"Ah! yes, my lunch," said Aunt Margaret, with a sigh. "Go, and think over what I have said, my dear, and we will talk again another time." "All right, auntie," said the young man, rising slowly; "but it seems to me as if the best thing I could do would be to jump into the sea." "No, no, Henri," said Aunt Margaret, taking up a silver spoon and shaking it slowly at her nephew, "a Des Vignes was ready with his sword in defence of his honour, and to advance his master's cause; but he never dreamed of taking his own life. That, my dear, would be the act of one of the low-born _canaille_. Remember who you are, and wait. I am working for you, and you shall triumph yet. Consult your friend." "Sometimes I think it's all gammon," said Harry, as he went slowly down-stairs, and out into the garden, "and sometimes it seems as if it would be very jolly. I dare say the old woman is right, and--" "What are you talking about--muttering aside like the wicked man on the stage?" "Hullo, Vic! You there?" "Yes, clear boy. I'm here for want of somewhere better." "Consult your friend!" Aunt Margaret's last words. "Been having a cigar?" "I've been hanging about here this last hour. How is it she hasn't been for a walk?" "Louie? Don't know. Here, let's go down under the cliff, and have a talk over a pipe." "The latter, if you like; never mind the former. Yes, I will; for I want a few words of a sort." "What about?" said Harry, as they strolled away. "Everything. Look here, old fellow; we've been the best of chums ever since you shared my desk." "Yes, and you shared my allowance." "Well chums always do. Then I came down with you, and it was all as jolly as could be, and I was making way fast, in spite of that confounded red-headed porridge-eating fellow. Then came that upset, and I went away. Then you wrote to me in answer to my letter about having a good thing on, and said `Come down.'" "And you came," said Harry thoughtfully, "and the good thing turned out a bad thing, as every one does that I join in." "Well, that was an accident; speculators must have some crust as well as crumb." "But I get all crust." "No, I seem to be getting all crust now from your people. Your aunt's right enough, but your father casts his cold shoulder and stale bread at me whenever we meet; and as for a certain lady, she regularly cut me yesterday." "Well, I can't help that, Vic. You know what I said when you told me you were on that. I said that I couldn't do anything, and that I wouldn't do anything if I could; but that I wouldn't stand in your way if you liked to try." "Yes, I know what you said," grumbled Pradelle, as they strolled down to the shore, went round the rocks, and then strolled on over and amongst the shingle and sand, till--a suitable spot presenting itself, about half a mile from the town--they sat down on the soft sand, tilted their hats over their eyes, leaned their backs against a huge stone, and then lit up and began to smoke.