Piers liked Mr. Jacks, and was soon chatting freely.  He told how his education had begun at a private school in London, how he had then gone to school at Geneva, and, when seventeen years old, had entered an office of London merchants, dealing with Russia.

“It wasn’t my own choice.  My father talked to me, and seemed so anxious for me to go into business that I made no objection.  I didn’t understand him then, but I think I do now.  You know”—­he added in a lower tone—­“that I have two elder brothers?”

“Yes, I know.  And a word that fell from your father at Northallerton the other day—­I think I understand.”

“Both went in for professions,” Otway pursued, “and I suppose he wasn’t very well satisfied with the results.  However, after I had been two years in the office, I felt I couldn’t stand it, and I began privately to read law.  Then one day I wrote to my father, and asked whether he would allow me to be articled to a solicitor.  He replied that he would, if, at the age of twenty, I had gone steadily on with the distasteful office work, and had continued to read law in my leisure.  Well, I accepted this, of course, and in a year’s time found how right he had been; already I had got sick of the law books, and didn’t care for the idea of being articled.  I told father that, and he asked me to wait six months more, and then to let him know my mind again.  I hadn’t got to like business any better, and one day it seemed to me that I would try for a place in a Government office.  When the time came, I suggested this, and my father ultimately agreed.  I lived with him at Hawes for a month or two, then came into Surrey, to work on for the examination.  We shall see what I get.”

The young man spoke with a curious blending of modesty and self-confidence, of sobriety beyond his years and the glow of a fervid temperament.  He seemed to hold himself consciously in restraint, but, as if to compensate for subdued language, he used more gesticulation than is common with Englishmen.  Mr. Jacks watched him very closely, and, when he ceased, reflected for a moment.

“True; we shall see.  You are working steadily?”

“About fourteen hours a day.”

“Too much! too much!—­All at the Civil Service subjects?”

“No; I manage a few other things.  For instance, I’m trying to learn Russian.  Father says he made the attempt long ago, but was beaten.  I don’t think I shall give in.”

“Your father knew Herzen and Bakounine, in the old days.  Well, don’t overdo it; don’t neglect the body.  We must have another talk before long.”

Again Mr. Jacks looked thoughtfully at the keen young face, and his countenance betrayed a troublous mood.

“How you remind me of my old friend, forty years ago—­forty years ago!”

CHAPTER III