[Illustration:  “A particularly hard nut to crack.”]

A few of his intimates came down to see the last of him, and Miss Nugent, who in some feminine fashion regarded the move as a triumph for her family, passed by several times.  It might have been chance, it might have been design, but the boy could not help noticing that when the piano, the wardrobe, and other fine pieces were being placed in the van, she was at the other end of the road a position from which such curios as a broken washstand or a two-legged chair never failed to entice her.

It was over at last.  The second van had disappeared, and nothing was left but a litter of straw and paper.  The front door stood open and revealed desolation.  Miss Nugent came to the gate and stared in superciliously.

“I’m glad you’re going,” she said, frankly.

Master Hardy scarcely noticed her.  One of his friends who concealed strong business instincts beneath a sentimental exterior had suggested souvenirs and given him a spectacle-glass said to have belonged to Henry VIII., and he was busy searching his pockets for an adequate return.  Then Captain Hardy came up, and first going over the empty house, came out and bade his son accompany him to the station.  A minute or two later and they were out of sight; the sentimentalist stood on the curb gloating over a newly acquired penknife, and Miss Nugent, after being strongly reproved by him for curiosity, paced slowly home with her head in the air.

Sunwich made no stir over the departure of one of its youthful citizens.  Indeed, it lacked not those who would have cheerfully parted with two or three hundred more.  The boy was quite chilled by the tameness of his exit, and for years afterwards the desolate appearance of the platform as the train steamed out occurred to him with an odd sense of discomfort.  In all Sunwich there was only one person who grieved over his departure, and he, after keeping his memory green for two years, wrote off fivepence as a bad debt and dismissed him from his thoughts.

Two months after the Conqueror had sailed again Captain Nugent obtained command of a steamer sailing between London and the Chinese ports.  From the gratified lips of Mr. Wilks, Sunwich heard of this new craft, the particular glory of which appeared to be the luxurious appointments of the steward’s quarters.  Language indeed failed Mr. Wilks in describing it, and, pressed for details, he could only murmur disjointedly of satin-wood, polished brass, and crimson velvet.

Jack Nugent hailed his father’s departure with joy.  They had seen a great deal of each other during the latter’s prolonged stay ashore, and neither had risen in the other’s estimation in consequence.  He became enthusiastic over the sea as a profession for fathers, and gave himself some airs over acquaintances less fortunately placed.  In the first flush of liberty he took to staying away from school, the education thus lost being only partially atoned for by a grown-up style of composition engendered by dictating excuses to the easy-going Mrs. Kingdom.