Two yellow eyes, glowing in the darkness like cairngorms, and a small dim figure bunched up in a chair, told him his surmise was wrong. Many a time had he seen his father in such case before, and now he muttered contemptuously:
"Drunk; the leetle swab! Sleepin' it off, I reck'n."
Then he saw his mistake. The hand that hung above the floor twitched and was still again.
There was a clammy silence. A mouse, emboldened by the quiet, scuttled across the hearth. One mighty paw lightly moved; a lightning tap, and the tiny beast lay dead.
Again that hollow stillness: no sound, no movement; only those two unwinking eyes fixed on him immovable.
At length a small voice from the fireside broke the quiet.
Again a clammy silence, and a life-long pause.
"I thowt yo' was sleepin'," said David, at length, lamely.
"Ay, so ye said. 'Sleepin' it aff'; I heard ye." Then, still in the same small voice, now quivering imperceptibly, "Wad ye obleege me, sir, by leetin' the lamp? Or, d'ye think, Wullie, 'twad be soilin' his dainty fingers? They're mair used, I'm told, to danderin' with the bonnie brown hair o' his--"
"I'll not ha' ye talk o' ma Maggie so," interposed the boy passionately.
"_His_ Maggie, mark ye, Wullie--_his_! I thocht 'twad soon get that far."
"Tak' care, dad! I'll stan' but little more," the boy warned him in choking voice; and began to trim the lamp with trembling fingers.
M'Adam forthwith addressed himself to Red Wull.
"I suppose no man iver had sic a son as him, Wullie. Ye ken what I've done for him, an' ye ken hoo he's repaid it. He's set himsel' agin me; he's misca'd me; he's robbed me o' ma Cup; last of all, he struck me--struck me afore them a'. We've toiled for him, you and I, Wullie; we've slaved to keep him in hoose an' hame, an' he's passed his time, the while, in riotous leevin', carousin' at Kenmuir, amusin' himself' wi' his--" He broke off short. The lamp was lit, and the strip of paper, pinned on to the table, naked and glaring, caught his eye.
"What's this?" he muttered; and unloosed the nail that clamped it down.
"Adam Mackadam yer warned to mak' an end to yer Red Wull will be best for him and the Sheep. This is the first yo'll have two more the third will be the last--"