"In England political prejudices have killed poets," the Englishman said.
"And now," Gid put in, "while you are discussing the evil I will try a little more of the good. John, have another peep at the blue dome above?"
"No, I must go and give Mrs. Cranceford old Billy's letter."
"Won't it alarm her?" the Englishman asked.
"Oh, not in the least," the Major answered, and old Gid smiled. "You couldn't scare her with a bell-mouth blunderbuss," he declared.
The Major now had reached the door, but turning back he said: "You gentlemen better sleep here to-night."
In a state of apparent alarm the Englishman sprang to his feet. "My bath," he cried. "No, I can't stop. I must have my bath."
"But you can bathe here."
"Oh, no, I must have my own tub, you know. But I shall be here early at morning. I must go now. Good night," he added, reaching the door. "You are very kind, I assure you." And when thus he had taken his leave, the Major, pointing at a lamp, said to Gid: "End room down the porch. Go to bed."