‘I won’t get off thieves, I can tell you,’ said Temple.  He was the son of a barrister.

‘Nor you won’t help cook their gooses for them, may be,’ said the man.  ‘Well, kindness is kindness, all over the world.’

The women stormed at him to command him not to anger the young gentlemen, for Saddlebank was swearing awfully in an undertone.  He answered them that he was the mildest lamb afloat.

Despairing of the goose, we resolved to finish the cold repast awaiting us.  The Dutch cheese had been bowled into bits.  With a portion of the mashed tarts on it, and champagne, it tasted excellently; toffy to follow.  Those boys who chose ginger-wine had it, and drank, despised.  The ginger-beer and ale, apples and sallylunns, were reserved for supper.  My mind became like a driving sky, with glimpses of my father and Heriot bursting through.

‘If I’m not a prince, I’m a nobleman,’ I said to Temple.

He replied, ’Army or Navy.  I don’t much care which.  We’re sure of a foreign war some time.  Then you’ll see fellows rise:  lieutenant, captain, colonel, General—­quick as barrels popping at a bird.  I should like to be Governor of Gibraltar.’

‘I’ll come and see you, Temple,’ said I.

‘Done! old Richie,’ he said, grasping my hand warmly.

‘The truth is, Temple,’ I confided to him, ’I’ve an uncle-I mean a grandfather-of enormous property; he owns half Hampshire, I believe, and hates my father like poison.  I won’t stand it.  You’ve seen my father, haven’t you?  Gentlemen never forget their servants, Temple.  Let’s drink lots more champagne.  I wish you and I were knights riding across that country there, as they used to, and you saying, “I wonder whether your father’s at home in the castle expecting our arrival."’

‘The Baron!’ said Temple.  ’He’s like a Baron, too.  His health.  Your health, sir!  It’s just the wine to drink it in, Richie.  He’s one of the men I look up to.  It ’s odd he never comes to see you, because he’s fond of you; the right sort of father!  Big men can’t be always looking after little boys.  Not that we’re so young, though, now.  Lots of fellows of our age have done things fellows write about.  I feel—­’ Temple sat up swelling his chest to deliver an important sentiment; ’I feel uncommonly thirsty.’

So did I. We attributed it to the air of the place, Temple going so far as to say that it came off the chalk, which somehow stuck in the throat.

‘Saddleback, don’t look glum,’ said Temple.  ’Lord, Richie, you should hear my father plead in Court with his wig on.  They used to say at home I was a clever boy when I was a baby.  Saddleback, you’ve looked glum all the afternoon.’

‘Treat your superiors respectfully,’ Saddlebank retorted.

The tramp was irritating him.  That tramp had never left off smoking and leaning on his arm since we first saw him.  Two boys named Hackman and Montague, not bad fellows, grew desirous of a whiff from his pipe.  They had it, and lay down silent, back to back.  Bystop was led away in a wretched plight.  Two others, Paynter and Ashworth, attacked the apples, rendered desperate by thirst.  Saddlebank repelled them furiously.  He harangued those who might care to listen.