Disgust sprang suddenly into the captain's eyes, and into the lines about his mouth. "A poet? Yes, I could have believed even _that_ of him." The captain chuckled a little grimly at his own humour.
David Willis laughed, and brought the book over toward the window, turning the leaves slowly and looking into it. "Yes," he said, "he wrote these when he was quite a young man; they were published by subscription. He was a mere youth at the time, and he gave this copy to his sister, my wife. It's very queer reading, very mad reading some of it. He's a queer fellow, and a mad fellow." David Willis laughed good-humouredly and closed the book and carried it back to the bureau.
"Yes, he's mad enough," said the captain shortly. "I know the sort of man--met dozens of his kidney. They flash through the world, spreading their feathers in the sun and making such a flutter that no one sees what shame and misery they leave in their track; or, if any one does see it, it's all excused with the phrase, 'Oh, he couldn't help it--he was such a good fellow.' Bah!" The captain was quite indignant, and the arm that held Comethup shook a little.
"You're a little hard on our friend," said David, easily. "He's really rather a clever sort of fellow; there are lots of things he does quite well, only not quite well enough to make anything of them. He paints a little, writes a little, plays and sings remarkably well. But he never gives his mind to anything. I remember he said to me once: 'It's not my fault; they shouldn't have given me such a name. Think of it! Bob! What can a fellow do with such a name as that, except go to the devil with it? And I've tried consistently to go to the devil with it.' And I really believe he has."
"Yes, I dare say he has," replied the captain, a little wearily. "And there you have the whole man in a nutshell."
Comethup was destined very soon to see more of that fascinating boy, and of his father. But a few days had gone by when the shadow of Robert Carlaw loomed large in the open doorway of the cottage, and he came in, followed by Brian. He seemed to take up an immense amount of room, and to block out the light a great deal, in whatever part of the room he stood. It was immediately after breakfast--David Willis always breakfasted late, a habit he had acquired when living in town--and David was smoking a pipe before setting about those small duties which occupied his day. David Willis had on a very shabby coat and slippers on his feet; Robert Carlaw's coat was of the finest, his boots shone magnificently, and he smoked a cigar. He announced airily that he had come to carry off his little friend with the extraordinary name; the name, he declared, was too much to pronounce in such weather as that, but he didn't love him any the less on account of it, and meant to carry him off, for the day at least. So Comethup was duly made ready and went away with a fluttering heart on the other side of Uncle Bob, peeping round his portly person, as he trotted along, to catch a glimpse of that fascinating boy who walked on the farther side of him.