again. There are some lines in the Master that life alone can translate.
_Sunt lachrymae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt._

After a turn or two in silence, Sir James broke off his pacing and came
to me.

"Sir," he said, "you will know enough to excuse my inattention to a
guest. I must make it up if I can. Give me the lantern and wait for us
here, Inskip. Come with me, sir, and stable your horse. Gad so, sir,"
holding up the lantern, "you ride the noblest animal I have ever seen.
Woa, ho, my beauty! All my men are abed, so we must do it ourselves, but,
by Heaven, it will be a pleasure, Master--what may I call you, sir?"

"Just the plain name of my fathers--Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards."

"A good strong name, sir, though my fathers liked it not."

"And you, Sir James?"

"Frankly, it is a name which to me has ceased to be a symbol. A good
fellow can call himself 'Oliver' without setting my teeth on edge. I had a
grand foxhound once, and called him 'Noll,' just because he was grand. My
dear old father consulted a London doctor as to the state of my mind. It
made him anxious, you see! The great man said, gruffly enough, that I was
as sane as a jackdaw. Thereupon my dear dad, one of the best men that ever
lived, had the dog shot!"

He laughed, reminiscently rather than merrily, and was to my mind bent on
getting a grip on himself again. We made Sultan comfortable for the night,
and then Sir James courteously said it was high time to be attending to