"Sir," said Philip bitterly, "your last command I can obey, though it would be with a sad heart--though it would be in despair--your first I cannot--I will not!" "You must--you _shall_!" replied the Covenanter. "Never," answered Philip. "Then," replied the old man, "leave the roof that has sheltered ye frae yer cradle!" "I will!" said Philip, and the tears ran down his cheeks. He walked towards Mary, and, with a faltering voice, said--"Farewell, Mary!--Farewell! I did not expect this; but do not forget me--do not give your hand to another--and we shall meet again!" "You shall not!" interrupted the inexorable old man. Mary implored her father, for her sake, and for the sake of her departed mother, who had loved Philip as her own son, that he would not drive him from the house, and Daniel, too, entreated; but their supplications were vain. "Farewell, then!" said Philip; "and, though I depart in misery, let it not be with thy curse, but let the blessing of him who has been to me a father until now, go with me." "The blessin' o' Heaven be wi' ye and around ye, Philip!" groaned the Covenanter, struggling to conceal a tear: "but, if ye will follow the dictates o' yer rebellious heart and leave us, tak wi' ye yer property." "My property!" replied Philip. "Yer property," returned the old man. "Twenty years has it lain in that drawer, an' during that time eyes hae not seen it, nor fingers touched it. It will assist ye noo; an' when ye enter the warld, may throw some light upon yer parentage." He went to a small drawer, and, unlocking it, took out the jewels, the bracelet, the ring, and the purse of gold, and, placing them in Philip's hands, exclaimed--"Fareweel!--fareweel!--but it maun be!" and he turned away his head. "O Mary!" cried Philip, "keep--keep this in remembrance of me," as he attempted to place the ring in her hand. "Awa, sir!" exclaimed the old man, vehemently, "wad ye bribe my bairn into disobedience, by the ornaments o' folly an' iniquity! Awa, ye son o' Belial, an' provoke me not to wrath!" Philip groaned, he dashed his hand upon his brow, and rushed from the house. Mary wept long and bitterly, and Daniel walked to and fro across the room, mourning for one whom he loved as a brother. The old man went out into the fields to conceal the agony of his spirit; and, when he had wandered for a while, he communed with himself, saying, "I hae dune foolishly, an' an ungodly action hae I performed this nicht; I hae driven oot a young man upon a wicked warld, wi' a' his sins an' his follies on his head; an', if evil come upon him, or he plunge into the paths o' wickedness, his bluid an' his guilt will be laid at my hands! Puir Philip!" he added; "after a', he had a kind heart!" And the stern old man drew the sleeve of his coat across his eyes. In this frame of mind he returned to the house. "Has Philip not come back?" said he, as he entered. His son shook his head sorrowfully, and Mary sobbed more bitterly.