"I've got you a grand place, my lad," he said. "It is in the office of
Mr. Allan, one of the finest shipping-merchants in London. 'Tis a very
great favour, and will be the making of you, if you prove to be the
lad I take you to be. You are now fifteen, and it is time you went
from home to try your fortune; in fact, you'll be all the better away
from here--for certain reasons I need not go into. You are a lucky
lad, George,--I wish I had had half your chance when I was in my
teens."

The son knew very well from his father's tone and manner that it was
useless to argue the matter with him. To London he would have to go,
and he prepared to face the unwelcome prospect like a man.

Yet, to add to his chagrin and disappointment, there came to him just
at that time the news that young Blackett was proposing to enter the
army as soon as he was old enough. The Squire was anxious that his son
should have a commission, and as he was wealthy, and his party was now
decidedly winning in the political race, there would not only be no
difficulties in Matthew's way, but a fine prospect of advancement for
the youth.

"Who would have thought that that lanky weakling would choose a
soldier's trade!" George Fairburn said to himself. "I had quite
expected him to go to Oxford and become either a barrister or a
bishop. He's a lucky fellow! And I--I am--well, never mind; it's silly
to go on in this way. I don't like Blackett, but I am bound to confess
he's got good fighting stuff in him."

When William III was on his deathbed he is reported to have said, "I