"humbug," or "backslider," Mr. Gough was, even at that
early period, an antagonist not to be despised. He had been out of
pocket and out at the elbows--indeed, his wardrobe now was mean and
scanty; want and privation had been his companions, and, from his
grievous experiences, he had become a sensational story-teller of low
life and penury. Certainly Barnes had reason to lament the coincidence
which brought players and lecturer into town at the same time,
especially as the latter was heralded under the auspices of the Band
of Hope.

The temperance lectures and a heavy rain combined to the undoing of
the strollers. Majestically the dark clouds rolled up, outspread like
a pall, and the land lay beneath the ban of a persistent downpour.
People remained indoors, for the most part, and the only signs of life
Barnes saw from the windows of the hotel were the landlord's
Holderness breed of cattle, mournfully chewing their monotonous cuds,
and some Leicester sheep, wofully wandering in the pasture, or huddled
together like balls of stained cotton beneath the indifferent
protection of a tree amid field.

Exceptional inducements could not tempt the villagers to the theater.
Even an epilogue gained for them none of Mr. Gough's adherents. "The
Temperance Doctor" failed miserably; "Drunkard's Warning" admonished
pitiably few; while as for "Drunkard's Doom," no one cared what it
might be and left him to it.

After such a disastrous engagement the manager not only found himself
at the end of his resources, but hopelessly indebted, and, with much
reluctance, laid the matter before the soldier who had already
advanced Barnes a certain sum after their conversation on the night
of the country dance and had also come to his assistance on an
occasion when box-office receipts and expenses had failed to meet.
Moreover, he had been a free, even careless, giver, not looking after
his business concerns with the prudent anxiety of a merchant whose
ventures are ships at the rude mercy of a troubled sea. To this third
application, however, he did not answer immediately.

"Is it as bad as that?" he said at length, thoughtfully.

"Yes; it's hard to speak about it to you," replied the manager, with
some embarrassment, "but at New Orleans--"

The soldier encountered his troubled gaze. "See if you can sell my
horse," he answered.

"You mean--" began the other surprised.

"Yes."

"Hanged if I will!" exclaimed the manager. Then he put out his