Marion Dearsley was watched with a
reverence which, never became sheepish, and Ferrier at last said to
himself, "One might do anything with these men! The noblest raw material
in the world."
"Good-night; good-night. God bless you." One weird sound after another
came from boats that swam in the quivering moonbeams. Then came the
silence, broken only by the multitudinous whistling of the gaffs, and
the gentle moan of the timbers.
The nightly talk came off as usual; and also as usual the great
mathematician was forced to take the leading part, while Blair quizzed,
and the ladies, after the fashion of their sex, stimulated the men to
range from topic to topic. Fullerton was watching Ferrier, just as I
have seen a skilful professor of chemistry watching a tube for the first
appearance of the precipitate. This quiet thinker knew men, and he knew
how to use them; moreover, he thought he saw in Ferrier a born king, and
he strove to attract him just as he had striven to fascinate Miss
Dearsley. It was for the cause.
"What do you think of our work so far, Ferrier?"
"Good. But I want more."
Then, of course, Blair must needs have one of those wonderful jokes of
his. "Ha! I want more! A sort of scientific Oliver. I want more! What a
Bashaw! And what does his highness of many tails want?"
"Mr. Ferrier mustn't be too exorbitant. Science wears the seven-league
boots, but we have to be content with modest lace-ups and Balmorals,"
quietly observed Mrs.
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