"There's rayson in that," said Dan.
"Aye, but the boy," said his left-hand companion; "see what a glorious life the heir to such a wealthy man would lead."
"That sets me heart bubblin' like a bilin' pot," cried Dan, joyously.
"You are resolved, then, to be ruled by me?" demanded the suggester of evil thoughts.
"Indeed, and I am, that I am, just for the sake of the babby," said Dan.
"Follow, and I will point out a way," said the dark spirit, gliding towards the door. Dan made a movement to follow, when his footsteps were arrested by a chorus of invisible voices, small, but distinct, and musical as a choir of singing birds, that appeared to sound within his very brain, so that he heard every word as clearly as though he had uttered it himself.
Every mortal has his grief:
Each one thinks that his is chief.
Better keep your present lot,
Than to tempt—you don't know what.