e whole, till at last he awoke and
found himself in the little wooden chamber at Bodyfauld, and not in the
visioned room. Doubtless his loss of blood the day before had something
to do with the dream or vision, whichever the reader may choose to
consider it. He rose, and after a good breakfast, found himself very
little the worse, and forgot all about his dream, till a circumstance
which took place not long after recalled it vividly to his mind.

The enchantment of Bodyfauld soon wore off. The boys had no time to
enter into the full enjoyment of country ways, because of those weary
lessons, over the getting of which Mrs. Falconer kept as strict a watch
as ever; while to Robert the evening journey, his violin and Miss St.
John left at Rothieden, grew more than tame. The return was almost
as happy an event to him as the first going. Now he could resume his
lessons with the soutar.

With Shargar it was otherwise. The freedom for so much longer from Mrs.
Falconer's eyes was in itself so much of a positive pleasure, that
the walk twice a day, the fresh air, and the scents and sounds of the
country, only came in as supplementary. But I do not believe the boy
even then had so much happiness as when he was beaten and starved by
his own mother. And Robert, growing more and more absorbed in his own
thoughts and pursuits, paid him less and less attention as the weeks
went on, till Shargar at length judged it for a time an evil day on
which he first had slept under old Ronald Falconer's kilt.

CHAPTER XVIII. NATURE PUTS IN A CLAIM.

Before the day of return arrived, Robert had taken care to remove the
violin from his bedroom, and carry it once more to its old retreat in
Shargar's garret. The very first evening, however, that grannie again
spent in her own arm-chair, he hied from the house as soon as it grew
dusk, and made his way with his brown-paper parcel to Sandy Elshender's.

Entering the narrow passage from which his shop door opened, and hearing
him hammering away at a sole, he stood and unfolded his treasure, then
drew a low sigh from her with his bow, and awaited the result. He heard
the lap-stone fall thundering on the floor, and, like a spider from his
cavern, Dooble Sanny appeared in the door, with the bend-leather in one
hand, and the hammer in the other.

'Lordsake, man! hae ye gotten her again? Gie's a grup o' her!' he cried,
dropping leather and hammer.

'Na, na,' returned Robert, retreating towards the