They were soon absorbed in their game, and their talk between whiles went in and out of my head as vaguely as the book itself had done, till something caught my attention.
“I say, Charteris, you know Tom Turton? He was the cleverest fellow at a cannon. It was refreshing only to watch him hold the cue, so long as his hand was steady, and even after he got a little “screwed.” He was a wild one, rather. What has become of him?”
“I cannot say. Doctor Urquhart might, in whose company I last met him.”
“Well, that is a good joke. Doctor Urquhart with Tom Turton. I was nothing to boast of myself before I married; but Tom Turton!'' “They seemed intimate enough; dined, and went to the theatre together and finished the evening--I really forget where. Your friend the doctor made himself uncommonly agreeable.”
“Urquhart and Tom Turton,” Augustus kept repeating, quite unable to get over his surprise at such a juxtaposition; from which I conclude that Mr. Turton, whose name I never heard before, was one of the not too creditable associates of my brother-in-law in his bachelor days. When, some one calling, he went out, Colin took up the theme; being also familiar with this notorious person, it appeared.
“Very odd, Doctor Urquhart's hunting in couples with Tom Turton. However, I hope he may do him good--there was room for it.”
“In Tom, of course; your doctor being one of those china patterns of humanity, in which it is vain to find a flaw, and whose mission it is to go about as patent cementers of all cracked and unworthy vessels.”
“Eh?” said Colin, opening his good, stupid eyes.
“Query--whether your humdrum Scotch doctor is one whit better than his neighbours. (Score that as twenty, Granton). I once heard he has a wife and six children living in the shade, near some cathedral town, Canterbury, or Salisbury.”
“What!” and Colin's eyes almost started out of his head with astonishment.
I laugh now--I could have laughed then, the minute after, to recollect what a “stound” it gave us both, Colin and me, this utterly improbable and ridiculous tale, which Francis so coolly promulgated.
“I don't believe it,” said Colin, doggedly, bless his honest heart! Beg your pardon, Charteris, but there must be some mistake. I don't believe it.”