“And faith,” said the Artist, gayly,--“faith,” said he, lighting his third cigar, “it is time we should bestow a few words more on the Remorseless Baron and the Bandit’s Child! What a cock-and-a-bull story the Cobbler told us! He must have thought us precious green.” LIONEL (roused).--“Nay, I see nothing so wonderful in the story, though much that is sad. You must allow that Waife may have been a good actor: you became quite excited merely at his attitude and bow. Natural, therefore, that he should have been invited to try his chance on the London stage; not improbable that he may have met with an accident by the train, and so lost his chance forever; natural, then, that he should press into service his poor little grandchild, natural, also, that, hardly treated and his pride hurt, he should wish to escape.” VANCE.--“And more natural than all that he should want to extract from our pockets three pounds, the Bandit! No, Lionel, I tell you what is not probable, that he should have disposed of that clever child to a vagabond like Rugge: she plays admirably. The manager who was to have engaged him would have engaged her if he had seen her. I am puzzled.” LIONEL.--“True, she is an extraordinary child. I cannot say how she has interested me.” He took out his purse, and began counting its contents. “I have nearly three pounds left,” he cried joyously. “L2. 18s. if I give up the thought of a longer excursion with you, and go quietly home--” VANCE.--“And not pay your share of the bill yonder?” LIONEL.--“Ah, I forgot that! But come, I am not too proud to borrow from you: it is not for a selfish purpose.” VANCE.--“Borrow from me, Cato! That comes of falling in with bandits and their children. No; but let us look at the thing like men of sense. One story is good till another is told. I will call by myself on Rugge to-morrow, and hear what he says; and then, if we judge favourably of the Cobbler’s version, we will go at night and talk with the Cobbler’s lodgers; and I dare say,” added Vance, kindly, but with a sigh,--“I daresay the three pounds will be coaxed out of me! After all, her head is worth it. I want an idea for Titania.” LIONEL (joyously).--“My dear Vance, you are the best fellow in the world.” VANCE.--“Small compliment to humankind! Take the oars: it is your turn now.” Lionel obeyed; the boat once more danced along the tide--thoro’ reeds,---thoro’ waves, skirting the grassy islet--out into pale moonlight. They talked but by fits and starts. What of?--a thousand things! Bright young hearts, eloquent young tongues! No sins in the past; hopes gleaming through the future. O summer nights, on the glass of starry waves! O Youth, Youth! CHAPTER VI.