an ill-cooked mutton chop and a tankard of very flat ale. Gowrie treated himself to another steaming glass of gin and water, talking while his ex-pupil devoured his welcome meal. Elspeth wandered in and out of the room on various errands. Mrs. Narby, busy in the kitchen, presumably, did not present her lovely self, and the poet was also absent, probably being engaged in fascinating the unknown gentleman, in the hope of obtaining the patronage he seemed to contemn.

"And why are ye here, laddie?" demanded Gowrie, inquisitively.

"I come from Pierside," explained Herries, carelessly, "there I left a tramp schooner, on which I had shipped as doctor."

"Aye, aye, that's it. I mind ye studied medicine."

"I have studied everything," said Herries shrugging. "As you know, Mr. Gowrie, my parents left me just sufficient to provide me with an education, and a few pounds over to start me in life. I got my degree, and then began to practice in a London suburb. I failed there, and tried another, failed again and tried a third. Then I went on the stage, that refuge of the destitute, and could not make that pay. Finally I joined a gipsy ship as doctor, and have been frizzling and shivering in several parts of the world for years. Since then I have fared no better, and my last adventure was in an Arctic sealer. I left her, as I said, at Pierside, being unable to stomach the brutality of her captain any longer. Now I am on my way to Tarhaven to see an old medical friend, who may help me. That is my history, as sad as your own, Mr. Gowrie; but," this with a glance at the dissipated face, "perhaps more respectable."

"How do you make that out?" asked the other in his best English.

"I have never been a drunkard," said Angus significantly.

"It's no decent tae speak to me yon way," fumed the elder man, wincing.

"Isn't it the truth?

"Weel, ye dinna look varra drunk, I'll say that. Aye, I'll say that."

"I am not talking of myself, Mr. Gowrie, but of you. Any one can see how you come to be here."

"Weel, weel," cried the ex-minister testily, "there's nae mair to be said. Ma sin's nae yer sin, but I doot ye've a glass hoose of your ain. What will ye do now?"

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