Roux resumed his chair, and with his hand fumbling over his mouth as was usual with him, rolled his eyes timidly about the room. “Roux, I’ve got news to tell you,” faltered Harrington, smiling. “Good news. What would be the best news you could hear?” Roux smiled faintly, and still fumbling around his mouth with his hand, while his eyes continued to wander, he appeared to hesitate. “Well, Mr. Harrington,” he said, after a pause, “I ruther feel oncertain as to what to say. It would be the most uncommonest best news, if I heerd that my brother Ant’ny was to git away. But I’m afeard that’s not likely, Mr. Harrington.” Roux’s eyes kept wandering, and Harrington looking hard at the opposite wall, smiled furtively. The next instant both he and Roux were startled by a sudden screech of eldritch mirth, and by the apparition of Tugmutton pitching forward on his hands, and slapping over in a somerset as quick as light, coming up clean on his feet with a sober-staring face, and a low “Hoo!” They both stared at him, Harrington with a stir in his blood, for he had not seen the squab, and he was completely startled by his appearance in this astonishing gymnastic. “Hi!” exclaimed Tugmutton, standing legs dispread, just as he had landed from his flip-flap, and pointing at Harrington with his thumb, while a jovial grin slowly spread over his fat visage. “Hi! That nigger has arroven! My gosh! Mr. Harrington, I smell a rat as if I was nothin’ but nose! Hooraw! Three cheers! Likewise a horse larf! O sing you niggers, sing!” and chanting this line in a shrill voice, Tugmutton stopped to fly into a furious double-shuffle and breakdown, with his shock head bobbing like mad. “Hallo, you, Tug, now,” quavered Roux, looking frightened. “Just you ricollect where you are now, Tug, in this nice house. What’s the matter with you, and what you goin’ off in that way for now? I don’t see what you mean by sech actions, noways.” Tugmutton stopped in his dance at the sound of Roux’s voice, and with his short arms akimbo on his ribs, and his short, broad legs dispread, glared up at him with a look of supreme indignation. “My gosh, father!” he exclaimed, “if you ain’t stupid now! Why jus’ you look at them liniments of Mr. Harrington!” and he pointed with his thumb at Harrington’s face, which was wrinkled into an amused smile. “Now, what’s there father, jus’ as plain as print?” Tugmutton ended with a snort, and ineffably disgusted at Roux’s unintelligence, dumped down on his stool, and looked at Harrington. Roux meanwhile gazed at the young man with a timid and imploring expression. “Charles is right, Mr. Roux,” said Harrington, cheerfully, while Tugmutton relapsed into a jovial grin of satisfaction, showing all his ivories, and wagging his bushy head delightedly. “But now, Mr. Roux,” continued Harrington, “I want you to keep cool. The good news is that your brother is free. Don’t let it overcome you. Be cool.”