was soon lost in the wail of a Highland psalm-tune, giving place in
its turn to 'Sic a wife as Willie had!' And on he went without
pause, till Robert dared not stop any longer. The fiddle had
bewitched the fiddler.

'Come as aften 's ye like, Robert, gin ye fess this leddy wi' ye,'
said the soutar.

And he stroked the back of the violin tenderly with his open palm.

'But wad ye hae ony objection to lat it lie aside ye, and lat me
come whan I can?'

'Objection, laddie? I wad as sune objeck to lattin' my ain wife lie
aside me.'

'Ay,' said Robert, seized with some anxiety about the violin as he
remembered the fate of the wife, 'but ye ken Elspet comes aff a' the
waur sometimes.'

Softened by the proximity of the wonderful violin, and stung afresh
by the boy's words as his conscience had often stung him before, for
he loved his wife dearly save when the demon of drink possessed him,
the tears rose in Elshender's eyes. He held out the violin to
Robert, saying, with unsteady voice:

'Hae, tak her awa'. I dinna deserve to hae sic a thing i' my hoose.
But hear me, Robert, and lat hearin' be believin'. I never was sae
drunk but I cud tune my fiddle. Mair by token, ance they fand me
lyin' o' my back i' the Corrie, an' the watter, they say, was ower