“Tell me something of your history: where were you born? what were your parents?”
Donal told him all he thought it of any consequence he should know.
His lordship did not once interrupt him with question or remark. When he had ended—
“Well,” he said, “I like all you tell me. You have testimonials?”
“I have from the professors, my lord, and one from the minister of the parish, who knew me before I went to college. I could get one from Mr. Sclater too, whose church I attended while there.”
“Show me what you have,” said his lordship.
Donal took the papers from the pocket-book his mother had made him, and handed them to him. The earl read them with some attention, returning each to him without remark as he finished it, only saying with the last,
“Quite satisfactory.”
“But,” said Donal, “there is one thing I should be more at ease if I told your lordship: Mr. Carmichael, the minister of this parish, would tell you I was an atheist, or something very like it—therefore an altogether unsafe person. But he knows nothing of me.”
“On what grounds then would he say so?” asked the earl—showing not the least discomposure. “I thought you were a stranger to this place!”