"My present comes opportunely," he remarked, "since you were on the subject of the pistol. You may remember that I offered a gold watch and chain to whosoever should track out the shooter of Talbot. But what do you think I did, boys?—I'm nothing better than a plain old goose, you know.—I went and bought the watch and chain, never supposing but somebody would turn up to win it the next day. He didn't turn up, and I've had it by me ever since, lying useless. It crossed my mind once to give it to my friend Onions here,"—with a nod to Mr. Leek—"for his services in a certain duel you've heard of; but I hadn't got it with me in Boulogne; and, besides, he has a handsome gold watch of his own. So then I determined to keep it for the winner of the Orville; and I've brought it. It seems consistent with poetical justice that it should be Talbot's at last, since he was the one damaged by the shots. Long life to you, my brave earl, to wear it out!" "Not to me, sir," said the earl, flushing with delight, but just and generous in the midst of it. "It is true I have got the Orville, but Paradyne merited it. He gave up the contest voluntarily—and he has not a watch any more than I have." "I'll take care of Paradyne," said Sir Simon, with a significant nod. "He'll miss neither the watch nor the Orville, and he goes to Cambridge when you go to Oxford. I'm a plain man and like Cambridge best. Wear your watch with content, my boy: your name is on it, and you have deserved it." A deafening cheer followed Sir Simon as he went out. Mr. Henry stayed behind. Sitting down on a bench, he gathered them round him, his low clear voice echoing on their ears and hearts with a strangely peaceful echo, as he talked of the journey he was so close upon; of the one they must all take in their turn, and of many little things that would speed their packing up for it. In the middle of this, to the general consternation, Dick Loftus broke into sobs, and dropped his head upon Mr. Henry's arms. Dick came to himself in a few moments. Feeling intensely ashamed, he made a feint of carrying of things with a careless hand. "Don't you go and die yet. We shouldn't like it, you know. Wait till we are off. And couldn't you leave us something as a legacy?" "Oh yes! leave us a legacy," cried the rest, ready for any suggestion of that sort. "A legacy?" repeated Mr. Henry, smiling. "Very well. What kind of legacy?" They ran over different articles, each in his mind, from a gold watch and chain like Lord Shrewsbury's, to a lock of Mr. Henry's hair. But nobody mentioned one thing in particular. "Anything you like," said the boys. He smiled still, and rose; shaking hands with each of them, saying a tender word of encouragement to all; and went out, leaning on Gall's arm, Bertie walking on the other side. Ah, what a contrast it was! They, so full of life, of its interests and passions; he, so near its close.