“'It has been so eight years, sir.'
“'And I had not a gray hair till my seventy-second year,—not one. I told Beattie, t' other day, that the race of the strong was dying out. Good heavens, how old you look! Would any one believe in seeing us that you could be my son?'
“'I feel perhaps even more than I look it, sir.'
“'I could swear you did. You are the very stamp of those fellows who plead guilty—“Guilty, my Lord; we throw ourselves on the mercy of the court.” I don't know how the great judgment-seat regards these pleas,—with me they meet only scorn. Give me the man who says, “Try me, test me.” Drop that curtain, and draw the screen across the fire. Speak lower, too, my dear,' said he, in a weak soft voice; 'you suffer yourself to grow excited, and you excite me.'
“'I will be more cautious, sir,' said I.
“'What are these drops he is giving me? They have an acrid sweet taste.'
“'Aconite, sir; a weak solution.'
“'They say that our laws never forgot feudalism, but I declare I believe medicine has never been able to ignore alchemy: drop me out twenty, I see that your hand does not shake. Strange thought, is it not, to feel that a little phial like that could make a new Baron of the Exchequer? You have heard, I suppose, of the attempts—the indecent attempts—to induce me to resign. You have heard what they say of my age. They quote the registry of my baptism, as though it were the date of a conviction. I have yet to learn that the years a man has devoted to his country's service are counts in the indictment against his character. Age has been less merciful to me than to my fellows,—it has neither made me deaf to rancor nor blind to ingratitude. I told the Lord-Lieutenant so yesterday.'
“'You saw him then, sir?' asked I.
“'Yes, he was gracious enough to call here; he sent his secretary to ask if I would receive a visit from him. I thought that a little more tact might have been expected from a man in his station,—it is the common gift of those in high places. I perceive,' added he, after a pause, 'you don't see what I mean. It is this: royalties, or mock royalties, for they are the same in this, condescend to these visits as deathbed attentions. They come to us with their courtesies as the priest comes with his holy cruet, only when they have the assurance that we are beyond recovery. His Excellency ought to have felt that the man to whom he proposed this attention was not one to misunderstand its significance.'