lordship’s pardon for disagreeing!"

"This parchment is yours, and I perceive that a far-seeing eye has drawn the coming centuries together into one scroll of only sixteen pages!"

"I wrote it not," replied Duncan.

"You cannot foil me by your denials!" said the excited lord, "You have a rare gift of writing, a perfect hand with the pen, and a prophet's vision!"

"I know nothing of these things," said Duncan, "I be your lordship's ploughman, though I have done no ploughing these three days!"

"You shall never break the soil again!" said the lord, "You are destined to elevation. You shall dine with royalty!"

"Does this mean I may have new sod for my chimney?" asked Duncan.

"You shall have not only sod, but fine marble, with a grand house of your own! Lords and ladies shall wait upon you! Even his majesty the king shall call upon you for advice!"

"I know nothing of kings," said Duncan, "For they be wiser and richer than all the peasants of England put together!"

"You shall soon change your mind!" said lord Smythe, "For I am determined that not many days hence, you shall ride with me to the castle, where I shall present you to his majesty the king of England!"

"That would be a very great honour," said Duncan.

"I shall be famous!" said lord Smythe rather loudly.

"And I dare say I will be too!" thought Duncan.

Lord Smythe went back to his study to read more of the newspaper, which left Duncan sitting in the silk-covered chair beside the fire. He gave a contented sigh and settled back into the comfortable chair, his stockinged legs up on a foot-stool, and a glass of wine in his cracked, worn fingers. The fire spat tiny sparks as a servant placed another log on the grate, the wolf hound raised its sleepy head for a moment and looked at something, and the servant wheeled the trolley of half-eaten food away.

Duncan reluctantly, guiltily, fell asleep.