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ON HIS WAY THROUGH THE WORLD 439
was, was in a confounded ill-temper—very much disturbed by events
of the day—didn't mean anything but this, that, and so forth." If
this old chief had to eat humble pie, his brave adversaries were
anxious that he should gobble up his portion as quickly as possible,
and turned away their honest old heads as he swallowed it. One
of the party told his wife of the quarrel which had arisen, but
Baynes never did. " I declare, sir," Philip used to say, " had she
known anything about the quarrel that night, Mrs. Baynes would
have made her husband turn out of bed at midnight, and challenge
his old friends over again !" But then there was no love between
Philip and Mrs. Baynes, and in those whom he hates he is
accustomed to see little good.
Thus, any gentle reader who expected to be treated to an account
of the breakage of the sixth commandment will close this chapter
disappointed. Those stout old rusty swords which were fetched off
their hooks by the warriors, their owners, were returned undrawn
to their flannel cases. Hands were shaken after a fashion—at least
no blood was shed. But, though the words spoken between the old
boys were civil enough, Bunch, MacWhirter, and the Doctor could
not alter their opinion that Philip had been hardly used, and that
the benefactor of his family merited a better treatment from General
Baynes.
Meanwhile, that benefactor strode home through the rain in a
state of perfect rapture. The rain refreshed him, as did his own
tears. The dearest little maiden had sunk for a moment on his
heart, and, as she lay there, a thrill of hope vibrated through his
whole frame. Her father's old friends had held out a hand to him,
and bid him not despair. Blow wind, fall autumn rains ! In the
midnight, under the gusty trees, amidst which the lamps of the
réverbères are tossing, the young fellow strides back to his lodgings.
He is poor and unhappy, but he has Hope along with him. He
looks at a certain breast-button of his old coat ere he takes it off to
sleep. "Her cheek was lying there," he thinks—"just there."
My poor little Charlotte ! what could she have done to the breastbutton
of the old coat ?