“I know Bathurst,--we _were_ intimate,” said he; “but we once were in love with the same woman,--the mother of an empress she is now,--and as I rather 'cut him out,' a coldness ensued, and somehow we never resumed our old footing. As for Croker, the Secretary, it was I got him that place.” “And Damer,--Skeff Damer,--do you know him?” “I should think I do. I was his godfather.” “He's the greatest friend I have in the world!” cried Tony, in ecstasy at this happy accident. “I made him drop Chamberlayne. It was his second name, and I was vain enough to be annoyed that it was not his first. Is he here now?” “Yes, he is attached to the Legation, and sometimes here, sometimes at Naples.” “Then we 'll make him give us a dinner to-day, for I shall refuse Bathurst: he is sure to ask me; but you will tell Darner that we are both engaged to _him_.” Tony only needed to learn the tie that bound his newly made acquaintance with his dearest friend, to launch freely out about himself and his new fortunes; he told all about the hard usage his father had met with,--the services he had rendered his country in India and elsewhere, and the ungenerous requital he had met for them all. “That is why you see me here a messenger, instead of being a soldier, like all my family for seven generations back. I won't say I like it,--that would n't be true; but I do it because it happens to be one of the few things I _can_ do.” “That's a mistake, sir,” said the Colonel, fiercely; “a mistake thousands fall into every day. A man can make of life whatever he likes, if only--mark me well--if only his will be strong enough.” “If wishing would do it--” “Hold! I'm not talking of wishing; schoolboys wish, pale-cheeked freshmen at college, goggle-eyed ensigns in marching regiments wish. Men, real men, do not wish; they will,--that's all the difference. Strong men make a promise to themselves early in life, and they feel it a point of honor to keep it. As Rose said one day in the club at Calcutta, speaking of me, 'He has got the Bath, just because he said he would get it.'” “The theory is a very pleasant one.” “You can make the practice just as pleasant, if you like it. Whenever you take your next leave,--they give you leave, don't they?” “Yes, three months; we might have more, I believe, if we asked for it.” “Well, come and spend your next leave with me at Corfu. You shall have some good shooting over in Albania, plenty of mess society, pleasant yachting, and you 'll like our old Lord High; he's stiff and cold at first, but, introduced by me, you 'll be at once amongst the 'most favored nations.'” “I can't thank you enough for so kind a proposal,” began Tony; but the other stopped him with, “Don't thank me, but help me to take care of this bag. It contains the whole fate of the Levant in its inside. Those sacks of yours,--I suppose you know what they have for contents?” “No; I have no idea what's in them.”