The master seemed much inclined to consider her condemned out of her
own mouth, and give her a whipping at once; for it argued more than
ignorance to answer _a whipping_, instead of _the wrath and curse of
God_, &c., &c., as plainly set down in the Scotch Targum. But
reflecting, perhaps, that she was a girl, and a little one, and that
although it would be more gratification to him to whip her, it might be
equal suffering to her to be _kept in_, he gave that side wave of his
head which sealed the culprit's doom, and Annie took her place among
the condemned, with a flutter of joy at her heart that Alec Forbes
would not be left without a servant to wait upon him. A few more boys
made up the unfortunate party, but they were all little ones, and so
there was no companion for Forbes, who evidently felt the added
degradation of being alone. The hour arrived; the school was dismissed;
the master strode out, locking the door behind him; and the defaulters
were left alone, to chew the bitter cud of ill-cooked Theology.
For some time a dreary silence reigned. Alec sat with his elbows on his
desk, biting his nails, and gnawing his hands. Annie sat dividing her
silent attention between her book and Alec.
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