"John Peterby," said he, "learn that the first thing I desire in my

valet is obedience. Pray stand out of my way!" So, perforce Peterby

stood aside, yet Barnabas had scarce taken a dozen strides ere

Clemency stood before him.

"Go back," she whispered, "go back!"

"Impossible," said Barnabas, "I have a mission to fulfil."

"Go back!" she repeated in the same tense whisper, "you must--oh,

you must! I've heard he has killed a man before now--"

"And yet I must see and speak with his companion."

"No, no--ah! I pray you--"

"Nay," said Barnabas, "if you will, and if need be, pray for me." So

saying he put her gently aside, and entering the inn, came to the

door of that room wherein he had written the letter to his father.

"I tell you I'll kill him, Dalton," said a soft, deliberate voice.

"Undoubtedly; the light's excellent; but, my dear fellow, why--?"

"I object to him strongly, for one thing, and--"

The voice was hushed suddenly, as Barnabas set wide the door and

stepped into the room, with Peterby at his heels.

Mr. Chichester was seated at the table with a glass beside him, but

Barnabas looked past him to his companion who sprawled on the other

side of the hearth--a sleepy, sighing gentleman, very high as to

collar, very tight as to waist, and most ornate as to waistcoat;

young he was certainly, yet with his first glance, Barnabas knew

instinctively that this could not be the youth he sought.

Nevertheless he took off his hat and saluted him with a bow that for

stateliness left the "stiff-legged gentleman" nowhere.

"Sir," said he, "pray what might your name be?"

Instead of replying, the sleepy gentleman opened his eyes rather

wider than was usual and stared at Barnabas with a growing surprise,

stared at him from head to foot and up again, then, without changing

his lounging attitude, spoke: "Oh, Gad, Chichester!--is this the--man?"

"Yes."

"But--my dear Chit! Surely you don't propose to--this fellow! Who is

he? What is he? Look at his boots--oh, Gad!"

Hereupon Barnabas resumed his hat, and advancing leaned his clenched

fists on the table, and from that eminence smiled down at the speaker,

that is to say his lips curled and his teeth gleamed in the

candle-light.

"Sir," said he gently, "you will perhaps have the extreme

condescension to note that my boots are strong boots, and very

serviceable either for walking, or for kicking an insolent puppy."

"If I had a whip, now," sighed the gentleman, "if I only had a whip,

I'd whip you out of the room. Chichester,--pray look at that coat, oh,

Gad!"

But Mr. Chichester had risen, and now crossing to the door, he

locked it, and dropped the key into his pocket.




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