"I fear you are incapable of doing me justice," sighed Murray. "You should know that I have always labored to serve higher ends than the mere sordid pursuit of money, such as has possessed you and those like you."
He wagged his head sadly.
"I had hoped better of you, Ormerod. You are of good blood, man. 'Sdeath, do you never think on what you lose by playing the small colonial merchant here?"
"I think better of the estate I won unaided, with my bare hands and wits, than of the manor I lost in England through youthful folly," rejoined my father. "But I never thought to hear a pirate prate of the blessings of birth. Phaugh!"
Murray's face purpled, and a Scots burr crept into his speech.
"No man challenges my birth," he shouted. "I am of better blood than you. I trace my lineage to James V. I quarter my arms with the Douglases, the Homes, the Morays, the Keiths, the Hepburns, aye, and with the oldest clans beyond the Highland Line!"
"I have heard so before," commented my father drily.
Murray breathed deeply, obviously fighting for self-control.
"Let it pass!" he exclaimed with a magnificent gesture. "What doth it signify? I am what I am, sir—and the day comes when I shall stand as high as the highest."
He drew himself up very erect in his chair, but my father answered with the same dry scorn: