_Ger._ Why, William! how you talk!--Yes! it would be grand! On the crest of the war-cataract--heading a cavalry charge!--Tomorrow, William. I shall be getting stronger all the way. We'll start to-morrow. _Col. G._ Where for, sir? _Ger._ For Italy--for Garibaldi. You'll go with me? _Col. G._ To the death, sir. _Ger._ Yes; that's it--that's where I'm going. But not to-day. Look at my arm: it wouldn't kill a rat!--You saved my life, but I'm not grateful. If I was dead, I might be watching her--out of the lovely silence!--My poor Psyche! _Col. G._ She's none the worse, sir. The pistol didn't go off. _Ger._ Ah!--She ought to have fallen to pieces--long ago! You've been seeking to keep her shroud wet. But it's no matter. Let her go. Earth to earth, and dust to dust!--the law of Nature--and Art too. _Exit into the house_. _Col. G._ (_following him_) I mustn't lose sight of him.--Here he comes again, thank God! _Catches up a coat, and begins brushing it_. _Re-enter_ GER. _Ger._ I don't like to see you doing that. _Col. G._ Why shouldn't I serve my own--superior, sir? Anything's better than serving yourself. And that's what every one does who won't serve other people. _Ger._ You are right. And it's so cheap. _Col. G._ And so nasty! _Ger._ Right again, William!--Right indeed!--You're a gentleman! If there's anything I could help you in--anything gone wrong,--any friends offended--I'm not altogether without influence. _Col. G._ (_aside_) He will vanquish me with my own weapons! _Ger._ But you _will_ go to Garibaldi with me? _Col. G._ I will, sir. _Ger._ And ride by my side? _Col. G._ Of course. _Ger._ If you ride by me, you will have to ride far. _Col. G._ I know, sir. But if you would be fit for fighting, you must come and have something to eat and drink. _Ger._ All right. A soldier must obey: I shall begin by obeying you. Only mind you keep up with me. _Exit, leaning on_ COL. G. _Enter_ THOMAS. _Tho._ Th' dule a mon be yere! Aw're main troubled to get shut ov they reyvers! Aw'm olez i' trouble! Mine's a gradely yed! it be!--Hoy!--Nobory yere! 'T seems to me, honest men be scarce i' Lonnon. Aw'm beawn to believe nobory but mo own heighes, and mo own oud lass. _Exit_. _Re-enter_ GERVAISE, _followed by_ COL. G. _Ger._ No, William; I won't lie down. I feel much better. Let's have a bout with the foils. _Col. G._ Very well, sir. (_Aside_.) A little of that will go far, I know. (_Gets down the foils_.) _Ger._ And, William, you must set a block up here. I shall have a cut or two at it to-morrow. There's a good cavalry weapon up there--next that cast of Davis's arm. _Col. G._ Suppose your father were to arrive just after you had started! _Ger._ I shouldn't mind. I don't want to see him yet. I'm such a poor creature! The heart seems to have gone out of me. You see, William-- _Enter_ MRS. CLIFFORD. _Ger._ Ah! How do you do, aunt? _Mrs. C._ What's this nonsense about Garibaldi, Arthur?