is selfish now that he is old; and the
latter end of all these pretty manners and fine feelings you have seen
for yourself."

"Well, sir," said I, "and in all this, what is my position?"

"The estate is yours beyond a doubt," replied the lawyer. "It matters
nothing what your father signed, you are the heir of entail. But your
uncle is a man to fight the indefensible; and it would be likely your
identity that he would call in question. A lawsuit is always expensive,
and a family lawsuit always scandalous; besides which, if any of your
doings with your friend Mr. Thomson were to come out, we might find that
we had burned our fingers. The kidnapping, to be sure, would be a court
card upon our side, if we could only prove it. But it may be difficult
to prove; and my advice (upon the whole) is to make a very easy bargain
with your uncle, perhaps even leaving him at Shaws, where he has taken
root for a quarter of a century, and contenting yourself in the
meanwhile with a fair provision."

I told him I was very willing to be easy, and that to carry family
concerns before the public was a step from which I was naturally much
averse. In the meantime (thinking to myself) I began to see the outlines
of that scheme on which we afterwards acted.

"The great affair," I asked, "is to bring home to him the kidnapping?"

"Surely," said Mr. Rankeillor, "and, if possible, out of court. For mark
you here, Mr. David: we could no doubt find some men of the _Covenant_
who would swear to your reclusion; but once they were in the box, we
could no longer check their testimony, and some word of your friend Mr.
Thomson must certainly crop out--which (from what you have let fall) I
cannot think to be desirable."

"Well, sir," said I, "here is my way of it." And I opened my plot to
him.

"But this would seem to involve my meeting the man Thomson?" says he,
when I had done.

"I think so, indeed, sir," said I.

"Dear doctor!" cries he, rubbing his brow. "Dear doctor! No, Mr. David,
I am afraid your scheme is inadmissible. I say nothing against your
friend Mr. Thomson: I know nothing against him; and if I did--mark this,
Mr. David!--it would be my duty to lay hands on him. Now I put it to
you: is it wise to meet? He may have matters to his charge. He may not
have told you all. His name may not be even Thomson!" cries the lawyer,
twinkling; "for some of these fellows will pick up names by the roadside
as another would gather haws."

"You mu