Calmly she sleepeth, and her sleep is blest
With heavenly visions, and the joy of Night
Treading aloft with moons. Nor hath she fright
Though cloudy tempests beat upon her breast.
Ericson turned his face to the wall, and Robert withdrew to his own
chamber.
CHAPTER XIII.
SHARGAR'S ARM.
Not many weeks passed before Shargar knew Aberdeen better than most
Aberdonians. From the Pier-head to the Rubislaw Road, he knew, if
not every court, yet every thoroughfare and short cut. And Aberdeen
began to know him. He was very soon recognized as trustworthy, and
had pretty nearly as much to do as he could manage. Shargar,
therefore, was all over the city like a cracker, and could have told
at almost any hour where Dr. Anderson was to be found--generally in
the lower parts of it, for the good man visited much among the poor;
giving them almost exclusively the benefit of his large experience.
Shargar delighted in keeping an eye upon the doctor, carefully
avoiding to show himself.
One day as he was hurrying through the Green (a non virendo) on a
mission from the Rothieden carrier, he came upon the doctor's
chariot standing in one of the narrowest streets, and, as usual,
paused to contemplate the equipage and get a peep of the owner. The
morning was very sharp. There was no snow, but a cold fog, like
vaporized hoar-frost, filled the air. It was weather in which the
East Indian could not venture out on foot, else he could have
reached the place by a stair from Union Street far sooner than he
could drive thither.
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