Old Corrie gave him a sour look. "I'll not believe that of the little lady. The most likely reason is that she has been prevented by that old fox her uncle. Her silence must have grieved you, Master Basil." Basil nodded. "I know how your heart was set upon her."
"Don't let's talk about it," said Basil, "it is the way of the world."
"That may be," said Old Corrie, regarding Basil attentively, "but I'd have staked my life that it wasn't the way of the little lady. What has come over you? You're changed. You were always brimming over with life and spirits, and now you're as melancholy as a black crow."
"I'm falling into the sere and yellow," said Basil, with a melancholy smile.
"I can only guess at what you mean. You're getting old. Why, man alive, there's a good five-and-twenty year between you and me, and I don't consider myself falling into the what-do-you-call-'em! Pluck up, Master Basil. Here, let's have a little chat aside."
Chaytor gave Basil a look which meant, as plain as words could speak it, "Are you going to have secret conversations away from me after all the years we have been together, after all I've done for you?"
"Corrie," said Basil, laying one hand on Old Corrie's arm and the other on Chaytor's, "if you've anything to say to me I should like you to say it before Chaytor. There's nothing I would wish to hide from him. He's been the truest friend to me a man ever had, and I owe him more than I can ever repay."
"Nonsense, Basil," said Chaytor with magnanimous humility; "don't say anything about it."
"But it ought to be said, and I should be the ungratefullest fellow living if I ever missed an opportunity of acknowledging it. I owe you something too, Corrie. There's that mare of yours I borrowed and lost."
"Shut up," growled Old Corrie, "if you want us to part friends. I've never given the mare a thought, and as for paying me for it, well, you can't, and there's an end of it. I'll say before your mate what is in my mind. You're a gentleman, Master Basil, and here you are wasting your time and your years to no purpose. England is the proper place for you." Chaytor caught his breath, and neither Basil nor Old Corrie could have interpreted this exhibition of emotion aright; but Basil, who thought he understood it, smiled gently at Chaytor, as much as to say, "Don't fear, I am not going to desert you." Old Corrie, who had paused, took up his words: "England is the proper place for you. Say the word, and we'll go together to Sydney and take two passages for home. There you can hunt up your old friends, and you'll be a man once more. Come now, say, 'Yes, Corrie,' and put me under an obligation to you for life."