I think I have thought he failed to approve of the company we keep."

"Faith, so he does!" le Chemineau agreed with a grin. "He disapproves most heartily! A festering nest of traitorous vipers is the mildest term I have heard him use of this house. Nunks was always a crusted old Whig — and a damned crusty one, too, these days. But he ever had a warm spot for you, Ann-aye, and even for Jack, though he calls him an embellished young fool. ... Well, his Lordship is at Plymouth, as you may know. I put in there two days since for water and news, after six months in the Mediterranean; and there was the old boy, storming about the arsenal like Boanerges, demanding the moon, and as full of oaths as Satan. It seems this county is stripped of powder and shot, and without a cockboat to defend it-the heart of Britain, says Nunks, and monstrously neglected. I told him I never knew the heart was situated just below the epidermis. In the end, when he had borrowed a 4-pounder or two from Cornwall or the Scillies, I hauled him away and we dined together; and after his third bottle he mellowed somewhat, and grew maudlin and confidential, in particular about Shayle, and Jack, and a peck of troubles brewing here. By the same token, Ann, who is this Sir Bevil Rainborough ?"

Ann's slight start at the name, and her instinctive glance

"And now," le Chemineau continued for her, "he is the head and forefront of the present discontents. That is Nunks's version. Half the old boy told me was lies, no doubt, and another fourth pure Oporto, but I extracted a modicum of sense and what I take to be truth. It was all news to me, and vastly interesting. But it is serious, Ann, damned serious! What with this rising in Scotland, and Ormonde over the water, the Government's woke up, and they're after blood. His Lordship let out more than he was ever meant to, I'll be bound. In vino veritas-and yet, I wonder? He's not the fool he seems, as he was good enough to remark of me. And he let fall a pearl of wisdom very pat at the end, like a lady's postscriptum. 'Look'e, Charles,' said he, when I had pulled his head out of a dish of nuts, 'you've a good ship under you, and brains in your head, though you hide 'em well. Put into Shayle, and see what you can make of this cursed pickle. Ann's a good girl, and a pretty one '

his own words-' and I don't want young Jack hanged. Knock some sense into him before it's too late. The Government' says he, between hiccups- intends making examples this time. But mum's the word, boy! 'Tis unofficial -strictly unofficial.' And with that he fell asleep again, or pretended, and I went aboard, somewhat fuddled, and weighed within the hour."

Ann drew a sharp breath through her clenched teeth. "Hanged!" she whispered, turning a white stricken face to his; "hanged! Oh, Charles! how much do they know?”

"Between you and me," he said gently, "I think they know all. Or all that matters. Some one has blabbed. Some one always blabs-'tis the infallible touchstone of a ripe workmanlike plot. There are yet one or two points that I hope, strictly unofficially, to clear up for myself; but the essence of the affair, by Nunks's account, has been common knowledge at Whitehall for a fortnight since. 'Twas from London he got his first news of it, with a rap over the knuckles because he had not smelt it out himself. Leaders, accomplices, date, place, and strategy the old boy had 'em all by rote. Your Judas is a thorough fellow, Ann. Can you put a name to him?"

we had best leave it at that, for I know none of these gentlemen except Jack, and who am I to sow scandal and dissension among a happy family? Let them eat, drink, and be merry, like good little Jacobites, for to-morrow" He ended with a shrug.

The girl understood that on this subject he would say no more. So far, indeed, their discussion had been most remarkable for what they left unsaid. Each had dealt in allusions, taking for granted the other's comprehension. This was a habit of a generation bred to caution in a world where political plotting and spying was as much a part of the general order of things as eating and drinking. It penetrated family life and every stratum of of society. Neighbours, friends, kinsfolk — all must be handled gingerly, like so many explosives. There might be among them a Fenwick or a Ferguson, a Ker of Kersland or a Simon Fraser, an Atterbury or a Bolingbroke. In such an atmosphere curiosity was the worst manners, and from a chance expression of opinion disgrace or ruin might ensue. Nor, since all plots were of one kind, was there any cause for Ann and her old playmate to be more explicit. After 1688, a plot meant a Jacobite plot, and no more about it need be said.

There was now between the pair a tacit agreement to play the game according to the rules on her part to refrain

from pushing questions le Chemineau did not wish to answer; on his neither to demand nor expect from her any active betrayal of her brother and his friends. On these conditions, their understanding was already complete. In her heart Ann trusted him entirely, and looked to him, as if he were omnipotent, to disperse for ever the evils besetting her and her brother. But she was still shaken and terrified by the discovery of the latter's imminent peril; and, brushing aside the causes of the disaster, she fastened again upon the fact itself.

“Oh, what shall we do? Have you truly come to help us, Charles?"

"For what else?" said he. "We will cheat them all yet, Ann-King James of his recruits and King George of his vengeance. But let us get it clear between ourselves. You are for neither, but only for King Jack?"

"Yes, yes!" Ann cried. "Oh, what do I care for their stupid kings?"

"A whole political philosophy in a nutshell! Well, I am for King Jack also, but even more for Queen Ann. And that, I'm thinking, is the sanest and most binding allegiance of them all." As he smiled whimsically down at her, even amid her terrors something quickened the beating of her heart and brought the lovely colour again to her pale face." "Lud, though," the Captain added drily, "speaking of King George, I doubt if this

He broke off to stare up the gardens at the great house. From under the towering portico of the main door three figures had issued forth on to the topmost terrace. At that distance, and beneath that vast façade, they looked dwarfed to the size of toys—a toy in brown, a toy in dark blue, and a toy in professional black, whose white wig caught the sunlight.

"Here comes brother Jack and two henchmen," said le Chemineau. "Who are they, Ann?"

The girl's gaze had followed his. She leaned involuntarily against him, as if to draw from him courage for a coming ordeal.

"The tall man is Sir Bevil," she said, "and the other a Dr M'Leod, from London."

knew, with no more notion in my head of plots and politics than your spaniels here. I am come to pick up a few poor sailormen your Mr Hanaper has in keeping, and took the chance to see my old friends again. Which is the truthif not all of it. And now forward, child, and keep a brave heart. For St George and merry England, fal-lal-la!"

And, arm-in-arm, they ascended the shallow steps of the first terrace towards the trio that was already quitting the further one to meet them.

The gardens being designed in a geometrical pattern, it was in the middle terrace that they met, where a sunk basin, octagonal in shape and perpetually replenished by a fountain upheld by Nereids, formed a centre piece to the formal array. Here Mr Cressey, with many expressions of surprise and delight, discovered in the visitor his old boon companion. If the performance lacked something of spontaneity-for Jack, like his sister Ann, made a poor conspirator, the Captain was diplomatically blind; and there was enough of genuine feeling on both sides to carry off the situation. The introductions were achieved with creditable ease, and the simple seaman was charmed and honoured to meet Sir Bevil Rainborough and

Dr Hew M'Leod, and involved himself in so many bows and felicitations that any slight circumstances of embarrassment were swept away in the flood. Sir Bevil, whose manner was curt, maintained an air of watchfulness; but the doctor returned bow for bow and smirk for smirk with the assiduity of a sycophant.

Not forty-eight hours had passed since le Chemineau first heard these gentlemen's names; but his uncle had sketched their careers, appearance, and probable future in a descriptive passage in the best Whig manner. And now, while the young man rattled on, monopolising the stage with a perfect assumption of irresponsible affability, his wits and eyesight were supplementing this information