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.
Pages:
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208