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hands; thy looks and dress betoken it. Whom dost thou take me to be?’ ‘Take
thee? Prithee, for whom else than whom thou art? I take thee to be Hugh
Hendon,’ said Miles, sharply.

The other continued, in the same soft tone: ‘And whom dost thou imagine
thyself to be?’ ‘Imagination hath naught to do with it! Dost thou pretend thou
knowest me not for thy brother Miles Hendon?’ An expression of pleased
surprise flitted across Hugh’s face, and he exclaimed: ‘What! thou art not jesting!
can the dead come to life? God be praised if it be so! Our poor lost boy restored
to our arms after all these cruel years! Ah, it seems too good to be true, it is too
good to be true-I charge thee, have pity, do not trifle with me! Quick-come to
the light-let me scan thee well!’ He seized Miles by the arm, dragged him to the
window, and began to devour him from head to foot with his eyes, turning him
this way and that, and stepping briskly around him and about him to prove him
from all points of view; whilst the returned prodigal, all aglow with gladness,
smiled, laughed, and kept nodding his head and saying: ‘Go on, brother, go on,
and fear not; thou’lt find nor limb nor feature that cannot bide the test. Scour
and scan me to thy content, my dear old Hugh-I am indeed thy old Miles, thy
same old Miles, thy lost brother, is’t not so? Ah, ‘tis a great day-I said ‘twas a
great day! Give me thy hand, give me thy cheek-lord, I am like to die of very
joy!’ He was about to throw himself upon his brother; but Hugh put up his hand
in dissent, then dropped his chin mournfully upon his breast, saying with
emotion: ‘Ah, God of his mercy give me strength to bear this grievous
disappointment!’ Miles, amazed, could not speak for a moment; then he found
his tongue, and cried out: ‘What disappointment? Am I not thy brother?’ Hugh
shook his head sadly, and said: ‘I pray heaven it may prove so, and that other
eyes may find the resemblances that are hid from mine. Alack, I fear me the
letter spoke but too truly.’ ‘What letter?’ ‘One that came from oversea, some six
or seven years ago. It said my brother died in battle.’ ‘It was a lie! Call thy
father-he will know me.’ ‘One may not call the dead.’

‘Dead?’ Miles’s voice was subdued, and his lips trembled. ‘My father dead!oh,
this is heavy news. Half my new joy is withered now. Prithee, let me see my
brother Arthur-he will know me; he will know me and console me.’ ‘He, also, is
dead.’ ‘God be merciful to me, a stricken man! Gone-both gone-the worthy
taken and the worthless spared in me! Ah! I crave your mercy!- do not say the
Lady Edith-’ ‘Is dead? No, she lives.’ ‘Then God be praised, my joy is whole
again! Speed thee, brother-let her come to me! An she say I am not myself-but
she will not; no, no, she will know me, I were a fool to doubt it. Bring her-bring
the old servants; they, too, will know me.’ ‘All are gone but five-Peter, Halsey,
David, Bernard, and Margaret.’ So saying, Hugh left the room. Miles stood
musing awhile, then began to walk the floor, muttering: ‘The five arch villains
have survived the two-and-twenty leal and honest-‘tis an odd thing.’ He
continued walking back and forth, muttering to himself; he had forgotten the
king entirely. By and by his majesty said gravely, and with a touch of genuine
compassion, though the words themselves were capable of being interpreted
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