at once, shook hands with Robert, released his hand, seized and shook it
a second and a third time with more energy than ever. Mr. McLean, an
undemonstrative man, had never been known to do such a thing before, and
he was never known to do it again. Master Jacobus regarded him with
staring eyes.

"Alexander iss stirred! He iss stirred mightily to make such a display
of emotion," he said under his breath.

"Robert hass been away on an island all by himself, eight or nine months
or more," he added, aloud.

"And of course," said Master McLean, who had recovered his usual calm,
"he forgot all his classical learning while he was there. I do not know
where his island is, but desert islands are not conducive to a noble
education."

"On the contrary, sir," said Robert, "I learned more about good
literature when I was there than I ever did anywhere else, save when I
sat under you."

"'Tis clearly impossible. In such a place you could make no advancement
in learning save by communing with yourself."

"Nevertheless, sir, happy chance gave me a supply of splendid books. I
had Shakespeare, Marlowe, Beaumont and Fletcher, translations of Homer
and of other great Greeks and Latins."

Mr. McLean's frosty eyes beamed.