Brodie, however, took no notice of him, but went quietly on with his meal, staring straight ahead of him and saying no word, until it seemed as though he had no intention of recognising his son. But at last, after a long time, when the tension in the room had grown almost unbearable, he turned and looked at Matthew. It was a penetrating gaze which saw everything and expressed everything, pierced the outside shell of hard bravado into the soft, shrinking flesh beneath, permeated and illuminated the deep recesses of Matthew's mind, and which said:
"You've returned at last, then. I know you! Still a weakling and now a failure!"
Under that glance Matthew seemed to diminish visibly in stature and, although he fought with all the strength in him to meet his father's eyes, he could not. His own gaze wavered, quailed, and to the intense humiliation of his swaggering vanity fell downwards to the ground.
Brodie smiled grimly, then having, without uttering one word, brow-beaten the other to subjection, he spoke, saying only, with a cutting inflection:
"You've arrived!" Yet expressed within the short compass of these simple words were a dozen sarcastic, objectionable meanings. Mamma trembled. The baiting of her son had begun and, though she saw that it was going to be worse than she had feared, she dared not say a word for fear of aggravating her husband's mood. Her eyes fell upon her Matt with a terrified, compassionate sympathy as Brodie continued, "It's a real pleasure to see your braw, handsome face again, although it has turned as yellow as a guinea. Ye were aye a bit pasty-faced, now I think o't, but all the gold ye've been savin' out by there has fair jaundiced ye." He surveyed Matthew critically, warming to his work, finding an outlet in this sardonic onslaught for all his bitter sufferings of the past months.
"It's worth it, though, no doubt it's worth it," he continued. "You'll have brought us a hantle o' gold from these foreign parts ye've been slavin' in. Ye'll be a rich man now? Are ye rich?" he shot out suddenly.
Matthew shook his head dismally, and at this silent negation Brodie's eyebrows lifted in a stupendous sneer.
"What!" he cried. "Ye havena brought back a fortune? That beats a 5 ! I thought from the way you've been jauntin' about Europe and from those grand big boxes in the hall that ye must be worth a mint o' money at least. Then, if ye're not as rich as all that, why did ye get yoursef thrown out o' your position?"
"I didn't like it," muttered Matthew.
"Dear! Dear!" remarked Brodie, appearing to address the company at large. "He didna like his position. He maun be a big man to be so hard to please as all that; and the downright honesty of the man to admit that he didna like it." Then, turning to Matthew and hardening his tone, he exclaimed, "Do ye not mean that it didna like you? I've been told here in Levenford that you were soundly kicked out o' it. That they got as sick of the sight o' ye out there as I am already." He paused, then continued suavely, "Still, I may be wronging you. I've no doubt ye've got something splendid in view some marvellous new position. Have ye not?"
His tone demanded a reply and Matthew muttered "No" sulkily, hating his father now with a violence which shook him, feeling it an unbearable humiliation that he, the travelled, the experienced, the sophisticated buck, should be spoken to like this. He swore inwardly that though at present he made no resistance, when he was stronger, more recovered from his journey, he would be revenged for every
insult.
"No new post to go to!" Brodie continued, with assumed affability. "No post and no money! You've just come back to live off your father. Come back like a beaten dog. Ye think it's easier to sponge on me than to work, I suppose."
A tremor ran through Matthew's frame.
"What!" cried Brodie. "Are ye cold ? It's the sudden change from the great heat ye've been called upon to endure when you were workin' yourself into the jaundice outbye. Your dear mother will have to get ye some warm clothes out o' these grand, big cases o' yours. I mind weel she was aye plaisterin' ye with flannels when ye were a boy; And now that you're a braw, full-grown man she mustna let ye get a chill. Na! Na! You're too precious and valuable for that."
He passed up his cup for more tea, remarking, "I havena made such a good tea for a long time! It fair gives me an appetite to see your pookey face back again."
Matthew could endure these taunts no longer, and giving up the pretence of eating he got up, mumbling to Mamma in a broken voice:
"I can't stand this any longer. I don't want any tea. I'll away out!"
"Sit down!" thundered Brodie, pushing the other back with his closed fist. "Sit down, sir. Ye can go when I tell ye to and not before. I'm not done with ye yet." Then, as Matthew subsided into his seat, he continued cuttingly, "Are we not to have the privilege of your society, next? Ye've been away two years and yet you canna bide in the house two minutes. Can ye not see that we're all waiting to hear about these wonderful adventures you’ve had out there ? We're just hanging on the words that are ready to drop from your lips. Come on! Tell us all about them."
"Tell you about what?" answered Matthew sullenly.
"About the grand, excitin' time ye've had outbye. About the rajahs and princes you've been hobnobbin' with about the elephants and the tigers ye've shot tell us quick before ye've time to mak' it up. Yell be a perfect daredevil now, I suppose ? There'll be no end to what ye can do?"
"I can maybe do more than you think," muttered Matthew under his breath.
"Indeed, now!" sneered Brodie, catching at the other's words. "You're going to surprise us, are ye? It's the same story as before, always what you're goin' to do. Never what ye've done, mind ye, but always what's comin' off next! Gad! When I look at ye there with that cringin' look about ye and all these fine, flashy clothes on ye, it makes me wonder what ye will do." His anger rose until it almost choked him, but with an effort he controlled it and continued in his smooth, ironic voice, "Never mind, though! It's such a treat to have ye back that we mustna be too hard on ye. The main thing is that you've come back safe and sound from all the terrible dangers that ye're too modest to speak about. We must have the notice o' your return put in the Advertiser. Then all your braw friends especially your lady friends will ken that you're home. They'll be swarmin' round ye like flies round a honey pot. That's what ye like, isn't it to have the women pettin' ye and runnin' after ye?"
Matthew made no reply and after a moment's pause Brodie continued, drawing back his lips sardonically:
"I suppose next Sunday that mother o' yours will have ye all toshed up and have ye out at the kirk for the general admiration o' her braw congregation. Ye might even squeeze your way into the choir again, if ye were sleekit enough, to let them all hear your bonnie voke lifted up in praise o' the Lord. It would be a real manly thing to sing in the choir again would it not? Answer me, ye dummy. Do ye hear what I'm sayin' to ye?"
"I'll not sing in any choir," retorted Matthew, thinking sullenly that it was like his father to bring up this memory of the past and use it derisively to force him into a ridiculous position.
"The prodigal son refuses to sing," sneered Brodie. "Did ye ever hear the like o't and him that had the lovely, lovely voice. Well, my fine man," he continued with a snarl, "if ye'll not sing for your mother, you'll sing for me. You'll sing to the tune I pipe. Don't think that I can't see through ye. I do! Ye've disgraced yourself and me. Ye hadna the grace to stick to your job like a man ye must come running back home to your soft mother like a beaten cur. But don't think ye can try that with me. Keep yourself in order when I'm about or, by God! it'll be the waur o' ye. Do ye understand what I mean?" He rose from the table abruptly and stood glaring down at his son. "I'm not finished with ye yet. I'll knock the fancy notions out o' your head before I'm done with ye. I warn ye keep