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youths； and his experience of life taught Ericson and Robert much；
especially what he told them about his Brahmin friend in India。
Moray； on the other hand； was chiefly interested in his tales of
adventure when on service in the Indian army； or engaged in the
field sports of that region so prolific in monsters。 His gipsy
blood and lawless childhood； spent in wandering familiarity with
houseless nature； rendered him more responsive to these than the
others； and his kindled eye and pertinent remarks raised in the
doctor's mind an early question whether a commission in India might
not be his best start in life。
Between Ericson and Robert； as the former recovered his health；
communication from the deeper strata of human need became less
frequent。 Ericson had to work hard to recover something of his
leeway； Robert had to work hard that prizes might witness for him to
his grandmother and Miss St。 John。 To the latter especially； as I
think I have said before； he was anxious to show well； wiping out
the blot； as he considered it； of his all but failure in the matter
of a bursary。 For he looked up to her as to a goddess who just came
near enough to the earth to be worshipped by him who dwelt upon it。
The end of the session came nigh。 Ericson passed his examinations
with honour。 Robert gained the first Greek and third Latin prize。
The evening of the last day arrived； and on the morrow the students
would be gonesome to their homes of comfort and idleness； others
to hard labour in the fields； some to steady reading； perhaps to
school again to prepare for the next session； and others to be
tutors all the summer months； and return to the wintry city as to
freedom and life。 Shargar was to remain at the grammar…school。
That last evening Robert sat with Ericson in his room。 It was a
cold nightthe night of the last day of March。 A bitter wind blew
about the house； and dropped spiky hailstones upon the skylight。
The friends were to leave on the morrow； but to leave together； for
they had already sent their boxes； one by the carrier to Rothieden；
the other by a sailing vessel to Wick； and had agreed to walk
together as far as Robert's home； where he was in hopes of inducing
his friend to remain for a few days if he found his grandmother
agreeable to the plan。 Shargar was asleep on the rug for the last
time； and Robert had brought his coal…scuttle into Ericson's room to
combine their scanty remains of well…saved fuel in a common glow；
over which they now sat。
'I wonder what my grannie 'ill say to me；' said Robert。
'She'll be very glad to see you； whatever she may say；' remarked
Ericson。
'She'll say 〃Noo； be dooce；〃 the minute I hae shacken hands wi'
her；' said Robert。
'Robert；' returned Ericson solemnly； 'if I had a grandmother to go
home to； she might box my ears if she likedI wouldn't care。 You
do not know what it is not to have a soul belonging to you on the
face of the earth。 It is so cold and so lonely！'
'But you have a cousin； haven't you？' suggested Robert。
Ericson laughed； but good…naturedly。
'Yes；' he answered； 'a little man with a fishy smell； in a blue
tail…coat with brass buttons； and a red and black nightcap。'
'But；' Robert ventured to hint； 'he might go in a kilt and
top…boots； like Satan in my grannie's copy o' the Paradise Lost； for
onything I would care。'
'Yes； but he's just like his looks。 The first thing he'll do the
next morning after I go home； will be to take me into his office； or
shop； as he calls it； and get down his books； and show me how many
barrels of herring I owe him； with the price of each。 To do him
justice； he only charges me wholesale。'
'What'll he do that for？'
'To urge on me the necessity of diligence； and the choice of a
profession；' answered Ericson； with a smile of mingled sadness and
irresolution。 'He will set forth what a loss the interest of the
money is； even if I should pay the principal； and remind me that
although he has stood my friend； his duty to his own family imposes
limits。 And he has at least a couple of thousand pounds in the
county bank。 I don't believe he would do anything for me but for
the honour it will be to the family to have a professional man in
it。 And yet my father was the making of him。'
'Tell me about your father。 What was he？'
'A gentle…minded man； who thought much and said little。 He farmed
the property that had been his father's own； and is now leased by my
fishy cousin afore mentioned。'
'And your mother？'
'She died just after I was born； and my father never got over it。'
'And you have no brothers or sisters？'
'No； not one。 Thank God for your grandmother； and do all you can to
please her。'
A silence followed； during which Robert's heart swelled and heaved
with devotion to Ericson； for notwithstanding his openness； there
was a certain sad coldness about him that restrained Robert from
letting out all the tide of his love。 The silence became painful；
and he broke it abruptly。
'What are you going to be； Mr。 Ericson？'
'I wish you could tell me； Robert。 What would you have me to be？
Come now。'
Robert thought for a moment。
'Weel； ye canna be a minister； Mr。 Ericson； 'cause ye dinna believe
in God； ye ken；' he said simply。
'Don't say that； Robert；' Ericson returned； in a tone of pain with
which no displeasure was mingled。 'But you are right。 At best I
only hope in God； I don't believe in him。'
'I'm thinkin' there canna be muckle differ atween houp an' faith；'
said Robert。 'Mony a ane 'at says they believe in God has unco
little houp o' onything frae 's han'； I'm thinkin'。'
My reader may have observed a little change for the better in
Robert's speech。 Dr。 Anderson had urged upon him the necessity of
being able at least to speak English； and he had been trying to
modify the antique Saxon dialect they used at Rothieden with the
newer and more refined English。 But even when I knew him； he would
upon occasion； especially when the subject was religion or music；
fall back into the broadest Scotch。 It was as if his heart could
not issue freely by any other gate than that of his grandmother
tongue。
Fearful of having his last remark contradictedfor he had an
instinctive desire that it should lie undisturbed where he had cast
it in the field of Ericson's mind； he hurried to another question。
'What for shouldna ye be a doctor？'
'Now you'll think me a fool； Robert； if I tell you why。'
'Far be it frae me to daur think sic a word； Mr。 Ericson！' said
Robert devoutly。
'Well； I'll tell you； whether or not；' returned Ericson。 'I could； I
believe； amputate a living limb with considerable coolness； but put
a knife in a dead body I could not。'
'I think I know what you mean。 Then you must he a lawyer。'
'A lawyer！ O Lord！' said Ericson。
'Why not？' asked Robert； in some wonderment； for he could not
imagine Ericson acting from mere popular prejudice or fancy。
'Just think of spending one's life in an atmosphere of squabbles。
It's all very well when one gets to be a judge and dispense
justice； butwell； it's not for me。 I could not do the best for my
clients。 And a lawyer has nothing to do with the kingdom of
heavenonly with his clients。 He must be a party…man。 He must
secure for one so often at the loss of the rest。 My duty and my
conscience would always be at strife。'
'Then what will you be； Mr。 Ericson？'
'To tell the truth； I would rather be a watchmaker than anything
else I know。 I might make one watch that would go right； I suppose；
if I lived long enough。 But no one would take an apprentice of my
age。 So I suppose I must be a tutor； knocked about from one house
to another； patronized by ex…pupils； and smiled upon as harmless by
mammas and sisters to the end of the chapter。 And then something of
a pauper's burial； I suppose。 Che sara sara。'
Ericson had sunk into one of his worst moods。 But when he saw
Robert looking unhappy； he changed his tone； and would bewhat he
could not bemerry。
'But what's the use of talking about it？' he said。 'Get your fiddle；
man； and play The Wind that shakes the Barley。'
'No； Mr。 Ericson；' answered Robert； 'I have no heart for the fiddle。
I would rather have some poetry。'
'Oh！Poetry！' returned Ericson； in a tone of contemptyet not very
hearty contempt。
'We're gaein' awa'； Mr。 Ericson；' said Robert； 'an' the Lord 'at we
ken naething aboot alane kens whether we'll ever meet again i' this
place。 And sae'
'True enough； my boy；' interrupted Ericson。 'I have no need to
trouble myself about the future。 I believe that is the real secret
of it after all。 I shall never want a profession or anything else。'
'What do you mean； Mr。 Ericson？' asked Robert； in half…defined
terror。
'I mean； my boy； that I shall not live long。 I know that