'I should be apt to make it out, OUR RIGHT MAKES OUR MIGHT.'

'I believe it is something of that kind,' said Glossin.

'May I ask, sir,' said the stranger, 'if it is your family motto?'

'N--n--no--no--not ours. That is, I believe, the motto of the
former people; mine is--mine is--in fact, I have had some
correspondence with Mr. Cumming of the Lyon Office in Edinburgh
about mine. He writes me the Glossins anciently bore for a motto,
"He who takes it, makes it."'

'If there be any uncertainty, sir, and the case were mine,' said
Bertram, 'I would assume the old motto, which seems to me the
better of the two.'

Glossin, whose tongue by this time clove to the roof of his mouth,
only answered by a nod.

'It is odd enough,' said Bertram, fixing his eye upon the arms and
gateway, and partly addressing Glossin, partly as it were thinking
aloud--'it is odd the tricks which our memory plays us. The
remnants of an old prophecy, or song, or rhyme of some kind or
other, return to my recollection on hearing that motto; stay--it
is a strange jingle of sounds:--

The dark shall be light,
And the wrong made right,
When Bertram's right and Bertram's might
Shall meet on---