which lies around him his own. So he spent the greater parts of
several evenings in wandering about the neighbourhood; till at
length the moonlight failed him. Another cause was, that, in the
act of searching for some books for his boys, in an old garret of
the house, which was at once lumber room and library, he came upon
some stray volumes of the Waverley novels, with which he was as yet
only partially acquainted. These absorbed many of his spare hours.
But one evening, while reading the Heart of Midlothian, the thought
struck him--what a character David would have been for Sir Walter.
Whether he was right or not is a question; but the notion brought
David so vividly before him, that it roused the desire to see him.
He closed the book at once, and went to the cottage.

"We're no lik'ly to ca' ye onything but a stranger yet, Maister
Sutherlan'," said David, as he entered.

"I've been busy since I saw you," was all the excuse Hugh offered.

"Weel, ye'r welcome noo; and ye've jist come in time after a', for
it's no that mony hours sin' I fand it oot awthegither to my ain
settisfaction."

"Found out what?" said Hugh; for he had forgotten all about the
perplexity in which he had left David, and which had been occupying
his thoughts ever since their last interview.

"Aboot the cross-bow an' the birdie, ye ken," answered David, in a
tone of surprise.

"Yes, to be sure. How stupid of me!" said Hugh.