Lying so together in the dark, man and dog fell into a sleep that was broken by Auld Jock’s fitful coughing and the abuse of his neighbors.  It was not until the wind had long died to a muffled murmur at the casements, and every other lodger was out, that Auld Jock slept soundly.  He awoke late to find Bobby waiting patiently on the floor and the bare cell flooded with white glory.  That could mean but one thing.  He stumbled dizzily to his feet and threw a sash aback.  Over the huddle of high housetops, the University towers and the scattered suburbs beyond, he looked away to the snow-clad slopes of the Pentlands, running up to heaven and shining under the pale winter sunshine.

“The snaw!  Eh, Bobby, but it’s a bonny sicht to auld een!” he cried, with the simple delight of a child.  He stooped to lift Bobby to the wonder of it, when the world suddenly went black and roaring around in his head.  Staggering back he crumpled up in a pitiful heap on the floor.

Bobby licked his master’s face and hands, and then sat quietly down beside him.  So many strange, uncanny things had happened within the last twenty-four hours that the little dog was rapidly outgrowing his irresponsible puppyhood.  After a long time Auld Jock opened his eyes and sat up.  Bobby put his paws on his master’s knees in anxious sympathy.  Before the man had got his wits about him the time-gun boomed from the Castle.  Panic-stricken that he should have slept in his bed so late, and then lain senseless on the floor for he knew not how long, Auld Jock got up and struggled into his greatcoat, bonnet and plaid.  In feeling for his woolen mittens he discovered the buns that Mr. Trail had dropped into his pocket for Bobby.

The old man stared and stared at them in piteous dismay.  Mr. Traill had believed him to be so ill that he “wouldna be oot the morn.”  It was a staggering thought.

The bells of St. Giles broke into “Over the Hills and Far Away.”  The melody came to Auld Jock clearly, unbroken by echoes, for the garret was on a level with the cathedral’s crown on High Street.  It brought to him again a vision of the Midlothian slopes, but it reminded Bobby that it was dinner-time.  He told Auld Jock so by running to the door and back and begging him, by every pretty wile at his command, to go.  The old man got to his feet and then fell back, pale and shaken, his heart hammering again.  Bobby ate the bun soberly and then sat up against Auld Jock’s feet, that dangled helplessly from the bed.  The bells died away from the man’s ears before they had ceased playing.  Both the church and the University bells struck the hour of two then three then four.  Daylight had begun to fail when Auld Jock stirred, sat up, and did a strange thing:  taking from his pocket a leather bag-purse that was closed by a draw-string, he counted the few crowns and shillings in it and the many smaller silver and copper coins.