After this very little passed. They sat on each side of the little deal table with the coarse candle sputtering between them, and listened to the hoarse sounds of the voices, the tumultuous applause on the other side of the wall. This was still going on, though in subdued tones, when the door suddenly opened. It was not easy at first to see who had come in, till Spears’s face appeared over the flickering light. It was angry and dark, and overclouded with something like shame. “I am glad you are here still, you two,” he said in subdued tones. Neither of the young men spoke. At last Fairfax, who was not the one on whom his eyes were bent, said-- “We were waiting till the meeting was over. Till then, it appears, we can’t have a cab sent for. Markham has hurt his foot.” “Good Lord! How did he do that?” Spears came round and looked at it where it lay supported on the chair. He looked as if he would have liked to stroke and pet the injured limb like a child. “I hope it was none of those fellows with their pushing and stupid folly,” he said. “It was not done by any refinement of politeness, certainly.” These were the first words Paul had said, and they were uttered with the same half mocking smile. “They’re rough fellows, that’s the truth,” said Spears; “and they have an idiot for a guide,” he went on in a low voice. “Look here, Paul, you aggravated me with those grand looks of yours, and that sneer. You know as well as I do what puts me out. When it’s a fellow I care for, I can’t stand it. All the asses in Rotten Row might come and haw-haw at me, and I shouldn’t mind; but you! that are a kind of child of my soul, Paul!” “I hope your other children will get more mercy from you, then,” said Paul, without looking at him. “You have not had much for me, Spears.” “I, lad? What have I ever done but cherish you as if you were my own! I have been as proud of you--! All your fine ways that I’ve jibed about have been a pleasure to me all the time. It went to my heart to think that you, the finest aristocrat of all the lot, were following old Spears for love of a principle. I said to myself, abuse them as we like, there’s stuff in these old races--there’s something in that blue blood. I don’t deny it before you two, that may laugh at me as you please. I that have just been telling all those lads that it’s the scum that comes uppermost (and believe it too). I that have sworn an eternal war against the principle of unequal rank and accumulation of property--” Spears paused. There was nothing ludicrous to him in the idea of this eternal war, waged by a nameless stump orator against all the kingdoms of the world and the power of them. He was too much in earnest to be conscious of any absurdity. He was as serious in his crusade as if he had been a conqueror with life and death in his hands, and his voice trembled with the reality of this confession which he was going to make.