So is there a great world beyond them with which they hold a frightful relationship--that of unrecognized, unattempted duty! Lord Mergwain regarded the odd-looking laird as a fool; the laird looked on him with something of the pity an angel must feel for the wretch to whom he is sent to give his last chance, ere sorer measures be taken in which angels are not the ministers.
But the wine was at last beginning to work its too oft repeated and now nearly exhausted influence on the sagging and much frayed nerves of the old man.

A yellowish remnant of withered rose began to smear his far-off west: he dared not look to the east; that lay terribly cold and gray; and he smiled with a little curl of his lip now and then, as he thought of this and that advantage he had had in the game of life, for alas! it had never with him risen to the dignity of a battle.

He was as proud of a successful ruse, as a hero of a well fought and well won field.

"I had him there!" stood with him for the joy of work done and salvation wrought.

It was a repulsive smile--one that might move even to hatred the onlooker who was not yet divine enough to let the outrushing waves of pity swamp his human judgment.