"For no haein' a hoose ower their heads? That's some hard! What
gien ye was ae day to be in want o' ane yersel'!"

"We'll bide till the day comes.--But what are ye stan'in' there for?
Are ye comin' in, or are ye no?"

"It's a some cauld welcome!" said Donal. "I s' jist tak a luik aboot
afore I mak up my min'. A tramp, ye ken, needsna stan' upo'
ceremony."

He turned away and walked further along the street.




CHAPTER V.

THE COBBLER.

At the end of the street he came to a low-arched gateway in the
middle of a poor-looking house. Within it sat a little bowed man,
cobbling diligently at a boot. The sun had left behind him in the
west a heap of golden refuse, and cuttings of rose and purple, which
shone right in at the archway, and let him see to work. Here was
the very man for Donal! A respectable shoemaker would have
disdained to patch up the shoes he carried--especially as the owner
was in so much need of them.

"It's a bonny nicht," he said.