inued Dacres, still speaking in the tone of one who was
meditating aloud--"to allow such an idea even for a moment to take
shape in his brain! What an utter, unmitigated, unmanageable, and
unimprovable idiot, ass, dolt, and blockhead! Confound such a man! I
say; confound him!"

[Illustration: "CONFOUND SUCH A MAN! I SAY."]

And as Dacres said this he brought his fist down upon the table near
him with such an energetic crash that a wine-flask was sent spinning
on the floor, where its ruby contents splashed out in a pool,
intermingled with fragments of glass.

Dacres was startled by the crash, and looked at it for a while in
silence. Then he raised his head and looked at his friend. Hawbury
encountered his glance without any expression. He merely sat and
smoked and passed his fingers through his pendent whiskers.

"Excuse me," said Dacres, abruptly.

"Certainly, my dear boy, a thousand times; only I hope you will allow
me to remark that your style is altogether a new one, and during the
whole course of our acquaintance I do not remember seeing it before.
You have a melodramatic way that is overpowering. Still I don't see
why you should swear at yourself in a place like Naples, where there
are so many other things to swear at. It's a waste of human energy,
and I don't understand it. We usedn't to indulge in soliloquies in
South America, used we?"

[Illustration: "HAWBURY SANK BACK IN HIS SEAT, OVERWHELMED."]

"No, by Jove! And look here, old chap, you'll overlook this little
outburst, won't you? In South America I was always cool, and you did
the hard swearing, my boy. I'll be cool again; and what's more, I'll
get back to South America again as soon as I can. Once on the pampas,
and I'll be a man again. I tell you what it is, I'll start to-morrow.
What do you say? Come."

"Oh no," said Hawbury, coolly; "I can't do that. I have business, you
know."

"Business?"

"Oh yes, you know--Ethel, you know."

"By Jove! so you have. That alters the matter."

"But in any case I wouldn't go, nor would you. I still am quite unable
to understand you. Why you should grow desperate, and swear at
yourself, and then propose South America, is quite beyond me. Above
all, I don't yet see any reason why you should give up your
child-angel. You were all raptures but a short time since. Why are you
so cold now?"

"I'll tell you," said Dacres.

"So you said ever so long ago."

"It's a sore subject, and difficult to speak about."