is mind to run the risk of
successive mid-day solos in the old factory--he was not prepared to
carry the instrument through the streets, or be seen entering the place
with it.

But the factory lay at the opposite corner of a quadrangle of gardens,
the largest of which belonged to itself; and the corner of this garden
touched the corner of Captain Forsyth's, which had formerly belonged
to Andrew Falconer: he had had a door made in the walls at the point of
junction, so that he could go from his house to his business across
his own property: if this door were not locked, and Robert could pass
without offence, what a north-west passage it would be for him! The
little garden belonging to his grandmother's house had only a slight
wooden fence to divide it from the other, and even in this fence there
was a little gate: he would only have to run along Captain Forsyth's top
walk to reach the door. The blessed thought came to him as he lay in bed
at Bodyfauld: he would attempt the passage the very next day.

With his violin in its paper under his arm, he sped like a hare from
gate to door, found it not even latched, only pushed to and rusted into
such rest as it was dangerous to the hinges to disturb. He opened it,
however, without any accident, and passed through; then closing it
behind him, took his way more leisurely through the tangled grass of
his grandmother's property. When he reached the factory, he judged it
prudent to search out a more secret nook, one more full of silence, that
is, whence the sounds would be less certain to reach the ears of the
passers by, and came upon a small room, near the top, which had been the
manager's bedroom, and which, as he judged from what seemed the signs of
ancient occupation, a cloak hanging on the wall, and the ashes of a
fire lying in the grate, nobody had entered for years: it was the safest
place in the world. He undid his instrument carefully, tuned its strings
tenderly, and soon found that his former facility, such as it was, had
not ebbed away beyond recovery. Hastening back as he came, he was just
in time for his dinner, and narrowly escaped encountering Betty in the
transe. He had been tempted to leave the instrument, but no one could
tell what might happen, and to doubt would be to be miserable with
anxiety.

He did the same for several days without interruption--not, however,
without observation. When, returning from his fourth visit, he opened
the door between the garden