ngs going favourably here, I
drive back to town to-morrow, and I hope you will accept a seat in my
carriage.'

He delivered his courtliest; he was riding on cloud.

They talked of Baden. His honourable surrender of her defeated purse was
a subject for gentle humour with her, venturesome compliment with him.
He spoke well; and though his hands were clean of Sir Meeson Corby's
reproach of them, the caricature of presentable men blushed absurdly and
seemed uneasy in his monstrous collar. The touching of him again would
not be required to set him pacing to her steps. His hang of the head
testified to the unerring stamp of a likeness Captain Abrane could affix
with a stroke: he looked the fiddler over his bow, playing wonderfully
to conceal the crack of a string. The merit of being one of her army of
admirers was accorded to him. The letter to Lady Arpington was retained.

Gower deferred the further mention of the letter until a visit to the
admiral's chamber should furnish an excuse; and he had to wait for
it. Admiral Baldwin's condition was becoming ominous. He sent messages
downstairs by the doctor, forbidding his guest's departure until they
two could make the journey together next day. The tortured and
blissful young man, stripped of his borrowed philosopher's cloak, hung
conscience-ridden in this delicious bower, which was perceptibly an
antechamber of the vaults, offering him the study he thirsted for,
shrank from, and mixed with his cup of amorous worship.

CHAPTER XXI. IN WHICH WE HAVE FURTHER GLIMPSES OF THE WONDROUS MECHANISM
OF OUR YOUNGER MAN

The report of Admiral Baldwin Fakenham as having died in the arms of a
stranger visiting the house, hit nearer the mark than usual. He yielded
his last breath as Gower Woodseer was lowering him to his pillow,
shortly after a husky whisper of the letter to Lady Arpington; and that
was one of Gower's crucial trials. It condemned him, for the pacifying
of a dying man, to the murmur and shuffle, which was a lie; and the
lie burnt him, contributed to the brand on his race. He and his father
upheld a solitary bare staff, where the Cambrian flag had flown, before
their people had been trampled in mire, to do as the worms. His loathing
of any shadow of the lie was a protest on behalf of Welsh blood against
an English charge, besides the passion for spiritual cleanliness:
without which was no comprehension, therefore no enjoyment, of Nature
possible to him. For Nature is