t the humblest inn was
beyond his means; though probably his reason for avoiding such a
shelter was the same as made him ask Alec to throw the bottle out of
the garret. Robert Bruce heard his question, and, regarding him keenly
from under his eyebrows, debated with himself whether the applicant was
respectable--that is, whether he could pay, and would bring upon the
house no discredit by the harbourage. The signs of such a man as
Cupples were inscrutable to Bruce; therefore his answer hung fire.

"Are ye deif, man?" said Cupples; "or are ye feared to tyne a chance by
giein' a fair answer to a fair queston?"

The arrow went too near the mark not to irritate Bruce.

"Gang yer wa's," said he. "We dinna want tramps i' this toon."

"Weel, I am a tramp, nae doobt," returned Cupples; "for I hae come ilka
bit o' the road upo' my ain fit; but I hae read in history o' twa or
three tramps that war respectable fowk for a' that. Ye winna _gie_
onything i' this chop, I doobt--nae even information.--Will ye _sell_
me an unce o' pigtail?"

"Ow, ay. I'll sell't gin ye'll buy't."

"There's the bawbees," said Cupples, laying the orthodox pence on the
counter. "And noo will ye tell me whaur I can get a respectable, dacent
place to lie doon in? I'll want it for a week, at ony rate."

Before he had finished the question, the door behind the counter had
opened, and young Bruce had entered. Mr Cupples knew him well enough by
sight as a last year's bejan.

"How are you?" he said. "I know you, though I don't know your name."

"My name's Robert Bruce, Mr Cupples."

"A fine name--Robert Bruce," he replied.

The youth turned to his father, and said--

"This gentleman is the librarian of our college, father."

Bruce took his hat off his head, and set it on the counter.

"I beg your pardon, sir," he said. "I'm terrible short-sichtit in
can'le-licht."

"I'm used to bein' mista'en'," answered Cupples simply, perceiving that
he had got hold of a character. "Mak nae apologies, I beg ye, but
answer my queston."

"Weel, sir, to tell the trowth, seein' ye're a gentleman, we hae a room
oorsels. But it's a garret-room, and maybe--"

"Then I'll hae't, whatever it be, gin ye dinna want ower muckle for't."

"Weel, ye see, sir, your college is a great expense to heumble fowk
like oorsels, and we hae to mak it up the best way that we can."

"Nae doot. Hoo muckle do ye want?"

"Wad ye think five shillins ower muckle?"

"'Deed wad I."

"W