It is one thing to desire a conversation to be changed, and another to change it. After some little silence my father said, "And may Iask what name your mother gave you?"
"My name," he answered, laughing, "is George, and I wish it were some other, for it is the first name of that arch-impostor Higgs.
I hate it as I hate the man who owned it."
My father said nothing, but he hid his face in his hands.
"Sir," said the other, "I fear you are in some distress.""You remind me," replied my father, "of a son who was stolen from me when he was a child. I searched for him, during many years, and at last fell in with him by accident, to find him all the heart of father could wish. But alas! he did not take kindly to me as I to him, and after two days he left me; nor shall I ever again see him.""Then, sir, had I not better leave you?"
"No, stay with me till your road takes you elsewhere; for though Icannot see my son, you are so like him that I could almost fancy he is with me. And now--for I shall show no more weakness--you say your mother knew the Sunchild, as I am used to call him. Tell me what kind of a man she found him.""She liked him well enough in spite of his being a little silly.
She does not believe he ever called himself child of the sun. He used to say he had a father in heaven to whom he prayed, and who could hear him; but he said that all of us, my mother as much as he, have this unseen father. My mother does not believe he meant doing us any harm, but only that he wanted to get himself and Mrs.
Nosnibor's younger daughter out of the country. As for there having been anything supernatural about the balloon, she will have none of it; she says that it was some machine which he knew how to make, but which we have lost the art of ******, as we have of many another.
"This is what she says amongst ourselves, but in public she confirms all that the Musical Bank Managers say about him. She is afraid of them. You know, perhaps, that Professor Hanky, whose name I see on your permit, tried to burn her alive?""Thank heaven!" thought my father, "that I am Panky;" but aloud he said, "Oh, horrible! horrible! I cannot believe this even of Hanky.""He denies it, and we say we believe him; he was most kind and attentive to my mother during all the rest of her stay in Bridgeford. He and she parted excellent friends, but I know what she thinks. I shall be sure to see him while he is in Sunch'ston, I shall have to be civil to him but it makes me sick to think of it.""When shall you see him?" said my father, who was alarmed at learning that Hanky and the Ranger were likely to meet. Who could tell but that he might see Panky too?
"I have been away from home a fortnight, and shall not be back till late on Saturday night. I do not suppose I shall see him before Sunday.""That will do," thought my father, who at that moment deemed that nothing would matter to him much when Sunday was over. Then, turning to the Ranger, he said, "I gather, then, that your mother does not think so badly of the Sunchild after all?""She laughs at him sometimes, but if any of us boys and girls say a word against him we get snapped up directly. My mother turns every one round her finger. Her word is law in Sunch'ston; every one obeys her; she has faced more than one mob, and quelled them when my father could not do so.""I can believe all you say of her. What other children has she besides yourself?""We are four sons, of whom the youngest is now fourteen, and three daughters.""May all health and happiness attend her and you, and all of you, henceforth and for ever," and my father involuntarily bared his head as he spoke.
"Sir," said the youth, impressed by the fervency of my father's manner, "I thank you, but you do not talk as Bridgeford Professors generally do, so far as I have seen or heard them. Why do you wish us all well so very heartily? Is it because you think I am like your son, or is there some other reason?""It is not my son alone that you resemble," said my father tremulously, for he knew he was going too far. He carried it off by adding, "You resemble all who love truth and hate lies, as Ido."
"Then, sir," said the youth gravely, "you much belie your reputation. And now I must leave you for another part of the preserves, where I think it likely that last night's poachers may now be, and where I shall pass the night in watching for them. You may want your permit for a few miles further, so I will not take it. Neither need you give it up at Sunch'ston. It is dated, and will be useless after this evening."With this he strode off into the forest, bowing politely but somewhat coldly, and without encouraging my father's half proffered hand.
My father turned sad and unsatisfied away.
"It serves me right," he said to himself; "he ought never to have been my son; and yet, if such men can be brought by hook or by crook into the world, surely the world should not ask questions about the bringing. How cheerless everything looks now that he has left me."
By this time it was three o'clock, and in another few minutes my father came upon the ashes of the fire beside which he and the Professors had supped on the preceding evening. It was only some eighteen hours since they had come upon him, and yet what an age it seemed! It was well the Ranger had left him, for though my father, of course, would have known nothing about either fire or poachers, it might have led to further falsehood, and by this time he had become exhausted--not to say, for the time being, sick of lies altogether.
He trudged slowly on, without meeting a soul, until he came upon some stones that evidently marked the limits of the preserves.
