"Would you see him, sir?"

"No, no; that would kill me,--and then what would become of him?"

"He has promised me an interview, and in that interview I feel assured
he will obey your wishes, whatever they are." Roland made no answer.

"Lord Castleton has arranged all, so that his name and madness (thus let
us call it) will never be known."

"Pride, pride, pride still!" murmured the old soldier. "The name, the
name,--well, that is much; but the living soul!--I wish Austin were
here."

"I have sent for him, sir."

Roland pressed my hand, and was again silent. Then he began to mutter,
as I thought, incoherently about the Peninsula and obeying orders; and
how some officer woke Lord Wellington at night and said that something
or other (I could not catch what,--the phrase was technical and
military) was impossible; and how Lord Wellington asked, "Where's the
order-book?" and looking into the order-book, said, "Not at all
impossible, for it is in the order-book;" and so Lord Wellington turned
round and went to sleep again. Then suddenly Roland half rose, and
said, in a voice clear and firm, "But Lord Wellington, though a great
captain, was a fallible man, sir, and the order-book was his own mortal
handiwork. Get me the Bible!"

Oh, Roland, Roland! and I had feared that thy mind was wandering!