At last the chest was packed, and lashed on behind the post-chaise.  A few minutes more, and the old home which knew me would know me no more for many a long day.  Can I describe that parting?  Still, all bore up heroically.  I did my best not to give way, but there was a hot, choking sensation in my throat, as if a Thug from India had got his fatal noose tight round my jugular vein; and a pulling away at the heart, as if the fangs of a stout double tooth were firmly clenched in it, and a strong-fisted dentist was hauling it out.  My father and Jack were going with me to see me on board.  I believe Jack envied me, and wished that he was going too, instead of having to pore over dusty parchments.  My mother folded me in her arms, and kept me there.  That was the worst. Still, I could not bear to break away.