"No. But what put the scheme into your head?"

"The fact that, under a like necessity, the same amusing play was
played out here years ago, as I told you, by John Philip--no, I will
not conceal his name, the greatest actor and the truest gentleman our
English stage has ever seen--John Philip Kemble."

And he raised his hat with sincere reverence. We too had heard--at
least John had--of this wonderful man.

I saw the fascination of Mr. Charles's society was strongly upon him.
It was no wonder. More brilliant, more versatile talent I never saw.
He turned "from grave to gay, from lively to severe"--appearing in
all phases like the gentleman, the scholar, and the man of the world.
And neither John nor I had ever met any one of these characters, all
so irresistibly alluring at our age.

I say OUR, because though I followed where he led, I always did it of
my own will likewise.

The afternoon began to wane, while we, with our two companions, yet
sat talking by the brook-side. Mr. Charles had washed his face, and
his travel-sore, blistered feet, and we had induced him, and the man
he called Yates, to share our remnants of bread and cheese.

"Now," he said, starting up, "I am ready to do battle again, even
with the Thane of Fife--who, to-night, is one Johnson, a fellow of
six feet and twelve stone. What is the hour, Mr. Halifax?"