"Well, Joe," says he, "I won't stay you. Mr. Johnson has given me
good reports of you, and as for Roger, he is never tired of singing
your praises. According to him, you are a past master in exercises
of arms, and I confess I had hopes you would give up your scheme
and return to your friends and take the position you were clearly
bred for: then Roger and you might have been companions still. But
'twas not to be; very well; on Monday we shall bid you our adieux,
and we shall look to see you someday when you have made a name for
yourself--which to be sure will not be Joe."
I was up early next morning, and was going off for my customary
swim when, on crossing a stile, I saw a figure draw back into a
coppice bounding the field. Thinking it was Roger who had been
before me, I called to him, but receiving no answer, and wondering
who could be abroad at that early hour--for the men of the estate
were engaged in their duties elsewhere--I sprang down and strode
off to the coppice, moved by some little curiosity. But though I
walked to and fro among the trees for some time, I saw no one, and
concluding that it was probably some poacher returning home from
his night's work I went on to the bathing place, resolved to give a
hint to Mr. Johnson.
Roger joined me presently, with a glum face.
"Oh, I say, Joe," he said, "this is deuced bad news. Father says
you are leaving us on Monday."
"Yes, I have been here long enough," I said.
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