aszemble
zemselves? . . ."

Mr. Colt slewed his body about in the saddle.

"Eh? . . . Oh, that's Brother Copas, one of our Beauchamp Brethren.
Mediaeval he looks, doesn't he? I assure you, sir, we keep the
genuine article in Merchester."

"You haf old men dressed like _zat_? . . . My dear Julius, I see zis
Bageant retty-made!"

"It was at St. Hospital--the almshouse for these old fellows--that
the notion first came into my head."

"Sblendid! . . . We will haf a Brocession of them; or, it may be, a
whole Ebisode. . . . Will you bid him come closer, Mr. Major, zat I
may study ze costume in its detail?"

"Certainly." Mr. Colt beckoned to Brother Copas, who came forward
still holding Corona by the hand. "Brother Copas, Mr. Isidore
Bamberger here--brother of Our Member--desires to make your
acquaintance."

"I am honoured," said Brother Copas politely.

"Ach, so!" burst in Mr. Isidore. "I was telling the major how moch I
admire zat old costume of yours."

"It is not for sale, however." Brother Copas faced the two Hebrews
with his ironical smile. "I am sorry to disappoint you, sirs, but I
have no old clothes to dispose of, at present."

"No offence, no offence, I hope?" put in Mr. Julius. "My brother,
sir, is an artist--"

"Be easy, sir: I am sure that he intended none. For the rest,"
pursued Brother Copas with a glance at Mr. Colt and a twinkle,
"if we had time, all four of us here, to tell how by choice or
necessity we come to be dressed as we are, I dare say our stories
might prove amusing as the Calenders' in _The Arabian Nights_."

"You remind me," said Mr. Isidore, "zat I at any rate must not keep
zese good Territorials standing idle. Another time--at your
service--"

He waved a hand and hurried off to give an instruction to the
sergeant-major. His brother followed and overtook him.

"Damn it all, Isidore! You might remember that Merchester is my
constituency, and my majority less than half a hundred."

"_Hein_? For what else am I here but to helb you to increase it?"

"Then why the devil start by offending that old chap as you did?"

"Eh? I offended him somehow. Zat is certain: zough why on earth he
should object to having his dress admired--" Mr. Isidore checked his
speech upon a sudden surmise. "My goot Julius, you are not telling
me he has a Vote!"

"You silly fool, of course he has!"

"Gott in himmel! I am sorry, Julius. . . . I--I sobbosed, in England,
that paupers--"

"St