"Father," said he, "on my honour I wouldn't hurt you if I could help it,
but I'll not tell the world of the quarrel between that man and myself.
My silence may hurt you, but some one else would be hurt far more if I
told."

"By God, I think you're some mad dreamer slipped out of the ancient fold!
Do you know where you are? You're in jail. If you're found guilty,
you'll be sent to prison at least for the years that'll spoil the making
of your life; and you do it because you think you'll spare somebody.
Well, I ask you to spare me. I don't want the man that's going to
inherit my name, when my time comes, to bring foulness on it. We've been
a rough race, we Calhouns; we've done mad, bad things, perhaps, but none
has shamed us before the world--none but you."

"I have never shamed you, Miles Calhoun," replied his son sharply. "As
the ancients said, 'alis volat propriis'--I will fly with my own wings.
Come weal, come woe, come dark, come light, I have fixed my mind, and
nothing shall change it. You loved my mother better than the rest of the
world. You would have thought it no shame to have said so to your own
father. Well, I say it to you--I'll stand by what my conscience and my
soul have dictated to me. You call me a dreamer. Let it be so. I'm
Irish; I'm a Celt. I've drunk deep of all that Ireland means. All
that's behind me is my own, back to the shadowy kings of Ireland, who
lost life and gave it because they believed in what they did. So will I.
If I'm to walk the hills no more on the estate where you are master, let
it be so. I have no fear; I want no favour. If it is to be prison, then
it shall be prison. If it is to be shame, then let it be shame. These
are days when men must suffer if they make mistakes. Well, I will
suffer, fearlessly if helplessly, but I will not break the oath which I