The play was proceeded with to the bitter end, but a mere sprinkling of spectators remained to the finish. Quite early in the evening the quieter members of the disgusted audience had, in severe silence, left the hall. The more rowdy element remained to get what return they could for their money by hooting, cat-calling, whistling and shouting. Jess stuck to her post at the hired piano, and played away heroically throughout the protracted intervals between the acts. The young girl was quite admirable, sitting alone amidst the defrauded audience, strumming away dauntlessly, regardless of the nutshells thrown at her, and the jeers and ribald questions by which she was assailed. All the performers at least were heartily thankful when the miserable show was over for the night, and midst many "swear words" from the men and plaintive deep-breathed "Sh's!" from the girls, they wended their ways to their respective lodgings. And next evening it all had to be gone through once more, and this time the supply of audience was strictly limited. It might be owing to the rain, which was descending in a steady Scotch drizzle. But the despondent mummers had a shrewd suspicion that the truth concerning "P. Punter's Magnificent Co." had spread throughout the length and breadth of Ayr. It was not merely the dejection caused by the snub expressed by the rows of empty benches that brought such frowns upon usually placid brows. The abject poverty prevailing in the company was universal. Several of the young people were almost penniless, and made no secret of their destitute condition. So a deputation had waited upon the manager that afternoon to "protest," or "kick up a righteous row," as they put it--to "try to get the breeks off a Hielander," according to Mr. Punter's version. In plain words, there was a general demand that, in consideration of the long delay for rehearsals, a portion of the company's salary should be now paid in advance--at least sufficient to buy bread and cheese until the end of the week. After much argument, appeals, and threats, Mr. Punter had been brought to promise that the takings on that evening should be divided amidst the company after the show. Thus the tiny audience was a truly serious matter. The second cause for anxious frownings was the statement of Archie that the eldest Punter boy had been overheard to tell the girl behind the bar in the "Ass and the Thistle," that the company was to be disbanded at the close of the three days at Ayr. No hint of this had been officially given, but it seemed so highly probable that it was generally accepted for fact. Evarne dared not contemplate it. The sorrows of the past seemed already years behind her, overlaid by the painful excitement and interest of the present, and sick anxiety and apprehension concerning the grey-shrouded future.