I smiled at his eagerness, and though I was tired after my day’s work I would not disappoint him, but stripped off my coat, and then and there began his instruction in what my old friend the captain called the noble art of self defense.  He proved an apt pupil, and I a conscientious teacher, pleasing myself with the thought that by making him expert in boxing I was maybe gathering interest on Dick Cludde’s crown piece.  And being then of the age when romantic ideas get some hold upon a boy’s mind, I flattered myself also that by staying on at the Hall I became in some sort a defender of fair Lucy Cludde, who was far too good, I vowed, for that pudding-headed lubber Dick.

After this Roger and I became faster friends than ever.  We had constant sparring matches and some practice also with singlestick and foils; and Mr. Johnson would let me off sometimes of an afternoon to go a-fishing with the boy.  Before I had been a month at the Hall there were few likely streams for miles around that I did not know.  All this time I had seen very little of the other members of the family.  Mr. Allardyce was putting me to probation, inquiring of my diligence from Mr. Johnson, and hearing somewhat of me from his son.  As for Mistress Lucy, I deliberately avoided her.  I had cut anything but an heroic figure at our two meetings, and though I was ready to engage in mortal fray as her champion, the recollection of my abashment before her caused me to hold aloof.  She and Roger would sometimes go riding together, and I thought with a bitter envy that, but for the misfortune that had befallen me, I might have made one of the party, though in truth I remembered, a moment afterwards, that but for this same misfortune I should very likely never have seen her.

Thus matters went on for upwards of a month.  My wages, which I had scrupulously saved, amounted to something above twenty-five shillings—­enough to pay my way to Bristowe.  There was no reason why I should remain longer at the Hall, and indeed I was beginning to grow restive under my servitude, light as it was, and to think more and more eagerly of my interrupted purpose.  One day, therefore, I sought an interview with Mr. Allardyce, and told him that having now enough money for my needs I wished to leave his service and set forth on my way.  He laughed and said: 

“I wondered how long ’twould go on.  You are still bent upon your travels, then?”

I assured him that such was the case, thanked him for his kindness, and asked to be allowed to go on the following Monday:  it was then Friday.

“Well, Joe,” says he, “I won’t stay you.  Mr. Johnson has given me good reports of you, and as for Roger, he is never tired of singing your praises.  According to him, you are a past master in exercises of arms, and I confess I had hopes you would give up your scheme and return to your friends and take the position you were clearly bred for:  then Roger and you might have been companions still.  But ’twas not to be; very well; on Monday we shall bid you our adieux, and we shall look to see you someday when you have made a name for yourself—­which to be sure will not be Joe.”