h a
look meant to be significant. 'They're my shune, and I'll keep them.
Aiblins ye dinna aye ken wha's shune ye hae, or whan they cam in to ye.'

'What for didna Shargar come an' speir efter them, than, in place o'
makin' a thief o' himsel' that gait?'

'Ye may haud yer tongue,' returned Robert, with yet more significance.

'I was aye a gowk (idiot),' said Shargar, in apologetic reflection,
looking awfully white, and afraid to lift an eye to Mrs. Falconer, yet
reassured a little by Robert's presence.

Some glimmering seemed now to have dawned upon the soutar, for he began
to prepare a retreat. Meantime Mrs. Falconer sat silent, allowing no
word that passed to escape her. She wanted to be at the bottom of the
mysterious affair, and therefore held her peace.

'Weel, I'm sure, Robert, ye never tellt me aboot the shune,' said
Alexander. 'I s' jist tak them back wi' me, and du what's wantit to
them. And I'm sorry that I hae gien ye this tribble, Mistress Faukner;
but it was a' that fule's wite there. I didna even ken it was him, till
we war near-han' the hoose.'

'Lat me see the shune,' said Mrs. Falconer, speaking almost for the
first time. 'What's the maitter wi' them?'

Examining the shoes, she saw they were in a perfectly sound state, and
this confirmed her suspicion that there was more in the affair than had
yet come out. Had she taken the straightforward measure of examining
Robert, she would soon have arrived at the truth. But she had such a
dread of causing a lie to be told, that she would adopt any roundabout
way rather than ask a plain question of a suspected culprit. So she laid
the shoes down beside her, saying to the soutar,

'There's naething amiss wi' the shune. Ye can lea' them.'

Thereupon Alexander went away, and Robert and Shargar would have
given more than their dinner to follow him. Grannie neither asked any
questions, however, nor made a single remark on what had passed. Dinner
was served and eaten, and the boys returned to their afternoon school.

No sooner was she certain that they were safe under the school-master's
eye than the old lady put on her black silk bonnet and her black woollen
shawl, took her green cotton umbrella, which served her for a staff,
and, refusing Betty's proffered assistance, set out for Dooble Sanny's
shop.

As she drew near she heard the sounds of his violin. When she entered,
he laid his auld wife carefully aside, and stood in an expectant
attitude.

'Mr. Els