and how the statue rocks there, how much more pitiably than the common
sons of earth who have the broad common field to fall down on and our
good mother's milk to set them on their legs again.




CHAPTER VIII

CAPTAIN CON AND MRS. ADISTER O'DONNELL

Riding homeward from the hunt at the leisurely trot of men who have
steamed their mounts pretty well, Mr. Adister questioned Patrick
familiarly about his family, and his estate, and his brother's prospects
in the army, and whither he intended first to direct his travels:
questions which Patrick understood to be kindly put for the sake of
promoting conversation with a companion of unripe age by a gentleman who
had wholesomely excited his blood to run. They were answered, except the
last one. Patrick had no immediate destination in view.

'Leave Europe behind you,' said Mr. Adister warming, to advise him, and
checking the trot of his horse. 'Try South America.' The lordly
gentleman plotted out a scheme of colonisation and conquest in that
region with the coolness of a practised freebooter. 'No young man is
worth a job,' he said, 'who does not mean to be a leader, and as leader
to have dominion. Here we are fettered by ancestry and antecedents. Had
I to recommence without those encumbrances, I would try my fortune
yonder. I stood condemned to waste my youth in idle parades, and hunting
the bear and buffalo. The estate you have inherited is not binding on
you. You can realise it, and begin by taking over two or three hundred