“My! that was an awfu’ way to talk to the meenister,” said Mrs. Sinclair when the door was again closed.  “You micht aye try to be civil to folk,” and there was resentment in her voice.

“Ach, dammit, wha can be bothered wi’ thae kind o’ folk yapping roun’ about when yer washin’ yerself.  He micht ken no’ to come at this time, when men are comin’ hame frae their work,” and he went on with his splashing.  “Here, gi’e my back a rub,” and he lay over the tub while she washed his back from the shoulders downward, making it clean and free from the coal dust and grime.  Then she proceeded to dry him all over with a rough towel, after which he put on a clean shirt, and taking off his pit trousers, stepped into the tub and began to wash his lower limbs and make them as clean as the upper part of the body.

“Ach, folk should ha’e a place to wash in anyway,” he grumbled, as if to justify his outburst, for secretly he was beginning to feel ashamed of it.  “The folk that ha’e the maist need o’ a bath are the folk wha never get the chance o’ yin,” he went on.  “Look at that chap wha was in the noo.  He never needs to dirty a finger, an’ look at the hoose he has to bide in, wi’ its fine bathroom an’ a’ things that he needs.  Och, but we are a silly lot o’ blockheads!” And so he raved on till he sat down to his frugal dinner of potatoes and buttermilk, after which he relapsed into silence again, and sat reading a newspaper.

It was in this mood that Robert found him when he returned from the moors.  Nellie had noticed that something was worrying her husband, and she suspected some fresh trouble at the pit, though she asked no questions.

“Where hae ye been?” asked Geordie very calmly, as Robert entered furtively, and sat down on a chair near to the door.  The boy did not answer.  He dreaded that calmness.  He seemed to feel there was something strong, cruel and relentless behind it.  But he had something of his father’s nature in him, so he sat in silence.

“What kind o’ conduct’s this I hear ye’ve been up to?” was the next question, with the same studied calm, seemingly passionless and pliable.  Still no answer from the boy, though when he looked at his father he felt afraid.  He turned his eyes appealingly to his mother, but her face betrayed nothing, and a feeling of hopelessness entered Robert’s heart.  There was nothing else but to go through with it.

“Tak’ aff yer claes,” quietly commanded the father, and the boy reluctantly began to peel off his scanty garments one by one, till he stood naked on the bare floor.  He was glad that no one except the baby was in to see his humiliation, his brothers and sisters being all out at play.

The father rose and went to the corner where his working clothes lay in a heap.  Selecting the belt he wore round his waist at his work, he grasped it firmly, and with the other hand took the boy by one arm, saying:—­

“Are ye going to answer my question noo’, and tell me where ye ha’e been?”