are mad."

"Bastard and impostor!" readied Anthony, "you appear before your time.
Thomas Gourlay, did you hear me?"

By an effort--almost a superhuman effort--the baronet succeeded in
turning his attention to what was going forward.

"What is this?" he exclaimed; "is this a tumult? Who dares to stir up
a tumult in such a scene as this? Begone!" said he, addressing several
strangers, who appeared to take a deep interest in what was likely to
ensue. The house was his own, and, as a matter of course, every one left
the room with the exception of those immediately connected with both
families, and with the incidents of our story.

"Let no one go," said Anthony, "that I appointed to come here."

"What!" said Dunroe, after the strangers had gone, and with a look that
indicated his sense of the baronet's duplicity, "is this gentleman your
son?"

"My acknowledged son, sir," replied the other.

"And, pray, were you aware of that this morning?"

"As clearly and distinctly as you were that you had no earthly claim to
the title which you bear, nor to the property of your father," replied
the baronet, with a look that matched that of the other. There they
stood, face to face, each detected in his dishonor and iniquity, and
on that account disqualified to recriminate upon each other, for their
mutual perfidy.

"Corbet," said the baronet, now recovering himself, "what is this?
Respect my house and family--respect my guests. Go home; I pardon
you this folly, because I see that you have been too liberal in your
potations this morning."

"You mistake me, sir," replied the adroit old man; "I am going to do you
a service. Call forward Thomas Gourlay."

This considerably relieved the baronet, who took it for granted that it
was his son whom he had called in the first instance.

"What!" exclaimed Lord Cullamore, "is it possible, Sir Thomas, that you
have recovered your lost son?"

"It is, my lord," replied the other. "Thomas, come over till I present
you to my dear friend Lord Cullamore."

Young Gourlay advanced, and the earl was in the act of extending his
hand to him, when old Anthony interposed, by drawing it back.

"Stop, my lord," said he; "that hand is the hand of a man of honor, but
you must not soil it by touchin' that of a bastard and impostor."

"That is my son, my lord," replied Sir Thomas, "and I acknowledge him as
such."

"So you may, sir," replied Corbet, "and so you ought; but I say that if
he is your son