"And God forbid," said Seignor Philipson, "that I should tempt thee to weigh them against each other!--Go on, then, my son--I follow thee." "Under your favour, dearest sir, no," replied the young man; "it is enough to endanger the life of one--and mine, far the most worthless, should, by all the rules of wisdom as well as nature, be put first in hazard." "No, Arthur," replied his father, in a determined voice; "no, my son--I have survived much, but I will not survive thee." "I fear not for the issue, father, if you permit me to go alone; but I cannot--dare not--undertake a task so perilous, if you persist in attempting to share it, with no better aid than mine. While I endeavoured to make a new advance, I should be ever looking back to see how you might attain the station which I was about to leave--And bethink you, dearest father, that if I fall, I fall an unregarded thing, of as little moment as the stone or tree which has toppled headlong down before me. But you--should your foot slip, or your hand fail, bethink you what and how much must needs fall with you!" "Thou art right, my child," said the father. "I still have that which binds me to life, even though I were to lose in thee all that is dear to me.--Our Lady and our Lady's Knight bless thee and prosper thee, my child! Thy foot is young, thy hand is strong--thou hast not climbed Plynlimmon in vain. Be bold, but be wary--remember there is a man who, failing thee, has but one act of duty to bind him to the earth, and, that discharged, will soon follow thee."