"I'd rather be with you," said the boy very confidently, "than Mr. Lasher. I'd rather write stories than preach sermons that no one wants to listen to." Then more timidly he continued: "I know what you meant about the man who comes when you're a baby. I remember him quite well, but I never can say anything because they'd say I was silly. Sometimes I think he's still hanging round only he doesn't come to the vicarage much. He doesn't like Mr. Lasher much, I expect. But I _do_ remember him. He had a beard and I used to think it funny the nurse didn't see him. That was before we went to Ceylon, you know, we used to live in Polchester then. When it was nearly dark and not quite he'd be there. I forgot about him in Ceylon, but since I've been here I've wondered ... it's sometimes like some one whispering to you and you know if you turn round he won't be there, but he _is_ there all the same. I made twenty-five last summer against Porthington Grammar; they're not much good _really_, and it was our second eleven, and I was nearly out second ball; anyway I made twenty-five, and afterwards as I was ragging about I suddenly thought of him. I _know_ he was pleased. If it had been a little darker I believe I'd have seen him. And then last night, after I was in bed and was thinking about what you'd said I _know_ he was near the window, only I didn't look lest he should go away. But of course Mr. Lasher would say that's all rot, like the pirates, only I _know_ it isn't." Hugh broke off for lack of breath, nothing else would have stopped him. When he was encouraged he was a terrible talker. He suddenly added in a sharp little voice like the report from a pistol: "So one can't be lonely or anything, can one, if there's always some one about?" Mr. Pidgen was greatly touched. He put his hand upon Hugh's shoulder. "My dear boy," he said, "my dear boy--dear me, dear me. I'm afraid you're going to have a dreadful time when you grow up. I really mustn't encourage you. And yet, who can help himself?" "But you said yourself that you'd seen him, that you knew him quite well?" "And so I do--and so I do. But you'll find, as you grow older, there are many people who won't believe you. And there's this, too. The more you live in your head, dreaming and seeing things that aren't there, the less you'll see the things that _are_ there. You'll always be tumbling over things. You'll never get on. You'll never be a success." "Never mind," said Hugh, "it doesn't matter much what you say now, you're only talking 'for my good' like Mr. Lasher. I don't care, I heard what you said yesterday, and it's made all the difference. I'll come and stay with you." "Well, so you shall," said Mr. Pidgen. "I can't help it. You shall come as often as you like. Upon my soul, I'm younger to-day than I've felt for a long time. We'll go to the pantomime together if you aren't too old for it. I'll manage to ruin you all right. What's that shining?" He pointed in front of him.