And off he trotted to the drawing-room. He came back in a couple of minutes. "Of course," said he. "Devilish stupid of me to forget it. 'Why,' said the young lady, 'I think the author has been trying to keep the fourth commandment, for there's nothing in the book that has any likeness to anything in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or the heavens under the earth.'" "The waters under the earth." "I mean the waters, of course. Gad! her ladyship was immensely tickled." "Which of the two young ladies was it, Sir Percy? The younger, I suppose?" said Mr. Roscorla. "No, no, the elder sister of course," said Trelyon. "Yes, the elder one it was--the quiet one; and an uncommon nice girl she is. Well, there's Captain Walters, the old sea-dog! still to the fore; and his uniform too. Don't you remember the uniform with the red cuffs that hasn't been seen in the navy for a couple of centuries, I should think? His son's got into Parliament now--gone over to the Rads and the workingmen, and those fellows that are scheming to get the land divided among themselves--all in the name of philosophy: and it's a devilish fine sort of philosophy; that is, when you haven't a rap in your pocket, and when you prove that everybody who has must give it up. He came to my house the other day, and he was jawing away about primogeniture, and entail, and direct taxation, and equal electoral districts, and I don't know what besides. 'Walters,' said I--'Walters, you've got nothing to share, and so you don't mind a general division. When you have, you'll want to stick to what's in your own pocket.' Had him there, eh?" The old general beamed and laughed over his smartness: he was conscious of having said something that, in shape at least, was like an epigram. "I must rub up my acquaintance in that quarter," said Roscorla, "before I leave again. Fortunately, I have always kept up my club subscription; and you'll come and dine with me, Sir Percy, won't you, when I get to town?" "Are you going to town?" said Trelyon quickly. "Oh yes, of course." "When?" The question was abrupt, and it made Roscorla look at the young man as he answered. Trelyon seemed to him to be very much harassed about something or other. "Well, I suppose in a week or so: I am only home for a holiday, you know." "Oh, you'll be here for a week?" said the younger man submissively. "When do you think of returning to Jamaica?" "Probably at the beginning of next month. Fancy leaving England in November--just at the most hideous time of the year--and in a week or two getting out into summer again, with the most beautiful climate and foliage and what not all around you! I can tell you a man makes a great mistake who settles down to a sort of vegetable life anywhere: you don't catch me at that again."