ost himself, and out of that single mistake, by a
chain of consequences, arose the scandal which almost drove the Bailie
from Muirtown. Speug could not have hoped for anything so good as that
foolish blow, and the moment that it came he saw his opportunity. Many a
stroke had he endured in his day, from his father and from the grooms,
when his mischief was beyond endurance, and from Bulldog when he caught
him red-handed, and from the boys in a fight, and there was no one of
his age so indifferent to such afflictions. Had the hand been any other
than that of Bailie MacConachie, Speug would have made derisive gestures
and invited the second stroke. As it was, he staggered across the
pavement and fell with a heavy thud upon the street, where, after one
sharp, piercing cry of pain, he lay motionless, but his moans could be
heard along the Terrace. His one hope was that, when he had seized the
occasion with such dramatic success, the Seminary would not fail to play
up and support his _role_, and, although they were cleverer at reality
than acting they entered heartily into their opportunity.

"Are ye conscious, Peter?" inquired Howieson tenderly, as he stooped
over the prostrate figure. "Div ye hear us speakin' to ye? Dinna moan
like that, but tell us where ye're hurt. What are ye gatherin' round
like that for an keepin' away the air? Hold up his head, Bauldie? Some
o' ye lift his feet out o' the gutter? Run to the lade, for ony's sake,
and bring some water in yir bonnets."

It was pretty to see Jock and Bauldie lifting the unconscious form of
their beloved friend, and carrying him carefully across the pavement,
and placing Speug in a sitting position against the railing, and then
rendering what would now be called first aid to the wounded, while that
ingenuous youth kept his eyes tightly closed and moaned occasionally, to
show that he was still living. Never in his life had Providence given
him a chance of playing so much mischief, and he was not going to be
disobedient. They opened his shirt at the breast to give him air, they
anxiously searched the side of his head for the wound, and washed away
imaginary blood with very dirty pocket-handkerchiefs. They bathed his
forehead with such profuseness that the water ran down his chest,
whereat Speug expressed himself in low but stern tones, so Nestie
advised them to stick to his head; and some of the smaller boys were
only prevented from taking off his boots by a seasonable warni