The Amateur Gentleman

"Or--become a mutineer!" said Barnabas, as the door opened to admit

Peterby, who (to the horror of the Gentleman-in-Powder, and despite

his mutely protesting legs), actually brought in the ale himself; yet,

as he set it before the Bo'sun, his sharp eyes were quick to notice

his young master's changed air, and brightened as if in sympathy.

"'Bully-Sawyer,' Seventy-four!" added the Bo'sun, rising and

extending his huge hand.

"We are all going to Hawkhurst, at once, John," continued Barnabas,

"so pack up whatever you think necessary--a couple of valises will

do, and tell Martin I'll have the phaeton,--it's roomier; and I'll

drive the bays. And hurry things, will you, John?"

So John Peterby bowed, solemn and sedate as ever, and went upon his

errand. But it is to be remarked that as he hastened downstairs, his

lips had taken on their humorous curve, and the twinkle was back in

his eyes; also he nodded his head, as who would say: "I thought so! The Lady Cleone Meredith, eh? Well,--the sooner the

better!"

Thus the Bo'sun had barely finished his ale, when the

Gentleman-in-Powder appeared to say the phaeton was at the door.

And a fine, dashing turn-out it was, too, with its yellow wheels,

its gleaming harness, and the handsome thorough-breds pawing

impatient hoofs.

Then, the Bo'sun having duly ensconced himself, with Peterby in the

rumble as calm and expressionless as the three leather valises under

the seat, Barnabas sprang in, caught up the reins, nodded to Martin

the gray-haired head groom, and giving the bays their heads, they

were off and away for Hawkhurst and the Lady Cleone Meredith,

whirling round corners and threading their way through traffic at a

speed that caused the Bo'sun to clutch the seat with one hand, and

the glazed hat with the other, and to remark in his diffident way

that: "These here wheeled craft might suit some, but for comfort and

safety give me an eight-oared galley!"