n dudgeon, save that he was too pleasant a man really to
take offence at anything. His conversation was chiefly directed to me.
John took no part therein, but strolled about plucking at the hedge.

When the stage appeared down the winding of the road I was utterly
ignorant of what he meant us to do, or if he had any definite purpose
at all.

It came--the coachman was hailed. Mr. Charles shook hands with us and
mounted--paying his own fare and that of Yates with their handful of
charity-pennies, which caused a few minutes' delay in counting, and a
great deal of good-humoured joking, as good-humouredly borne.

Meanwhile, John put his two hands on my shoulders, and looked hard into
my face--his was slightly flushed and excited, I thought.

"Phineas, are you tired?"

"Not at all."

"Do you feel strong enough to go to Coltham? Would it do you no harm?
Would you LIKE to go?"

To all these hurried questions I answered with as hurried an
affirmative. It was sufficient to me that he evidently liked to go.

"It is only for once--your father would not grudge us the pleasure, and
he is too busy to be out of the tan-yard before midnight. We will be
home soon after then, if I carry you on my back all the ten miles.
Come, mount, we'll go."

"Bravo!" cried Mr. Charles, and leaned over to help me up the coach's
side. John followed, and the crisis was past.

But I noticed that for several miles he hardly spoke one word.

CHAPTER VI

Near as we lived to Coltham, I had only been there once in my life; but
John Halifax knew the town pretty well, having latterly in addition to
his clerkship been employed by my father in going about the
neighbourhood buying bark. I was amused when the coach stopped at an
inn, which bore the ominous sign of the "Fleece," to see how well
accustomed he seemed to be to the ways of the place. He deported
himself with perfect self-possession; the waiter served him
respectfully. He had evidently taken his position in the world--at
least, our little world--he was no longer a boy, but a man. I was glad
to see it; leaving everything in his hands, I lay down where he placed
me in the inn parlour, and watched him giving his orders and walking
about. Sometimes I thought his eyes were restless and unquiet, but his
manner was as composed as usual.

Mr. Charles had left us, appointing a meeting at Coffee-house Yard,
where the theatre then was.

"A poor barn-like place, I believe," said John,