Austin cast an eye at the complacent languor of the wise youth, his
cousin, and the little that he knew of his fellows told him he might talk
forever here, and not be comprehended. The wise youth's two ears were
stuffed with his own wisdom. One evil only Adrian dreaded, it was clear
--the action of the law.

As he was moving away, Adrian called out to him, "Stop, Austin! There!
don't be anxious! You invariably take the glum side. I've done
something. Never mind what. If you go down to Belthorpe, be civil, but
not obsequious. You remember the tactics of Scipio Africanus against the
Punic elephants? Well, don't say a word--in thine ear, coz: I've turned
Master Blaize's elephants. If they charge, 'twill bye a feint, and back
to the destruction of his serried ranks! You understand. Not? Well,
'tis as well. Only, let none say that I sleep. If I must see him to-
night, I go down knowing he has not got us in his power." The wise youth
yawned, and stretched out a hand for any book that might be within his
reach. Austin left him to look about the grounds for Richard.




CHAPTER VII

A little laurel-shaded temple of white marble looked out on the river
from a knoll bordering the Raynham beechwoods, and was dubbed by Adrian
Daphne's Bower. To this spot Richard had retired, and there Austin found
him with his head buried in his hands, a picture of desperation, whose
last shift has been defeated. He allowed Austin to greet him and sit by
him without lifting his head. Perhaps his eyes were not presentable.