"And I promise that he shall have it," answered Archie. "I offer you my
hand in pledge of it."

"And I take your hand as a solemnity," replied the judge. "God bless
you, my dear, and enable you to keep your promise. God guide you in the
true way, and spare your days, and preserve to you your honest heart."
At that, he kissed the young man upon the forehead in a gracious,
distant, antiquated way; and instantly launched, with a marked change of
voice, into another subject. "And now, let us replenish the tankard;
and I believe if you will try my Cheddar again, you would find you had a
better appetite. The Court has spoken, and the case is dismissed."

"No, there is one thing I must say," cried Archie. "I must say it in
justice to himself. I know - I believe faithfully, slavishly, after our
talk - he will never ask me anything unjust. I am proud to feel it,
that we have that much in common, I am proud to say it to you."

The Judge, with shining eyes, raised his tankard. "And I think perhaps
that we might permit ourselves a toast," said he. "I should like to
propose the health of a man very different from me and very much my
superior - a man from whom I have often differed, who has often (in
the trivial expression) rubbed me the wrong way, but whom I have never
ceased to respect and, I may add, to be not a little afraid of. Shall
I give you his name?"

"The Lord Justice-Clerk, Lord Hermiston," said Archie, almost with
gaiety; and the pair drank the toast deeply.

It was not precisely easy to re-establish, after these emotional