n Verney's nephew. Just so. I think I should have spotted
you, even if Harry had not told me you were in his form. You must lunch
with us. Cut along, now."

So John was dismissed, brim-full of happiness, which almost overflowed
when Caesar met him with an eager--

"I'm so glad, Verney. I say, the governor's a nailer at picking out the
old names, isn't he?"

So John ate his luncheon in distinguished company, and felt himself for
the first time to be somebody. As the youngest guest present, to him was
accorded the place of honour, next the most charming host in
Christendom, who put him at ease in a jiffy. How good the cutlets and
the pheasant tasted! And how the talk warmed the cockles of his heart!
The brand of the Crossed Arrows shone upon all topics. Who could expect,
or desire, aught else! Caesar's governor seemed to know what every
Harrovian had done worth the doing. Easily, fluently, he discoursed of
triumphs won at home, abroad, in the camp, on the hustings, at the bar,
in the pulpit. And his anecdotes, which illustrated every phase of life,
how pat to the moment they were! One boy complained ruefully of having
spent three terms under a form-master who had "ragged" him. Charles
Desmond sympathized--

"Bless my soul," said he, "don't I remember being three terms in the
Third Fifth when that tartar old Heriot had it? I dare swear I got no
more than my deserts. I was an idle vagabond, but Heriot made my life
such a burden to me that I entreated my people to take me away from
Harrow. And then my governor urged me to put my back into the work and
get a remove. And I did. And would you believe it, upon the first day of
the next term I wired to my people, 'You must take me away. I've got my
remove all right--and so has Heriot.'"

How gaily the speaker led the laugh which followed this recital! And the
chaff! Was it possible that Caesar dared to chaff a man who was supposed
to have the peace of Europe in his keeping? And, by Jove! Caesar could
hold his own.

So the minutes flew. But John noticed, with surprise, that the Demon
didn't score. In fact, John and he were the only guests that contributed
nothing to the feast save hearty appetites. It was strange that the
Demon, the wit of his house and form, never opened his mouth except to
fill it with food. He answered, it is true, and very modestly, the
questions addressed to him by his host; but then, as John reflected, any
silly fool in the Fourth Form could do that.