lance now and then at Donal, as if she claimed him
on her side, though the older people must be humoured. Donal was not
too simple to understand her: he gave her look no reception. Bethinking
himself that they might have matters to talk about, he rose, and
turning to his hostess, said,

"Wi' yer leave, gudewife, I wad gang to my bed. I hae traivelt a
maitter o' thirty mile the day upo' my bare feet."

"Eh, sir!" she answered, "I oucht to hae considert that!--Come, yoong
Eppy, we maun get the gentleman's bed made up for him."

With a toss of her pretty head, Eppy followed her grandmother to the
next room, casting a glance behind her that seemed to ask what she
meant by calling a lad without shoes or stockings a gentleman. Not the
less readily or actively, however, did she assist her grandmother in
preparing the tired wayfarer's couch. In a few minutes they returned,
and telling him the room was quite ready for him, Doory added a hope
that he would sleep as sound as if his own mother had made the bed.

He heard them talking for a while after the door was closed, but the
girl soon took her leave. He was just falling asleep in the luxury of
conscious repose, when the sound of the cobbler's hammer for a moment
roused him, and he knew the old man was again at work on his behalf. A
moment more and he was too fast asleep for any Cyclops' hammer to wake
him.

CHAPTER VII.

A SUNDAY.

Notwithstanding his weariness Donal woke early, for he had slept
thoroughly. He rose and dressed himself, drew aside the little curtain
that shrouded the window, and looked out. It was a lovely morning.
His prospect was the curious old main street of the town. The sun that
had shone into it was now shining from the other side, but not a shadow
of living creature fell upon the rough stones! Yes--there was a cat
shooting across them like the culprit he probably was! If there was a
garden to the house, he would go and read in the fresh morning air!

He stole softly through the outer room, and down the stair; found the
back-door and a water-butt; then a garden consisting of two or three
plots of flowers well cared for; and ended his discoveries with a seat
surrounded and almost canopied with honeysuckle, where doubtless the
cobbler sometimes smoked his pipe! "Why does he not work here rather
than in the archway?" thought Donal. But, dearly as he loved flowers
and light and the free air of the garden, the old cobbler loved the
f