you done with the child of your eldest brother, the lawful heir of the
property and title that you now bear, and bear unjustly."

He was much startled by this allusion, for although aware that the
disappearance of the child in question had been for many long years well
known, yet, involved, as it was, in unaccountable mystery, still the
circumstance had never been forgotten.

"That's an old story, my good woman," he replied. "You don't charge me,
I hope, as some have done, with making away with him? You might as well
charge me with kidnapping my own son, you foolish woman, who, you know,
I suppose, disappeared very soon after the other."

"I know he did," she replied; "but neither I nor any one else ever
charged you with that act; and I know there are a great many of opinion
that both acts were committed by some common enemy to your house, who
wished, for some unknown cause of hatred, to extinguish your whole
family. That is, indeed, the best defence you have for the disappearance
of your brother's son; but, mark me, Thomas Gourlay--that defence will
not pass with God, with me, nor with your own heart. I have my own
opinion upon that subject, as well as upon many others. You may ask your
own conscience, Thomas Gourlay, but he'll be a close friend of yours
that will ever hear its answer."

"And is this all you had to say to me, you ill-thinking old vermin." he
replied, again losing his temper.

"No," she answered, "I wish to tell your fortune; and you will do well
to listen to me."