above the heads of the
intriguing, time-serving, clamorous multitude.

At last the Governor spoke; and, though his words were seemingly
irrelevant, they were to the point. His voice had a note of
martyrdom running through its senile quaver.

"My rheumatism has been growing steadily worse these past months,
William."

"I am sorry, father," said Billy, gently.

"And I am nearly seventy-eight. I am getting to be an old man. I can
recall the names of but two or three who were in public life during
My Administration. What did you say is the nature of this position
that is offered you, William?"

"A Federal Judgeship, father. I believe it is considered to be a
somewhat flattering tender. It is outside of politics and
wire-pulling, you know."

"No doubt, no doubt. Few of the Pembertons have engaged in
professional life for nearly a century. None of them have ever held
Federal positions. They have been land-holders, slave-owners, and
planters on a large scale. One of two of the Derwents--your mother's
family--were in the law. Have you decided to accept this
appointment, William?"

"I am thinking it over," said Billy, slowly, regarding the ash of
his cigar.

"You have been a good son to me," continued the Governor, stirring
his pipe with the handle of a penholder.

"I've been your son all my life," said Billy, darkly.

"I am often gratified," piped the Governor, betraying a touch of
complacency, "by being congratulated upon having a son with such
sound and sterling qualities. Especially in this, our native town,
is your name linked with mine in the talk of our citizens."

"I never knew anyone to forget the vindculum," murmured Billy,
unintelligibly.

"Whatever prestige," pursued the parent, "I may be possessed of,
by virtue of my name and services to the state, has been yours to
draw upon freely. I have not hesitated to exert it in your behalf
whenever opportunity offered. And you have deserved it, William.
You've been the best of sons. And now this appointment comes to take
you away from me. I have but a few years left to live. I am almost
dependent upon others now, even in walking and dressing. What would
I do without you, my son?"

The Governor's pipe dropped to the floor. A tear trickled from his
eye. His voice had risen, and crumbled to a weakling falsetto, and
ceased. He was an old, old man about to be bereft of a son that
cherished him.

Billy rose, and laid his hand upon the Governor's shoulder.