‘Th’ applause of listening Senates to command.’

“I divine your ambition.  Captain Hocken, and I honour it,”

“So long as you don’t mistake me,” urged Cai nervously.  “It don’t go beyond a seat on the School Board at present. . . .  But there was a hint dropped that you used, back-along, to give lessons in—­I forget the word.”

“Elocution,” Mr Benny supplied it.  “A guinea the course of six lessons was my old charge.  Shall we say to-morrow, at eleven sharp?”

“So be it,” Cai agreed.  “The sooner the better—­I’ve to catch up the lee-way of three-quarters of a lifetime.”

When Cai had folded the draft of his letter, bestowed it in his breast-pocket, and taken his departure, Mr Benny drew out his watch.  It yet wanted a full hour of dinner-time.  He rearranged the papers on his desk and resumed work upon the ’Fasti’:—­

    “The hound beside the hare held consort in the shade,
    The hind, the lioness, upon the self-same rock,
    The too loquacious crow—­”

Here some one knocked at the door.

“Come in!” called Mr Benny.

The door opened.  The visitor was Captain Hunken.

“Good mornin’.”

“Ah!  Good morning, sir!”

“Busy?”

“Dallying, sir,—­dallying with the Muses.  That is all my business nowadays.”

“I looked in,” said ’Bias, laying down his hat, “to ask if you would do me a small favour.”

“You may be sure of it, Captain Hunken:  that is, if it should lie in my power.”

’Bias nodded, somewhat mysteriously.  “You bet it does:  though, as one might say, it don’t lie azackly inside the common.  I want a letter written.”

“Yes?”

“It ain’t, as you might put it, an ordinary letter either.  It’s,—­well, in fact, it’s a proposal of marriage!”

Mr Benny rubbed the back of his head gently.  “I have written quite a number in my time, Captain Hunken. . . .  Is it—­if I may put it delicately—­in the first person, sir?”

“She’s the first person—­” began ’Bias, and came to a halt.  “Does that matter,” he asked, “so long as I describe the parties pretty accurate?”

“Not a bit,” Mr Benny assured him.  “A friend, shall we say?”

“That’s right,” ’Bias nodded solemnly.

“And the lady?—­spinster or widow?”

“Widow.”

“Oh!”

“Eh?”

“Nothing. . . .  I was considering.  One has to collect a few data, you understand,—­in strict confidence, of course. . . .  Trade, profession, or occupation?”

“Whose?”

“Well, your friend’s, to start with.”

“Is that necessary?”

“It will help us to be persuasive.”  Seeing that ’Bias still hesitated, Mr Benny went on.  “May I take it, for instance, that one may credit him, as a friend of yours, with a seafaring past?”

“I do believe,” responded ’Bias with a slow smile after regarding Mr Benny for some seconds, “as you’re thinkin’ of Cai Hocken?”