Scarcely was he seated, when Ericson spoke—a smile flickering over his worn face.
'Robert, my boy,' he said.
'Dinna speak,' said Robert, in alarm; 'dinna speak, Mr. Ericson.'
'Nonsense,' returned Ericson, feebly. 'They're making a work about nothing. I've done as much twenty times since I saw you last, and I'm not dead yet. But I think it's coming.'
'What's coming?' asked Robert, rising in alarm.
'Nothing,' answered Ericson, soothingly,—'only death.—I should like to see Miss St. John once before I die. Do you think she would come and see me if I were really dying?'
'I'm sure she wad. But gin ye speik like this, Miss Letty winna lat me come near ye, no to say her. Oh, Mr. Ericson! gin ye dee, I sanna care to live.'
Bethinking himself that such was not the way to keep Ericson quiet, he repressed his emotion, sat down behind the curtain, and was silent. Ericson fell fast asleep. Robert crept from the room, and telling Miss Letty that he would return presently, went to Miss St. John.
'How can I go to Aberdeen without him?' he thought as he walked down the street.
Neither was a guide to the other; but the questioning of two may give just the needful points by which the parallax of a truth may be gained.