'
'Oh, there is the bell! Must you go, Mr. Audley? He will come back!'
'I wish I could stay, but Smith is gone to Dearport, and I do not
know whether the Rector is in. Besides, this must be your own doing,
Fernan, not mine. I shall pray for you, that you well know. Pray for
yourself, for this is a real crisis of life. God bless you, my dear
boy.' He laid his hand on the head, and Fernando looked up
gratefully, then said, 'You never did that before. May Lance come to
me, if he has not gone?'
'I will call him,' said Mr. Audley, seeing that he really dreaded
being alone. The little boy was on the stairs with something in his
hand. 'Go in to Fernan,' he was told, 'he wants you. What have you
got there?'
'This queer drawing. Cherry found it in an old portfolio, and has
been copying it.'
It was Ketzsch's outline of the chess-player, and it almost startled
Mr. Audley by its appropriateness. He went out to Evensong, and never
was more glad to get back to reinforce the feeble garrison.
Lance opened the front door to him. 'I'm so glad you are come!' he
said. 'Mr. Bruce is there.'
'Not the uncle?'
'No, only Mr. Bruce.'
Mr. Bruce was a lawyer, and a very respectable man, in whom Mr.
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