softer answer than that which A. J.
Raffles returned to Nipper Nasmyth before the staring eyes and
startled ears of all assembled. He courteously but firmly refused to
believe a word his old friend Nasmyth had said--about himself. He had
known Nasmyth for twenty years, and never had he met a dog who barked
so loud and bit so little. The fact was that he had far too kind a
heart to bite at all. Nasmyth might get up and protest as loud as he
liked: the speaker declared he knew him better than Nasmyth knew
himself. He had the necessary defects of his great qualities. He was
only too good a sportsman. He had a perfect passion for the weaker
side. That alone led Nasmyth into such excesses of language as we had
all heard from his lips that night. As for Raffles, he concluded his
far too genial remarks by predicting that, whatever Nasmyth might say
or think of the new fund, he would subscribe to it as handsomely as
any of us, like "the generous good chap" that we all knew him to be.

Even so did Raffles disappoint the Old Boys in the evening as he had
disappointed the school by day. We had looked to him for a noble
raillery, a lofty and loyal disdain, and he had fobbed us off with
friendly personalities not even in impeccable taste. Nevertheless,
this light treatment of a grave offence went far to restore the
natural amenities of the occasion. It was impossible even for Nasmyth
to reply to it as he might to a more earnest onslaught. He could but
smile sardonically, and audibly undertake to prove Raffles a false
prophet; and though subsequent speakers were less merciful the note
was struck, and there was no more bad blood in the debate. There was
plenty, however, in the veins of Nasmyth, as I was to discover for
myself before the night was out.

You might think that in the circumstances he would not have attended
the head master's ball with which the evening ended; but that would be
sadly to misjudge so perverse a creature as the notorious Nipper. He
was probably one of those who protest that there is "nothing personal"
in their most personal attacks. Not that Nasmyth took this tone about
Raffles when he and I found ourselves cheek by jowl against the
ballroom wall; he could forgive his franker critics, but not the
friendly enemy who had treated him so much more gently than he
deserved.

"I seem to have seen you with this great man Raffles," began Nasmyth,
as he overhauled me with his fighting eye. "Do you know him well?"