cannot possibly dispense with is a Nuisance, and the Nuisance is not
merely a local Nuisance, because it is a general Nuisance to know that
there _can be_ such a Nuisance left in civilisation so very long after
its time."

"Will you go away? I have a gun in here," said the Hermit.

"Pooh!"

"I _have_!"

"Now, I put it to you. Did I say you had not? And as to going away,
didn't I say I am not going away? You have made me forget where I was. I
now remember that I was remarking on your conduct being a Nuisance.
Moreover, it is in the last and lowest degree inconsequent foolishness
and weakness."

"Weakness?" echoed the Hermit.

"Weakness," said Mr. Traveller, with his former comfortably settled final
air.

"I weak, you fool?" cried the Hermit, "I, who have held to my purpose,
and my diet, and my only bed there, all these years?"

"The more the years, the weaker you," returned Mr. Traveller. "Though
the years are not so many as folks say, and as you willingly take credit
for. The crust upon your face is thick and dark, Mr. Mopes, but I can
see enough of you through it, to see that you are still a young man."