I mind when ye wad rin to sit astride my shoulder.

And ye used to like that fine!" There were tears in the eyes of the weak, cunning, treacherous-hearted man.

The lips of James Douglas quivered a little, and his voice failed him, as he strove to answer his father.

What he would have said none knows, but ere he could voice a word, the eyes of his brother, stern as the law given to Moses on the mount, were bent upon him.

He straightened himself up, and, with a look carefully averted from the palsied man before him, he said, in a steady tone, "What my brother William says, I say." His father looked at him again, as if still hoping against hope for some kinder word.