ho turned back
with him towards home. They sat down on a crag opposite the sea; there
was a light breeze, the fishing boats wore out, and the view was as
animated as the fresh air was cheering.

'There they go,' said Cadurcis, smiling, 'catching John Dory, as you
and I try to catch John Bull. Now if these people could understand
what two great men were watching them, how they would stare! But they
don't care a sprat for us, not they! They are not part of the world
the three or four thousand civilised savages for whom we sweat our
brains, and whose fetid breath perfumed with musk is fame. Pah!'

Herbert smiled. 'I have not cared much myself for this same world.'

'Why, no; you have done something, and shown your contempt for them.
No one can deny that. I will some day, if I have an opportunity. I owe
it them; I think I can show them a trick or two still.[A] I have got a
Damascus blade in store for their thick hides. I will turn their flank
yet.'

[Footnote A: I think I know a trick or two would turn Your flanks.
_Don Juan_.]

'And gain a victory where conquest brings no glory. You are worth
brighter laurels, Lord Cadurcis.'

'Now is not it the most wonderful thing in the world that you and I
have met?' said Cadurcis. 'Now I look upon ourselves as something
like, eh! Fellows with some pith in them. By Jove, if we only joined
together, how we could lay it on! Crack, crack, crack; I think I see
them wincing under the thong, the pompous poltroons! If you only knew
how they behaved to me! By Jove, sir, they hooted me going to the
House of Lords, and nearly pulled me off my horse. The ruffians would
have massacred me if they could; and then they all ran away from a
drummer-boy and a couple of grenadiers, who were going the rounds to
change guard. Was not that good? Fine, eh? A brutish mob in a fit of
morality about to immolate a gentleman, and then scampering off from a
sentry. I call that human nature!'

'As long as they leave us alone, and do not burn us alive, I am
content,' said Herbert. 'I am callous to what they say.'

'So am I,' said Cadurcis. 'I made out a list the other day of all
the persons and things I have been compared to. It begins well, with
Alcibiades, but it ends with the Swiss giantess or the Polish dwarf, I
forget which. Here is your book. You see it has been well thumbed. In
fact, to tell the truth, it was my cribbing book, and I always kept
it by me when I was writing at Athens, like a gradus, a