‘As well as possible, sir, thank you,’ said Wilson, pressing the hand which Sebastian had held out to him. ‘Do I see a friend of yours, sir?’ he added, looking at Hugo, who was watching the man with the preternatural solemnity which was one of his ways of showing that he was amused. ‘Yes; a very great friend--Mr. Von Birkenau,’ was all Sebastian said, and added, ‘I want to go through the works. I asked that young fellow who was here, who----’ ‘I hope he wasn’t rude, sir. I trust he didn’t make him self unpleasant,’ said Wilson, fervently. ‘Why, is he insubordinate usually, or rude to his superiors?’ asked Sebastian, with a sudden keenness of look, in strong contrast with his soft voice, and gentle manner. ‘Insubordinate! no, sir. A better workman or an honester young fellow never lived; only he’s got the idea that he hasn’t got no superiors--and it will bring him into trouble. I often tell him so.’ ‘But he is clever and honest, you say?’ said Sebastian, pausing to ask the question. ‘Yes, sir,’ said Wilson, who was fond of Myles, and had been fond of him for years. ‘He’s got the brains of half a dozen of the usual run, and you might trust him with untold gold; ay, and more dangerous things than that. But he is apt to give a little too much of his sauce.’ ‘Ah! Well, we will go on now, if you please; and when Mr. Sutcliffe comes in, I’ll get him to go on and lunch with me. I should like to say a few words to the--“hands,” is it you call them?--if there is any place where they could come and listen to me.’ ‘Surely, sir. The big yard will hold them all, and more than them.’ ‘Then be good enough to lead the way,’ said Sebastian, looking at his watch suggestively. Wilson was a proud and a happy man that morning, as he led the newly arrived lord of that place through the maze of great rooms and machinery, and pointed out all the improvements, the wonderful contrivances for making wood and steel and iron do the work of hands and feet; all the ‘perfection of mechanism, human and metallic,’ of which the factory and its contents formed an example. Sebastian followed him: his eyes had lost their sleepy look; he asked many questions, acute enough, for all the indifferent tone of them. He seemed to have much of the gift which is said to be royal--the eye which took in with incredible rapidity both details and generalities. Very little that was to be seen escaped him, including the curious glances and the loud comments and surmises relative to himself. It took an hour to go even quickly through the different rooms, and then Wilson, saying, ‘This is the last, sir, the warehouse,’ took them into a large, well-lighted room, in which were some half-dozen men at work, Myles Heywood in the centre. Sebastian stooped to Hugo, whispering, ‘I want to speak to that young fellow alone a few minutes.’