"It is an unquestionable truth, Hugh," replied the traveller. "For which
reason I regret that your voyage was delayed."

"Nay, that is a hard word to bestow on your old comrade," said Hugh
Crombie. "The world is wide enough for both of us; and why should you wish
me out of it?"

"Wide as it is," rejoined the stranger, "we have stumbled against each
other,--to the pleasure of neither of us, if I may judge from your
countenance. Methinks I am not a welcome guest at Hugh Crombie's inn."

"Your welcome must depend on the cause of your coming, and the length of
your stay," replied the landlord.

"And what if I come to settle down among these quiet hills where I was
born?" inquired the other. "What if I, too, am weary of the life we have
led,--or afraid, perhaps, that it will come to too speedy an end? Shall I
have your good word, Hugh, to set me up in an honest way of life? Or will
you make me a partner in your trade, since you know my qualifications? A
pretty pair of publicans should we be; and the quart pot would have little
rest between us."

"It may be as well to replenish it now," observed Hugh, stepping to the
door of the room, and giving orders accordingly. "A meeting between old
friends should never be dry. But for the partnership, it is a matter in
which you must excuse me. Heaven knows I find it hard enough to be honest,
with no tempter but the Devil and my own thoughts; and, if I have you also
to contend with, there is little hope of me."

"Nay, that is true. Your good resolutions were always like cobwebs, and