“Just like you—just like you,” muttered the doctor; “always out of the way when anything useful is to be done.”
“I’m sometimes in the way,” said Thud.
“You never said a truer word in your life, my boy!” cried the doctor laughing. “You are very frequently in the way of others.”
Thud did not look angry; he was too perfectly satisfied with himself to be sensitive to satire. To hit the lad was like thumping a bag of wool. In looking at Thud the chaplain was irresistibly reminded of an owl. A somewhat beaked nose in the midst of a full round face, half-closed eyes under rounded brows, a low forehead surmounted by a mop of hay-coloured hair, with a trick peculiar to Thud of poising his head a little on one side when any idea of peculiar magnitude weighed on his brain, made him resemble the bird ofMinerva. The large head was planted, almost without the intervention of neck, on a short, thick figure, the legs being particularly curtailed in length. Thud was not, however, a dwarf; and he had a good opinion of his own appearance, as well as of everything else appertaining to himself.
“Where are Mr. Coldstream and Io?” asked the doctor.
“Don’t know,” was the curt reply; then the young sage condescended to add, “I s’pose they’ve gone out.”
“You’ll please to find them,” said the doctor a little tartly. “Tell Coldstream that our chaplain, the Rev. Mark Lawrence, has called to see him; and let Io know that her old friend is waiting.—Pray, Mr. Lawrence, take a seat.”
“I’ll send a servant—” began Thud.
“No, sir, you’ll please to go yourself,” said the doctor; “you are more likely to find the pair, and more able to explain who have come to see them, than any native could be. Besides, you could not give a message in any tongue but your own; though I daresay that Io has learned a good deal of the language during the voyage from England.”
Thud again gave a regretful glance at his book, then slowly and unwillingly quitted the room. The only notice which he took of the chaplain as he passed him was shown by an awkward nod of the head.