“Never fear for me, dad,” said Ezra, with a sinister smile, pointing to a small leather case which lay among his things.  “That’s the best six-shooter I could get for money.  I’ve taken a tip, you see, from our good friend, the major, and have six answers for any one that wants to argue with me.  If I had had that the other day he wouldn’t have bounced me so easily.”

“Nay, but Ezra, Ezra,” his father said, in great agitation, “you will promise to be careful and to avoid quarrels and bloodshed.  It is against the great law, the new commandment.”

“I won’t get into any rows if I can help it,” his son answered.  “That’s not my game.”

“But if you think that there is no mistake, if your opponent is undoubtedly about to proceed to extremities, shoot him down at once, my dear lad, before he has time to draw.  I have heard those who have been out there say that in such cases everything depends upon getting the first shot.  I am anxious about you, and shall not be easy until I see you again.”

“Blessed if he hasn’t tears in his eyes!” Ezra exclaimed to himself, much astonished at this unprecedented occurrence.

“When do you go?” his father asked.

“My train leaves in an hour or so.  I reach the steamer at Southampton about three in the morning, and she starts with the full tide at six.”

“Look after your health,” the old man continued.  “Don’t get your feet wet, and wear flannel next your skin.  Don’t forget your religious duties either.  It has a good effect upon those among whom you do business.”

Ezra sprang from his chair with an exclamation of disgust and began to pace up and down.  “I wish to Heaven you would drop that sort of gammon when we are alone,” he said irritably.

“My dear boy,” said the father, with a mild look of surprise upon his face, “you seem to be under a misapprehension in this matter.  You appear to consider that we are embarking upon some unjustifiable undertaking.  This is not so.  What we are doing is simply a small commercial ruse—­a finesse.  It is a recognized maxim of trade to endeavour to depreciate the price of whatever you want to buy, and to raise it again when the time comes for selling.”

“It’s steering very close to the law,” his son retorted.  “No speculating, now, while I am away; whatever comes in must go towards getting us out of this scrape, not to plunging us deeper in the mire.”

“I shall not expend an unnecessary penny.”

“Well, then, good-bye.” said the young man, rising up and holding out his hand.  “Keep your eye on Dimsdale and don’t trust him.”

“Good-bye, my son, good-bye—­God bless you!”

The old merchant was honestly moved, and his voice quivered as he spoke.  He stood motionless for a minute or so until the heavy door slammed, and then he threw open the window and gazed sorrowfully down the street at the disappearing cab.  His whole attitude expressed such dejection that his ward, who had just entered the room, felt more drawn towards him than she had ever done before.  Slipping up to him she placed her warm tender hand upon his sympathetically.