been inhabited by a well-to-do class of the
townspeople, but had now fallen in estimation. Upon a stone at the door
of what seemed an outhouse he discovered the object of his search.

'What are ye sittin' there for, Shargar?'

Shargar is a word of Gaelic origin, applied, with some sense of the
ridiculous, to a thin, wasted, dried-up creature. In the present case
it was the nickname by which the boy was known at school; and, indeed,
where he was known at all.

'What are ye sittin' there for, Shargar? Did naebody offer to tak ye
in?'

'Na, nane o' them. I think they maun be a' i' their beds. I'm most
dreidfu' cauld.'

The fact was, that Shargar's character, whether by imputation from
his mother, or derived from his own actions, was none of the best. The
consequence was, that, although scarcely one of the neighbours would
have allowed him to sit there all night, each was willing to wait yet
a while, in the hope that somebody else's humanity would give in first,
and save her from the necessity of offering him a seat by the fireside,
and a share of the oatmeal porridge which probably would be scanty
enough for her own household. For it must be borne in mind that all
the houses in the place were occupied by poor people, with whom the
one virtue, Charity, was, in a measure, at home, and amidst many sins,
cardinal and other, managed to live in even some degree of comfort.

'Get up, than, Shargar, ye lazy beggar! Or are ye frozen to the
door-stane? I s' awa' for a kettle o' bilin' water to lowse ye.'

'Na, na, Bob. I'm no stucken. I'm only some stiff wi' the cauld; for
wow, but I am cauld!' said Shargar, rising with difficulty. 'Gie 's a
haud o' yer han', Bob.'

Robert gave him his hand, and Shargar was straightway upon his feet.

'Come awa' noo, as fest and as quaiet 's ye can.'

'What are ye gaein' to du wi' me, Bob?'

'What's that to you, Shargar?'

'Naything. Only I wad like to ken.'

'Hae patience, and ye will ken. Only mind ye do as I tell ye, and dinna
speik a word.'

Shargar followed in silence.

On the way Robert remembered that Miss Napier had not, after all, given
him the receipt for which his grandmother had sent him. So he returned
to The Boar's Head, and, while he went in, left Shargar in the archway,
to shiver, and try in vain to warm his hands by the alternate plans of
slapping them on the opposite arms, and hiding them under them.

When Robert came out, he saw a man talking to him under the