We came the by-way over the hill of Corstorphine; and when we got near to the place called Rest-and-be-Thankful, and looked down on Corstorphine bogs and over to the city and the castle on the hill, we both stopped, for we both knew without a word said that we had come to where our ways parted. Here he repeated to me once again what had been agreed upon between us: the address of the lawyer, the daily hour at which Alan might be found, and the signals that were to be made by any that came seeking him. Then I gave what money I had (a guinea or two of Rankeillor’s) so that he should not starve in the meanwhile; and then we stood a space, and looked over at Edinburgh in silence. “Well, good-bye,” said Alan, and held out his left hand. “Good-bye,” said I, and gave the hand a little grasp, and went off down hill. Neither one of us looked the other in the face, nor so long as he was in my view did I take one back glance at the friend I was leaving. But as I went on my way to the city, I felt so lost and lonesome, that I could have found it in my heart to sit down by the dyke, and cry and weep like any baby. It was coming near noon when I passed in by the West Kirk and the Grassmarket into the streets of the capital. The huge height of the buildings, running up to ten and fifteen storeys, the narrow arched entries that continually vomited passengers, the wares of the merchants in their windows, the hubbub and endless stir, the foul smells and the fine clothes, and a hundred other particulars too small to mention, struck me into a kind of stupor of surprise, so that I let the crowd carry me to and fro; and yet all the time what I was thinking of was Alan at Rest-and-be-Thankful; and all the time (although you would think I would not choose but be delighted with these braws and novelties) there was a cold gnawing in my inside like a remorse for something wrong. The hand of Providence brought me in my drifting to the very doors of the British Linen Company’s bank. * * * * * Scribner Illustrated Classics for Younger Readers Stories which have been loved by young readers for several generations are included in the Scribner Illustrated Classics. They are all books of rare beauty and tested literary quality, presented in handsome format and strikingly illustrated in color by such famous artists as N. C. Wyeth, Maxfield Parrish, Jessie Willcox Smith, and others. No other series of books for youthful readers can compare with them; they make gifts of lasting value which will be cherished into adult years. They are to be found in one of two groups--the popular group, issued at a remarkably low price, and the Quality Group, published at a higher but still very reasonable price. Check over the following complete list. The volume you want will be available in one of the two groups. _By Robert Louis Stevenson_