SHARGAR ASPIRES.
Robert's heart was dreary when he got on the box-seat of the mail-coach at Rothieden--it was yet drearier when he got down at The Royal Hotel in the street of Ben Accord--and it was dreariest of all when he turned his back on Ericson's, and entered his own room at Mrs.Fyvie's.
Shargar had met him at the coach.Robert had scarcely a word to say to him.And Shargar felt as dreary as Robert when he saw him sit down, and lay his head on the table without a word.
'What's the maitter wi' ye, Robert?' he faltered out at last.'Gin ye dinna speyk to me, I'll cut my throat.I will, faith!'
'Haud yer tongue wi' yer nonsense, Shargar.Mr.Ericson's deein'.'
'O lord!' said Shargar, and said nothing more for the space of ten minutes.
Then he spoke again--slowly and sententiously.
'He hadna you to tak care o' him, Robert.Whaur is he?'
'At The Boar's Heid.'
'That's weel.He'll be luikit efter there.'
'A body wad like to hae their ain han' in 't, Shargar.'
'Ay.I wiss we had him here again.'
The ice of trouble thus broken, the stream of talk flowed more freely.
'Hoo are ye gettin' on at the schule, man?' asked Robert.
'Nae that ill,' answered Shargar.'I was at the heid o' my class yesterday for five meenits.'
'An' hoo did ye like it?'
'Man, it was fine.I thocht I was a gentleman a' at ance.'
'Haud ye at it, man,' said Robert, as if from the heights of age and experience, 'and maybe ye will be a gentleman some day.'
'Is 't poassible, Robert? A crater like me grow intil a gentleman?'
said Shargar, with wide eyes.
'What for no?' returned Robert.
'Eh, man!' said Shargar.
He stood up, sat down again, and was silent.
'For ae thing,' resumed Robert, after a pause, during which he had been pondering upon the possibilities of Shargar's future--'for ae thing, I doobt whether Dr.Anderson wad hae ta'en ony fash aboot ye, gin he hadna thocht ye had the makin' o' a gentleman i' ye.'
'Eh, man!' said Shargar.
He stood up again, sat down again, and was finally silent.
Next day Robert went to see Dr.Anderson, and told him about Ericson.The doctor shook his head, as doctors have done in such cases from ?sculapius downwards.Robert pressed no further questions.
'Will he be taken care of where he is?' asked the doctor.
'Guid care o',' answered Robert.
'Has he any money, do you think?'
'I hae nae doobt he has some, for he's been teachin' a' the summer.
The like o' him maun an' will work whether they're fit or no.'
'Well, at all events, you write, Robert, and give him the hint that he's not to fash himself about money, for I have more than he'll want.And you may just take the hint yourself at the same time, Robert, my boy,' he added in, if possible, a yet kinder tone.
Robert's way of showing gratitude was the best way of all.He returned kindness with faith.
'Gin I be in ony want, doctor, I'll jist rin to ye at ance.An' gin I want ower muckle ye maun jist say na.'
'That's a good fellow.You take things as a body means them.'
'But hae ye naething ye wad like me to do for ye this session, sir?'
'No.I won't have you do anything but your own work.You have more to do than you had last year.Mind your work; and as often as you get tired over your books, shut them up and come to me.You may bring Shargar with you sometimes, but we must take care and not make too much of him all at once.'
'Ay, ay, doctor.But he's a fine crater, Shargar, an' I dinna think he'll be that easy to blaud.What do you think he's turnin' ower i'
that reid heid o' his noo?'
'I can't tell that.But there's something to come out of the red head, I do believe.What is he thinking of?'
'Whether it be possible for him ever to be a gentleman.Noo I tak that for a good sign i' the likes o' him.'
'No doubt of it.What did you say to him?'
'I tellt him 'at hoo I didna think ye wad hae ta'en sae muckle fash gin ye hadna had some houps o' the kin' aboot him.'
'You said well.Tell him from me that I expect him to be a gentleman.And by the way, Robert, do try a little, as I think Isaid to you once before, to speak English.I don't mean that you should give up Scotch, you know.'
'Weel, sir, I hae been tryin'; but what am I to do whan ye speyk to me as gin ye war my ain father? I canna min' upo' a word o' English whan ye do that.'
Dr.Anderson laughed, but his eyes glittered.
Robert found Shargar busy over his Latin version.With a 'Weel, Shargar,' he took his books and sat down.A few moments after, Shargar lifted his head, stared a while at Robert, and then said,'Duv you railly think it, Robert?'
'Think what? What are ye haverin' at, ye gowk?'
'Duv ye think 'at I ever could grow intil a gentleman?'
'Dr.Anderson says he expecs 't o' ye.'
'Eh, man!'
A long pause followed, and Shargar spoke again.
'Hoo am I to begin, Robert?'
'Begin what?'
'To be a gentleman.'
Robert scratched his head, like Brutus, and at length became oracular.
'Speyk the truth,' he said.
'I'll do that.But what aboot--my father?'
'Naebody 'ill cast up yer father to ye.Ye need hae nae fear o'
that.'
'My mither, than?' suggested Shargar, with hesitation.
'Ye maun haud yer face to the fac'.'
'Ay, ay.But gin they said onything, ye ken--aboot her.'
'Gin ony man-body says a word agen yer mither, ye maun jist knock him doon upo' the spot.'
'But I michtna be able.'
'Ye could try, ony gait.'
'He micht knock me down, ye ken.'
'Weel, gae doon than.'
'Ay.'
This was all the instruction Robert ever gave Shargar in the duties of a gentleman.And I doubt whether Shargar sought further enlightenment by direct question of any one.He worked harder than ever; grew cleanly in his person, even to fastidiousness; tried to speak English; and a wonderful change gradually, but rapidly, passed over his outer man.He grew taller and stronger, and as he grew stronger, his legs grew straighter, till the defect of approximating knees, the consequence of hardship, all but vanished.His hair became darker, and the albino look less remarkable, though still he would remind one of a vegetable grown in a cellar.
