Page:What Will He Do With It? - Routledge - Volume 2.djvu/291

 leave to discuss his science with myself whenever we chat together on summer moons or in winter evenings; and perhaps I may--"

"Be converted?" said Waife, with a twinkling gleam of the playful Humour which had ever sported along his thorny way by the side of Sorrow.

"I did not mean that," said the Parson, smiling; "rather the contrary. What say you, Merle? Is it not a bargain?"

"Sir--God bless you!" cried Merle, simply; "I see you won't let me stand in my own light. And what Gentleman Waife says as to the vulgar, is uncommon true."

This matter settled, and Merle's future secured in a way that his stars, or his version of their language, had not foretold to him, George and Waife walked on to the station, Merle following with the Parson's small carpet-bag, and Sir Isaac charged with Waife's bundle. They had not gone many yards before they met Hartopp, who was indeed on his way to Prospect Row. He was vexed at learning Waife was about to leave so abruptly; he had set his heart on coaxing him to return to Gatesboro' with himself--astounding Williams and Mrs. H., and proclaiming to Market Place and High Street, that, in deeming Mr. Chapman a good and a great man disguised, he, Josiah Hartopp, had not been taken in. He consoled himself a little for Waife's refusal of this kind invitation and unexpected departure, by walking proudly beside him to the station, finding it thronged with passengers--some of them great burgesses of Ouzelford--in whose presence he kept bowing his head to Waife with every word he uttered; and, calling the guard--who was no stranger to his own name and importance--he told him pompously to be particularly attentive to that elderly gentleman, and see that he and his companion had a carriage to themselves all the way, and that Sir Isaac had a particularly comfortable box. "A very great man," he said, with his finger to his lip, "only he will not have it known--just at present." The guard stares, and promises all deference--opens the door of a central first-class carriage--assures Waife that he and his friend shall not be disturbed by other passengers. The train heaves into movement--Hartopp runs on by its side along the stand--his hat off-kissing his hand; then, as the convoy shoots under yon dark tunnel, and is lost to