“So he told me yesterday; and though I warned him that he hadn't another boy if that fellow should come to grief, he only said, 'If he's got _my_ blood in him, he 'll keep his saddle; and if he has n't, he had better make room for another.'” “Ain't he a-going beautiful now?” cried George, as the animal swung slowly along at a gentle trot, every step of which was as measured as clockwork. “You 'll have to teach the youngster also, George,” said Hotham. “I 'm sure he never backed a horse in his life.” “Nay, sir, he rode very pretty indeed when he was six years old. I didn't put him on a Shelty, or one of the hard-mouthed 'uns, but a nice little lively French mare, that reared up the moment he bore hard on her bit; so that he learned to sit on his beast without holdin' on by the bridle.” “He's a loutish boy,” said Cleremont to the Captain. “I 'll wager what you like they'll not make a horseman of him.” “Ecoles says he's a confounded pedant,” said the other; “that he wanted to cap Horace with him at breakfast.” “Poor Bob! that was n't exactly his line; but he 'd hold his own in Balzac or Fred Soulié.” “Oh, now I see what Norcott was driving at when he said, 'I wanted the stuff to make a gentleman, and they 've sent me the germ of a school-usher.' I said, 'Send him to sea with me. I shall be afloat in March, and I 'll take him.'” “Well, what answer did he make you?” “It was n't a civil one,” said the other, gruffly. “He said, 'You misapprehend me, Hotham. A sea-captain is only a boatswain in epaulettes. I mean the boy to be a gentleman.'” “And you bore that?” “Yes. Just as well as you bore his telling you at dinner on Sunday last that a Legation secretary was a cross between an old lady and a clerk in the Customs.” “A man who scatters impertinences broadcast is only known for the merits of his cook or his cellar.” “Both of which are excellent.” “Shall I send him in, sir?” asked George, as he patted the young horse and caressed him. “Well, Eccles,” cried Hotham, as the tutor lounged lazily tip, “what do you say to the mount they 're going to put your pupil on?” “I wish they 'd wait a bit I shall not be ready for orders till next spring, and I 'd rather they 'd not break his neck before February or March.” “Has Norcott promised you the presentation, Bob?” “No. He can't make up his mind whether he 'll give it to me or to a Plymouth Brother, or to that fellow that was taken up at Salford for blasphemy, and who happens to be in full orders.” “With all his enmity to the Established Church, I think he might be satisfied with you,” said Cleremont. “Very neat, and very polite too,” said Eccles; “but that this is the Palace of Truth, I might feel nettled.” “Is it, by Jove?” cried Hotham. “Then it must be in the summer months, when the house is shut up. Who has got a strong cigar? These Cubans of Norcott's have no flavor. It must be close on luncheon-time.”