the night, the tide had crept up upon him. A
horror seized him, as if the ocean were indeed a slimy monster that
sought to devour him where he lay alone and wretched. He sprang up the
sand before him, and, sliding back at every step, gained the top with
difficulty, and ran across the _links_ towards the city. The exercise
pumped the blood more rapidly through his brain, and before he reached
home hope had begun to dawn. He ascended the garret-stairs, and again
knocked at Mr Cupples's door.

"Come in," reached his ear in a strange dull tone. Mr Cupples had
shouted into his empty tumbler while just going to swallow the last few
drops without the usual intervention of the wine-glass. Alec hesitated,
but the voice came again with its usual ring, tinged with irritation,
and he entered.

"Hillo, bantam!" exclaimed Mr Cupples, holding out a grimy hand, that
many a lady might have been pleased to possess and keep clean and
white: "Hoo's the soo? And hoo's a' the cocks and hens?"

"Brawly," returned Alec. "Hoo's the _tappit hen_?"--a large bottle,
holding six quarts, in which Mr Cupples kept his whisky.

Mr Cupples opened his eyes wide, and stared at Alec, who saw that he
had made a blunder.

"I'll hae nae jaw frae you, younker," said he slowly. "Gin ye be sae
ill at ease 'at ye maun tak' leeberties for the sake o' bein'
facetious, ye can jist gang doon the stair wi' a quaiet sough."

"I beg your pardon, Mr Cupples," said Alec earnestly, for he was vexed
with himself. "But ye're quite richt; I am some ill at ease."

"I thocht as muckle. Is the rainbow beginnin' to cast (fade) a wee? Has
the fit o' Iris ca'd a hole i' the airch o' 't? Eh, man! man! Tak' to
the mathemawtics and the anawtomy, and fling the conic sections an' the
banes i' the face o' the bonny jaud--Iris, I mean, man, no ither, lass
or leddy."

For Mr Cupples had feared, from the expression of Alec's face, that he
had given him offence in return. A silence of a few seconds followed,
which Alec gladly broke.

"Are you still acting as librarian, Mr Cupples?" he said.

"Ay. I'm actin' _as_ librarian," returned Cupples dryly. "And I'm
thinkin'," he added, "that the buiks are beginnin' to ken by this time
what they're aboot; for sic a throuither disjaskit midden o' lere, I
never saw. Ye micht hae taicklet it wi' a graip" (_a three-pronged
fork_, a sort of agricultural trident). "Are ye gaun to tak' the
cheemistry alang wi' the naiteral philoasophy?"

"Ay."