said. And we walked homeward together.

CHAPTER III

My good comrade, Dick Portington, was the first of our guests to arrive at Temple on the 28th of May, and he brought me as birthday gift a gun such as I had not before seen, the cock containing a flint, which, as it fell, struck sparks from the cover of the pan, and at the same moment forced back the cover so that the sparks flew on the priming. The action was far quicker than that of the matchlock, and much surer than the wheel-lock guns which I had hitherto handled, and I had great pleasure in it, and a brace of pistols made after the same pattern.

"'Tis the rarest present, Dick," I said, "but you shame me. Another gift! And I have never given you anything."

"Say nothing of that, man," answered he. "I am older than thou, and the squire is free with his money. I have what I want for the asking. Besides, to-day you come to riches, and may spend and give as you like."

Dick's allusion was to an understanding between my father and me, that when I came of age certain properties in Beltoft, which were part of my mother's dower, should be made over to me. I had freely spoken of this to my friend, and in truth, looked forward eagerly to the enjoyment of means of my own, for my father had allowed me less money than men of his rank were accustomed to allow their sons. He was no niggard in providing me things suitable to our station, but I had never much money in my purse, so that I held aloof from companionship with other young fellows except Dick, who knew my plight, and often listened to my talk of the brave doings which were to follow my possession of an estate of some ninety pounds a year. To-day we had scant opportunity for conversation, as our humbler neighbours came early, with full intent to enjoy merry pastimes and good cheer; nor were the gentry and farmers late, since all were keenly expectant of news and advice from their "Solicitor." Ladies and gentlemen on horseback, a few ladies who preferred dignity in a jolting coach to ease in the saddle, farmers' wives on pillion behind their husbands, labourers, marshmen, and fowlers, with their women-folk, afoot, made the spacious park a lively scene. Our stables were soon filled, and many horses had to be tethered in the paddock. By good luck, the day was cloudless, and the wind soft, almost still.

Our guests betook them to various sports until dinner-time. The great bowling-green was crowded with jostling, laughing bowlers; the archery ground afforded amusement to many competitors, for our Islonians are skilful in the use of the long-bow and cross-bow; parties were gathered for cricket, balloon, quoits, nine-pins, and leaping the bar. Some of the lads and lasses began at once to trip it to fiddle and pipe and tabour. Many of the older folk were content to stand or sit and watch a set of morris dancers, or filled the booth where a company of strolling players performed a blood-curdling tragedy and a side-splitting farce well within the hour. A group surrounded Bet Boswell, a gypsy lass, whom our Beltonians knew from the long stay which her tribe had made with us, and more than one young farmer had fallen over head and ears in love with her. She was a tall, lithe creature, boldly handsome, with that roguish look in her dark eyes which passes away with the coming of Love. To-day she told fortunes by the palm and with the crystal. As Dick and I joined the group, the moonstruck gaping of some of the rustics proved that Bet was doing her business skilfully.

"Here be young squire," said one. "Tell him his fortune."

The rest echoed the fellow, and falling in with their humour, I said—

"Come then, Bess. Let me hear my fate;" offering her sixpence.

"Not now," she answered, refusing the coin with a wave of her hand. "Your destiny trembles in the balance to-day."

"How so, oracular sybil?" I asked, laughing, but a little impressed by the gravity of her look and tone.

"Before you sleep, you will lose a fortune, and be offered another," she said.

"How I can lose what I have not, I do not understand," I replied; "but of a certainty I shall take one, if it be offered me."

"If you are wise, you will," said Bess, and turned from me as having no more to say.

At the instant, the ringing of a bell and blowing of a horn called those of our guests to dinner who were to take their repast under tents and awnings in the park, and I joined my father to make the round of the tables, where huge joints of beef and mutton, piles of Trent salmon and larded capons, and the like substantial viands, were rapidly disappearing, washed down with copious draughts of strong October, to which were added for the yeomen farmers brandy, wine, mead, and aqua vitæ.

When we had seen that all were faring merrily, and had nodded and smiled acknowledgment of the cheers for "the Solicitor," and for "the heir of Temple Belwood," we joined the company assembling in the hall, and thence with proper ceremony to the ancient dining-room. There the talk ran on Vermuijden and his doings much more than on the rightful hero of the day, and voices rose and tongues wagged faster and faster as the men's glasses were replenished with wine of Burgundy, or Bourdeaux, or Champaign, and the women sipped hock and Bacharach and sherris.

My left-hand neighbour at table was Mistress Emma Ryther, a buxom girl, with great ox-eyes that never changed. She was accounted one of the beauties of the Isle, and indeed as a piece of flesh and blood she was pretty enough. I scarcely knew whether I liked or misliked her, for her manner to me seemed to betoken that she expected me to whistle, and was ready to come. Perhaps there would have been no more than a toss-up between liking and misliking, since I had that conceit in my head, if I had never seen the divine beauty which shines from the soul. Having seen that, Mistress Ryther was to me but a well-painted figure in porcelain. While she babbled nothings to me, I wondered that I could ever have thought otherwise of her than I did to-day. Some perception of my state of mind she showed by saying tartly: "Your head is as full of the Dutch as everybody's."

When dessert was spread, to my astonishment, Mr. Ryther rose to propose the toast of the day. He was not an old friend, or a person of consideration. Some dozen years ago he had been so lucky as to inherit unexpected wealth, and ever since he had devoted himself to increasing his riches, chiefly by lending money on mortgage, and taking every legal advantage of the necessitous borrower. He was a biggish fellow, with a loud voice and pompous manner, and a great hooked nose, which my fingers itched to pull for his impudence. My impatience grew as he went on to speak, lauding my father's public spirit and generosity, taking a tone as if he were the equal of Thomas Vavasour. When he began to talk of me my blood boiled, for he enumerated my good points as though I had been a horse, and he had the selling of me. He wound up by saying that he looked forward to the festivities to come, when the heir of Temple Belwood should bring a beautiful and well-dowered bride to this ancient house. I could have hurled a decanter at the greasy forehead, which he wiped with infinite complacency. I stammered through as much as I could remember of the little speech which I had conned for the occasion, saying as little as might be of the proposer. The ladies withdrew, and the real business of the day began. My father rose to give an account of his proceedings in London, which need not be set down here, as I have put it on record elsewhere. He ended by saying: "The highest court of law in this country has given judgment against Vermuijden, but he continues his illegal action. Persons near to his Majesty have assured the Dutchman of royal protection, and dare to set the King's prerogative above the law. That assertion of prerogative is baseless, and I confidently expect that it will be soon withdrawn. Parliament is at this moment, as you know, taking