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"
And
who
do
ye
think
I
am
?
"
says
he
.
"
Give
me
Alexander
's
letter
.
"
"
You
know
my
father
's
name
?
"
"
It
would
be
strange
if
I
didnae
,
"
he
returned
,
"
for
he
was
my
born
brother
;
and
little
as
ye
seem
to
like
either
me
or
my
house
,
or
my
good
parritch
,
I
'm
your
born
uncle
,
Davie
,
my
man
,
and
you
my
born
nephew
.
So
give
us
the
letter
,
and
sit
down
and
fill
your
kyte
.
"
If
I
had
been
some
years
younger
,
what
with
shame
,
weariness
,
and
disappointment
,
I
believe
I
had
burst
into
tears
.
As
it
was
,
I
could
find
no
words
,
neither
black
nor
white
,
but
handed
him
the
letter
,
and
sat
down
to
the
porridge
with
as
little
appetite
for
meat
as
ever
a
young
man
had
.
Meanwhile
,
my
uncle
,
stooping
over
the
fire
,
turned
the
letter
over
and
over
in
his
hands
.
"
Do
ye
ken
what
's
in
it
?
"
he
asked
,
suddenly
.
"
You
see
for
yourself
,
sir
,
"
said
I
,
"
that
the
seal
has
not
been
broken
.
"
"
Ay
,
"
said
he
,
"
but
what
brought
you
here
?
"
"
To
give
the
letter
,
"
said
I.
"
No
,
"
says
he
,
cunningly
,
"
but
ye
'll
have
had
some
hopes
,
nae
doubt
?
"
