"My son--for considering the difference in our ages I may be allowed to
call you so--we at Bridgeford are much like you at Sunch'ston; we dare
not always say what we think. Nor would it be wise to do so, when we
should not be listened to. This fire must burn itself out, for it has
got such hold that nothing can either stay or turn it. Even though Higgs
himself were to return and tell it from the house-tops that he was a
mortal--ay, and a very common one--he would be killed, but not believed."

"Let him come; let him show himself, speak out and die, if the people
choose to kill him. In that case I would forgive him, accept him for my
father, as silly people sometimes say he is, and honour him to my dying
day."

"Would that be a bargain?" said my father, smiling in spite of emotion so
strong that he could hardly bring the words out of his mouth.

"Yes, it would," said the youth doggedly.

"Then let me shake hands with you on his behalf, and let us change the
conversation."

He took my father's hand, doubtfully and somewhat disdainfully, but he
did not refuse it.




CHAPTER VI: FURTHER CONVERSATION BETWEEN FATHER AND SON--THE PROFESSORS'
HOARD