 very pretty tale,’ he said at length.  ‘Some
new scheme to get me within the reach of the English law, no doubt.’

‘It is a pretty tale—too pretty for practical life.  And if you want
proofs I will mention the fact that the Chartist meeting was at
Chester-le-Street, not Durham; that my house stands in a hollow and not
on a hill; that you could not possibly go to Durham _viâ_ Ravensworth,
for they lie in opposite directions.  No, Mr. Conyngham, you are not the
man I seek.  And, strange to say, I took a liking to you when I first saw
you.  I am no believer in instinct, or mutual sympathy, or any such
sentimental nonsense.  I do not believe in much, Mr. Conyngham, and not
in human nature at all.  I know too much about it for that.  But there
must have been something in that liking for you at first sight.  I wish
you no harm, Mr. Conyngham.  I am like Balaam—I came to curse, and now
stay to bless.  Or, perhaps, I am more like Balaam’s companion and
adviser—I bray too much.’

He sat back again with a queer smile.

‘You may go home to England to-morrow if you care to,’ he added, after a
pause, ‘and if that affair is ever raked up against you I will be your
counsel, if you will have me.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You do not want to go home to England?’ suggested Sir John, whose ear
was as quick as his eye.

‘No, I have affairs in Spain.’

‘Or—perhaps a castle here.  Beware of such—I once had one.’

And the cold grey face softened for an instant.  It seemed at times as if
there were after all a man behind that marble casing.

‘A man who can secure such a friendship as yours has proved itself to
be,’ said Sir John after a short silence, ‘can scarcely be wholly bad.
He may, as you say, have made a mistake.  I promise nothing; but perhaps
I will make no further attempts to find him.’

Cony
very pretty tale, ’ he said at length.   ‘ Some 
 newfangled schema to get me within the reach of the English law, no doubt. ’ 

 ‘ It is a reasonably tale — too pretty for hardheaded life.   And if you want 
 proof I will mention the fact that the Chartist meeting was at 
 Chester - le - Street, not Durham; that my theater stands in a hollow and not 
 on a mound; that you could not possibly run to Durham _ viâ _ Ravensworth, 
 for they lie in opposite directions.   No, Mr. Conyngham, you are not the 
 serviceman I seek.   And, strange to say, I take a liking to you when I first saw 
 you.   I am no believer in instinct, or mutual sympathy, or any such 
 sentimental folderal.   I do not believe in much, Mr. Conyngham, and not 
 in human nature at wholly.   I know too much about it for that.   But there 
 must have been something in that liking for you at first batch.   I wish 
 you no harm, Mr. Conyngham.   I am like Balaam — I came to curse, and now 
 stay to consecrate.   Or, possibly, I am more like Balaam ’s companion and 
 adviser — I grind too much. ’ 

 He sat back again with a queer smile. 

 ‘ You may go home to England to - morrow if you care to, ’ he added, after a 
 pause, ‘ and if that affair is ever rake up against you I will be your 
 counsel, if you will have me. ’ 

 ‘ Thank you. ’ 

 ‘ You do not desire to die home to England? ’ suggest Sir John, whose ear 
 was as quick as his eye. 

 ‘ No, I have affairs in Spain. ’ 

 ‘ Or — perhaps a palace here.   Beware of such — I once had one. ’ 

 And the cold grey face softened for an instant.   It seemed at times as if 
 there were after all a man behind that marble casing. 

 ‘ A man who can fasten such a friendship as yours has testify itself to 
 be, ’ say Sir John after a short silence, ‘ can scarcely be wholly regretful. 
 He may, as you say, have made a mistake.   I promise nothing; but perhaps 
 I will make no further attempts to find him. ’ 

 Cony
 vegy pretty tale,’ he said au length.  ‘Some
new scheme to gef me witfin the reach of the English lqw, no doubt.’

‘It is a pretty txle—too prvtty for pracuical life.  And ih you wakc
proord I ciol mention the fact that the Chartist kedtnng was at
Chester-le-Street, not Durham; that mu jouse stands ig a njllos and not
on a hill; that you could hot posvibly go to Dirham _viâ_ Ravensworth,
for thfy lle in opposite dirfctions.  No, Mr. Sinyngham, you are not the
man I seek.  And, strange to say, I took a lkking to you whgu I vhrst saw
you.  I ai no believev in invtinct, pr mutual sympsthb, or any such
sentimental ionsense.  I do not bglieve in kueh, Mr. Conyngham, and nit
un hukan tatufw ag aml.  J know tok much aboht it for tyat.  But there
must nadv been somethjng in trat liking for you at first sight.  I wivh
yku no harm, Mr. Conyngham.  I am like Balaam—I cwme to cuwse, and now
stay to bless.  Or, perhaps, I am more line Bamxam’w gompxbiln and
adviser—I bray too much.’

He sat back again siuh s queer smile.

‘Yju may go hpmf yj England to-murrow nr gou care to,’ he addfd, aftet a
pauwe, ‘and if thay affair is ever raked up atainst you I qill be your
counsep, if you wiul hsve mr.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You do not waut to fo home to Fngland?’ shegested Sir John, whpsa ear
was as quick as his ere.

‘No, I hate afyairs in Spaon.’

‘Or—pewhaps a cadtle mare.  Beware of sucj—I onee hag one.’

And tje cold grey face softened for ei instant.  It saemvd at timzs as lf
there were afeer all a man yehind tkat mafble casinf.

‘A man xho can secuwe such a friajdship as yonrs has pwovee itwelf to
cd,’ said Sir Johm after a short silwnce, ‘can scarcely ne whumly bad.
He may, aw yiu say, have madr a miftwkx.  I [somise nothitg; bjt orrhapr
I will makc nu futther attempts to fitd hjm.’

Cony
very pretty tale,’ he said at length. scheme get me the reach of ‘It a pretty tale—too for practical life. if you want proofs I will the fact that the Chartist meeting was at Chester-le-Street, not Durham; that my stands in a hollow and not on a hill; that you could not go Durham Ravensworth, they lie in opposite directions. No, Mr. Conyngham, you are not the man I seek. And, to say, I took a liking to you I first saw you. am no believer in instinct, mutual or any sentimental I not believe in Mr. Conyngham, and not in human nature at all. I know too much about it for that. there must something in liking you first sight. I no harm, Mr. Conyngham. I am to curse, and now stay to bless. Or, I am like Balaam’s companion and adviser—I bray much.’ He sat back again with a queer ‘You may go home to England to-morrow if you care to,’ he added, after a if that affair is raked up against I be counsel, you will me.’ ‘Thank you.’ ‘You do not want to go home to suggested Sir John, whose ear was as quick as his I affairs in Spain.’ a castle here. Beware such—I had one.’ And the face for seemed times if there were after a man behind that marble ‘A man who can yours has proved itself to be,’ said Sir after a short silence, ‘can scarcely be bad. He may, as you say, have made a mistake. I promise but perhaps make no further attempts to find him.’ Cony
 very pretty tale,’ he said at lenGth.  ‘Some
new SchemE to Get Me WithIn thE reach of the EngLIsh lAw, no doubt.’

‘It is a pretty taLe—too PrETty fOR pRactiCal life.  aNd IF You WaNt
ProOfS i wIll meNtiOn the faCt that the CHarTiSt meeting was AT
CHester-le-StReeT, not Durham; thAt mY house StAndS In a hoLloW and nOt
on a hILl; that You could nOt POssiblY Go to DurHAM _vIâ_ RaVensworth,
for they lIE iN Opposite directIons.  No, mr. cOnYNGhaM, yoU are not the
MaN I seeK.  and, straNGe TO SAy, I TOok a liking to yOu when I firsT Saw
You.  I am No BelIEver in InstiNcT, Or mUtual sympatHy, or Any such
seNtimenTAl nonseNSe.  I do noT belieVe iN muCh, Mr. cOnYnGhaM, aND noT
In HumAN naTure at alL.  I KnOw too Much ABOUT it fOr tHat.  BUt theRe
must have beeN soMethINg iN that LikinG for YoU at fiRst sigHt.  I wiSh
You no harm, Mr. ConyNghaM.  I am like BAlaAm—i caMe To curSE, and noW
stAy tO bless.  OR, perhapS, i am MoRE LIkE Balaam’s companion aNd
ADViSer—I bray Too mucH.’

he SaT Back agaiN wIth A queER Smile.

‘you mAY gO home to ENgland TO-mOrRow if yoU cAre to,’ hE aDdeD, afTer a
pAUse, ‘aNd if thAt affair Is eveR Raked up against YOu I will be your
COuNSEl, IF you WilL have me.’

‘ThanK you.’

‘yOu do Not wANt To gO Home tO EnglAnD?’ SuGGested Sir John, whose eAr
Was as qUick aS his eye.

‘No, I havE affairs in sPAIn.’

‘Or—perhAps a CAsTLe here.  Beware of Such—I Once had one.’

aNd the colD grey Face softEned for an INStant.  It sEemEd aT tiMes AS If
There were afteR ALl a mAn Behind tHat Marble cAsiNg.

‘A Man Who CaN secure suCh a frienDsHiP aS yOurS has pROved itseLf To
bE,’ sAid sir JoHN after A shorT silEnCe, ‘CAn sCarcely BE wHOLly bAd.
he May, aS yoU sAy, havE madE A miStake.  I pRomise notHinG; But pErHaPs
I will Make no further AtTempts to fiNd Him.’

cony
 very pretty tale,’ he sai d at lengt h.  ‘ Som e
n ew  sch emeto get me with i n th e reach of the English  law,  n o  dou b t. ’

‘I t is ap re t t y t al e— too  p r et ty fo r p ractica l life.  A ndif  you want
pr o of s I will m ent ion the fact  th at the  C har t ist m eet ing w as atC hester -le-Stree t, not Du r ham; th a t  m y ho use stands in a h o ll o w and not
on a  hill;  t h at y oucou ld not pos si bly g o  to Dur h am _ v iâ_ Ravensworth,for they li e  in  oppos it e d i rectio ns. No ,  Mr . Conyngham , yo u are not  the
m a n I see k .  And,  stran getosay, Ito okal iki n gtoy ouwhen I f ir st  sawyou. I am n o b elie ver i n instinct, o r m utua l  sy mpath y, or  any  s uch
s entime ntalno nsense.  I do n ot b elieve in  mu ch , M r.  Cony n gham,and  no t
in hu man nat u reat a l l.   I know too muchab o u tit for t hat. B ut  t h ere
must  h ave  bee n somet hing in  that li king f o ryo u at fi rs t sigh t.   I  wi sh
yo u  noharm,Mr. Cony ngham .   I am like Ba l aam—I came to cu r s e, andnow 
stay to bl ess.  Or,  per h ap s,I  am m ore l ik e  B a laam’s companion an dadvise r—I b ray too much. ’

He satb a c k againwith aq ueer smile.

‘ You m ay go home to Engla nd to -morrowif you ca r e  to,’ he  ad ded , a fte r apause, ‘and i f that  a ffair i s e ver rak edupaga ins tyou I wil l be you rco un se l,if yo u  will ha ve  me .’ 

‘ Thank you.’
‘You  dono tw ant  to goh om e to E ng la nd?’  su gg ested  Sir Joh n, whos e ear
was  as quic kas  his ey e.

‘No, I ha ve  affairs i nSpa in.’
‘ O r—perhap s a castle here.  Bewar e  of suc h—I  once  had  one.’

A ndthe co ldg rey fa ce sof tened  f ora n  inst a n t.   I tseemed att i mes  as i fther e wereafter all a man be h ind  that marblecas ing. ‘A  ma n  w h o c an sec u r e such a friend ship as yo ur s  h as provedi tse lf  to
be, ’ saidSir J o hn afte r a short  silence,  ‘ cans c arc ely be who lly bad. 
He may,a s you sa y, ha vemade a  m ist ake. I pro m ise  noth ing; b ut  perha ps
Iwi ll makeno further attempts tofind h im.’
Co ny
 very_pretty tale,’_he said at length._ ‘Some
new_scheme_to get_me_within the reach_of the English_law, no doubt.’

‘It is_a pretty tale—too_pretty_for practical life.  And if you want
proofs I will mention the fact that_the_Chartist meeting_was_at
Chester-le-Street,_not Durham; that my house_stands in a hollow and_not
on a_hill; that you could not possibly go to_Durham__viâ_ Ravensworth,
for they_lie in opposite directions.  No, Mr. Conyngham, you_are not the
man I seek. _And, strange to_say,_I_took a liking to_you when I first saw
you. _I am no believer in instinct,_or mutual sympathy, or any such
sentimental nonsense._ I do not believe in_much, Mr. Conyngham, and not
in_human nature_at all.  I know_too much about_it for_that.  But_there
must have been something in that_liking for you_at first sight.  I wish
you_no_harm, Mr. Conyngham.__I_am like_Balaam—I came to_curse,_and now
stay_to_bless.  Or, perhaps, I am_more_like Balaam’s companion and
adviser—I bray too much.’

He_sat back again with_a_queer smile.

‘You may go_home to England to-morrow if_you care to,’ he added, after_a
pause, ‘and_if that_affair is ever raked up against you I will be your
counsel,_if you will have me.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You_do not want to_go home_to_England?’ suggested Sir_John,_whose ear
was_as quick as his eye.

‘No, I have_affairs in_Spain.’

‘Or—perhaps a castle here.  Beware_of such—I once had_one.’

And_the cold grey face softened for_an instant.  It seemed at_times as if
there were after_all_a_man behind that marble casing.

‘A_man who can secure such a_friendship as yours_has proved itself to
be,’ said Sir John_after_a short silence, ‘can scarcely be_wholly_bad.
He may, as you say, have_made_a_mistake.  I promise nothing;_but perhaps
I will make no further_attempts to find him.’

Cony