after having imposed his will upon others for nearly seventy years, it
was extremely unlikely that his dying command should be disobeyed by
his son. And it was in the midst of these death-bed reflections that he
heard hurried footsteps and knew that his boy had come at last.

When the latter entered the room his face wore an agonised expression,
for he feared that he had arrived too late. It was a relief, therefore,
to see his father, who had lain still, husbanding his little remaining
strength, open his eyes and make a sign, which included the padre as
well as the attendants, that he wished to be left alone with his son.

"Art thou here at last, my son?" said the old man the moment they were
alone.

"Ay, father, I came as soon as I received your message."

"Come nearer, then, I have much to say to you, and I have not long to
live. Have I been a good father to you, my lad?"

The young man knelt beside the couch and kissed his father's hand, while
he murmured an assent.

At the touch of his son's lips a chill struck the old man's heart. It
tortured him to think how little the boy guessed of the recent history
of the man he was bending over with loving concern; how little he
divined of the revelation that must presently be made to him. For a
moment the dying man felt that, after all, perhaps it were better to
renounce his vengeance, for it had been suddenly borne in upon him that
the boy might suffer acutely in the life that he intended him to live;
but in another moment he had taken himself to task for a weakness that