'You'll never work the lead yourself? You have no experience. However, we will talk of that another time. Are you likely to be in Launceston next week?'
'Yes. I shall go there to pay you the mortgage money.'
'Very well. We are going to have a kick about on Thursday—the first dance in the season. There is a reason: Orange is engaged to Captain Trecarrel. Will you come?'
Herring thought a while before answering.
'Look here! I will tell that little bleached puss of a missie to expect you, and put your name down as her partner for the first caper.'
'I will come.'
All at once the Reverend Israel Flamank was seen flying down the valley, with coat tails expanded like wings, and his white tie loose and flapping. He was shouting and waving his arms.
What was it? Had he been bitten by a serpent? Had he found a nugget?
When he came up, he was breathless and of inflamed countenance. At length he gasped—'I have been privileged to discover it?' Then he paused again. A circle formed round him.
'A do-deka-penta-hedron,' he said. Then seeing the reporters with their notebooks in hand and pencils pausing in mid-air, and fearing that their knowledge of Greek surpassed his (he need have entertained no apprehension), he added simply, 'Solomon's Seal carved on a rock.'