More brains you may have, and wealth you have, but not more common sense than any common man like me.

If the spirit moved you to hold your peace, it moves me to make you speak.

With all your meek face you've been a hard, stiff-necked man, a tyrant too, and as much an aristocrat to such as me as any lord in the land.

But I've drunk the mug of silence to the bottom.

I've--" He stopped short, seeing a strange look come over the other's face, then stepped forward quickly as the old man half rose from his chair, murmuring thickly: "Mercy--David, my lord, come--!" he muttered, and staggered, and fell into Soolsby's arms.
His head dropped forward on his breast, and with a great sigh he sank into unconsciousness.