m, as a man
who has dug up a sudden treasure and for the moment can only gaze at
it and hug himself. Nat and I brought up the rear, he striding at my
stirrup and pouring forth the tale of his adventures since we parted.
A dozen times he rehearsed the scene of the parental quarrel, and
interrupted each rehearsal with a dozen anxious questions. "Ought he
to have given this answer?--to have uttered that defiance? Did I
think he had shown self-control; Had he treated the old gentleman
with becoming respect? Would I put myself in his place? Suppose it
had been my own father, now--"

"But yours, lad, is a father in a thousand," he broke off bitterly.
"I had never a notion that father and son could be friends, as are
you and he. He is splendid--splendid!"

I glanced at him quickly and turned my face aside, suspecting that he
took my father for a madman, and was kindly concealing the discovery.
Nevertheless I hardened my voice to answer--

"You will say so when you know him better. And my Uncle Gervase runs
him a good second."

"Faith, then, I wish you'd persuade your uncle to adopt me. I'm not
envious, Prosper, in a general way, but your luck gives me a duced
orphanly feeling. Have I been over-hasty? That is the question;
whether 'twas nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of
accusing conscience or to up and have it out with the old man."

"Pardon me, gentlemen"--Mr. Fett wheeled about suddenly on the road
ahead of us--"but it was by accident that I overheard you, and by a
singular coincidence at that moment I happened to be discussing the
same subject with Mr. Badcock here."

"What subject?"

"Missiles, sir. It appears that, when his blood is up, Mr. Badcock
finds himself absolutely careless of missiles. He declares that,
with a sense of smell as acute as most men's, he was unaware to-day
of having been struck with a rotten egg until I, at ten paces'
distance, drew his attention to it. Now, that is a degree of
courage--insensibility--call it what you will--to which I make no
pretence. The cut and thrust, gentlemen, the couched lance, even,
within limits, the battering ram, would have, I feel confident,
comparatively few terrors for me. But missiles I abominate.
Drawing, as I am bound to do, my anticipations of the tented field
from experience gathered--I say it literally, gathered--before the
footlights, I confess to some sympathy with the gentleman who assured
Harry Percy that but for th