“Twenty dead rats, probably, since I imagine that this hole has not been cleaned since the time of George II. We are martyrs in this world, Sir. I come here to attend to the affairs of some whippersnapper whom I never saw and never want to see, just because Helen Ogilvy, who was my first cousin, chooses to make me a trustee of her confounded will, in which she leaves money to the confounded whippersnapper, God knows why. This whippersnapper has a father, a parson, who can write the most offensive letters imaginable. I received one of them this morning, accusing the whippersnapper of all sorts of vague things, and me and my fellow trustee, who is at present enjoying himself travelling, of abetting him. I repeat, damn Ranson, Richards and Son; damn the parson, damn Helen—no, I won’t say that, for she is dead—and especially damn the whippersnapper. Don’t you agree with me?” “Not quite, Sir,” said Godfrey. “I don’t mind about Ranson, Richards and Son, or anybody else, but I don’t quite see why you should damn me, who, I am sure, never wished to give you any trouble.” “You! And who the Hades may you be?” “I am Godfrey Knight, and I suppose that you are my trustee, or one of them.” “Godfrey Knight, the young man whose father gives us so much trouble, all at our own expense, I may remark. Well, after hearing so much of you on paper, I’m deuced glad to meet you in the flesh. Come into the light, if you can call it light, and let me have a look at you.” Godfrey stepped beneath the dirty pane and was contemplated through an eyeglass by this breezy old gentleman, who exclaimed presently: “You’re all right, I think; a fine figure of a young man, not bad looking, either, but you want drilling. Why the devil don’t you go into the army?” “I don’t know,” answered Godfrey, “never thought of it. Are you in the army, Sir?” “No, not now, though I was. Commanded my regiment for five years, and then kicked out with the courtesy title of Major-General. Cubitte is my name, spelt with two ‘t’s’ and an ‘e,’ please, and don’t you forget that, since that ‘e’ has been a point of honour with our family for a hundred years, the Lord knows why. Well, there we are. Do you smoke?” “Only a pipe,” said Godfrey. “That’s right; I hate those accursed cigarettes, still they are better than nothing. Now sit down and tell me all about yourself.” Godfrey obeyed, and somehow feeling at ease with this choleric old General, in the course of the next twenty minutes explained many things to him, including the cause of his appearance in that office. “So you don’t want to be a parson,” said the General, “and with your father’s example before your eyes, I am sure I don’t wonder. However, you are independent of him more or less, and had better cut out a line for yourself. We will back you. What do you say to the army?” “I think I should rather like that,” answered Godfrey. “Only, only, I want to get out of England as soon as possible.”