"I do, I do," exclaimed the Earl, warmly. "One, accustomed to deal largely with men, judges them fully as much by the countenance as by the words. I remember well when your father and I were studying together, in deep seclusion, with a good minister in Ayrshire, and were told to read the historian Thucydides, we could make nothing of him, though we knew a little of Greek, till your father got from Edinburgh a copy of the work with copious notes in Latin at the bottom of the page. In a moment it became all clear, and we found how often we had been mistaken in our supposed interpretations. Thus one foreign language served to elucidate another; and I have often since had occasion to think that the expressions of a man's face are the notes which the grand commentator, Nature, has given us for the right understanding of his words. I do believe you, sincerely, and think I can insure that you shall not be molested during the three months you propose to stay, provided you pledge yourself to avoid all meddling with the politics of the country." "I thank your lordship heartily," replied Smeaton, "and fully accept the terms." Then, changing the subject suddenly, he added, "I was not aware that your lordship had studied with my father. He, being a second son, was intended, at first, to be educated for the bar." "I also was a second son," said Lord Stair, in a low voice, with the expression of his face changing to a look of the deepest melancholy, "I was a second son, but not then, not then. This fatal hand had by that time done the deed." The surprise which Smeaton felt at the sudden change in manner, tone, and look, and at the strange words of Lord Stair, could not be prevented from appearing on his countenance, and the Earl, whose eyes were fixed upon him, said, "You do not know the story. It is a sad one, but I often force myself to tell it, and there is something strange in your coming here to-night. The moment before you entered, I had the letter now before me in my hand--the letter of recall out of a long and unjust banishment from the bosom of my family. To your father's kindness and support during those long dark years, I owe much, and I may as well tell you how it all happened." Smeaton replied in a few common-place words of interest, for there are times when nothing is appropriate but a common-place. The Earl heard him not, however, but kept gazing into vacancy, with a contracted brow and somewhat haggard eye.