Dangerfield was looking straight at his float; but thinking of something else.  Whenever Sturk met him at dinner, or the club, the doctor’s arrogance and loud lungs failed him, and he fell for a while into a sort of gloom and dreaming; and when he came slowly to himself, he could not talk to anyone but the man with the spectacles; and in the midst of his talk he would grow wandering and thoughtful, as if over some half-remembered dream; and when he took his leave of Dangerfield it was with a lingering look and a stern withdrawal, as if he had still a last word to say, and he went away in a dismal reverie.  It was natural, that with his views about the agency, Sturk should regard him with particular interest.  But there was something more here, and it did not escape Dangerfield, as, indeed, very little that in anywise concerned him ever did.

‘Clever fellow, Doctor Sturk,’ said the silver spectacles, looking grimly at the float.  ‘I like him.  You remember him, you say, Irons?’

‘Ay, Sir,’ said Blue-chin:  ‘I never forget a face.’  ‘Par nobile,’ sneered the angler quietly.’  In the year ‘45, eh—­go on.’

’Ay, Sir; he slept in the “Pied Horse,” at Newmarket, and was in all the fun.  Next day he broke his arm badly, and slept there in the closet off Mr. Beauclerc’s room that night under laudanum, and remained ten days longer in the house.  Mr. Beauclerc’s chamber was the “flower de luce.”  Barnabus Sturk, Esq.  When I saw him here, half the length of the street away, I knew him and his name on the instant.  I never forget things.’

‘But he don’t remember you?’

‘No,’ smiled Blue-chin, looking at the float also.

‘Two-and-twenty-years.  How came it he was not summoned?’

‘He was under laudanum, and could tell nothing.’

‘Ay,’ said the spectacles, ‘ay,’ and he let out some more line.  ’That’s deep.’

‘Yes, Sir, a soldier was drownded in that hole.’

’And Dr. Toole and Mr. Nutter don’t love him—­both brisk fellows, and have fought.’

Blue-chin smiled on.

‘Very clever dog—­needs be sharp though, or he’ll come to—­ha!’ and a gray trout came splashing and flickering along the top of the water upon the hook, and Irons placed the net in Dangerfield’s outstretched hand, and the troutling was landed, to the distant music of ’God save the King,’ borne faintly on the air, by which the reader perceives that the band were now about to put up their instruments, and the gay folk to disperse.  And at the same moment, Lord Castlemallard was doing old General Chattesworth the honour to lean upon his arm, as they walked to and fro upon the parade-ground by the river’s bank, and the general looked particularly grand and thoughtful, and my lord was more than usually gracious and impressive, and was saying:—­

’’Tis a good match every way:  he has good blood in his veins, Sir, the Dangerfields of Redminster; and you may suppose he’s rich, when he was ready to advance Sir Sedley Hicks thirty-five thousand pounds on mortgage, and to my certain knowledge has nearly as much more out on good securities; and he’s the most principled man I think I ever met with, and the cleverest dog, I believe, in these kingdoms; and I wish you joy, General Chattesworth.’