“You can but you won’t,” I replied.  “Hand it over.”  I regarded the carrying of that suit-case as a symbol of my new way of life.  I hoped that when we arrived at the Farm, Anne might see me carrying it, and realise that even a writer of foolish comedies, who was well off and belonged to the Jervaises’ class, might aspire to be the equal of her brother.

“It’s all right,” Banks said, and his manner struck a curious mean between respect and friendship.

I laid hold of the suit-case and took it from him almost by force.

“You see, it isn’t so much a suit-case as a parable,” I explained.

He looked at me, still reluctant, with an air of perplexity.

“A badge of my friendship for you and your family,” I enlarged.  “You and I, my boy, are pals, now.  I take it you’ve left the Jervaises’ service for good.  Imagine that this is Canada, not an infernal Park with a label on every blade of grass warning you not to touch.”

“That’s all right,” he agreed.  “But it’s extraordinary how it hangs about you.  You know—­the feeling that they’ve somehow got you, everywhere.  Damn it, if I met the old man in the wood I don’t believe I could help touching my hat to him.”

“Just habit,” I suggested.

“A mighty strong one, though,” he said.

“Wait till you’re breathing the free air of Canada again,” I replied.

“Ah! that’s just it,” he said.  “I may have to wait.”

I made sounds of encouragement.

“Or go alone,” he added.

“They’ve cut up rough, then?” I inquired.

“Young Frank has, anyway,” he said with a brave assumption of breaking away from servility.

“You didn’t see the old man?”

“Never a sight of him.”

“And young Frank...?”

“Shoved it home for all he was worth.  Threatened me with the law and what not.  Said if I tried to take Her with me they’d have us stopped and take an action against me for abduction.  I suppose it’s all right that they can do that?”

“I’m afraid it is,” I said; “until she comes of age.”

“Glad I’d taken the car back, anyhow,” Banks muttered, and I guessed that young Frank’s vindictiveness had not been overestimated by Anne.  No doubt, he would have been glad enough to complicate the issue by alleging Banks’s theft of that car.

“Well, what do you propose to do now?” I asked, after a short interval of silence.

“I don’t know,” Banks said desperately, and then added, “It depends chiefly on Her.”

“She’ll probably vote for an elopement,” I suggested.

“And if they come after us and I’m bagged?”

“Don’t let yourself get bagged.  Escape them.”

“D’you think she’d agree to that?  Sneaking off and hiding?  Dodging about to get out of the country, somehow?” His tone left me uncertain whether he were asking a question or spurning the idea in disgust.