n,' he added, 'who can't afford to treat
themselves to violent emotions, and Mr. James Knock Jervoyce is one of
them. I hope your father may be able to clear himself of all complicity;
but _that_ man's a rascal whatever happens.'

'Good-bye, sir,' said Polson.

'Good-bye,' the General answered. He held out his hand, but Polson did
not see that friendly gesture, and he walked from the room quite broken,
his chin fallen upon his breast, and his broad shoulders rounded with
despondency. He went straight to his own room, and there also, after the
generous fashion of the countryside, a cheerful fire was burning. It
had fallen to a settled ruby glow, and though it filled the room with
warmth, it afforded but little light. Polson sat down in the shadow, and
stared at the heart of the fire. Outside, the wind howled and wailed, as
if in alternate wild triumph and wild mourning; and the rain beat
upon the window panes in driving sheets. But he heard no sound and was
unconscious of his immediate surroundings. Only two hours ago he had
been sitting in sweet nearness to the girl he loved; and he had been
transcendently and tumultuously happy. How happy he had not known until
the blow came which had dashed the structure of his life to pieces. He
had always longed for a career in the army, and the rumours of war which
had flown so thickly for the past year and a half had served naturally
to set a keener edge to his desire. A commission had not seemed a
very likely thing to hope for at one time, for in the years before the
Crimean War the sons of the British bourgeoisie were not very welcome
in the British army. But as his father had climbed hand-over-hand to
wealth, and as one local honour after another had fallen upon him, the
prospect grew clearer. Now, John Jervase for three years had held the
Commission of the Peace, and had taken a part in politics which had made
him something of a figure in the district. He was above all the poor
man's friend, and had become a great authority on working-man economics.
He had been foremost in the local movement for the establishment of the
Penny Bank, and had printed a pamphlet which somebody else had written
to his order, which had brought him into a favourable prominence. The
commission for which Polson yearned grew nearer and nearer in
prospect, and at last he had almost placed his hand upon it. Now it was
gone--gone, in all probability, beyond retrieval, and that alone would
have been enough