Scour and scan me to thy content, my good
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.