The Colonel misread his meaning, and went on: “Aspiring to nothing in life beyond a home and home-happiness, it is, of course, a heavy blow to me to sacrifice either my career or my comfort. I cannot possibly anticipate a return earlier than eight or ten years; and who is to count upon eight or ten years in that pestilent climate? Assuredly not a man already broken down by wounds and jungle fever!” The justice of the remark was, perhaps, sufficient for the Chief Baron. He paid no attention to its pathetic side, and _so_ did not reply. Sewell began to lose patience, but he controlled himself, and, after a few puffs of his cigar, went on: “If it were not for the children, I 'd take the thing easy enough. Half-pay is a beggarly thing, but I 'd put up with it. I 'm not a man of expensive tastes. If I can relish thoroughly such sumptuous fare as you gave me this morning, I can put up with very humble diet. I 'm a regular soldier in that.” “An excellent quality, sir,” said the old man, dryly. “Lucy, of course, would suffer. There are privations which fall very heavily on a woman, and a woman, too, who has always been accustomed to a good deal of luxury.” The Chief bowed an assent. “I suppose I might get a depot appointment for a year or two. I might also--if I sold out--manage a barrack-mastership, or become an inspector of yeomanry, or some such vulgar makeshift; but I own, my Lord, when a man has filled the places I have,--held staff appointments,--been a private secretary,--discharged high trusts, too, for in Mooraghabad I acted as Deputy-Resident for eight months,--it does seem a precious come-down to ask to be made a paymaster in a militia regiment, or a subaltern in the mounted police.” “Civil life is always open to a man of activity and energy,” said the Judge, calmly. “If civil life means a profession, it means the sort of labor a man is very unfit for after five-and-thirty. The Church, of course, is open on easier terms; but I have scruples about the Church. I really could not take orders without I could conscientiously say, This is a walk I feel called to.” “An honorable sentiment, sir,” was the dry rejoinder. “So that the end will be, I suppose, one of these days I shall just repack my bullock-trunk, and go back to the place from whence I came, with the fate that attends such backward journeys!” The Chief Baron made no remark. He stooped to fasten, a fallen carnation to the stick it had been attached to, and then resumed his walk. Sewell was so provoked by the sense of failure--for it had been a direct assault--that he walked along silent and morose. His patience could endure no longer, and he was ready now to resent whatever should annoy him. “Have you any of the requirements, sir, that civil services demand?” asked the Judge, after a long pause. “I take it I have such as every educated gentleman possesses,” replied Sewell, tartly. “And what may these be, in your estimation?”