‘Yonder are our “velvet friends,”’ said Mr. Erin, pointing to a herd of deer in the distance. The allusion caused some trepidation in his companions, as chiming in only too opportunely with their late disloyal remarks; and it was much to their relief that Mr. Erin proceeded, as was his wont, to indulge himself in quotation. ‘And indeed, my lord, The wretched animal heaved forth such groans That their discharge did stretch his leather coat Almost to bursting; and the big round tears Coursed one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase.’ ‘What a graphic picture! “His innocent nose.” Who but Shakespeare would have dared to write “his innocent nose?”’ ‘Very true, sir,’ said William Henry gravely. ‘“His innocent nose.”’ Not a muscle of his face betrayed the drollery within him. He certainly possessed some tricks of the actor’s trade. Margaret stooped to pluck a daisy, an action which sufficed to account for the colour rushing to her cheeks. Frank Dennis, whose wits were not of the nimble sort fitted for such sudden emergency, felt he was about to suffocate. It seemed to him he had no alternative between speech—the act of saying something, no matter what—and an explosion. ‘With regard to deer shedding tears,’ he observed, ‘I have a friend who is a great naturalist, who tells me, as a matter of fact, that they can’t do it.’ ‘Can’t do what?’ inquired Mr. Erin curtly. ‘He says that from the peculiar formation of the ducts of the deer, or perhaps from the absence of them—— I know nothing about the matter myself, sir,’ put in the unhappy Frank precipitately, for the antiquary was looking daggers at him. ‘You know quite as much about it as your friend then,’ thundered Mr. Erin. ‘Great heavens! that a man like him, or you, or anybody, should venture to pick a hole in one of the noblest descriptions of the language: to find faults in Shakespeare himself! You remind me, sir, of the sacrilegious fellow in France, the other day, who gave it as his opinion that if he had been present at the Creation, he could have suggested improvements.’ ‘But indeed, sir, it was not my opinion.’ ‘It is quite as bad to quote those of infamous persons as to originate them yourself.’ Mr. Frank Dennis had very little of the serpent in him, not even its prudence; his sense of justice was shocked by this outrageous speech. ‘But it is a mere question of fact and science—— ‘ ‘Science,’ interrupted the other vehemently, ‘that is the argument of the Atheist against the Scriptures. Science, indeed! what is science when compared with the genius of Shakespeare? He told you, sir, that deer shed tears, and if they don’t, why—damn their eyes—they ought to!’ [Illustration: ’SCIENCE:’ INTERRUPTED THE ANTIQUARY, VEHEMENTLY. ‘THAT IS THE ARGUMENT OF THE ATHEIST AGAINST THE SCRIPTURES.’]