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Updated: May 23, 2025
'The kingdom of God on earth, sir, as well as in heaven. Come it must, sir, and come it will some day. Lancelot shook his head. Tregarva lifted up his eyes and said, 'Are we not taught to pray for the coming of His kingdom, sir? And do you fancy that He who gave the lesson would have set all mankind to pray for what He never meant should come to pass? Lancelot was silent.
Tregarva watched a moment, and then ran up to the spot, and throwing himself on his face on the edge, leant over, grappled something and was instantly, to Lancelot's astonishment, grappled in his turn by a rough, lank, white dog, whose teeth, however, could not get through the velveteen sleeve. 'I'll give in, keeper! I'll give in. Doan't ye harm the dog! he's deaf as a post, you knows.
'How does this sort of work suit you, Tregarva, for I don't like it at all! The fighting's all very well, but it's a poor cause. 'Oh, sir, I have no mercy on these Londoners.
Tregarva answered by the first and last oath Lancelot ever heard from him, and turning to him, as the rascal sneaked off, 'That's a poaching crimp from London, sir; tempting these poor boys to sin, and deceit, and drunkenness, and theft, and the hulks. 'I fancy I saw him somewhere the night of our row you understand? 'So do I, sir, but there's no use talking of it.
If we can't conceive what God has prepared for those that we know loved Him, how much less can we for them of whom we don't know whether they loved Him or not? 'Well, thought Lancelot to himself, 'I did not do so very wrong in trusting your intellect to cut through a sophism. 'But what do you believe, Tregarva?
'Why surely, Tregarva, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of clergymen and landlords working heart and soul at this moment, to better the condition of the labouring classes! 'Ay, sir, they see the evils, and yet they don't see them. They do not see what is the matter with the poor man; and the proof of it is, sir, that the poor have no confidence in them.
'And you shall make me the same quantity, said the colonel. 'You can make salmon-flies? 'I made a lot by pattern for an Irish gent, sir. 'Well, then, we'll send you some Norway patterns, and some golden pheasant and parrot feathers. We're going to Norway this summer, you know, Lancelot Tregarva looked up with a quaint, solemn hesitation.
How can you depend on fellows who speak evil of their betters? But all the servants are ready to swear it's your handwriting. 'Beg your pardon, sir, interposed the old butler, 'we didn't quite say that; but we'll all swear it isn't ours. 'The paper is mine, said Tregarva. 'Confound your coolness!
It is right to know what one's own flesh and blood are doing. 'Hark to that song, sir! that's an old one. I didn't think they'd get on to singing that. The Blackbird was again on the table, but seemed this time disinclined to exhibit. 'Out wi' un, boy; it wain't burn thy mouth! 'I be afeard. 'O' who? 'Keeper there. He pointed to Tregarva; there was a fierce growl round the room.
Argemone, whose reverence for the formalities and the respectabilities of society, never very great, had, of late, utterly vanished before Lancelot's bad counsel, could think of it only as a work of art, and conceived the most romantic longing to raise Tregarva into some station where his talents might have free play.
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