light shining on his
great silver moustache; and I thought what a fine, handsome, fierce old
fellow he looked as he stood frowning there for quite a minute without
speaking. Then, turning to Mr Solomon, he said quickly:

"I beg your pardon, Brownsmith. I was excited and irritable to-night,
and said what I am sorry for now."

"Then don't say any more, Sir Francis," replied Mr Solomon quietly.
"I've been your servant--"

"Faithful servant, Brownsmith."

"Well, Sir Francis, `faithful servant,'" said Mr Solomon smiling,
"these twenty years, and you don't suppose I'm going to heed a word or
two like that."

"Thank you, Brownsmith," said Sir Francis, and he turned to Ike and
spoke sharply once more.

"What regiment were you in, sir?"

"Eighth Hoozoars, Captain," said Ike, drawing himself up and standing at
attention.

"Colonel," whispered Mr Solomon.

"All right!" growled Ike.

"Well, then, Isaac Barnes, speaking as one old soldier to another, I
said words to you to-night for which I am heartily sorry. I beg your
pardon."

"God bless you, Colonel! If you talk to me like that arterward, you may
call me what you like."

"Eh?" cried Sir Francis sharply; "then I will. How dare you then, you
scoundrel, go and disgrace yourself; you, an ex-British soldier--a man
who has worn the king's uniform--disgrace yourself by getting drunk?
Shame on you, man, shame!"

"Go on, Colonel. Give it to me," growled Ike. "I desarve it."

"No," said Sir Francis, smiling; "not another word; but don't let it
occur again."

Ike drew his right hand across one eye, and the left over the other, and
gave each a flip as if to shake off a tear, as he growled something
about "never no more."

I hardly heard him, though, for I was trembling with agitation as I saw
Sir Francis turn to me, and I knew that my turn had come.

"Grant, my lad," he said quietly; "I can't tell you how hurt and sorry I
felt to-night when I believed you to be mixed up with that contemptible
bit of filching. There is an abundance of fruit grown here, and I
should never grudge you sharing in that which you help to produce. I
was the more sorry because I have been watching your progress, and I was
more than satisfied: I beg your pardon too, for all that I have said.
Those boys shall beg it too."

He held out his hand, and I caught it eagerly in mine as I said, in
choking tones.

"My father was an officer and a gentleman, sir, and to be called a thief
was