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in his large gardens and that half…mile of greenhouses； where
he has probably ripened his intellect and temper； he may say
what he will to his hired vassals； but （as the Scotch say） …
here
He mauna think to domineer。
'Liberalism；' continued the anonymous journalist； 'is of too
free and sound a growth；' etc。
Richard Naseby read the whole thing from beginning to end；
and a crushing shame fell upon his spirit。 His father had
played the fool； he had gone out noisily to war； and come
back with confusion。 The moment that his trumpets sounded；
he had been disgracefully unhorsed。 There was no question as
to the facts； they were one and all against the Squire。
Richard would have given his ears to have suppressed the
issue； but as that could not be done； he had his horse
saddled； and furnishing himself with a convenient staff； rode
off at once to Thymebury。
The editor was at breakfast in a large； sad apartment。 The
absence of furniture； the extreme meanness of the meal； and
the haggard； bright…eyed； consumptive look of the culprit；
unmanned our hero； but he clung to his stick； and was stout
and warlike。
'You wrote the article in this morning's paper？' he demanded。
'You are young Mr。 Naseby？ I PUBLISHED it；' replied the
editor； rising。
'My father is an old man；' said Richard； and then with an
outburst； 'And a damned sight finer fellow than either you or
Dalton！' He stopped and swallowed； he was determined that
all should go with regularity。 'I have but one question to
put to you； sir；' he resumed。 'Granted that my father was
misinformed； would it not have been more decent to withhold
the letter and communicate with him in private？'
'Believe me；' returned the editor； 'that alternative was not
open to me。 Mr。 Naseby told me in a note that he had sent
his letter to three other journals； and in fact threatened me
with what he called exposure if I kept it back from mine。 I
am really concerned at what has happened； I sympathise and
approve of your emotion； young gentleman； but the attack on
Mr。 Dalton was gross； very gross； and I had no choice but to
offer him my columns to reply。 Party has its duties； sir；'
added the scribe； kindling； as one who should propose a
sentiment； 'and the attack was gross。'
Richard stood for half a minute digesting the answer； and
then the god of fair play came upper…most in his heart； and
murmuring 'Good morning；' he made his escape into the street。
His horse was not hurried on the way home； and he was late
for breakfast。 The Squire was standing with his back to the
fire in a state bordering on apoplexy； his fingers violently
knitted under his coat tails。 As Richard came in； he opened
and shut his mouth like a cod…fish； and his eyes protruded。
'Have you seen that； sir？' he cried； nodding towards the
paper。
'Yes； sir；' said Richard。
'Oh； you've read it； have you？'
'Yes； I have read it；' replied Richard； looking at his foot。
'Well；' demanded the old gentleman； 'and what have you to say
to it； sir？'
'You seem to have been misinformed；' said Dick。
'Well？ What then？ Is your mind so sterile； sir？ Have you
not a word of comment？ no proposal？'
'I fear； sir； you must apologise to Mr。 Dalton。 It would be
more handsome； indeed it would be only just； and a free
acknowledgment would go far … ' Richard paused； no language
appearing delicate enough to suit the case。
'That is a suggestion which should have come from me； sir；'
roared the father。 'It is out of place upon your lips。 It
is not the thought of a loyal son。 Why； sir； if my father
had been plunged in such deplorable circumstances； I should
have thrashed the editor of that vile sheet within an inch of
his life。 I should have thrashed the man； sir。 It would
have been the action of an ass； but it would have shown that
I had the blood and the natural affections of a man。 Son？
You are no son； no son of mine； sir！'
'Sir！' said Dick。
'I'll tell you what you are； sir；' pursued the Squire。
'You're a Benthamite。 I disown you。 Your mother would have
died for shame； there was no modern cant about your mother；
she thought … she said to me； sir … I'm glad she's in her
grave； Dick Naseby。 Misinformed！ Misinformed； sir？ Have
you no loyalty； no spring； no natural affections？ Are you
clockwork； hey？ Away！ This is no place for you。 Away！'
（waving his hands in the air）。 'Go away！ Leave me！'
At this moment Dick beat a retreat in a disarray of nerves； a
whistling and clamour of his own arteries； and in short in
such a final bodily disorder as made him alike incapable of
speech or hearing。 And in the midst of all this turmoil； a
sense of unpardonable injustice remained graven in his
memory。
CHAPTER III … IN THE ADMIRAL'S NAME
THERE was no return to the subject。 Dick and his father were
henceforth on terms of coldness。 The upright old gentleman
grew more upright when he met his son； buckrammed with
immortal anger； he asked after Dick's health； and discussed
the weather and the crops with an appalling courtesy； his
pronunciation was POINT…DE…VICE； his voice was distant；
distinct； and sometimes almost trembling with suppressed
indignation。
As for Dick； it seemed to him as if his life had come
abruptly to an end。 He came out of his theories and
clevernesses； his premature man…of…the…worldness； on which he
had prided himself on his travels； 'shrank like a thing
ashamed' before this real sorrow。 Pride； wounded honour；
pity and respect tussled together daily in his heart； and now
he was within an ace of throwing himself upon his father's
mercy； and now of slipping forth at night and coming back no
more to Naseby House。 He suffered from the sight of his
father； nay； even from the neighbourhood of this familiar
valley； where every corner had its legend； and he was
besieged with memories of childhood。 If he fled into a new
land； and among none but strangers； he might escape his
destiny； who knew？ and begin again light…heartedly。 From
that chief peak of the hills； that now and then； like an
uplifted finger； shone in an arrow of sunlight through the
broken clouds； the shepherd in clear weather might perceive
the shining of the sea。 There； he thought； was hope。 But
his heart failed him when he saw the Squire； and he remained。
His fate was not that of the voyager by sea and land； he was
to travel in the spirit； and begin his journey sooner than he
supposed。
For it chanced one day that his walk led him into a portion
of the uplands which was almost unknown to him。 Scrambling
through some rough woods； he came out upon a moorland
reaching towards the hills。 A few lofty Scotch firs grew
hard by upon a knoll； a clear fountain near the foot of the
knoll sent up a miniature streamlet which meandered in the
heather。 A shower had just skimmed by； but now the sun shone
brightly； and the air smelt of the pines and the grass。 On a
stone under the trees sat a young lady sketching。 We have
learned to think of women in a sort of symbolic
transfiguration； based on clothes； and one of the readiest
ways in which we conceive our mistress is as a composite
thing； principally petticoats。 But humanity has triumphed
over clothes； the look； the touch of a dress has become
alive； and the woman who stitched herself into these material
integuments has now permeated right through and gone out to
the tip of her skirt。 It was only a black dress that caught
Dick Naseby's eye； but it took possession of his mind； and
all other thoughts departed。 He drew near； and the girl
turned round。 Her face startled him； it was a face he
wanted； and he took it in at once like breathing air。
'I beg your pardon；' he said； taking off his hat； 'you are
sketching。'
'Oh！' she exclaimed； 'for my own amusement。 I despise the
thing。'
'Ten to one； yo