him for ever out of the ranks of gentlemen:
Society, meantime, howling exclusion to him in the background: 'Out of
our halls, degraded youth: The smiles of turbaned matrons: the sighs
of delicate maids; genial wit, educated talk, refined scandal, vice
in harness, dinners sentineled by stately plush: these, the flavour
of life, are not for you, though you stole a taste of them, wretched
impostor! Pay for it with years of remorse!'

The coach went rushing against the glorious high wind. It stirred his
blood, freshened his cheeks, gave a bright tone of zest to his eyes, as
he cast them on the young green country. Not banished from the breath of
heaven, or from self-respect, or from the appetite for the rewards that
are to follow duties done! Not banished from the help that is always
reached to us when we have fairly taken the right road: and that for him
is the road to Lymport. Let the kingdom of Gilt Gingerbread howl as it
will! We are no longer children, but men: men who have bitten hard
at experience, and know the value of a tooth: who have had our hearts
bruised, and cover them with armour: who live not to feed, but look to
food that we may live! What matters it that yonder high-spiced kingdom
should excommunicate such as we are? We have rubbed off the gilt, and
have assumed the command of our stomachs. We are men from this day!

Now, you would have thought Evan's companions, right and left of him,
were the wretches under sentence, to judge from appearances. In contrast
with his look of insolent pleasure, Andrew, the moment an eye was on
him, exhibited the cleverest impersonation of the dumps ever seen:
while Mr. Raikes was from head to foot nothing better than a moan made
visible. Nevertheless, they both agreed to rally Evan, and bid him be of
good cheer.

'Don't be down, Van; don't be down, my boy,' said Andrew, rubbing his
hands gloomily.

'I? do I look it?' Evan answered, laughing.

'Capital acting!' exclaimed Raikes. 'Try and keep it up.'

'Well, I hope you're acting too,' said Evan.

Raikes let his chest fall like a collapsing bellows.

At the end of five minutes, he remarked: 'I've been sitting on it the
whole morning! There's violent inflammation, I'm persuaded. Another
hour, and I jump slap from the summit of the coach!'

Evan turned to Andrew.

'Do you think he'll be let off?'

'Mr. Raikes? Can't say. You see, Van, it depends upon how Old Tom has
taken his bad luck. Ahem! Perhaps he'll be all the