Betty's job was long ended before Robert returned. Never dreaming that Shargar could have gone back to the old haunt, he had looked for him everywhere before that occurred to him as a last chance. Nor would he have found him even then, for he would not have thought of his being inside the deserted house, had not Shargar heard his footsteps in the street. He started up from his stool saying, 'That's Bob!' but was not sure enough to go to the door: he might be mistaken; it might be the landlord! He heard the feet stop and did not move; but when he heard them begin to go away again, he rushed to the door, and bawled on the chance at the top of his voice, 'Bob! Bob!' 'Eh! ye crater!' said Robert, 'ir ye there efter a'? 'Eh! Bob,' exclaimed Shargar, and burst into tears. 'I thocht ye wad come efter me.' 'Of coorse,' answered Robert, coolly. 'Come awa' hame.' 'Whaur til?' asked Shargar in dismay. 'Hame to yer ain bed at my grannie's.' 'Na, na,' said Shargar, hurriedly, retreating within the door of the hovel. 'Na, na, Bob, lad, I s' no du that. She's an awfu' wuman, that grannie o' yours. I canna think hoo ye can bide wi' her. I'm weel oot o' her grups, I can tell ye.' It required a good deal of persuasion, but at last Robert prevailed upon Shargar to return. For was not Robert his tower of strength? And if Robert was not frightened at his grannie, or at Betty, why should he be? At length they entered Mrs. Falconer's parlour, Robert dragging in Shargar after him, having failed altogether in encouraging him to enter after a more dignified fashion. It must be remembered that although Shargar was still kilted, he was not the less trowsered, such as the trowsers were. It makes my heart ache to think of those trowsers--not believing trowsers essential to blessedness either, but knowing the superiority of the old Roman costume of the kilt. No sooner had Mrs. Falconer cast her eyes upon him than she could not but be convinced of the truth of Robert's averment. 'Here he is, grannie; and gin ye bena saitisfeed yet--' 'Haud yer tongue, laddie. Ye hae gi'en me nae cause to doobt yer word.' Indeed, during Robert's absence, his grandmother had had leisure to perceive of what an absurd folly she had been guilty. She had also had time to make up her mind as to her duty with regard to Shargar; and the more she thought about it, the more she admired the conduct of her grandson, and the better she saw that it would be right to follow his example. No doubt she was the more inclined to this benevolence that she had as it were received her grandson back from the jaws of death. When the two lads entered, from her arm-chair Mrs. Falconer examined Shargar from head to foot with the eye of a queen on her throne, and a countenance immovable in stern gentleness, till Shargar would gladly have sunk into the shelter of the voluminous kilt from the gaze of those quiet hazel eyes. At length she spoke: 'Robert, tak him awa'.' 'Whaur'll I tak him till, grannie?'