his grandmother's house, too!

'Shargar,' he said solemnly, 'there's no a drap o' whusky i' this
hoose. It's awfu' to hear ye mention sic a thing. My grannie wad
smell the verra name o' 't a mile awa'. I doobt that's her fit upo'
the stair a'ready.'

Robert crept to the door, and Shargar sat staring with horror, his
eyes looking from the gloom of the bed like those of a
half-strangled dog. But it was a false alarm, as Robert presently
returned to announce.

'Gin ever ye sae muckle as mention whusky again, no to say drink ae
drap o' 't, you and me pairt company, and that I tell you, Shargar,'
said he, emphatically.

'I'll never luik at it; I'll never mint at dreamin' o' 't,' answered
Shargar, coweringly. 'Gin she pits 't intil my moo', I'll spit it
oot. But gin ye strive wi' me, Bob, I'll cut my throat--I will; an'
that'll be seen and heard tell o'.'

All this time, save during the alarm of Mrs. Falconer's approach,
when he sat with a mouthful of hot potato, unable to move his jaws
for terror, and the remnant arrested half-way in its progress from
his mouth after the bite--all this time Shargar had been devouring
the provisions Robert had brought him, as if he had not seen food
that day. As soon as they were finished, he begged for a drink of
water, which Robert managed to procure for him. He then left him
for the night, for his longer absence might have brought his
grandmother after him, who had perhaps only too good reasons for