ain my companion began almost immediately to resume
the conversation, but this time it was of a less personal nature, though
disagreeable enough.

For he made no secret at all that he was a youth of depraved tastes and
habits, and insisted on addressing me as though I resembled him in these
respects. He gave me what he doubtless intended to be a highly
entertaining and spicy account of many of his escapades and exploits in
town and country, appealing to me every few sentences as to what I
should have said or done or thought in similar circumstances.

And when he had exhausted his stories of himself he told me stories of
his friends, some of which were disgusting, some horrifying, and some
stupid. But with it all he had an air as if he believed everybody at
heart was bad, and as if morality and sobriety and unselfishness were
mere affectation and cant.

Has any of my readers ever met such a one as Masham? I hope not. If he
should, let him beware of him as the worst enemy a boy could encounter.
For no poison is more deadly than that which strives to make one man
lose all faith in his fellow-man.

I was so far infected by his manner that, though I felt ashamed to be
sitting and listening to his bad talk, I dared not protest, for fear of
appearing (what he would be sure to consider me), a hypocrite.

And so, unprofitably, the journey was beguiled, not without frequent
stoppings and refreshings, each of which had the effect of exhilarating
Whipcord's spirits and making Masham's tongue looser and looser.

At length Windsor was reached, and I looked forward to exchanging my
undesirable companion for more interesting occupation in seeing over the
town with its grand old castle.

But in this I was woefully disappointed. Whipcord drove straight up to
an inn in the town, where he ordered the horse and trap to be put up,
while we all entered the smoky coffee-room and discussed the
desirability of having dinner.

"I thought we were going to picnic out of doors?" I said, mildly, in
answer to Masham's appeal whether we should not order dinner where we
were.

"All very well if you could get your liquor laid on," said Whipcord. "I
fancy we'd better stay where we are. What do you say, Hawkesbury?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint Batchelor," said Hawkesbury, smiling, "but I
really think we shall get dinner more comfortably here. We've no plates
or knives; and, as Whipcord says, there would be a difficulty about the
beer."