And, in courtesy, the poor gentleman paused exactly where his friend had done. “Well, Everage, I was severely wounded, and, in the illness that followed, I came nearer facing my Judge than I ever expected to do, without hearing my sentence. In the convalescence that followed, you may believe that I was brought to very serious reflection. Among other subjects, I thought of you, Everage, and took myself to task for not having done so before—nay, now, do not shrink and turn from me; I mean no such an impertinence as patronage to you, Everage. I would just as soon venture to patronize one of the royal princes. But I thought of a plan for improving the circumstances of your family, which even you might meet without detriment to your honest pride.” “Oh, Heaven! oh, Heaven, have mercy on me!” groaned the poor gentleman. “Everage, you are exhausted; you really _must_ have something,” said Alick. And he rang for a waiter, and ordered brandy; which was quickly brought. Everage gulped a small glassful and then said: “You thought of me—you thought of me on your sick-bed! You think of me still in your days of deep affliction! for you _cannot_ have come to London without learning the loss of——” Everage’s voice broke down in sobs. “My child? yes; I learned the loss from the newspapers—from the very first newspapers that fell into my hands after I was convalescent. I have thought of little else since my arrival. For the last eight days, I have done nothing but devise and carry out plans for his recovery. But, this morning, I remembered you and your affairs, and reproached myself for forgetting them. So, now——” “But, about your child,—how _can_ you think of any one or of anything while he is missing?” “Because I cherish a great faith that I shall soon find him. But about your affairs. I wish to speak of _them_,” said Alick. The poor gentleman waved his hand with a gesture of resignation and became silent. “Everage, on that bed of illness and self-examination, I made many a retrospection of my past life, and many a resolution for my future one. Among my retrospections was a review of my motives in going to so much trouble and expense in establishing my claim to the Barony of Killcrichtoun, which I really did not want. I believe now that my only incentives to that action were idleness and _ennui_. I had nothing to do; and I was weary of my life. But having made the discovery of my descent from the old baron, I took some little interest in tracing back the lineage; and found some little excitement in following up the investigation and proving my claim. But as soon as all that was over and I found myself addressed on all sides as ‘Lord Killcrichtoun,’ ‘your lordship,’ and ‘my lord,’—on my soul, Everage, I felt heartily ashamed of myself and title——”