"Why, Berkeley!" he exclaimed, "is it indeed thou? We have been
wondering what had become of you."
"It _is_ a long time since I looked you up," I admitted.
He scrutinised me attentively by the light of the entry lamp, and then
remarked: "Fetter Lane doesn't seem to be agreeing with you very well,
my son. You are looking quite thin and peaky."
"Well, I've nearly done with it. Barnard will be back in about ten days.
His ship is putting in at Madeira to coal and take in some cargo, and
then he is coming home. Where are you going with those chairs?"
"I am going to sit down at the end of the Walk by the garden railings.
It's cooler there than indoors. If you will wait a moment I will fetch
another chair for Jervis, though he won't be back for a little while."
He ran up the stairs, and presently returned with a third chair, and we
carried our impedimenta down to the quiet corner at the bottom of the
Walk.
"So your term of servitude is coming to an end," said he when we had
placed the chairs and hung the lantern on the railings.
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