Free Hue and Cry by Shirley McKay

fireside and fled from the room. As Hew began to follow her he was intercepted by his father’s groom.
    ‘Peace, we have secured him, sir. He’s safe and well. But,’ the man appeared to hesitate, ‘you will not mind me asking, did ye buy him from the ostler in the marketplace?’
    Hew answered grimly, ‘Aye, and if I did?’
    ‘I kent as much!’ the groom exclaimed. ‘Tis nothing, sir,’ he grinned. ‘A wee bit wager in the stable. Is yon horse Dun Scottis?’
    Hew cast a nervous glance back at his father, who sat dozing by the fire. He had a notion he would not like what was coming, and did not care to have it overheard. He nodded, dropping low his voice. ‘Aye, go on then, tell the worst,’ he groaned.
    The groom’s expression mingled pity and amusement. ‘Dun Scottis is well known here in the town. The bairns call him
Dung
Scottis, because . . .’
    ‘Aye,’ Hew interrupted quickly, ‘I can guess the cause.’
    ‘Well, sir, yon’s a limmar. And a limmar too that sold him. Aye, sir, he’s a rogue. And since you are a stranger here . . .’
    ‘He must have seen you coming,’ his expression said, too clearly. In deference, or compassion, he did not go on.
    ‘I thank you,’ Hew said firmly, ‘For this intelligence. You may tell your friends you won the bet. Now tend him well.’
    ‘You do not mean to keep him, sir?’ The servant looked incredulous.
    ‘Indeed I do. So give him food and water. Keep him well secured.’
    ‘That’s easier said than done,’ the servant grinned.
    Meg returned, a little flushed but smiling. ‘All is well.’
    ‘I fear your herbs are ruined, I’m sorry for it, Meg,’ her brother told her earnestly.
    ‘He only had the carrot tops. I think you mistake me, Hew, for it was not the garden I was feared for. Never mind, let’s drink some wine.’
    ‘What’s the matter?’ Matthew murmured. ‘Did I hear the door?’
    ‘Hew’s horse was in my garden. But there is no harm.’
    Matthew looked vexed. ‘How careless of the groom.’
    ‘In truth,’ Hew confessed, ‘it wasn’t his fault.’
    His father gave him a long look, and he felt himself grow hot.
    ‘I have a dozen horses,’ Matthew observed, ‘that grow dull from want of riding. You are welcome, of course, to take any one.’
    ‘Thank you, but I have a horse,’ Hew insisted. His father smiled indulgently.
    ‘Well then, home at last!’ Matthew let the subject drop. ‘And now that you are here we must make plans for your future. I have found you a place as an advocate’s clerk. Tomorrow I will write to my old pupil Richard Cunningham, to tell him to expect you. He will be your master at the bar.’
    ‘I wish you would not,’ Hew blurted out. His father stared at him.
    ‘Well,’ he said after a moment, ‘if you want a holiday then we can wait a little. I’ll be glad to have you here. But we must not put it off too long. You want to be in Edinburgh by Martinmas.’
    ‘I do not want it, there’s the point.’ Hew took a gulp of wine. ‘Sir, I am resolved. I cannot proceed to the bar. I do not want to be an advocate.’
    ‘I see.’ Matthew raised his eyebrows. He looked at Hew for a long time without comment, and then enquired pleasantly, ‘Have you thought what you might do instead? I know you well enough to think you will not be content without some occupation.’
    ‘I might teach, perhaps,’ Hew replied, grasping at straws. ‘Or go into the church.’
    His father gave a small dry smile. ‘My son, a minister of the reformed kirk.’
    ‘You had me schooled too well,’ the son said somewhat grimly.
    ‘Somehow, you know, I do not see it,’ Matthew answered lightly. ‘No matter, we will let it rest. I will not quarrel with you on your first night home. Peace, now!’ He waved his hand as Hew began to argue. ‘We shall speak of it another time. You are vexed, my child. Let me pour another cup of wine.’
    They fell into an uncomfortable silence. For six years, Hew had been abroad, and