children in want of a tutor.

The sun was setting over the hills behind him as he entered the
little town. At first it looked but a village, for on the
outskirts, through which the king's highway led, were chiefly
thatched cottages, with here and there a slated house of one story
and an attic; but presently began to appear houses of larger
size--few of them, however, of more than two stories. Most of them
looked as if they had a long and not very happy history. All at
once he found himself in a street, partly of quaint gables with
corbel steps; they called them here corbie-steps, in allusion,
perhaps, to the raven sent out by Noah, for which lazy bird the
children regarded these as places to rest. There were two or three
curious gateways in it with some attempt at decoration, and one
house with the pepperpot turrets which Scotish architecture has
borrowed from the French chateau. The heart of the town was a yet
narrower, close-built street, with several short closes and wynds
opening out of it--all of which had ancient looking houses. There
were shops not a few, but their windows were those of dwellings, as
the upper parts of their buildings mostly were. In those shops was
as good a supply of the necessities of life as in a great town, and
cheaper. You could not get a coat so well cut, nor a pair of shoes
to fit you so tight without hurting, but you could get first-rate
work. The streets were unevenly paved with round, water-worn
stones: Donal was not sorry that he had not to walk far upon them.

The setting sun sent his shadow before him as he entered the place.
He kept the middle of the street, looking on this side and that for
the hostelry whither he had despatched his chest before leaving
home. A gloomy building, apparently uninhabited, drew his