'No, Shargar,' said Robert, 'I can't have you with me. I've come into trouble, Shargar, and I must fight it out alone.'
'Ay, ay; I ken. Puir Mr. Ericson!'
'There's nothing the matter with Mr. Ericson. Don't ask me any questions. I've said more to you now than I've said to anybody besides.'
'That is guid o' you, Robert. But am I never to see ye again?'
'I don't know. Perhaps we may meet some day.'
'Perhaps is nae muckle to say, Robert,' protested Shargar.
'It's more than can be said about everything, Shargar,' returned Robert, sadly.
'Weel, I maun jist tak it as 't comes,' said Shargar, with a despairing philosophy derived from the days when his mother thrashed him. 'But, eh! Robert, gin it had only pleased the Almichty to sen' me into the warl' in a some respectable kin' o' a fashion!'
'Wi' a chance a' gaein' aboot the country like that curst villain yer brither, I suppose?' retorted Robert, rousing himself for a moment.
'Na, na,' responded Shargar. 'I'll stick to my ain mither. She never learned me sic tricks.'