hank you to do the honours there instead of me. Isn't it a comfort now,
to know that I broke the handle of my hunting-whip across the fellow's
back, and wore all the whip-cord into skeins. Come, I say, general,
don't eat us all round; and pray have mercy on that poor, flogged,
miserable sinner."

This banter did him good, especially as he saw Emily smiling; so he
relaxed his knit brow, condescended to look less like Giant Blunderbore,
soon became marvellous chatty, and ate up two French rolls, an egg, some
anchovies, a round of toast, and a mighty slice of brawn; these, washed
down with a couple of cups of tea, soothed him into something like
complacency.

CHAPTER XIX.

JULIAN'S DEPARTURE.

Long before the general got home, still in exalted dudgeon (indeed soon
after the general had left home over night), the bird had flown; for the
better part of valour suggested to our evil hero, that it would be
discreet to render himself a scarce commodity for a season; and as soon
as ever his mother had run up to his room-door to tell him of his
danger, when her lord was cross-questioning the butler, he resolved upon
instant flight. Accordingly, though sore and stiff, he hurried up,
dressed again, watched his father out, and tumbling over Mrs. Tracy, who
was sobbing on the stairs, ran for one moment to the general's room;
there he seized a well-remembered cash-box, and instinctively possessed
himself of those new, neat, double-barrelled pistols: a bully never goes
unarmed. These brief arrangements made, off he set, before his father
could have time to return from Pacton Square.

Therefore, when the general called, we need not marvel that he found him
not; no one but the foolish mother (so neglected of her son, yet still
excusing him) stood by to meet his wrath. He would not waste it on her;
so long as Julian was gone, his errand seemed accomplished; for all he
came to do was to expel him from the house. So, as far as regarded Mrs.
Tracy, her husband, wotting well how much she was to blame, merely
commanded her to change her sleeping-room, and occupy Mr. Julian's in
future.

The silly woman was even glad to do it; and comforted herself from time
to time with prying into her own boy's exemplary manuscripts, memoranda
of moralities, and so forth; with weeping, like Lady Constance, over his
empty "unpuffed" clothes; with reading ever and anon his choice
collection of standard works, among which '_Don Juan_' and Mr. Thoma