e thing a fact or a fancy? If a
fancy, how was he so weary? If a fact, how could it have been? Had he
in any way been the earl's companion through such a long night as it
seemed? Could they have visited all the places whose remembrance
lingered in his brain? He was so confused, so bewildered, so haunted
with a shadowy uneasiness almost like remorse, that he even dreaded the
discovery of the cause of it all. Might a man so lose hold of himself
as to be no more certain he had ever possessed or could ever possess
himself again?

He bethought himself at last that he might perhaps have taken more wine
than his head could stand. Yet he remembered leaving his glass
unemptied to follow the earl; and it was some time after that before
the change came! Could it have been drunkenness? Had it been slowly
coming without his knowing it? He could hardly believe it? But whatever
it was, it had left him unhappy, almost ashamed. What would the earl
think of him? He must have concluded him unfit any longer to keep
charge of his son! For his own part he did not feel he was to blame,
but rather that an accident had befallen him. Whence then this sense of
something akin to shame? Why should he be ashamed of anything coming
upon him from without? Of that shame he had to be ashamed, as of a lack
of faith in God! Would God leave his creature who trusted in him at the
mercy of a chance--of a glass of wine taken in ignorance? There was a
thing to be ashamed of, and with good cause!

He got up, found to his dismay that it was almost ten o'clock--his hour
for rising in winter being six--dressed in haste, and went down,
wondering that Davie had not come to see after him.

In the schoolroom he found him waiting for him. The boy sprang up, and
darted to meet him.

"I hope you are better, Mr. Grant!" he said. "I am so glad you are able
to be down!"

"I am quite well," answered Donal. "I can't think what made me sleep so
long? Why didn't you come and wake me, Davie, my boy?"

"Because Simmons told me you were ill, and I must not disturb you if
you were ever so late in coming down."

"I hardly deserve any breakfast!" said Donal, turning to the table;
"but if you will stand by me, and read while I take my coffee, we shall
save a little time so."

"Yes, sir.--But your coffee must be quite cold! I will ring."

"No, no; I must not waste any more time. A man who cannot drink cold
coffee ought to come down while it is hot."

"Forgue won't drink co