that young man had small expectation of succeeding to this rich inheritance. The battle of Malplaquet and a smallpox epidemic had then successively swept from his path an uncle and two cousins; and at the age of twenty-two he found himself possessed of 80 much wealth and authority as might have turned a wiser head than his. The Lord of the Manor of Shayle, in addition to a rent roll that would have supported an earldom, was virtual owner of a flourishing seaport, of which the dues and tolls and semi-feudal privileges, relics of the Middle Ages, raised him to a kind of local Sovereignty. Within his sphere of influence, provided he did nothing outrageous, he could rule almost independent of St James's and Whitehall. His nod could direct the administration of justice and the incidence of taxation. The ViceAdmiral, who in theory exercised a shadowy control over all the ports in his county, was very much of a shadow in Shayle, and the Lord Lieutenant was a shadow of a shade. The town, indeed, had always borne a reputation for turbulence. It had been brought to heel by the Lord Protector Cromwell; but the writs of successive kings, during the mutable half-century which followed the Protectorate, had run very haltingly there, unless backed by a warship or a company of foot; and those of an interloping and unpopular German, whose ten ure of the throne was far from secure, might well need for their enforcement a fleet or a regiment. At this period the townsfolk, whose livelihood depended upon seaborne trade, licit and illicit, and who were cut off from the capital by a hundred miles of abominable roads, took the colour of their politics rather from Paris than from London. They would, no doubt, enlist heartily for a war against the French; but when there was no war, they engaged with equal zest in smuggling and Jacobite plots. Since such a little commonwealth requires a leader, it was natural for the Lords of the Manor to supply the want. For several generations the influence of the Cressey family had been increasing; politic marriages and timely apostasies brought them wealth and local interest, until now, in effect, the powers and responsibilities of the ruler of Shayle formed a very heady draught for their latest inheritor. Indeed, times and Mr Jack Cressey himself being what they were, his career, from the moment of his sudden elevation, had been watched with some concern by quite exalted quarters-a concern which, at the time of his friend's visit, was become acute, as all in the town knew or suspected. There were particular reasons that day why callers at the Manor House should be scrutinised with care. It must have been plain, however, even to a distrustful porter, that the strange gentleman in blue who now grinned affably at him through the iron gates was animated only by the most amicable and harmless sentiments. Yet the porter seemed at first disinclined to admit Captain le Chemineau. He glanced churlishly at that young exquisite and his wooden-faced attendant, and from them to a group of townsmen who, from across the road, watched curiously the finish of this pilgrimage. He shook his head and grumbled. And then the Captain's engaging manner underwent a sudden and surprising change. His languid pose stiffened; his voice became a rasping bark, the genuine bark of the quarter-deck; and the porter, confused and abashed, swung open the gates. had his orders, but he felt that they could hardly apply to this authoritative personage. Leaving his coxswain on guard over the discomfited menial, le Chemineau resumed his air of boredom, and lounged away up the drive under the vault of leaves. He Within two hundred yards the trees ended, and beyond a semicircle of turf the eye swept over acres of formal gardens that rose in immense wide terraces after the Italian style. Low balustrades of white stone ran athwart the view; shallow steps led up from terrace to terrace; marble nymphs, flashing like ivory and gold in the setting sun, hung poised amid pools and fountains and prim hedges of dark yew. Be hind all, on the summit of the rise, a huge Palladian building stretched like a cliff pierced with the eyes of Argus. Even Captain le Chemineau paused in astonishment before this colossus, glittering in the evening light and spreading its granite wings over the hillside. To call such a pile a manor house verged on the irreverent ; nor could he picture happy-golucky Jack Cressey among its countless saloons and corridors. "Poor Jack!" said he, and sighed. But immediately he stepped forward again and mended his pace, for his eye had caught a spot of colour that moved in the gardensthe figure of a girl in red, a small solitary creature, almost lost in that ornate and inhuman desert. She plainly observed him at the the same moment. She seemed to hesitate, cast a glance behind her at the house, and then came slowly down a flight of steps to meet him. A couple of spaniels ran before her, and yelped bravely at the stranger. Oh, as for that," said he, "beauty unadorned is very well, but when you are an ugly leather-faced fellow a few frills help to pass it off. And talking of magnificence, child, faith! you live in it!" This was mere parade, to cloak an awkward moment, for if four years had passed since they last met, they had known each other from the days of childhood. Le Chemineau, indeed, promptly shed his airs and graces, and grinned broadly. "It used to be Charles and terraces and marble. Ann Ann," said he. “Ah, that was long ago," the girl replied. She stood up very straight before him, a slender lovely creature, darkeyed and pale, her scarlet lips parted as if fluttering to a smile. Her voice was low and sweet, with sudden thrilling cadences, and her air grave for her years. She wore a simple cherry-coloured sacque (it was a year of pinks and reds), and her dark glossy hair was piled high on her small head in the becoming style introduced by the sound common-sense of the late Queen, her namesake. A cluster of ringlets fell upon a neck that was whiter than the marble tritons. He indicated with a gesture the vast expanse of turf and Cressey looked round her with distaste. "Oh, that!" she said, and shrugged contemptuously and rather wearily. Le Chemineau was watching her closely. Poor Ann! he said. She flashed a quick glance at him. "I wonder" she began, and stopped, and flushed again. "What, child?" "I wondered if you would understand - Charles. The Charles I remember always understood. I am pleased Mr le Chemineau is not changed. Yes, I hate all this! I hate it ! She stamped her small foot, and the spaniels growled in unison. Already she had forgotten the embarrassment she betrayed when they met. Her friend was unchanged, and insensibly she slipped into their old confidential ways. No explanations were needed. The years fled back; and again they were on that footing of complete sympathy and comprehension which had seemed merely natural to a girl in her 'teens, but which, in fact, she had hardly hoped would survive growth and a long parting and This was a touch of the old the rough disillusionments of Ann he remembered. life. She had imagined a greatly altered Charles le Chemineau; and behold, beneath his coxcombry and his rather arrogant air of authority, he remained the same. She could not know that many persons, including Mr Hanaper and Solomon Abney, would have been vastly surprised to hear him now. defined by lexicographers as a large array or number of persons, or, for an alternative, an organisation in groups. In that plaguey great palace of yours, Ann, several regiments could be hid. You might even pack a small one into a room. Any room will serve. Do you think I shall explore the place? Faith, no! I never loved work. "And is it poor Jack too?" he asked. The girl merely nodded, as if his instant grasp of all her present troubles was the most natural thing in the world. And then she came back to the present, and remembered, and stared at him with dismay and dawning suspicion. "What do you know of your gate,-I and Barling have Jack?" "Why, for the regiment to be hid, for Mr Hanaper to recover his breath, and for brother Jack himself to stroll out and greet me like a gentleman of leisure." Ann's face was as white as her neck. Her large eyes darkened, and she clenched her hands convulsively. Words came breathlessly from her. "Oh, do you mean?-How can you? What do you mean? What is the regiment? And what is Mr Hanaper to us? " "Or we to Mr Hanaper?" the Captain supplemented. "I wonder. A regiment," he continued, solemnly oracular, "is And as for that black beetle of a Clerk, damme! I gave him a fair start to run and warn you. I protest I took pains to loiter on the way. I and Barling-he is my coxswain, a dumb, faithful kind of fellow, and now waiting at spent near half an hour acquainting ourselves with the High Street of Shayle. We have refreshed our knowledge of architecture, somewhat rusty after six months at sea, and we have exchanged courtesies with Methusalem, whom I mistook for Noah, and who proved in the end to be Solomon. By his own account, he has fought in every sea-fight since Lepanto. ... No, Ann, I cannot reproach myself. Half an hour should have been ample. 'Twas superfluous strategy in Jack to send you forth, like a forlorn hope, to delay me further here." He stood looking down at the girl with a smile that was at once sardonic and melancholy. It seemed to reveal yet a new Charles le Chemineau. Ann, for her part, was speechless. She flushed and paled, and flushed again. On her expressive face fear fled before anger, and anger in turn before fear. Her fingers twisted nervously together, and her foot tapped the ground. She cast a swift glance behind her at the distant house, and then, with a look of appeal, met the grave eyes of her accuser-for so he seemed. And before that candid gaze his own gravity was melted once more into humorous sympathy and affection. I “Tush, child,” said he lightly, "I am not such an ogre. would not fright you for the world. But between us there need be no pretences. And you make a poor conspirator, Ann. After four years, a modicum of maidenly surprise at our meeting would have been in the rôle. And you were not surprised." She gave him a pitiful doubting glance, and he laid a very gentle hand on her shoulder. “We are old friends, Ann, are we not? " She nodded silently. "Men are babies, my dear," said le Chemineau, “as you should know better than I. They will have their toys. Here is a fine toy "-he waved a hand largely over the ornamental landscape. "Why the devil cannot Jack content himself with it? Because he is Jack, you will say. He was always to be led, poor lad. Even I led him, and, Lud! I'm the laziest of men. If I but stirred a finger, he came running like a dog on a string. And one of your busy, mischievous, tinkering fellows, with an axe to grind, might do his "Say, We are old friends, will with Jack-and with all Charles.' "We are old friends, Charles," the repeated, her eyes steadily on his. Le Chemineau offered her his arm. "Let us circumnavigate this fishpond," said he. They began to pace slowly round the marble basin, in which in truth there were no fish. The spaniels followed suspiciously after. "Are you a conspirator, Ann?" the Captain inquired. “Are you a spy, Charles? "I am naught but an old this wealth. I could put a name to one or two such at this moment. Which, to be brief for once, is why I am here." Ann turned troubled eyes to his. "How much do you know? Why are you here?" "How much do you know, Ann" he returned. She hesitated; and then, as if determined to stake all upon her long proved trust in him, "Everything!" she said"everything! And nothing! I have eyes, ears, and even |