“Done!” cried Ned and Clar, in one breath.
Then the lads shook hands solemnly, and the compact was made, which gave them a grand object in life, and sent them forth in search of the adventures which are now to be related.
Chapter Three.
In the Den of the Lawyer.
The next two weeks were spent in maturing plans by the young men for their intended expedition. Maps were consulted, and books of travel—Livingstone, Stanley, and other authorities—devoured in such leisure times as they had from their finishing studies.
At last the day arrived—their last day of school life; their last day under the fatherly control of Dr Heardman. The good doctor was proud of his three crack pupils, and prophesied great futures for them. The younger schoolmates went off to their different homes in deep dejection, wondering how they were ever to get on, the next term, without their heroes and champions.
Of course their places would quickly be filled up, for heroic souls and talented minds are common enough products of British soil. Infatuated adherents of Disraeli, Gladstone, and Salisbury are apt to fancy that chaos must come when they have gone from their posts. Yet the old state coach rumbles along pretty much as it did in the days of former drivers. The ocean nibbles away at sea-coasts, and encroaches every year in some parts, while it retires from others in the same proportions. Continents have been submerged, and ancient cities buried under the brine; but other continents, cities, and nations have risen and taken the work of civilisation upon them. The earth has not become a fraction smaller, the ocean has not increased by so much as a drop of water.
Heroes have risen and carved their names on the monument of history, but mankind has not suffered by their passing away. It benefited, perchance, through their living, as the grain-fields benefit by the passing rains; yet as the moisture returns to the clouds, and comes down again and again, so do great deeds repeat themselves amongst men as in nature. The drop of rain is nothing after it has done its work; the man is of no more consideration after the emergency has passed for which his strength was produced.