at, d’ye see, but they’re raither in the way just now, as my second mate once said of the rocks when we were cruising off the coast of Norway in search of a pilot.”
The ornaments were, however, removed sooner than anyone had anticipated. The next trip that the captain made was for his hammock (he always slept in one), which was a long unwieldy bundle, like a gigantic bolster. He carried it into the parlour on his shoulder, and Minnie followed him.
“Where shall I sling it, lass?”
“Here, perhaps,” said Minnie.
The captain wheeled round as she spoke, and the end of the hammock swept the mantelpiece of all its ornaments, as completely as if the besom of destruction had passed over it.
“Shiver my timbers!” gasped the captain, awestruck by the hideous crash that followed.
“You’ve shivered the ornaments at any rate,” said Minnie, half-laughing and half-crying.
“So I have, but no matter. Never say die so long’s there a shot in the locker. There’s as good fish in the sea as ever come out of it; so bear a hand, my girl, and help me to sling up the hammock.”
The hammock was slung, the pipe of peace was smoked, and thus Captain Ogilvy was fairly installed in his sister’s cottage.
It may, perhaps, be necessary to remind the reader that all this is a long digression; that the events just narrated occurred a few days before the return of Ruby, and that they have been recorded here in order to explain clearly the reason of the captain’s appearance at the supper table of his sister, and the position which he occupied in the family.
When Ruby reached the gate of the small garden, Minnie had gone to the captain’s room to see that it was properly prepared for his reception, and the captain himself was smoking his pipe close to the chimney, so that the smoke should ascend it.
The first glance through the window assured the youth that his mother was, as letters had represented her, much better in health than she used to be. She looked so quiet and peaceful, and so fragile withal, that Ruby did not dare to “surprise her” by a sudden entrance, as he had originally intended, so he tapped gently at the window, and drew back.
The captain laid down his pipe and went to the door.
“What, Ruby!” he exclaimed, in a hoarse whisper.
“Hush, uncle! How is Minnie; where is she?”
“I think, lad,” replied the captain in a tone of reproof, “that you might have enquired for your mother first.”
“No need,” said Ruby, pointing to the window; “I see that she is there and well, thanks be to God for that:– but Minnie?”
“She’s well, too, boy, and in the house. But come, get inside. I’ll explain, after.”
This promise to “explain” was given in consequence of the great anxiety he, the captain, displayed to drag Ruby into the cottage.
The youth did not require much pressing, however. He no sooner heard that Minnie was well, than he sprang in, and was quickly at his mother’s feet. Almost as quickly a fair vision appeared in the doorway of the inner room, and was clasped in the young sailor’s arms with the most thorough disregard of appearances, not to mention propriety.
While this scene was enacting, the worthy captain was engaged in active proceedings, which at once amused and astonished his nephew, and the nature and cause of which shall be revealed in the next chapter.
Chapter Seven
Ruby in Difficulties
Having thrust his nephew into the cottage, Captain Ogilvy’s first proceeding was to close the outer shutter of the window and fasten it securely on the inside. Then he locked, bolted, barred, and chained the outer door, after which he shut the kitchen door, and, in default of any other mode of securing it, placed against it a heavy table as a barricade.
Having thus secured the premises in front, he proceeded to fortify the rear, and, when this was accomplished to his satisfaction, he returned to the kitchen, sat down opposite the widow, and wiped his shining pate.
“Why, uncle, are we going to stand out a siege that you take so much pains to lock up?”
Ruby sat down on the floor at his mother’s feet as he spoke, and Minnie sat down on a low stool beside him.
“Maybe we are, lad,” replied the captain; “anyhow, it’s always well to be ready—
“‘Ready, boys, ready,
We’ll fight and we’ll conquer again and again.’”
“Come uncle, explain yourself.”
“Explain myself, nephy? I can neither explain myself nor anybody else. D’ye know, Ruby, that you’re a burglar?”
“Am I, uncle? Well, I confess that that’s news.”
“Ay, but it’s true though, at least the law in Arbroath says so, and if it catches you, it’ll hang you as sure as a gun.”
Here Captain Ogilvy explained to his nephew the nature of the crime that was committed on the night of his departure, the evidence of his guilt in the finding part of the plate in the garden, coupled with his sudden disappearance, and wound up by saying that he regarded him, Ruby, as being in a “reg’lar fix.”
“But surely,” said Ruby, whose face became gradually graver as the case was unfolded to him, “surely it must be easy to prove to the satisfaction of everyone that I had nothing whatever to do with this affair?”
“Easy to prove it!” said the captain in an excited tone; “wasn’t you seen, just about the hour of the robbery, going stealthily down the street, by Big Swankie and Davy Spink, both of whom will swear to it.”
“Yes, but you were with me, uncle.”
“So I was, and hard enough work I had to convince them that I had nothin’ to do with it myself, but they saw that I couldn’t jump a stone wall eight foot high to save my life, much less break into a house, and they got no further evidence to convict me, so they let me off; but it’ll go hard with you, nephy, for Major Stewart described the men, and one o’ them was a big strong feller, the description bein’ as like you as two peas, only their faces was blackened, and the lantern threw the light all one way, so he didn’t see them well. Then, the things found in our garden,—and the villains will haul me up as a witness against you, for, didn’t I find them myself?”
“Very perplexing; what shall I do?” said Ruby.
“Clear out,” cried the captain emphatically.
“What! fly like a real criminal, just as I have returned home? Never. What say you, Minnie?”
“Stand your trial, Ruby. They cannot—they dare not—condemn the innocent.”
“And you, mother?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what to say,” replied Mrs Brand, with a look of deep anxiety, as she passed her fingers through her son’s hair, and kissed his brow. “I have seen the innocent condemned and the guilty go free more than once in my life.”
“Nevertheless,
