fault; whereas he had spoken out the purport of his great
resolution with a clear, strong voice, as though the saying of the
words pleased him well.

"I could not hear of such a thing as that," said his grandson, after
a short pause.

"But you have heard it, Perry, and you may be quite sure that I
should not have named it had I not fully resolved upon it. I have
been thinking of it for days, and have quite made up my mind. You
won't turn me out of the house, I know."

"All the same, I will not hear of it," said the young man, stoutly.

"Peregrine!"

"I know very well what it all means, sir, and I am not at all
astonished. You have wished to do something out of sheer goodness of
heart, and you have been balked."

"We will not talk about that, Peregrine."

"But I must say a few words about it. All that has made you unhappy,
and--and--and--" He wanted to explain that his grandfather was
ashamed of his baffled attempt, and for that reason was cowed and
down at heart at the present moment; but that in the three or four
months when this trial would be over and the wonder passed away, all
that would be forgotten, and he would be again as well as ever. But
Peregrine, though he understood all this, was hardly able to express
himself.

"My boy," said the old man, "I know very well what you mean. What
you say is partly true, and partly not quite true. Some day, perhaps,
when we are sitting here together over the fire, I shall be better
able to talk over all this; but not now, Perry. God has been very
good to me, and given me so much that I will not repine at this
sorrow. I have lived my life, and am content."

"Oh yes, of course all that's true enough. And if God should choose
that you should--die, you know, or I either, some people would be
sorry, but we shouldn't complain ourselves. But what I say is this:
you should never give up as long as you live. There's a sort of
feeling about it which I can't explain. One should always say to
oneself, No surrender." And Peregrine, as he spoke, stood up from his
chair, thrust his hands into his trouser-pockets, and shook his head.

Sir Peregrine smiled as he answered him. "But Perry, my boy, we can't
always say that. When the heart and the spirit and the body have all
surrendered, why should the voice tell a foolish falsehood?"

"But it shouldn't be a falsehood," said Peregrine. "Nobody should
ever knock under of his own accord."

"You are quite right there, my boy; you are