"Some men would have given it up in despair, sir. But there he is, safe and sound, and, I dare say, boy-like, it will not be very long before he gets into some mischief again."

Sir James Danby coughed, and Doctor Grayson frowned as he met his friend's peculiar look. But nothing was said then till the surgeon had been up to see his patient once more, after which he returned, reported that Dexter had sunk into a sound slumber, and then took his leave.

"I suppose we shall not go back to Coleby to-night?" said Sir James.

"I shall not," said the doctor; "but, my dear Danby, pray don't let me keep you."

"Oh! you will not keep me," said Sir James quietly. "I've got to make arrangements about my boat being taken up the river."

"Why not let my men row it back!" said the doctor.

"Because I did not like to impose on your kindness."

"Then they may take it?"

"I shall only be too grateful," said Sir James.

Nothing more was said till they had ordered and sat down to a snug dinner in the hotel, when Sir James opened the ball.

"Now, Grayson," he said, "I happen to be a magistrate."

"Yes, of course," said the doctor uneasily.

"Well, then, I want to have a few words with you about those two boys."

The doctor nodded.

"Your groom is with your _protege_, and your old gardener has that other young scoundrel in charge."

"In charge?" said the doctor.

"Yes; you may call it so. I told him not to lose sight of the young rascal, and I also told your groom to exercise the same supervision over the other."

"But surely, my dear Danby, you do not mean to--"

"Deal with them as I would with any other offender? Why not?"

The doctor had no answer ready, so Sir James went on--

"I valued that boat very highly, and certainly I've got it back--with the exception of the stains upon the cushions--very little the worse.

But this was a serious theft, almost as bad as horse-stealing, and I shall have to make an example of them."

"But one of them has been terribly punished," said the doctor eagerly.

"Pooh! not half enough, sir. Come, Grayson, of course this has completely cured you of your mad folly!"

"My mad folly!" cried the doctor excitedly. "May I ask you what you mean?"

"Now, my dear Grayson, pray don't be angry. I only say, as an old friend and neighbour, surely you must be ready to agree that your wild idea of making a gentleman out of this boy--one of the dregs of our civilisation--is an impossibility?"

"Nothing of the sort, sir," cried the doctor angrily. "I never felt more certain of the correctness of my ideas."

"Tut--tut--tut--tut!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sir James. "Really, Grayson, this is too much."

"Too much, sir? Nothing of the kind. A boyish escapade. Nothing more."

"Well!" said Sir James drily, "when such cases as this are brought before us at the bench, we are in the habit of calling them thefts."

"Theft: pooh! No, no!" cried the doctor stubbornly. "A boyish prank.

He would have sent the boat back."

"Would he?" said Sir James drily. "I suppose you think his companion would have done the same?"

"I have nothing to do with the other boy," said the doctor shortly. "It was a most unfortunate thing that Dexter should have made his acquaintance."

"Birds of a feather flock together, my dear Grayson," said Sir James.

"Nothing of the kind, sir. It was my fault," cried the doctor. "I neglected to let the boy have suitable companions of his own age; and the consequence was that he listened to this young scoundrel, and allowed himself to be led away."

"Do I understand aright, from your defence of the boy, that you mean to forgive him and take him back!"

"Certainly!" said the doctor.

"Grayson, you amaze me! But if I prove to you that you are utterly wrong, and that the young dog is an arrant thief, what then?"

"Then," said the doctor, "I'm afraid I should have to--No, I wouldn't.

I would try and reform him."

"Well," said Sir James, "if you choose to be so ultra lenient, Grayson, you must; but I feel that I have a duty to do, and as soon as we have had our wine I propose that we have the prisoners here, and listen to what they have to say."

"Prisoners?"

"Yes. What else would you call them?"

Before the doctor could stand up afresh in Dexter's defence a waiter entered the room.

"Beg pardon, sir, but your groom says would you be good enough to step upstairs?"

"Bless my heart!" cried the doctor. "Is it a relapse?"

He hurried up to the room where Dexter had been sleeping, to find that, instead of being in bed, he was fully dressed, and lying on the floor, with Peter the groom holding him down.

"Why, what's the matter!" cried the doctor, as he entered the room hastily, followed by Sir James.

"Matter, sir?" said Peter, "matter enough. If I hadn't held him down like this here I believe he'd 'a' been out o' that window."

"Why, Dexter!" cried the doctor.

The boy struggled feebly, and then, seeing the futility of his efforts, he lay still and closed his eyes.