re there is no repugnance of the heart, as
there was in the other instance. Here are my blessed mother's features;
and nature tells me that you are--oh, distressing sight!--that you were
my brother."

"Keep silence," exclaimed Corbet, "you must hear me out. Thomas Gourlay,
there lies your son; I don't know what you may feel now that you know
he's your own--and well you know it;--but I know his sufferings gave you
very little trouble so long as you thought that he was the child of the
widow of your brother that was dead. Well now, my lord," he proceeded,
"you might think I've had very good revenge upon Thomas Gourlay; but
there's more to come."

"Attention!" from old Sam, in a voice that startled almost every one
present.

"Yes, my lord, I must fulfil my work. Stand forward, Sir Edward Gourlay.
Stand forward, and go to your affectionate mother's arms."

"I fear the old man is unsettled, certainly," said his lordship. "Sir
Edward Gourlay!--there is no Sir Edward Gourlay here."

"Attention, Ned!" exclaimed old Sam, again taking the head of his cane
out of his mouth, where it had got a merciless mumbling for some time
past. "Attention, Ned! you're called, my boy."

Old Corbet went over to Ensign Roberts, and taking him by the hand, led
him to Lady Gourlay, exclaiming, "There, my lady, is your son, and proud
you may be out of him. There is the real heir of the Gourlay name and
the Gourlay property. Look at him and his cousin, your niece, and see
how they resemble one another. Look at his father's features in
his face; but I have plenty of proof, full satisfaction to give you
besides."

Lady Gourlay became pale as death. "Mysterious and just Providence," she
exclaimed, "can this be true? But it is--it must--there are the features
of his departed father--his figure--his every look. He is mine!--he is
mine! My heart recognizes him. Oh, my son!--my child!--are you at length
restored to me?"

Young Roberts was all amazement. Whilst Lady Gourlay spoke, he looked
over at old Sam, whose son he actually believed himself to be (for the
fine old fellow had benevolently imposed on him), and seemed anxious to
know what this new parentage, now ascribed to him, could mean.

"All right, Ned! Corbet is good authority: but although I knew you were
not mine, I could never squeeze the truth out of him as to who your
father was. It's true, in spite of all he said, I had suspicions; but
what could I do?---I could prove nothing."

We