"I can!" he cried. "I mean to get out of it! I'm not the man for the billet. I wasn't dragged up to it. And I don't want it! I shall only make a darned ass of myself and everybody else mixed up with me. I may be the man by birth, but I'm not the man by anything else; and look here, I want to back out of it while there's time; and you're the very man to help me. I wasn't dragged up to it--but you were. I'm not the man for the billet--but you are. The very man! You go to parties in the middle of the night, and you think nothing of 'em. They'd be the death of Happy Jack! The whole thing turns me sick with funk--the life, the money, the responsibility. I never got a sight of it till to-day; and now I don't want it at any price. You'd have got it if it hadn't been for me; so take it now--for God's sake, take it now! If it's mine, it's mine to give. I give it to you! Claude, old toucher, be the Dook yourself. Let me and the cats clear back to the bush!" The poet had listened with amazement, with amusement, with compassion and concern. He now shook his head. "You ask an impossibility. Without going into the thing, take my word for it that what you propose is utterly and hopelessly out of the question." "Couldn't I disappear?" said Jack eagerly. "Couldn't I do a bolt in the night? It's a big chance for you; surely you won't lose it by refusing to help me clear out?" Claude again shook his head. "In a week's time you will be laughing at what you are saying now. You are one of the richest men in England; everything that money can buy you can have. You own some of the loveliest seats in the whole country; wait till I have shown you Maske Towers! You won't want to clear out then. You won't ask me to be the Duke again!" He had purposely dwelt upon those material allurements which the bushman's mind would most readily grasp. And it was obvious that his arguments had hit the target, although not, perhaps, the bull's-eye. "Anyhow," said Jack doggedly, "it's an offer! And I repeat it. What's more, I mean it too!" "Then I decline it," returned Claude, to humour him; "and there's an end of the matter. Look here, though. One thing I promise. If you like, I'll see you through!" "You will?" "I will with all my heart." "And you're quite sure you won't take on the whole show yourself?" "Quite sure," said Claude, smiling. "Still, you'll tell me what to do? You'll tell me what not to do? You'll show me the ropes? You'll have hold of my sleeve?" "I'll do all that; at least, I'll do all I can. It may not be much. Still I'll do it." Jack held out a hot, damp hand; yet, just then, he seemed to be perspiring most freely under the eyes. "You're a good sort, Claudy!" said he hoarsely. "Good-night, old fellow," said Claude Lafont. CHAPTER IV NOT IN THE PROGRAMME