His greedy eyes watched the dancing flames, and he rubbed the thin palms in triumph, while he sipped his nightly glass of Highland whisky grog.

It had been a famous secret campaign for the surviving brother.
"If all goes on well; all goes well!" he crooned.

"There's Douglas, gone for good! The boy is young and soft-like.

He might fall into this pert minx's hands as young Douglas with Queen Mary of old.

And, thank God, he knows nothing of the packet of jewels! Not a soul knows in the wide world! Why should I not save them for myself and turn them into gold?
Yes, save them for myself.