was an agreeable and penetrative companion; to Mrs. Upround,
a gallant guest, with a story for every slice of bread and butter; to
Janetta, a deity combining the perfections of Jupiter, Phoebus, Mars,
and Neptune (because of his yacht), without any of their drawbacks;
and to Flamborough, more largely speaking, a downright good sort of
gentleman, combining a smoke with a chaw--so they understood cigars--and
not above standing still sometimes for a man to say some sense to him.

But before Mr. Mordacks left his client under Dr. Upround's care, he had
done his best to provide that mischief should not come of gossip; and
the only way to prevent that issue is to preclude the gossip. Sir Duncan
Yordas, having lived so long in a large commanding way, among people
who might say what they pleased of him, desired no concealment here,
and accepted it unwillingly. But his agent was better skilled in English
life, and rightly foresaw a mighty buzz of nuisance--without any honey
to be brought home--from the knowledge of the public that the Indian
hero had begotten the better-known apostle of free trade. Yet it
might have been hard to persuade Sir Duncan to keep that great fact to
himself, if his son had been only a smuggler, or only a fugitive from a
false charge of murder. But that which struck him in the face, as soon
as he was able to consider things, was the fact that his son had fled
and vanished, leaving his underlings to meet their fate. "The smuggling
is a trifle," exclaimed the sick man; "our family never was law-abiding,
and used to be large cattle-lifters; even the slaying of a man in hot
combat is no more than I myself have done, and never felt the worse for
it. But to run away, and leave men to be hanged, after bringing them
into the scrape himself, is not the right sort of dishonor for a Yordas.
If the boy surrenders, I shall be proud to own him. But until he does
that, I agree with you, Mordacks, that he does not deserve to know who
he is."

This view of the case was harsh, perhaps, and showed some ignorance of
free-trade questions, and of English justice. If Robin Lyth had been
driven, by the heroic view of circumstances, to rush into embrace
constabular, would that have restored the other six men to family
sinuosities? Not a chance of it. Rather would it treble the pangs of
jail--where they enjoyed themselves--to feel that anxiety about their
pledges to fortune from which the free Robin relieved them. Money was
lod