"I hope you are feeling better this morning, sir."
"I hope so, too; but don't let us waste words in compliments. Cummins tells me that you wished to bid me good-by."
"Yes, sir."
"Well, bid good-by, then."
"Grandfather, have you anything to say to me before I go?" respectfully inquired the young man.
"If I had, don't you suppose that I could say it? Well, if you wish advice, I will give it you very briefly: You are an 'officer and a gentleman'—that is the phrase, I believe?"
"I hope so, sir."
"Then behave as one under all circumstances. Never lie—even to women; never cheat—even the government. That is all. I cannot bless you if that is what you want. No man can bless another—not even the Pope of Rome or the Archbishop of Canterbury. No one under heaven can bless you. You can only bless yourself by doing your whole duty under all circumstances. You will have men in authority over you. Obey them. You will have authority over other men. Make them obey you. There, good-by!" said old Aaron Rockharrt, holding out his hand to his grandson.
Sylvan noticed how that hand shook as its aged owner held it up. He took it, lifted it to his lips, and pressed it to his heart.
"There, there; don't be foolish, Sylvan! Good-by! Good-by! And you, Fabian! What are you loitering here for, when you should be looking after the works?" impatiently demanded the Iron King.