"Oh! Dr. Renton, excuse me, sir; I didn't mean doing any harm."
"James, my daughter gave you an undirected letter this evening; you carried it to one of my houses in Hanover street. Is that true?"
"Ye-yes, sir. I couldn't help it. I only did what she told me, sir."
"James, if my daughter told you to set fire to this house, what would you do?"
"I wouldn't do it, sir," he stammered, after some hesitation.
"You wouldn't? James, if my daughter ever tells you to set fire to this house, do it, sir! Do it. At once. Do whatever she tells you. Promptly. And I'll back you."
The man stared wildly at him, as he received this astonishing command. Dr. Renton was perfectly grave, and had spoken slowly and seriously. The man was at his wits' end.
"You'll do it James—will you?"
"Ye-yes, sir, certainly."
"That's right. James, you're a good fellow. James, you've got a family—a wife and children—hav'n't you?"