her, and when she asks of me, say I have a death upon my head that--No!
say that I am abroad, seeking for that which shall cleanse me. If I find
it I shall come to claim her. If not, God help us all!"

She had no strength to contest his solemn words, or stay him, and he went
forth.

CHAPTER XLI

A man with a beard saluted the wise youth Adrian in the full blaze of
Piccadilly with a clap on the shoulder. Adrian glanced leisurely behind.

"Do you want to try my nerves, my dear fellow? I'm not a man of fashion,
happily, or you would have struck the seat of them. How are you?"

That was his welcome to Austin Wentworth after his long absence.

Austin took his arm, and asked for news, with the hunger of one who had
been in the wilderness five years.

"The Whigs have given up the ghost, my dear Austin. The free Briton is to
receive Liberty's pearl, the Ballot. The Aristocracy has had a cycle's
notice to quit. The Monarchy and old Madeira are going out; Demos and
Cape wines are coming in. They call it Reform. So, you see, your absence
has worked wonders. Depart for another five years, and you will return to
ruined stomachs, cracked sconces, general upset, an equality made perfect
by universal prostration."

Austin indulged him in a laugh. "I want to hear about ourselves. How is
old Ricky?"

"You know of his--what do they call it when greenhorns are licensed to
jump into the milkpails of dairymaids?--a very charming little woman she
makes, by the way--presentable! quite old Anacreon's rose in milk. Well!
everybody thought the System must die of it. Not a bit. It continued to
flourish in spite. It's in a consumption now, though--emaciated, lean,
raw, spectral! I've this morning escaped from Raynham to avoid the sight
of it. I have brought our genial uncle Hippias to town--a delightful
companion! I said to him: 'We've had a fine Spring.' 'Ugh!' he answers,
'there's a time when you come to think the Spring old.' You should have
heard how he trained out the 'old.' I felt something like decay in my sap
just to hear him. In the prize-fight of life, my dear Austin, our uncle
Hippias has been unfairly hit below the belt. Let's guard ourselves
there, and go and order dinner."

"But where's Ricky now, and what is he doing?" said Austin.

"Ask what he has done. The miraculous boy has gone and got a baby!"

"A child? Richard has one?" Austin's clear eyes shone with pleasure.

"I suppose it's not common among your tropi