nd cobble stones, uncle," said the boy,
evasively. "And they're so clever with them; they throw so well. I
don't like to be hit and hurt, uncle. I suppose I've got a bad temper.
I do keep it under so long as they call me names and throw nasty, soft
things, but when a stone hits me and hurts, something inside my chest
seems to get loose, and I feel hot and burning. I want to hurt whoever
threw as much as he hurt me."

"What!" cried the old man. "Haven't I taught you, sir, that you must be
above resenting the attacks of the vulgar herd?"

"Yes, uncle."

"Of course. I have always had to bear those assaults, boy. And so the
young ruffians threw stones at you?"

Aleck hesitated.

"It was heads and bits of fish to-day, uncle."

"The scum! The insolent scum! And some of the offal hit you?"

"Well, no; nothing hit me, uncle. They followed me about all through
the place, and shouted at me every time I came out of a shop."

"Bah! And because some young ragamuffins were insolent to you, my
nephew must lower himself to their level. This is not the first time,
sir. You have complained to me before, and you remember what I said to
you one day when you came back after engaging in a most degrading
scuffle."

"Yes, uncle."

"You promised me that should never occur again, after I had pointed out
to you what your conduct ought to be, and how that the more you noticed
these young rascals' proceedings the worse it would be."

"Yes, uncle, but I couldn't remember it to-day. You can't tell how bad
it was, and how hard to bear."

"I? Not tell? Not know?" cried the old man, passionately. "I not know
what it is to be the butt of a few boys? You talk in your ignorance,
sir, like a fool talketh. Why, for long years past I have been the mark
for the contumely and insult of civilised England. Don't make your
paltry excuses to me. I say your conduct has been disgraceful. You
were trusted to go. I made no objection, sir, save that for your sake
and protection you should have an experienced boatman to help manage
your boat on the way back, and you come home in this degraded state--
hands and face bruised, your lips cut, and your eyes swollen up ready to
turn black with horrible bruises. Aleck, it is blackguardly. You make
me feel as if I ought to treat you as you deserve--take down that dusty
old riding whip and flog you soundly."

Aleck started violently, and his eyes flashed through the narrow slits
of lids.