'"Oil, our fathers, in the churchyard.
She is older than ye.
And our graves will be the greener,"
Said The Men of the Sea.'
'What is there to hinder?' said Torpenhow, in the long hush that followed the song.
'You said a little time since that you wouldn't come for a walk round the world, Torp.'
'That was months ago, and I only objected to your making money for travelling expenses. You've shot your bolt here and it has gone home. Go away and do some work, and see some things.'
'Get some of the fat off you; you're disgracefully out of condition,' said the Nilghai, making a plunge from the chair and grasping a handful of Dick generally over the right ribs. 'Soft as putty—pure tallow born of over-feeding. Train it off, Dickie.'
'We're all equally gross, Nilghai. Next time you have to take the field you'll sit down, wink your eyes, gasp, and die in a fit.'
'Never mind. You go away on a ship. Go to Lima again, or to Brazil. There's always trouble in South America.'
'Do you suppose I want to be told where to go? Great Heavens, the only difficulty is to know where I'm to stop. But I shall stay here, as I told you before.'
