"But I might prove—when we get back to Scotland—that you bore the name of Brian Luttrell for three or four-and-twenty years of your life."
"I am not going back to Scotland," said the young man, looking steadily and attentively at Percival's troubled countenance.
"Yes, you are. I promised that you should come back, and you must not make me break my word."
"Whom did you promise?"
"I promised Elizabeth."
And then the two men felt that the conversation had better cease. Percival walked rapidly away, while Brian, who could not walk anywhere, lay flat on his back and listened, with dreamy eyes, to the long monotonous rise and fall of the waves upon the shore.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH.
"Pollard's down with this fever," was the announcement which Percival made to Brian a few days later.