The  tears  came  into  John  Prescott's  eyes,  and  into  his
mind  came  many  images  —  a  little,  black-haired,  stubborn
boy  was  one  of  them,  and  a  lady  with  dark  ringlets  and  laugh-
ing eyes,  and  a  man,  blue-eyed  and  brown-haired,  straight  as
an  arrow  and  sure  as  an  archer  that  the  target  he  aimed  at
was  the  only  right  one.  Yes,  he,  John  Prescott,  had  taught
that  little  black-haired  boy  to  keep  his  promises ;  and  the
lady  with  ringlets  had  helped  him.  John  Prescott  had  been
effectually  silenced.  But  there  was  one  thing  more  that  he
must  ask  his  son  before  he  went  his  way  down  the  mountain,
and  presently  he  summoned  his  courage  to  ask  it.
"Thor,"  he  said,  "what  are  you  going  to  do  about  the
trip?"

"Go  on  it,  of  course,"  said  Thorley,  promptly,  "and  you
will  say  nothing  to  any  one  about  my  hesitation,  not  to  any
one,  Father,  please."


202  THE   GOODLY   FELLOWSHIP

Mr.  Prescott  looked  dreadfully  hurt;  but  he  answered
with  great  dignity,  "I  should  not  think  of  mentioning  it,
my  son."

Thorley  went  ruthlessly  on.     "If  Mrs.  Prescott  —

John  Prescott  held  up  his  hand.  "  That  will  do,  Thorley, ' '
he  said,  and  Thorley  became  in  an  instant  the  little  black-
haired  boy,  stubborn,  but  amenable  to  discipline.  It  was
many  a  long  day  since  he  had  heard  such  a  tone  in  his  father's
voice.
