'Ow, ay, I maun gang to my bed, and syne to the kirkyaird, and syne
to hell, I ken that weel eneuch. Robert, I lea my fiddle to you.
Be guid to the auld wife, man--better nor I hae been. An auld
wife's better nor nae fiddle.'
He stooped, lifted the violin with his left hand, gave it to Robert,
rose, and made for the door. They helped him up the creaking stair,
got him half-undressed, and laid him in his bed. Robert put the
violin on the top of a press within sight of the sufferer, left him
groaning, and ran for the doctor. Having seen him set out for the
patient's dwelling, he ran home to his grandmother.
Now while Robert was absent, occasion had arisen to look for him:
unusual occurrence, a visitor had appeared, no less a person than
Mr. Innes, the school-master. Shargar had been banished in
consequence from the parlour, and had seated himself outside
Robert's room, never doubting that Robert was inside. Presently he
heard the bell ring, and then Betty came up the stair, and said
Robert was wanted. Thereupon Shargar knocked at the door, and as
there was neither voice nor hearing, opened it, and found, with a
well-known horror, that he had been watching an empty room. He made
no haste to communicate the fact. Robert might return in a moment,
and his absence from the house not be discovered. He sat down on
the bedstead and waited. But Betty came up again, and before
Shargar could prevent her, walked into the room with her candle in
her hand.
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