"Going to be a parson yourself, eh?"
"I am going up to Oxford in October, my lord; my father wishes me to take orders."
"Ah! And your own wish, eh?"
Harry hesitated.
"Come, out with it, my lad."
"I had thought, my lord, I should like to carry the Queen's colours; but 'tis a vain thought; my father's living is small, and——"
"And commissions in the Queen's army sell high. 'Tis so, indeed. Well, I heard something of your father last night at Sir Godfrey's; you can't do better than follow his example. And hark 'ee, if ever you want a friend, when you've taken your degrees, you know, come and see me; I owe you a good turn, my lad; and maybe I'll have a country vicarage at my disposal."
"Thank you, my lord!"
"And now we must get on. Dickory, you coward, help these two friends of ours to remove that tree. The villains laid their ambush well; you see they felled this larch at an awkward part of the road."
"And I thowt 'twas Simon forester a-choppen," said Sherebiah, as he walked towards the tree.