’My dear papa!—­do you intend me to spend the remainder of my life in the drawing-room?’

’Don’t you be impertinent!—­do-do-don’t you speak to me like that!—­I—­I—­I won’t have it!’

’I tell you what it is, papa, if you don’t take care you’ll have another attack of gout.’

‘Damn gout.’

That was the most sensible thing he said; if such a tormentor as gout can be consigned to the nether regions by the mere utterance of a word, by all means let the word be uttered.  Off he went again.

‘The man’s a ruffianly, rascally,—­’ and so on.  ’There’s not such a villainous vagabond—­’ and all the rest of it.  ’And I order you,—­I’m a Lindon, and I order you!  I’m your father, and I order you!—­I order you never to speak to such a—­such a’—­various vain repetitions—­’again, and—­and—­and I order you never to look at him!’

’Listen to me, papa.  I will promise you never to speak to Paul Lessingham again, if you will promise me never to speak to Lord Cantilever again,—­or to recognise him if you meet him in the street.’

’You should have seen how papa glared.  Lord Cantilever is the head of his party.  Its august, and, I presume, reverenced leader.  He is papa’s particular fetish.  I am not sure that he does regard him as being any lower than the angels, but if he does it is certainly something in decimals.  My suggestion seemed as outrageous to him as his suggestion seemed to me.  But it is papa’s misfortune that he can only see one side of a question,—­and that’s his own.’

‘You—­you dare to compare Lord Cantilever to—­to that—­that—­that—!’

’I am not comparing them.  I am not aware of there being anything in particular against Lord Cantilever,—­that is against his character.  But, of course, I should not dream of comparing a man of his calibre, with one of real ability, like Paul Lessingham.  It would be to treat his lordship with too much severity.’

I could not help it,—­but that did it.  The rest of papa’s conversation was a jumble of explosions.  It was all so sad.

Papa poured all the vials of his wrath upon Paul,—­to his own sore disfigurement.  He threatened me with all the pains and penalties of the inquisition if I did not immediately promise to hold no further communication with Mr Lessingham,—­of course I did nothing of the kind.  He cursed me, in default, by bell, book, and candle, —­and by ever so many other things beside.  He called me the most dreadful names,—­me! his only child.  He warned me that I should find myself in prison before I had done,—­I am not sure that he did not hint darkly at the gallows.  Finally, he drove me from the room in a whirlwind of anathemas.

CHAPTER XXVII

THE TERROR BY NIGHT

When I left papa,—­or, rather, when papa had driven me from him—­I went straight to the man whom I had found in the street.  It was late, and I was feeling both tired and worried, so that I only thought of seeing for myself how he was.  In some way, he seemed to be a link between Paul and myself, and as, at that moment, links of that kind were precious, I could not have gone to bed without learning something of his condition.