When he came back, the boy was still at table, and the trumpeter
standing here by the chimney-place with the drum and trumpet in his
hands, hitched together just as they be at this moment.

"'Look at this,' he says to my father, showing him the lock;
'I picked it up off a starving brass-worker in Lisbon, and it is not
one of your common locks that one word of six letters will open at
any time. There's _janius_ in this lock; for you've only to make the
rings spell any six-letter word you please, and snap down the lock
upon that, and never a soul can open it--not the maker, even--until
somebody comes along that knows the word you snapped it on.
Now, Johnny here's goin', and he leaves his drum behind him; for,
though he can make pretty music on it, the parchment sags in wet
weather, by reason of the sea-water getting at it; an' if he carries
it to Plymouth, they'll only condemn it and give him another.
And, as for me, I shan't have the heart to put lip to the trumpet any
more when Johnny's gone. So we've chosen a word together, and locked
'em together upon that; and, by your leave, I'll hang 'em here
together on the hook over your fireplace. Maybe Johnny'll come back;
maybe not. Maybe, if he comes, I'll be dead an' gone, an' he'll take
'em apart an' try their music for old sake's sake. But if he never
comes, nobody can separate 'em; for nobody beside knows the word.
And if you marry and have sons, you can tell 'em that here are tied
together the souls of Johnny Christian, drummer of the Marines, and
William George Tallifer, once trumpeter of the Queen's Own Hussars.
Amen.'

"With that he hung the two instruments 'pon the hook there; and the
boy stood up and thanked my father and shook hands; and the pair went
forth of the door, towards Helston.