tongue, and each time tried to speak in vain.

'Come in,' he said at last, in a harsh and rasping voice. And they all moved automatically into the parlour, he leading them.

They grouped there at the end of the centre table, and the instinct of the trembling housewife so far awoke within her that she closed the door, lest the servants and hangers-on about the house should hear what she knew was coming.

James Jervoyce, a mean-statured man, of meaner feature, with his hair plastered about his forehead by the rain, and the water dripping from his cape, stood as the centre of all eyes. His face was of the hue of grey paper, and he gasped for breath, and trembled.

'Pol,' said John Jervase, waving his right hand blindly, 'give me—give me the decanter and a tumbler.'

Both lay near at hand, and Jervase, having primed himself with a great gulp of neat brandy, spoke again.

'Now, James,' he asked, 'what's the matter? What do you mean by coming here to scare a peaceful house in this wild fashion?'

The accent was the accent of his youth, the broadest speech of the Castle Barfield region. James seemed incapable of answer, and his cousin, laying a hand anew upon the decanter, filled the glass almost to the brim, and held it out to him.

'Get a heart into you,' he said gruffly, 'and speak out!'

The timider of the guilty pair drank unwarily, not knowing what was offered to him, and fell into a fit of coughing. The rest awaited him in a tense expectation. At last he controlled himself, and spoke, sipping from time to time to moisten his dry lips.

'You know,' he said, glancing at the floor and at the faces round him alternately, 'you know that when old General Airey died, that young cub De Blacquaire came into the Droitwich property.'

'Well,' said John Jervase, 'we know that. Go on. What about it?'

'You know,' said James, 'that his property and ours neighboured each other. The young skunk has trumped up a charge against us of having tapped his brine, and having lived on the property of his estate for twenty years past.'

'Well,' said—John Jervase, 'that's a pretty cool piece of impudence, to be sure! But what is there to make a howl about?'

'He has got some suborned evidence from somewhere,' James answered, 'some scoundrels who pretend that they were employed by you and me to do the work.'

'Well,' said John once more, 'what is there in that to make a howl about? Is there no law in England—is there no way of making a fool and a knave smart for it, if they see fit to assail the reputation of two honest men like you and me, James? 'His voice began to take something of its old ring. 'I wonder at you—tearin' up like a madman at this time o' night, and in this weather, with a yam like that. Why, man, what's come to you? Missus,' he turned towards his wife, 'tell one of the wenches to get James a change, and when he's done that well sit down in quiet, and talk this matter over.'

'De Blacquaire!' he went on, as his wife left the room to obey his order. 'De Blacquaire, indeed! Who's De Blacquaire?

It'll go pretty hard with you and me, James, if we can't put down a pound between us where he can put down twenty shillings. And libel's libel in this country, James, and them as chooses to talk it can be made to pay for it And any man as assaults the honest fame of Jack Jervase has got Jack Jervase to tackle, my lad. I've fowt the Queen's enemies, and I've fowt my own, and I'll stand fightin' till I die.'

'My dear Jervase,' said the General. 'My dear Mr. James! I need not tell you, I am sure, how entirely certain I am that a very grievous error has been made in this matter. But I can't understand—I really cannot understand—why an absurd charge of that sort should be at all disturbing to you.' He turned upon Mr. James with an air of mild remonstrance, and laid a friendly hand upon his shoulder. 'Really, really, really,' he said, 'I thought you had more courage.'

Mr. James was for the moment entirely deprived of that most useful quality. What with the chill which was coming upon him after a hasty and dangerous ride in that pelting rain and bitter wind through which he had travelled, and what with the perturbation of his spirit, he trembled like a shaken jelly, and his eyes were full of terror. John Jervase, obviously with the intent to make a diversion, turned upon him with a question.

'Didn't you come on horseback? 'he asked. His cousin stared at him with an idiotic want of apprehension of the question's meaning. 'Didn't you come on horseback?' Jervase asked more loudly than before.

'I—I suppose so,' stammered James.

'Suppose so! 'his cousin snarled at him, laying an unfriendly hand upon him and jolting him roughly to and fro. 'You came on a horse, didn't you? And if you didn't, how the devil did you get here?'

'Yes, yes, John,' the trembling rascal answered. 'I came on horseback, to be sure—of course I came on horseback. How else,' he asked feebly, 'could I have got here on a night like this?'

'Then where's the horse? 'Jervase demanded.

'I don't know,' said James. 'He has been here before, he knows his way to the stables. I—I heard him clattering off in that direction, I am almost sure.' He made a pitiable attempt to collect himself, and prattled on. 'Oh, yes, I am quite sure now—he clattered off towards the stables—I remember—he has been here before, and he would know his way. He's in the grounds in any case, for I know that the gate closed behind him.'

'Why didn't you stop for half a minute, anyhow? 'asked Jervase, who was glad of a chance to recover a seeming of composure for himself under the shelter of a pretended anger. 'Why didn't you give somebody the word in place of leaving a valuable beast like that wandering about in a tempest?

'I don't know,' James answered, as feebly as ever. 'I was in a hurry to get in.'

At this his cousin's temper broke altogether, or he was willing to relieve the tension of his own mind by allowing it to seem as if it did so.

'Of all the funking, skunking, silly cowardly devils——'

The General took him by the arm with a commanding grip.

'You forget, my good Jervase, you forget—my daughter is present, and she is not accustomed to have her ears assailed by that sort of language.'

'I beg your pardon,' said Jervase, suddenly cooling down. 'I beg ten thousand pardons—I beg Miss Irene's pardon most of all. I forgot myself, and I apologise.'

He bowed to the girl and fell to pacing up and down the room, casting glances of wrath at the messenger of ill news.

The General, fearing a new outburst, turned to the old lady with his courtliest air.

'We are all a little agitated for the moment by the strange tidings Mr. Jervoyce has brought us, and they involve some matters of business about which it will be better for us to hold a consultation between ourselves. Will you be so very kind as to take Irene elsewhere for a little while? 'His voice and manner were perfectly composed, and his face lit up with one of his rare sweet smiles as he added: 'I do not believe, my dear Mrs. Jervase, that I have ever, in the whole course of my three-score years, so far transgressed as to drive a lady from her own parlour, until now.'

'We will go,' said Mrs. Jervase, and the General stepping to the door threw it open, and stood for his hostess and his daughter to go by. Irene looked first at young Polson Jervase with a glance of fear and inquiry, and the young fellow responded to it only by a curt nod of the head, as much as to say 'Go! 'She looked into her father's face as she passed through the doorway, and the old man smiled down on her reassuringly.

'This will all be over in a few minutes, dear,' he said, 'and then I will send for you.' He closed the door gently, and tinned to face the trio in the room.

'I have apologised to the ladies,' said Jervase, 'already; but I owe an apology to you, General. I'm very sorry that my temper carried me back to my old seafaring manners; but,'