Leech had been looking at the Doctor with new interest. “So you’re Dr. Cary?” he said. “Well, I’m the one for you to see. I summoned you to appear before me to know why you turned the Rev. Mr. Sherwood out of his home.” His manner was growing more and more insolent, and the Doctor stiffened. The only notice he took was to look over Leech’s head. “Ah! I believe I will go and see Captain Middleton,” he said, with dignity. “Good-morning,” and he walked out, his head held somewhat higher than when he went in, leaving Leech fuming in impotent rage, and Still to give the Head of the Bureau behind his back a very different estimate of him from that which he had just declared so loudly in his presence. “He’s one of that same sort with your young men,” said the manager, “only more so. What did I tell you? See, he won’t _talk to you_! He wants to talk to Captain Middleton. You trust me, I’ll keep you informed. I know ’em all. Not that he ain’t better than most, because he’s naturally kind-hearted and would do well enough if let alone, but he can’t help it. It’s bred in the bone. But I’m too smart for ’em. I was too smart for ’em durin’ the war, and I am still.” He gave the Provost a confidential wink. “Well, he’ll find out who I am before he gets through,” said Leech. “I guess he’ll find I’m about as big a man as Captain Middleton.” He squared back his thin shoulders and puffed out his chest. “I’ll show him.” He turned to the door. “That’s it—that’s it,” smiled Still, delightedly. Meantime Dr. Cary had joined General Legaie, and with the single remark that it was “the commanding officer, not the commissary,” that they wanted to see, they rode up the hill. When the two gentlemen arrived at Mrs. Dockett’s they found that energetic lady, trowel in hand, among her flowers, and were received by her with so much distinction that it produced immediately a great impression on her two lodgers, who, unseen, were observing them from their window. “Gad! Larry, there’s Don Quixote, and he’s brought his cousin, Dr. Filgrave, along with him. He must be a lieutenant-general at least. See the way the old lady is smiling! I must learn his secret.” And the little Lieutenant sprang to the mirror and rattled on as Middleton got ready for the interview which he anticipated, and the two gentlemen came slowly up the walk, bareheaded, with Mrs. Dockett, talking energetically, between them. The next moment there was a tramp outside the door, and with that rap, which Thurston said was a model for the last trump, Mrs. Dockett herself flung open the door and announced, with a wave of her hand: “General Legaie and Major Cary.”