

The other continued, in the same soft tone--

“And whom dost thou imagine thyself to be?”

“Imagination hath nought 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.