. It was all his own doing. I conclude that a fellow as shrewd as
he knew what he was about. Mayhap he said to himself, 'Beecher's the
downiest cove going. It will be a deuced sight better to have him as
my friend and pal than to send him to break stones in Australia. I can
stand to win a good thing on him, and why should I send him over
seas just out of spite? I'll come the grand magnanimous dodge over
him,--destroy the papers before his face, and say, "Now, old fellow,
what do you say to that for a touch of generosity?"'

"'Well, I'll tell you what I say, Master Davis,'" said he, drawing
himself up, and speaking boldly out. "'I say that you're a regular
trump, and no mistake; but you 're not the sharp fellow I took you
for. No, no, old gent, you 're no match for A. B.! He's been running in
bandages all this time past; and now that his back sinews are all right,
you'll see if he hasn't a turn of speed in him.' And what is more, I
'd say to him, 'Look here, Grog, we've jogged along these ten or twelve
years or so without much profit to either of us,--what say you if we
dissolve the partnership and let each do a little business on his own
account? If I should turn out anything very brilliant, you 'll be proud
of me, just as England says she is when a young colony takes a great
spring of success, and say, "Ay, he was one of my rearing!"' Of course
all dictation, all that bullying intolerance is at an end now, and time
it was! Wasn't I well weary of it! wasn't I actually sick of life with
it! I couldn't turn to anything, could n't think of anything, with that
eternal fear before me, always asking myself, 'Is he going to do it
now?' It is very hard to believe it's all over." And he heaved a deep
sigh as though disburdening his heart of its last load of sorrow.

"Davis is very wide awake," continued he; "he 'll soon see how to trim
his sails to this new wind; he 'll know that he can't bully, can't
terrorize."

A sharp quick report of a pistol, with a clanging crash, and then a
faint tinkle of a bell, cut short his musings, and Beecher hastened to
the window and looked out. It was Davis in the vine alley practising
with the pistol; he had just sent a ball through the target, the bell
giving warning that the shot had pierced the very centre. Beecher
watched him as he levelled again; he thought he saw a faint tremor of
the hand, a slight unsteadiness of the wrist; vain illusion,--bang went
the weapon, and again the little bel