TALES & SKETCHES.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 745, 11 June 1886, Page 6

TALES & SKETCHES.

[NOW FIRST PUBLISHED.] THE TREASURE OF THORBURNS<s> BY FREDERICK BOYLE. Author of ‘On the Border Land,’ * A Rood Hater,’ ‘ Camp Notes,’ &c. [The Right op Translation is Reserved.] CHAPTER VII. The Second Proposal. When Hubert Fanshawe came down, on the third morning on a visit which was to last a fortnight, Mr Esking was alone in the breakfast room. He asked after Kate, with becoming warmth, and listened with interest to the reply. Hubert thought all was forgotten, and recovered his spirts ; but in due time, after fulfilling the claims of hospitality, Mr Esking proceeded with undiminished calmness : ‘lt has occureed to me, Hubert, that the sudden departure which you proposed last night may be inconvenient ’ ‘ I proposed nothing of the kind,-uncle !’ ‘Didn’t you? Well let us put it, the sudden departure that suggested itself ’ ‘lt didn’t suggest itself to me ! I don’t wish to leave you ! Quite the reverse !’ ‘ Then I will make no qualification,’ said Mr Esking with a smile which showed, if I can analyse it, giod-natured composure, a little impatience for his nephew’s dulness and firm resolve. ‘lt has occurred to me that your sudden departure might cause inconveinence to yourself, or to Kate, or to my sister, or to all three. I should be distressed to think that the visit had resulted in any shape or form of annoyance. Therefore, my dear nephew, I beg your acceptance of a little present which will enable you to pass the time elsewhere with more gaiety than we could possibly have offered'you.’ Hubert’s brow was heavy with passion ; but he glanced at the cheque Mr Esking offered, and it cleared considerably. ‘Your hints are not to be misunderstood, uncle. May I hope that you bear no ill-will towards usfor my wife’s behaviour yesterday ?’ * Not in the very least; why should I? Mr Genest Mas quite reconciled as soon as he got my money ; he would be delighted to entertain your wife every day on fcne same terms. There is no ill-feeling in that direction, and I really wanted a horse ; the price was a little heavier than I could have wished, but that’s not serious. Oh ! no, Hubert ! I have bean much interested in your conversation and Kate's also. We part with the kindliest feeling on my side.’ Hubert did not understand.

‘ Our feeling towards you, uncle,’ he said.’ ‘ are quite as warm. Under those circumstance, is it necessary to part ?' •It will be better, I think. We have made a pleasing acquaintance, and our mutual sympathy will not be lessened by distance.’* Mrs Fanshawe appeared. ‘ I was saying, dear Kate, that the purpose of your visit, has been fulfilled greatly to my satisfaction, and Hubert is good enough to say to yours also. This is a very dull house at any time, but especially this season, when seaside places and others are so gay. I should think Scarborough must be charming now.’

Kate had entered the room with an air evidently expectant of circumstances, prepared to smile and be friends in a triumphant way if overtures were made ; or to sulk over her injuries if Mr Esking persisted in his displeasure of overnight. Nothing worse could possibly be expected, for she had persuaded herself that Hilda’s warning was ridiculous, and her husband had not ventured to tell his uncle s remarks. Therefore. this abrupt suggestion made her gasp in amaze.

« But, uncle ! Do you mean to turn us out ?’ * Turn you out, my near ? Certainly not ? I think you will really find Scarborough more agreeable for a fortnight —but you will choose for yourself, of course. Indeed, I should prefer the Lake district personally, and your husband is furnished with means to ensure comfort wherever you go.’ Her face became so threatening that Hubert hastily presented the cheque. ‘ See how kind and liberal our uncle is, my dear!’ Kate was not so angry that she could not glance at the figure, but, handsome though it was, the utmost money could do was to check the full expression of her rage. ‘ You are turning us out, Mr Esking,’ she said with an evil smile. ‘And lam only grateful that you do it so graciously. I shall never forgot it—never ! Hilda, my dear, you were quite correct, and I heg pardon humbly for doubting your thorough knowledge of your papa’s character. We are turned out—with a cheque ! And we’re going to Scarborough to enjoy ourselves for the time we were to have passed here !’ * That’s very judicious !’ said Mr Esking, with cheerful composure. ‘You must not think that I recommended the Lake Distiict. There are many trying incidents that may befall a tourist there.—Bring in breakfast, Armstrong.—the weather alone,’ he added, rising, ‘ is so uncertain, and the company one meets seldom proves agreeable on a wet day, Scarborough, I have understood, is always pleasing to ladies —A kidney my dear ?—And when do you propose to start?'

Kate was suffocating. She did not trust herself to answer, daunted by the firm and hard resolve, the recklessness, the indifference to anything which she or all the world might say, of a man from whom they had great expi (stations —for Hubert had told so much of the conversation last night. He answered for his Wife sullenly : *lf Kate approves of Scarborough, we must go early, I suppose.’ ‘ Perhaps you had better. It is a broken journey, though not far in a bee line. Arms* strong, fetch the Bradshaw.’ Though Mr Eskiug never travelled himself, his rare visitors, always persons of distinction, had constant need of Bradshaw. And with the methodic thoughtfulness belonging to his disposition, he subscribed to the great railway authority, and received his yolume every month,

‘ I think,’ said he, turning over the pages* with skilled rapidity, * you had better catch the train for York at Rowley, 11.15 a.m, What time is it ? That will be a little tooearly for Kate, perhaps. The next suitable* is 1.30. p.m. Will you decide for the 1.30, p.m. ?’

Kate could endure no longer. ‘ Please lefc us decide the order of our going ourselves, sir ! We will not cause you any further trouble !’

The scene was inexpressibly painful to Hilda. Iu the long days and nights, scarcely broken by an incident, of the last three years, she had learned to understand her parent—in his outward manifestations of character, at least. Those studies had not been conscious. She neither watched, nor inquired, nor reflected; but the brain gathered knowledge without effort. A father more absolutely kind did not exist. He refused nothing, he spared himself neither trouble nor cost to meet any wish of his daughter's ; in truth they had been very few and very trifling. Demonstrations of affection Hilda did not expect or miss, and perhaps her affection was rather increased than lessened by a coolness of tone when, in deeds, love was so clearly proved. She knew Mr Esking, therefore, to be hard of will and obs’inate. That he should turn out guests who offended him was to be expected, but this cynical ease, courtsey, and good humour shocked her. Hilda would have expected a stern rebuke, and an explusion carried through in another manner —more open, as one may say. She could hardly have explained the feeling, but it was a consciousness that her father had depths under the smoothness of his calm and resolute bearing which she hud not suspected. But the proprieties must be observed on her side.

* Papa does not understand these matters, even so well as most men, Kate,’ she said. * I shall be happy to assist you in packing.’ * I want no help or yours !' Kate answered wild with spite. Mr Esking said gravely, as he rose fromi table : * With my daughter’s assistance or without, I trust you wifi be ready in time.” ‘ Ready, uncle, I protest ’ ‘ And I bid you remember, Hubert, what I said last night. I spoke with a full comprehension of your unfortunate circumstances, and the revelations of this morning add nothing to my knowledge of your wife’s disposition. Therefore, between us, nephew, things remain the same. It will be your fault if I change my arrangements. Remember that ?’ He left the room, * Oh, Kate, lam so sorry ?’ Hilda could say no more, ‘I am not ! I am glad to leave the house of a madman, and a boor ! What fun it will be telling the story iu Shuttleton ! But no one will be surprised a bit, that’s the worst of it.’

‘ I really think uncle is not quite right, Hilda,’ Hubert said. ‘ That's the only excuse I can make for him.’ * He does not want one luckily, for that’s*, quite wrong. But we won’t go into the question, please. I am very sorry this has happened, and so is papa, I’m sure.’ ‘ I should like to make him sorry, and you: too ! Perhaps I shall find a means in good time.’ ‘ Don’t blame Hilda, dear— ’ ‘ Oh, of course, ! Perhaps you would likerne to invite her to our house ? Oh, certainly ! Pray come, dear Hilda, and I will try to make you as comfortable as your father has made me. Do, and stop a fortnight ? Trust my husband to see you are not turned out iu three days if he can help it.’ ‘ I have expressed my regret, which is*. sincere, but I will say that your conduct— ’ she interrupted herself. ‘ Good-bye, Kate !: Good-bye Hubert !’ * Won’t you give me a parting kiss— ’ Hilda left the room, longing for the openair to blow away the influence of a woman, silly and vulgar as malicious, and to re-string her jarred nerves. She ordered Cupid. So their cousin was not present when Mr* and Mrs Fanshawe left. But Mr Esking: was, eager in a grave way, full of solicitude* for the visitors departing. Hilda, preoccupied, had taken Fenwick with her, forgetting that he would be wanted. Mr Esking* asked severely why the coachman was not there, and when his absence was explained,, assured Kate with emphasis that he should reprove his daughter for her thoughtlessness in taking him away ; meanwhile they were perfectly safe with young Talboys, the groom. And so od. Kate really believed him to be mad or irresponsible, at least, but she did not forgive on that account. Hubert was more cheerful. For when he penetrated to the Charter Room, announcing that they were ready, Mr Esking proved to be very agreeable. He had been thinking of the small embarrassments into which his unfortunate * speculations ’ had led him, and having some loose cash at the moment, he was pleased to lend a round sum upon a note of hand. The transaction did not occupy five minutes ; impatient as she was, Kate observed no delay. But in that time her husband obtained relief from pressing cares, and Mr Esking locked an 1.0. U., payable at sight, in the security, not of an antique coffer, but of a modern safe warranted to resist anything. * Thank you, "dear uncle,’ Kate said, as she got into the brougham, ‘ for a very brief but very amusing visit. I have told Hilda that I should like to repay your hospitality one dav.’ Mr Esking smiled cordially, and bowed, and shook hands again through the window. So they left Little Thorburns. Lunch was a meal unknown in that household, unless some stranger were present. Hilda did net return till late. After a walk and a survey of his glass-houses and garden, Mr Esking retired to the Charter Room, not to emerge till dinner was announced, as a geneial thing. He occupied himself in cataloguing, arranging and annotaing his collections. This great work was in progress when Hilda came back to her father’s roof, and it had been continued without interruption ever since; but the results were hardly yet perceptible, MrEsking’s plan in this matter was as thoughtful, his execution as firm, as in all things else he he undertook. Assuredly he never * pottered.’ But the task would have found employment for a half dozen industrious and learned scribes. Nothing he had ever*

studied did this man forget, and each article in his museum thought worthy a place in the catalogue suggested reference to others. From breakfast to dinner time, after the stroll of inspection, Mr Esking was thus occupied daily. Few girls, even good ones, could have endured the loneliness, but Hilda did not seem to feel it. She read no novels, which indeed was a happy abstinence, she did not propose to help her father, she paid no mr.re visits to the housekeeper’s room or the kitchen than was necessary. But if anyone supposed that her life was dull, or she was stupid, it would have been a . ridiculous mistake. Hilda, dwelt in the ' open air winter and summer, wet or fine made no difference. When the day was so bad that she could not leave a shelter without annoyance more keen than the enjoyment to be obtained, her chair was set in the roofed passage leading from the other buildings to the Charter Room. There she sat, possibly read, or less possibly, worked, content to feel the wind and the dank vapours of the garden. For these, when the sun did not shine, made her delight—or rather’, her subsistence. She did not 1 revel ’ or disport herself on the brightest day. The open air was a necessity, not a luxury—that is, it did not excite her, but without it she could not live. Having it in full measure, the girl could well dispense with ‘ occupation.’ This peculiarity interested Mr Esking in a high degree. It was in his mind when he said Hilda would have been, a * shield: maiden,’ perhaps, had she lived fifteen hundred years ago. It matched her fine figure, exquisite complexion, large blue eyes, and wealth of golden hair ; it belonged to the thoroughbred stock, so very rare among us now a-days. Had the instinctive want of open air been missing in his daughter’s character, Mr Esking would not have regarded her with such pride as a specimen. That present, he felt sure that all the other virtues of the antique strain which he valued much more keeply than the mongrel race of hi 3 contemporaries, would appear on due summons. What these were to his conception, will be displayed. At dinner he announced that Mr Genest had paid a call, bringing the new horse. Hilda told what George had said, how Bayleaves could not be trusted under the saddle, though reasonably quiet in harness. . A leisurely discussion of this statement, with excursions into the archreology of the "Warrenage, and the pedigree of the Genesis, carried them through the meal. Mr Esking knew infinitely more about the place and the family than did the squire or even George, thanks to his patient labor in the Muniment Room at Thorburns ; and he had a way, brief, but full of matter, in telling his information, which always kept Hilda attentive. But when Armstrong had withdrawn, the serious purport of Mr Genest’s visit was declared. , . ‘lt seems, my dear,’ said Mr Esking, * that George admires you very much.’ * I know that, papa,’ she answered calmly. ‘ Indeed V Ann what did you reply ?’ ‘ I had no occasion to reply exactly. I let him understand that I did not care for him in that way.’ «I am sorry to hear it, my dear, if you really meant that. It is a compliment to a manufacturer’s daughter. Everyone would like to see the Genests of the Warrenage occupying their old position.’ ‘ I should like it, certainly, for one,’ Hilda said, smiling, ‘ if the restoration were not to be carried out at my expense.’ * But George is a fine young fellow. He will make a position for himself, anyhow, and with the help you could give, my dear, it would be a great one. Think of it. You do not object to him personally V « No, I don’t object. What do you mean, papa— that you wish me to marry Mr George Genest ?’ ‘ You may put it so. Yes. He is coming down shortly, and I should like him to be here a good deal, so that we may observe him. I have little doubt what the consequence will be in your case.’ ‘ Nor have I, papa !’ * Don’t make up your mind beforehand,’ said Mr Esking, with a little irritation. ‘ You will resist your own instincts, I know, if you do. Remember, I wish you to like the lad, and give him the opportunity of pleasing your fancy. That’s all. As I say, if you do that, Hilda, I have no fear of the result.’ . , «Then it goes further than a wish with you, papa.?’ ‘ Not at present. Let the future take care of itse’f. I distinctly desire you to allow George Genest a chance, to think of him as a possible husband, and to treat him accordingly. Behave on that understanding, my dear, and we can discuss the matter in due time.’ He retired, leaving Hilda in astonishment, and some distress. The subject was not mentioned again. A fortnight passed, and the young barrister came home for the long vacation, which he had hitherto spent upon the Continent mostly. The day after his arrival he called. It was an embarrasing moment for Hilda, who suspected that he knew Mr Esking stood on his side, while she remembered the words that had passed in the grounds of the Warrenage. But Gearge Genest had many Instincts of the gentleman ; he was very deep in love, and timid in his presence. His only action which could possibly be thought to betray a knowledge of the understanding between their parents was a certain unusual assiduity in visiting Little rhor'burns ; and that Hilda must needs pardon. Her feeling toward him did not grow warmer, but it did not grow more cold. The ‘jumpiness’ which used irritate while it amused was repressed in some measure, as an abiding interest took possession of his mind.

Setting the presence of her lover aside, as she could easily do, Hilda found the new state of things agreeable. George was quick, well-informed, and rather droll in conversation ; always ready to divert himself and others, prepared at a moment’s notice to suggest ‘ something to do.’ It will be understood that such a faculty would not hitherto have been useful in Mr Esking’s bouse, but a change came over it at this time. The antiquarian almost abandoned bis catalogue, spending half his day with the young people, driving to houses and scenes in the neighborhood, in charge of a picnic

basket, while they rode, listening with a bland smile to the youth's rattle, justifying his own , presence from time to time, as it were, but a little lecture upon the points of historic interest which made the pretext of their excursion.

Several weeks passed in this manner, and Hilda began to form acquaintances in the country. For they met a number of people by accident, all of whom George knew, of course, and most of whom were rather gratified by an introduction to the rich and famous archaeologist, or to his beautiful daughter, or to both. They penetrated at least the outer wall of the country circle, lunched with a peer of the realm, and entertained the baronet with pigeon pie, foie gras, and champagne under his ancestral trees. George was not jealous—in truth, he had no cause ; but Hilda was surprised to mark that these casual presentations were rather sought by Mr Esking. If the idea had not been too absurd for acceptance, she would have thought that her father actually wished to get into society. One evening, as they entered the gate of Little Thorburns, after a long day, Simmons passed. He touched his cap to George, scowled at Hilda, and grinned maliciously at Mr Esking who was seated in the carriage.

‘By the bye,’ said George, as he dismounted, ‘.I had a talk with that cranky old fellow a day or two ago.’ He paused to help Hilda from the saddle. * Did he say anything about the threatened lawsuit ?’ Mr Esking asked. ‘ I am getting anxious.’

‘ Oh, he has made up his mind to leave that business until Thorburn’s return home.’ ‘ Is he really coming ?’ Hilda inquired. ‘ Quite seriously. Simmons heard from him last week. His uncle Ralph is dead, and he’s only waiting to nurse a sick friend at Kimberley. Then, Mr Esking, as Simmons hopes, he will let you know what’s what ; the ancient mariner will be rather pleased to know what’s what himself, I imagine, for he seems very vague at present. George was staying to dinner, and he entered the house. ‘ Did you observe that Simmons had no dog with him, Miss Esking ? The solitary specimen which survived your cousin’s onslaught wa3 heartbroken, so he says—no good for nothing ; and he shot him.’ ‘ What a brutal old man !’ Hilda cried.

‘ He’s wept tears of rum ever since, and his only consolation is that voung Thorburn will certainly add this item to his general account against you, sir.’ Hilda withdrew to dress. ‘ Simmons had no exact information about the time of his master’s arrival ?’ Mr Esking asked.

* I’m sorry I did not pay more attention— the matter interests you of course. Egad, sir, I’ll run after him, if you like. There’s plenty of time, for an able bodied snail would give the old fellow a start on the road from your gate to Thorburns.’ ‘I should be obliged. Dinner will wait your return-, of course.’ But George was back without delay, and he told his news at table. ‘ I’ve a whole budget,’ he began. ‘ In the first place, David Thorburn was killed by Kaffirs. Doesn’t that shock you, Miss Esking ? ‘ Shock me ? Men are killed every day and every minute. Why should it V ‘ I don’t know, I’m sure. The ways of ladies are unaccountable —perhaps I should rather say their fashions are.’ * How do fashionable women behave when they hear that somebody they never knew is killed by Kaffirs ?’ ‘ I believe they say generally, to begin with, ‘ Poor fellow ! How sad ! How ’ Well, there they end.’ ‘ I can repeat all that—it's words !' What do they do ?’ ‘ Oh, they do nothing at all ! As you say, it’s words ! ’Pon my soul, Miss Esking, you convince me without an effort.’ ‘ Convince you of what ?' ‘Of the silliness of women in general ! Why should anyone think it necessary to cry out because David Thorburn is dead ? I will carry the news round to-morrow morning, and observe with a sweet smile how our ladies take it.’

‘ Please recollect a certain difference. I was not affected on hearing the sudden death of a man whose existence was unknown to me a few days ago. People acquainted with Mr David Thorburn will naturally and properly feel more concern.’ ‘Oh, I quite understand ! There are plenty of ladies in your case. 111 direct my attention to them.’

‘ But when is Mr Thorburn comiDg home ?’ said Mr Ksking. «It seems that this friend also was hurt—in the same affair, I suppose, which cost David his life—and he is lying at Kimberley, young Thorburn nursing him. He is expected to get away in a week from the date of his letter, but the wounded man must travel slowly. It might be a month after Simmons received it that he would arrive—’ * And when did Simmons receive it V’ ‘On Wednesday last. He has orders to put the stabling into repair at once, bo that it may be dry when the heir conies, and to do up the house. Thorburn means to take his friend home before entering into possession, and Simmons is to hold himself ready to meet them at Southampton.’ ‘ I hope we are not to be invaded by an army of bricklayers and decorators from Rowley,’Hilda said. • Oh, no ! Except the stables, nothing is to be touched in the way of repairs. But Simmons is to be clean and whitewash, and all that.’

‘ A dangerous commission to give to an old sailor,’ Mr Esking said. ‘ We must not speak of Mummius and Corinth in a lady’s presence ’ ‘ Why not ? I see the application.’ ‘ Another accomplishment ! I was lo3t in admiration already.' ‘ To change the subject, George,' said Mr Esking, ‘ read this note which I found waiting with Sir Phillip Bohun's card.' ‘ An invitation to lunch at the Castle, and survey it at leisure. Very ingeniously turned ! I recognise the head of the governess in her ladyship's composition. _ “Lady Bohun will be uneasy until she recieves the assurance that an authority so distinguished as Mr Esking is not satisfied with an outside view of her house. This refusal of an invi-

tation to see the interior will lead Lady Bohun to suspect the genuineness of various memorials in which she has believed implicitly hitherto/’ Very good for you, sir, and you, Miss Esking, have your little paragraph. “ If, Mr Esking can prevail upon his daughter to accompany him, he will introduce the fascination of youth to the charms of antiquity.” Dear dame, and dearer governess !’ ‘ That is magnanimous from you, Mr Genest,’ said Hilda, * for I do not observe that you are invited.’ ‘ Oh, I am enfant de la maison at Bohun Castle,’ he replied. ‘lt would be rather a slight to ask me. I hope you will go, sir.’ * I will go with pleasure one day, but not just now. We’ll see about it.’ Hilda rose, and the gentlemen passed into the Charter Room. • Your father will be distressed to hear David Thorburn’s fate, George.’ ‘ Miss Esking’s wise remarks give me courage to speak frankly,’ he answered, taking a cigar. ‘ Why should my father be distressed ? All the Thorburns were idiots, or next thing to it, except old Hig, and David was peculiarly imbecile, as I gather. This young fellow will prove to be a curiosity, I expect —a mixture of the fool and the boor.’

‘My old friend Captain Thorburn was very reluctant to speak of his brothers ’ ‘ Naturally, if he accepted a certain text of Scripture in his literal sense. A man could not respect the wisdom of kinsfolk who burrowed under the foundations of his home, and brought half of it to the ground. Why, David Thorburn had not the intelligence of a working bricklayer !’ ‘lt is rather odd that we have never chanced to speak of that incident, George. Do they talk of the Thorburn treasure in the neighborhood?’ ‘ Oh, yes, and awful nonsense they talk about it.’ • People believe in it, then ? ‘ Some do, some don’t, and both are equally absurd, to my thinking. In a matter of which nobody has any information, it’s only a fool who believes or denies.’ « A very judicious frame of mind.’ ‘ The only good quality I claim,’ he answered, laughing, ‘is judgment. Why should there not be a treasure at Thorburns ? Such discoveries are made every day. If it is asked, upon the other hand, why there should be, in that old house, rather than in the Warranage, for instance, I can only say that the tradition of centuries has declared that there is a treasure in the former place and not in the latter ; the circumstances are remembered —probably you know them, sir ? and they are a sufficient reason in themselves. But then, again, tradition is a notorious liar. So, until better informed, I keep an open mind.’ ‘ And you have done wisely up to this. But I can give you that better information. There is a treasure at Thorburns, and I know precisely where it lies.’ ‘ You don’t say so sir !’ George cocked his eye-glass with an extra twist, and listened, not breathless at all. but interested and yet more amused. . . . ‘ I have in my possession the original record, of its deposit. I could drop a plumbline into the very middle.’ . ‘Really! This becomes exciting! lou have the original record —how you must long to drop that line—with a hook at the end !’

* Don’t you V < If I had your knowledge and your tastes, sir, I should go out of my mind. As it is, I would give something to be present when the excavation is made. You will tell young Thorburn, I suppose ?’ ‘He has robbed me, George—or rather, his uncle did. I lent Captain Thorburn a large sum and maintained him till his death on the agreement that his house should fall to me. At the very moment when I was to enter into the rights I had bought, David Thorburn repaid the sum with interest—and I am swindled.’ George saw the passion in his face, and he had sympathy enough to understand how bitter the disappointment must be. ‘ The treasure is not cash, I suppose, sir ?* ‘ I feel sure it isn’t—a fugitive would take cash with him. It is the plate and the household valuables of a rich yoeman five hundred years ago. There is no' such find on record. It will supply a new page in history. The money worth of it I meant to give to the Thorburns to the utmost farthing and beyond.’ , ‘ There is still a law of treasure trove, George murmured. . ‘ I will reckon with that. Now, George, listen. Don’t interrupt till I have done. You love my daughter, but you will never marry her even it I stand merely neutral. At my request she would marry you, and I will command, if need be, upon, conditions. It would be possible to remove this treasure without Simmons’ knowledge, though he were in the house, but one day soon he will be absent for twenty-four hours at least—probably much more —when he goes to meet Eldred Thorburn, I mean. We want only a pick-axe and a spade, a pocket-full of cement, and perhaps two hours without interruption. 1 could do the work myself, but two persons will do better. I say that Eldred . Thorburn shall have the moneyworth, every penny of it ! I am rich enough ! And if you help me you shall have Hilda.’ , . , * This is an amazing proposal indeed, Mr Esking. It amounts to burglary !’ ‘ To take something from a man who does not know he possesses it, and who could not value it if he did, is not robbery. If Thorburns had fallen to me, as it would have done but for an accident, the treasure would have been mine legally. Where is the difference, when I am ready to pay three times four thousand pounds, or six times, if necessary ?' . < Without arguing that curious thesis, sir, I must declare that the law would see an immense difference.’ ‘ The law is blind ; incompetent to deal with such a case. As you say, we will not argue. It is to take or to leave, George Genest. If you thick of the risk, think also of the prize.’ Armstrong tapped at the door. Your horse is ready, sir,’ he said. ‘ You do not expect an answer now ?’ George said, rising.

‘Oh, no ! We have a month before us, I daresay ; a week certainly. Ponder it well ! Good night !’

CHAPTER VIII. Accepted.

George Genest was shrewd and practical, bub his father’s son could not be chivalrous, and exclusive culture of the brain does not produce a harvest of principles. Right and wrong were not feelings with him, but questions for cool, unprejudiced argument. To such a mind Mr Esking’s proposition was not shocking, beyond the ugly possibility of vengeance from outraged law : this made a consideration grave enough, but it might be put aside until the means came under discussion In the abstract idea George could find several pleas. It is a pity that things of high historic interest should lie buried in the earth. If Thorburn got them, he would probably make no good use of bis luck. The money-worth Mr Esking was eager to pay, more than content with the value of the objects in their artistic and antiquarian point of view. The Treasure of Thorburns thus became a public question, superior to the paltry detail of ownership—and who had such right to take it in hand, as trustee for the world of scholars, as Mr Esking ? But George did not dwell long on this aspect of the proposal either. He reflected at some length upon the likelihood of the story. Mr Esking might well be ‘ cracked ’ on this subject, or he might have misunderstood the antique evidence ; or, still more probably, the Treasure might have been removed. This was no small matter. For to dig upon private property in search of buried valuables is not less criminal, of course, whether the things sought be found or no ; but the illogical mind of man might accept as a silly freak in one case what it would punish severely in the other. George decided that the chances ran in favor of Mr Esking’s theory. Knowing where the Treasure had been deposited, he had assured himself; doubtless, that it still remained there. Nor was he cracked upon the subject; nor could it reasonably be supposed that such an authority would misread an old inscription. Leaving these matters for future deliberation, George turned without effort to the practical bearing of the idea. For the reward or payment offered he would have risked a. deadly peril. But, in the first place, was it quite certain that Hilda would submit ? In the second, was it absolutely needful to pay the price ? George was conceited ; not stupidly, but thoroughly. He did not think himself handsome or fascinating in an imusual degreee, but for ‘ all round ’ capacity to interest a clever girl he recognised no superior. And, then, deep in his secret soul, lay an exaggerated estimate of the distance between a Genest of the Warrenage and a manufacturer’s daughter. He had been refused once, but many things had happened since then. George had a right to think that his society was not unpleasing. In fact, before this proposal, he had begun to hope that Hilda would reconsider her decision. If so, what need had he to engage in an adventure, perilous, disagreeable and discreditable ? It did not escape this young man’s observation that Mr Esking might avenge himself for a refusal by curtailing his daughter’s dowry if she married against his wish ; or even by discarding her—the parent who could offer such a bargain must be capable of anything. But whatever his first notion in paying court to Hilda, he now sought the bride for her own sake, and the thought of consequences only occurred to be discussed. More serious was the reflection that Mr Esking might give his daughter a command not to engage herself without his consent, and this chance he finally prepared to meet by a frank disclosure of his intentions. Not without profit had George studied mankind at the University and in the law courts. He recognised that to deceive Mr Esking would be a dangerous essay, and resolved to appeal in straightforward terms. Accordingly, next day he took an opportunity to declare himself. The old gentleman was poring, as usual, over one of his cases, notebook in hand, pencil in mouth, and a sheet of foolscap beside him, half its length being turned down as margin for observations and references. He looked np with a benevolent smile. ‘ I am reviewing in mature age the evidence of youthful folly, George. It is irritating, but not quite painful.’ ‘ Your follies of youth, sir, were more prudent, I suspect, than the wisdom of most veterans.’ * I think they were. Now, here is a case of gems which I bought thirty years ago, at a price I could very ill afford, as antiques. The last time I examined them some doubt arose ; that was twelve years since. Now I am certain, and they go up to town for sale to-ni«ht. But see how exquisite they are, George ! I think better of myself because I was taken in so thoroughly. For if I had bought them a bargain it would have been no credit.’ ‘ I understand. Since to he taken in was not a disgrace under the circumstances, you are almost proud to think that you made such a sacrifice to art. Shall you lose much, sir ?’ ‘ Quite the contrary. I said the review was not painful. Gems that deceived me as a boy will be passed by the highest connoiseurs. —Have you anything to say about our topic of last night?' . ‘ I w i s h to speak frankly. Mr Esking. We have a month before us, Will you promise not to influence your daughter one way or other during that time !’ . ‘ I promise with pleasure, but it is unnecessary. I should never interfere, excepting the conditions referred to. You wish, he added smiling, ‘to win Hilda, if possible, on your own merits, without aid from me ?’ ‘ I wish to try, sir. t Ykry well. But since it will cause some little embassassment in the future, if you try too openly and fail, I advise you to study her carefully, to look upon her tastes and her character before risking much. If you do so, with the intelligence and thoughtfulness which I believe you possess, we may all be spared some trouble.’ ‘ You mean that there are reasons inherent, in Miss Esking’s case or mine, which forbid me to hope for success without your assistance ! Pray speak out, sir, remembering always that your words may be used 1 against you, as the policemen say.’

* I willingly submit to that in the interest of us all. Speaking out then, George, you are a smart fellow, and clever, and goodlooking—but I appeal to your artistic interests —are you the match, physically or mentally, which my daughter would recog. nise? She has no silly ideas upon the subject. Whether marriages are made in heaven or elsewhere is a problem, which. I’ll be bound to say, has never passed through her head ; but assuredly Hilda feels, though unconsciously, what kind of man would be her natural helpmate. Regarding the question without prejudice, can j r oa think that you are he ?’ ‘ Perhaps I am unable to regard it dispassionately, but I can listen to your exposition, sir, with absolute composure. What class of man, in your judgment, would Miss Esking recognise as her fated counterpart ?'

*lt is not difficult to see. My daughter is an extraordinary instance of “ throwing back ” as you sportsmen say—an English girl of the pure ethnic type, who would have been quite at home in the Ceols of Hengest. You understand me, I'm sure? I speak of her nature, which artificial restraints and acquirements have overlaid in some degree ; but the substance remains.’

‘ I quite understand. Well ?’ * But if you understand, you can answer the question.’ * I am not so familiar with old times and old" habits of thought as you. Pray continue.’

‘ I would say, then, did you ever hear that one English maiden of that time was attracted by the charms or the arts of a Roman wooer?- He stood immeasurably above her level, doubtless ; perhaps it was on that account she did not appreciate him. But as a matter of fact she did not find her match there.’

‘ Then I ask again, sir, what species of male animal, genus homo, would Miss Esking recognise as a fitting helpmate ?’ ‘ If I am right in my view, history tells us. He should be as big as possible, bearded, resolute, masterful. A man who, if I declined his suit, would carry my daughter off if he could without inquiring her wishes very carefully. In short, George, everything most unlike yourself.’ * But you have drawD a savage !’ ‘My outline is rough. It is sot to be supposed that such a being has no virtues. All that belongs to courage—truth, honor, kindness of heart, steadfastness, and many more, are his.’ ‘ And I trust you do not think, sir, that I am wanting these ?’ ‘ Certainly not, for I hope to welcome you as a son in-law. But you fail, I think, in those other qualifications needed to attract my daughter’s instinctive fancy. Probably you do not believe a word of this ? Consider it, nevertheless, George, and make your studies, with the hint I have given, before taking a decisive step.’ ‘ But if Miss Esking entertains such views,’ he interrupted * Not views. She has never thought upon the subject. I speak of unconscious inclinations.’ x .

* Well! But are you certain that your influence would be strong enough to overcome them, if it were exerted ?’ * Just as certain of that as of the other points I have suggested.’ ‘ Then I may take it that you have made a study of Miss Esking’s character all round? Forgive the confession that I thought you absorbed in antiquarian investigations.’ * But that is a reason for studying Hilda ! She is a survival, as I say. In observing her habits and ways of thought I am led to a comprehension of most important details of history. Don’t laugh, George I You must have wondered what the maidens and matrons were like who bore no inconsiderable part in the story of the Conquest. Watch Hilda, and you will understand.’ * My knowledge of the story is not equal to that pleasing task, I fear. Let us return. Though Miss Esking has an unconscious inclination for a savage, she will dutifully submit if the parent chooses another sort of husband. You feel sure of that? Very good, sir! I will bear your remarks in mind, but meanwhile you allow me a fair field ?’ ‘ That is understood.’

George thought these notions silly. But they caused him to regard Hilda with an intellectual attention which he had not hitherto thought it needful to bestow upon a lovely girl, however curious her ways. Mr Esking gave him every opportunity. It was not novel to remark that she showed indifference to the small cares, topics, likings, aversions, and fancies generally, which are cherished by the young of her sex. No house was better ordered than Little Thorburns ; George had observed with hopeful complacency the smoothness of domestic life there, a striking contrast to the state of things at home. But Hilda seemed to take no interest in her duties, and certainly no pride in them. He never heard an order ffiven nor a point discussed, nor an explanation asked, much more offered. She was unquestionably mistress, but the arrangements worked by machinery as it were. Hilda was listlessly impatient of theories, enthusiasms, abstractions. She cared nothing for sentiment. All the modern talk of woman's place in society, her peculiar duties to Heaven and mankind were words, and tiresome words also. She did not seem to recognise any difference of sex, with regard to ideas or employments. That implied, as George told her one day, a sympathy with a certain school of feminine philosophers ; but Hilda did not see anything to found a school upon, and dropped the subject, bored in two minutes. The only poetry she could read, or bear to glance at, was such as stirs the blood ; and her taste there was so exacting that, in effect, her literature of this sort was confined to the old ballads of love and war. Mr Esking seized an occasion to make her confess that she had begun the study of ‘ Anglo-Saxon ’ in order to enjoy the Lay of Brunnenbwrg and Coedmon’s rendering of the Scriptures. These observations led George to understand why and how Mr Esking had come to entertain such an odd fancy about his daughter’s character. But they did not persuade him that the fancy was correct. A lonely and eccentric old student might thus interpret the signs ; a young man who had lived in the world could not accept such an.

explanation. Hilda -was unlike other girls, mo doubt—so much the worse for other girls : but to talk of her as a ‘ survival t ’ and all that, was simple rubbish. .•One peculiarity, however, be found very curious. That desperate love for the open air puzzled him. How could it possibly be reconciled with commonplace notions —or, for that -matter, with the proprieties, and dignities, and responsibilities of a British housewife':? The weather changed soon after he began his scrutiny, and their rides were interrupted. But he learned by chance that Hilda went out all the same, her escort ‘furnished with a waterproof, but she unprotected. And whenever he called, though March winds hadTeturned untimeously, she was in the garden, or, at best, seated under rfche verandah,-.Quite comfortable. The most extraordinary fact of all was that her skin did not show the cold. The hands, of perfect shape, small and soft, though sunburnt, were never red.; the fine complexion took no unusual color. Sitting at work, but more generally idle, Hilda was the same in appearance whether the glass stood at ninety in the shade, or beneath the sixty. And Mr Esking assured him with grave emphasis that twenty degrees more either way made no difference.perceptible. The result of his pondering was that George lost what self-confidence he had ■fostered up to this. He felt himself at sea in judging a young lady to whom the rules of ordinary womanhood -did not apply. Hilda stood above or below them, and, being a sensibly fellow at bottom, he admitted that her unconcealed amusement in his society was not necessarily encouraging. Nor was the loneliness upon which he had counted in a certain degree ; for, more watchful now, -he remarked that no incidents affected 1 her. The girl had been diverted by those glimpses of country people who came in their way during the pie-nic season, as she called it, but her interest lasted only just so long as they remained in sight. She did net concern herself about the visit to Bohunt Castle. If it was remembered, it did not cause more thought than any other appointment that might be inscribed on her •* agenda!’ Nevertheless, seeing what a grave price he would have to pay for Mr Esking’s support, George determined to risk a after all, since he was unable to guess Hilda’s feeling towards him it might possibly be kind. Therefore, one day, a fortnight or so after the conversation with Mr Esking, he seized an opportunity as they walked in the grounds. So brief were the words exchanged that I need not record them. Hilda showed surprise and a little impatience. Nothing had occurred, she said, to change the views with which Mr Genest was acquainted. He would not have dared to press the point, though her answer had been less resolute. They returned to the house, not unfriendly. The task of persuading her must not be made more difficult for Mr Esking.

That gentleman was busy in the Tower where, had he chanced to look, all the little scene could have been observed. To overhear is scarcely Beedful in such cases. As George mounted to ride away, Mr Esking descended from his elevation, and pressed him to dine on the morrow. He accepted. Before they withdrew to the Charter Hoorn that night the compact was made by interchange of look. George began at once : ‘ Let me. assure myself that you quite understand the risk—we can speak safely here ?’ ■* The windows are double, of the thickest glass; the inner door steel-plated, and the outer locked. Say on.* ‘Do you see that you are risking penal servitude ?’ «No judge would pass more than a nominal sentence.’ ‘Ob you, perhaps not; but your assistant whom they would call your accomplice—would mot get off so easily. But lam ready to stand my chance, sir, on conditions. In the first place, Thorburns must be quite empty when we make the attempt—’ * Of course ! I have reckoned on that. Let us finish the other question, You are justified in supposing the worst, George, but I have this to say. By a will which I ought to receive from my lawyer to morrow for signature, one half of all my property is left to Hilda, and the other half will be yours.’ ‘ Not if I am sentenced as a felon !’ ‘ That would make no difference under the circumstances. The other half, I say, is left absolutely to her husband, yourself. Now, if it would relieve your anxiety, and to show in practical form any absolute trust, I will execute a deed of gift, which I will hand to you upon the evening appointed. Fix the amount yourself.’ * I do not lend my assistance for money, sir! Positively. Mr Esking you seem to take no aeeount at all of the disgrace which lat least shall feel.!—But let this pass. Ob-

tain your daughter's consent that evening— I accept nothing more !' ‘The time is short, and I suspect you have made my interference more delicate than it should have been. But you may trust me, George, as I trust you ! Is there anything else ?' ‘ Yes. I must have a pledge that you will not examine this Treasure, if we find it, for twelve months !’

‘That I cannot admit. You have your reward —the treasure is mine 1 Not examine it for twelve months ! I might die within the time, and I could not rest in my grave, George ; I should return and haunt you !’ While he spoke his excitement cooled , the last words were almost smiling. ‘ My condition is insurmountable. If we stand in the dock, it shall not be even hinted that we shared a plunder likehouse-breakers. The chest, or what it may be, shall be found untouched.’ ‘ But why twelve months ? That’s much longer than is necessary—or shorter.’ ‘ Because in that time I shall be married, I hope. No, sir ! Give mo your word of honour on that score, or no temptation shall induce me to act.’ ‘Well, it is unreasonable, but I give my word—solemnly.’ ~ ‘ And I accept it solemnly. Upon that stipulation, if Miss Esking promises to be mine before or on the night you fix, I will abet you in this crime.' • So be it 1 Now, I must tell you, George, that I have opened communications with Simmons, and we are on good terms. He has heard again from Eldred Thorbum, fix-

iDg the 7th of next month for his arrival at Southampton—provided, of course, that the Union steamer 4 Gael ’is punctual. Any way, Simmons leaves here on the 6th, and I propose to do our work that night. There is not the shadow of danger. We shall be quite beyond view from the high road, and if by miraculous chance any laboring man should be about at such an hour he will think us supernatural beings. The Treasure, I feel certain will not be heavy; Edward Thorburn was a rich man of his class, but the household plenishing of a duke at that day was not grand—in things he would bury, I mean. Leave all details to me. We shall not return along the road, I hope, but make our way to the door in iny garden wall, enter the house through the verandah outside this room, and deposit the thing in one of my manuscript chests yonder. No servants’ rooms overlook the grounds. It is not humanly possibly that our doing should be observed.’

‘ I see that, sir. One might think that you had built this house expressly for the enterprise.’ After a momen’t hesitation, Mr Esking cried, with a deep but still excitement : I did arrange it so ! And take comfort from that assurance, George ! It is a good many years since I discovered where the Treasure lay, in a memorandum noted on the back of an old charter which Captain Thorburn sold me. My first impulse was to make an agreement with him ; but, first, he would not listen to a hint upon the matter, and then he ingenuously let me understand that my share would be nothing, not even honor. At that time his difficulties were not hopeless, or he would not believe them so. I knew his situation better, but not the whole truth. It seemed likely that he would be obliged to sell Thorburns, and then it occurred to me so to contrive the additions which I found necessary in my house that they should give me a strategic position. The Tower is useful to store my collections, but besides that it commands a view of the part of Thorburns in which I am interested. The gardem door was appreciated by my poor friend as a polite convenience ; but it enables me to reach that part unobserved. People laugh at my guileless system of achitecture, when they observe that no one can enter this room unless by passing through the kitchen or the garden. But you see now, George, that the architect is not such a fool in common matters as common folks think.’ ‘ What a revelation ! You should have been a diplomatist, sir, or a soldier.’

* I am content !—Then came the smash. Poor Thorburn’s debts were small, but his creditors were small. I bought everything he still possessed that was useful to me, and lent him £4,000 on the conditions you have heard. I rested easy in the assurance that Thorburns must fall to me, Treasure and all. You know the story of my disappointment. Believe me, George, thoughtfulness is seldom wasted. Those preparations made long ago are of priceless value at this moment.’

Genest sat in wonder. Until quite lately he had thought this scheming, resolute old man, a harmless, amiable, rather foolish student of futilities.

‘ You see why 1 tell all this now? I desire to give you a practical assurance that every step in our enterprise has been pondered, every danger foreseen ’ * Including discovery V * That also I have considered, but it is a chance so remote, when Simmons has lost his dogs, and he himself quits the field, that I have ceased to think of it. Now, George, I will tell you the plan. Sir Philip Bohun’s invitation comes in very well—if you can contrive to suggest that he ask us to dinner, and he catches the idea.’

‘ I think I could manage that,’ said George, gloomily. The more he heard of the project, treated in such a cold-blooded way, the more bitterly ashamed he felt. Was it possible that this cunning, ruthless old man could be Hilda’s father ?

‘ We shall come home late, and you, having accompanied us in the brougham, return to the Warrenage in my dog-cart. You con ceal it behind the trees by Thorburns gate, in a place I will show you, and wait for me. In half an hour I join you. The tools will be found where they are wanted. In two hours at the utmost we shall stand in this room once more, the work done, the Treasure deposited safely in that chest. Then you drive smartly home. Whether to take any precautions by way of accounting for the interval between leaving here and arriving at the Warrenage. is a matter for your consideration. It may be done with ease, if you think such a measure prudent; damage the cart, and lead your horse.’ ‘ I don’t think that will be necessary,’ George replied, his disgust growing stronger and stronger. * Well ! And next day, when you call, we will talk of marriage.’ ‘ The young man rose hastily ; it was a change of subject so abrupt as to be actually painful. *lf Miss Esking has not retired, I will wish her good night, and go,’ he said. ‘ You will find her upstairs, no doubt. You approve of the arrangements ?’ ‘ Oh, yes ! Good night, sir !’ ‘I will write to Sir Philip Bohun first thing in the morning, and send the note by hand. If you called on her ladyship to morrow, and induce her to invite us for the 6th, it will be excellent time, I should think. Good night, George. Tell Hilda lam busy, and don’t wish to be disturbed till she goes to bed. My Dutch friend want his vocabulary back, and I have not finished with it. The manuscript really proves to be an unique edition of Archbishop Alfric's dialogues—ah, I forgot ! It was with Hubert Fanshawe I discussed that matter. Good night, George f Mr Esking sat himself down to collate the crabbed scroll with an air of benevolent composure, not affected in the least.

George recognised that. ‘ What a terrible man !’ he said to himself.

Hilda was seated by the open window of the draw.ng-room, gazing idly on the moonlit garden. She looked up in surprise. * Is anything the matter ?’ * Not at all. I have only come to say good night—and to warn you, by-the-bye, that Mr Esking is busy. He does not wish to be interrupted till bedtime.’ ‘ I am not used to these attentions, Mr Genest, that’s why I fancied there might be

something wrong. My father's visitors do not invade the gynacoeum after dinner.’ * Gynacxum ? What a scholar you are T ‘ Such a scholar as a parrot is !’ ‘ But my intrusion does not annoy you ! I selfishly came to get the taste out of my mouth —the taste of whiskey and tobacco, I mean ! Are you really content, Miss Esking, to sit from dinner till tea time without exchanging a word?’ ‘ Quite content, Mr Genest.’ ‘ Might I hint a timid feeling of wonder ’ * You might, for it chimes in with the thoughts that engaged me just now ‘ Then possibly you may be persuaded to tell me what they were ? It is generally understood that a young lady sitting at the window by moonlight is meditating on love.’ ‘ That subject did not occur to me. I was thinking how unutterably mean and small our life is, how unimportant we are, how miserably silly it is to pine and strive to assert ourselves. And I was thinking that men were happier in the blessed times of ignorance, when they found a reassuring consolation in believing that the moon rose, and shone, and sank at the impulse of a being like themselves. We know better now. The man in the moon is a grotesque old fable ! And this discovery, like others, seems humiliating to me.’ ‘ I feel what you mean. The blind forces of nature are dreadful to contemplate. I have been struck with the same idea ’ George found himself getting beyond his depth, and paused abruptly. ‘ Indeed ? But the idea did not haunt you ? You studied law not the less assiduously, hoping for briefs and a silk gown and the commendation of your fellows !’ * I assure you my ambition soars higher. These things are only a means. I hope to win a place in the govenment of my country.’ ‘Dear me ! And what do the blind forces of nature care for the government of your country ? I think, Mr Genest, you did not work out that idea of yours. If a duke, and a judge, and an archbishop stood with a ploughboy on the lawn yonder, would the moonbeams shine less brilliantly on him than on them ? It is likely that the ploughboy would be the finest figure of them all.’

‘ I really confess that you carry the argument above my reach. May I ask to what conclusions you are led ?’ ‘ To none—or rather, to conclude that it is not worth while to draw conclusions.’ ‘ That’s a sad creed, Miss Esking, if I understand you right. Men are such contemptible beings that it does't matter what they do. Is that it V «Near enough.’ ‘I think I begin to follow. It’s not worth while to have any ambition or wish or choice about any thing ? * And much more to talk ?’

* That s a strong hint. It seems to me that yours are very woeful sentiments for a young lady, and I rather fancy that the orthodox would not approve of them. What becomes of Everything in your philosophical system V * Everything returns to its true shape, and becomes nothing.’ ‘ More and more dreadful! I must beg the Rector to interview you ; or I will summon my friend Hawkins, of Baliol, to demonstrate, as he can so ably, that ritual is everything. Even if he should not convince you, I defy you to satisfy him that it is nothing. If I may venture to speak seriously, I should say, Miss Eskiug, that you live too much alone. These are odd fancies for a girl, and —you will not be offended ?’ ‘ Commonplace never offends.’ ‘ I drop such a prickly subject! Good night! You have given me food for reflection that will last.’

George was going to say that such views are perilous. The more he thought of them the more clearly he saw that they led to the negation of all conventional proprieties. But a young man in love subordinates question to the interest of his suit, and in this point of view Hilda’s wild philosophy was encouraging. He understood now that Mr Esking might probably succeed in persuading his daughter. A girl who feels that it is not worth while to have a choice about anything might reasonably be expected to submit, even in such a case as marriage, if her father urged her, and she had no strong objection to the youth proposed. Upon that score George was easy. Hilda liked him very well.

But these agreeable thoughts could not long detain him from consideration of the price exacted for his bride. Though the explanations and the plan Mr Esking offered seemed to remove all danger from the enterprise, George had a feeling more powerful than conscience—the sense of gentlemanly honor. Yet, though he regarded the prospect with dismay and misery, to withdraw never entered his mind.

It was no delicate task to suggest to Lady Bohun that she should invite Mr Esking' and his daughter to dine. Her only hesitation, when George hinted it, was a doubt whether they would accept. She proposed, at length, to call, in reply to Mr Esking’s note, and introduce the idea gracefully. So it was decided and accomplished. Next day Sir Phillip and his lady drove to Little Thorburns, inspected the treasures of art i which Mr Esking freely displayed, and marvelled over them ; but above all, they were struck with Hilda's beauty. Her ladyship conveyed the invitation with some neatness.

‘ Wedare notshowyou ourtrivial collection in cool blood, after this,’ she said. ‘ Our courage must be quickened by artificial means, Mr Esking. Suppose you came to dinner on the 6th. We shall be alone —my friends, and no one else.’ Mr Esking consented graciously. And so the execution of the plot began. (To be continued )