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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of His Lordship's Leopard, by David Dwight Wells
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: His Lordship's Leopard
+       A Truthful Narration of Some Impossible Facts
+
+Author: David Dwight Wells
+
+Release Date: January 6, 2010 [EBook #30873]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HIS LORDSHIP'S LEOPARD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced from
+scanned images of public domain material from the Google
+Print project.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+HER LADYSHIP'S ELEPHANT
+
+
+By DAVID DWIGHT WELLS. With cover by WM. NICHOLSON, 10th Impression.
+12mo. $1.25.
+
+A very humorous story, dealing with English society, growing out of
+certain experiences of the author while a member of our Embassy in
+London. The elephant's experiences, also, are based on facts.
+
+_The Nation_: "He is probably funny because he cannot help it.... Again
+and again excites spontaneous laughter, is such a boon that its author
+must consent to be regarded as a benefactor of his kind without
+responsibility."
+
+_New York Tribune_: "Mr. Wells allows his sense of humor to play about
+the personalities of half a dozen men and women whose lives, for a few
+brief, extraordinary days, are inextricably intertwined with the life of
+the aforesaid monarch of the jungle.... Smacks of fun which can be
+created by clever actors placed in excruciatingly droll situations."
+
+_Philadelphia Times_: "As breezy a bit of fiction as the reading public
+has lately been offered. Amusing from the first page to the last, unique
+in conception, and absolutely uproarious in plot."
+
+_New York Commercial Advertiser_: "A really delicious chain of
+absurdities which are based upon American independence and impudence;
+... exceedingly amusing."
+
+_Outlook_: "Full of amusing situations."
+
+_Buffalo Express_: "So amusing is the book that the reader is almost too
+tired to laugh when the elephant puts in his appearance."
+
+
+HENRY HOLT & CO.
+New York.
+
+
+
+
+HIS LORDSHIP'S LEOPARD
+
+_A TRUTHFUL NARRATION OF
+SOME IMPOSSIBLE FACTS_
+
+
+BY
+DAVID DWIGHT WELLS
+_Author of "Her Ladyship's Elephant"_
+
+
+NEW YORK
+HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
+1900
+
+
+Copyright, 1900,
+BY
+HENRY HOLT & CO.
+
+
+
+
+WARNING!
+
+
+The ensuing work is a serious attempt to while away an idle hour. The
+best criticism that the author received of "Her Ladyship's Elephant" was
+from an old lady who wrote him that it had made her forget a toothache;
+the most discouraging, from a critic who approached the book as _serious
+literature_ and treated it according to the standards of _the higher
+criticism_.
+
+The author takes this occasion to state that he has never been guilty of
+writing literature, serious or otherwise, and that if any one considers
+this book a fit subject for the application of the higher criticism, he
+will treat it as a just ground for an action for libel.
+
+If the _minimum opus_ possesses an intrinsic value, it lies in the
+explanation of the whereabouts of a Spanish gunboat, which, during our
+late unpleasantness with Spain, the yellow journalists insisted was
+patrolling the English Channel, in spite of the fact that the U. S.
+Board of Strategy knew that every available ship belonging to that
+nation was better employed somewhere else.
+
+Should this _exposé_ ruffle another English see, so much the worse for
+the Bishop.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+PART I.
+
+_AMERICA_.
+
+  CHAPTER I.
+
+                                                                    PAGE
+
+  IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH ACHIEVES FAME, AND THE "DAILY LEADER" A
+  "SCOOP"                                                              3
+
+  CHAPTER II.
+
+  IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH ATTEMPTS TO DRIVE PUBLIC OPINION          18
+
+  CHAPTER III.
+
+  IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH DRIVES A BLACK MARIA                      36
+
+  CHAPTER IV.
+
+  IN WHICH THE BLACK MARIA RECEIVES A NEW INMATE                      54
+
+  CHAPTER V.
+
+  IN WHICH THE PARTY RECEIVES A NEW IMPETUS                           72
+
+  CHAPTER VI.
+
+  IN WHICH THE BISHOP OF BLANFORD RECEIVES A BLACK EYE                92
+
+  CHAPTER VII.
+
+  IN WHICH A LINE IS DRAWN AND CROSSED                               107
+
+  CHAPTER VIII.
+
+  IN WHICH A LOCKET IS ACCEPTED AND A RING REFUSED                   131
+
+
+PART II.
+
+_ENGLAND_.
+
+  CHAPTER I.
+
+  IN WHICH MRS. MACKINTOSH ADMIRES JONAH                             151
+
+  CHAPTER II.
+
+  IN WHICH THE ENEMY ARRIVES                                         173
+
+  CHAPTER III.
+
+  IN WHICH PEACE IS PROPOSED AND WAR DECLARED                        198
+
+  CHAPTER IV.
+
+  IN WHICH THE BISHOP IS ABDUCTED                                    222
+
+  CHAPTER V.
+
+  IN WHICH THE BISHOP EATS JAM TART, AND MISS MATILDA HUMBLE-PIE     250
+
+  CHAPTER VI.
+
+  IN WHICH MISS ARMINSTER PROPOSES TO MARRY AGAIN                    269
+
+  CHAPTER VII.
+
+  IN WHICH MISS ARMINSTER VERIFIES THE PROVERB                       288
+
+
+
+
+PART I.
+
+
+_AMERICA_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH ACHIEVES FAME AND THE "DAILY LEADER" A
+"SCOOP."
+
+
+Cecil Banborough stood at one of the front windows of a club which faced
+on Fifth Avenue, his hands in his pockets, and a cigarette in his mouth,
+idly watching the varied life of the great thoroughfare. He had returned
+to the city that morning after a two weeks' absence in the South, and,
+having finished his lunch, was wondering how he could manage to put in
+the time till the 4:30 express left for Meadowbrook. 2 P.M., he
+reflected ruefully, was an hour when New York had no use and no
+resources for men of leisure like himself.
+
+Yet even for a mere onlooker the panorama of the street was of unusual
+interest. The avenue was ablaze with bunting, which hurrying thousands
+pointed out to their companions, while every street-corner had its
+little group of citizens, discussing with feverish energy and gestures
+of ill-concealed disquietude the situation of which the gay flags were
+the outward and visible sign. For in these latter days of April, 1898, a
+first-class Republic had, from purely philanthropic motives, announced
+its intention of licking a third-rate Monarchy into the way it should
+go. Whereat the good citizens had flung broadcast their national emblem
+to express a patriotic enthusiasm they did not feel, while the wiser
+heads among them were already whispering that the war was not merely
+unjustifiable, but might be expensive.
+
+All these matters, important as they doubtless were, did not interest
+Cecil Banborough, and indeed were quite dwarfed by the fact that this
+uncalled-for war had diverted the press from its natural functions, and
+for the time being had thrown utterly into the shade his new sensational
+novel, "The Purple Kangaroo." His meditations were, however,
+interrupted by the sound of voices using perfectly good English, but
+with an accent which bespoke a European parentage.
+
+"'The Purple Kangaroo,'" said one. "It is sufficiently striking--_Si,
+Señor_?"
+
+"It serves the purpose well, _mi amigo_," replied the other. "It is, as
+you say, striking; indeed nothing better could be devised; while its
+reputation--" And the voices died away.
+
+Cecil swung rapidly round. Two gentlemen, slight, swarthy, and evidently
+of a Latin race, were moving slowly down the long drawing-room. They
+were foreigners certainly, Spaniards possibly, but they had spoken of
+his book in no modified terms of praise. He drew a little sigh of
+satisfied contentment and turned again to the street. Ah, if his father,
+the Bishop of Blanford, could have heard!
+
+The two foreigners had meanwhile continued their conversation, though
+out of earshot. The elder was speaking.
+
+"As you say, its reputation is so slight," he said, "one of those
+ephemeral productions that are forgotten in a day, that it will serve
+our purpose well. We must have a password--the less noticeable the
+better. When do you return to Washington?"
+
+"The Legation may be closed at any moment now," replied the younger,
+seating himself carelessly on the arm of a Morris chair, "and I may be
+wanted. I go this afternoon, _a dios y a ventura_."
+
+"Softly; not so loud."
+
+"There's no one to hear. Keep us informed, I say. I'll see to the rest.
+We've our secret lines of communication nearly complete. They may turn
+us out of their capital, but--we shall know what passes. _Carramba!_
+What is that?" For, in leaning back, the speaker had come against an
+unresisting body.
+
+Springing up and turning quickly round, he saw that the chair on the arm
+of which he had been sitting was already occupied by the slumbering form
+of a youngish man with clear-cut features and a voluminous golden
+moustache.
+
+"_Madre de Dios!_ Could he have heard?" exclaimed the younger man,
+moving away.
+
+"_Malhaya!_ No!" replied the other. "These pigs of Americanos who sleep
+at noonday hear nothing! Come!" And, casting a glance of concentrated
+contempt at the huddled-up figure, he put his arm through that of his
+companion, and together they left the room.
+
+A moment later the sleeper sat up, flicked a speck of dust off his
+coat-sleeve, and, diving into a pocket, produced a note-book and blue
+pencil and began to write rapidly. Evidently his occupation was a
+pleasant one, for a broad smile illumined his face.
+
+"Ah, Marchmont," said Banborough, coming towards him, "didn't know you'd
+waked up."
+
+"Was I asleep?"
+
+"Rather. Don't suppose you saw those Spanish Dons who went out just
+now?"
+
+"Spaniards?" queried Marchmont, with a preoccupied air. "What about
+'em?"
+
+"Oh, nothing in particular, only I supposed that a Spaniard to a yellow
+journalist was like a red rag to a bull. You should make them into
+copy--'Conspiracy in a Fifth Avenue Club,' etc."
+
+"Thanks," said the other, "so I might. Valuable suggestion." And he
+returned his note-book to his pocket.
+
+"They did me a good turn, anyway," resumed Banborough. "They were
+talking about my book--thought it would serve its purpose, was very
+striking, said nothing better could be devised; and they were
+foreigners, too. I tell you what it is, Marchmont, the public will wake
+up to the merits of 'The Purple Kangaroo' some day. Why doesn't the
+_Daily Leader_ notice it?"
+
+"My dear Cecil, give me the space and I'll write a critique the fulsome
+flattery of which will come up to even your exacting demands. But just
+at present we're so busy arousing popular enthusiasm that we really
+haven't time."
+
+"You never do have time," replied Banborough, a trifle petulantly,
+"except for sleeping after lunch."
+
+"Ah, that's all in the day's work. But tell me. You're an Englishman;
+why didn't you publish your book in your own country?"
+
+"I may be green, but I don't impart confidences to an American
+journalist."
+
+"Nonsense! I never betray my friends' confidences when it's not worth--I
+should say, out of business hours."
+
+The Englishman laughed.
+
+"Oh, if you don't think it worth while," he said, "I suppose there's no
+danger, so I'll confess that my literary exile is purely to oblige my
+father."
+
+"The Bishop of Blanford?"
+
+"The Bishop of Blanford, who has the bad taste to disapprove of 'The
+Purple Kangaroo.'"
+
+"Has he ever read it?"
+
+"Of course not; the ecclesiastical mind is nothing if not dogmatic."
+
+"My dear fellow, I was only trying to assign a reason."
+
+"Chaff away, but it's principally my Aunt Matilda."
+
+"The Bishop, I remember, is a widower."
+
+"Rather. My aunt keeps house for him."
+
+"Ah, these aunts!" exclaimed the journalist. "They make no end of
+trouble--and copy."
+
+"It's not so bad as that," said Cecil; "but she rules the governor with
+a rod of iron, and she kicked up such a row about my book that I dropped
+the whole show."
+
+"Don't correspond with 'em?"
+
+"Not on my side. I receive occasional sermons from Blanford."
+
+"Which remain unanswered?"
+
+Cecil nodded, and changed the subject.
+
+"You know my father's cathedral?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, yes. The verger prevented my chipping off a bit of the high altar
+as a memento the last time I was over. You English are so beastly
+conservative. Not that the Bishop had anything to do with it."
+
+Banborough laughed, and returned to the charge.
+
+"So I came abroad," he continued, "and approached the most respectable
+and conservative firm of publishers I could find in New York."
+
+"Was that out of consideration for the Bishop?"
+
+"I thought it might sweeten the pill. But somehow the book doesn't
+sell."
+
+"Advertising, my boy--that's the word."
+
+"The traditions of the firm forbid it," objected Banborough.
+
+"Traditions! What's any country less than a thousand years old got to do
+with traditions?" spluttered Marchmont. "I knew a Chicago author who got
+a divorce every time he produced a new novel. They sold like hot cakes."
+
+"And the wives?"
+
+"Received ten per cent. of the profits as alimony."
+
+"Talk sense, and say something scandalous about me in the _Leader_. What
+possessed you, anyway, to join such a disgraceful sheet?"
+
+"If I'd an entailed estate and an hereditary bishopric, I wouldn't. As
+it is, it pays."
+
+"The bishopric isn't hereditary," said Cecil. "I wish it were. Then I
+might have a chance of spending my life in the odour of sanctity and
+idleness, and the entail is--a dream."
+
+"So you write novels," retorted Marchmont, "that are neither indecent
+nor political, and expect 'em to succeed. Callow youth! Well, I must be
+off to the office. I've some copy up my sleeve, and if it's a go it'll
+give your book the biggest boom a novel ever had."
+
+"Are you speaking the truth?" said the Englishman. "I beg your pardon. I
+forgot it was out of professional hours."
+
+"Wait and see," replied the journalist, as he strolled out of the club.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Hi, Marchmont, I've got a detail for you!" called the editor, making
+the last correction on a belated form and attempting to revivify a cigar
+that had long gone out.
+
+"Yes?" queried Marchmont, slipping off his coat and slipping on a pair
+of straw cuffs, which was the chief reason why he always sported
+immaculate linen.
+
+"We're on the track of a big thing. Perhaps you don't know that the
+President has delivered an ultimatum, and that our Minister at Madrid
+has received his passports?"
+
+"Saw it on the bulletin-board as I came in," said his subordinate
+laconically.
+
+"Well, it's a foregone conclusion that the Spanish Legation will
+establish a secret service in this country, and the paper that shows it
+up will achieve the biggest scoop on record."
+
+"Naturally. But what then?"
+
+"Why, I give the detail to you. You don't seem to appreciate the
+situation, man. It's the chance of a lifetime."
+
+"Quite so," replied Marchmont, lighting a cigarette.
+
+"But you can't lose a minute."
+
+"Oh, yes, I can--two or three. Time for a smoke, and then I'll write you
+a first-column article that'll call for the biggest caps you have in
+stock."
+
+"But I-- What the-- Say, you know something!"
+
+"I know that the secret service has been organised, I know the
+organisers, and I know the password."
+
+Here Marchmont's chief became unquotable, lapsing into unlimited
+profanity from sheer joy and exultation.
+
+"I'll give you a rise if you pull this off!" he exclaimed, after hearing
+the recital of the events at the club. "May I be"--several things--"if I
+don't! Now what are you going to do about it?"
+
+"Suppose we inform the nearest police station, have the crowd arrested,
+and take all the glory ourselves."
+
+"Suppose we shut up shop and take a holiday," suggested the chief, with
+a wealth of scorn.
+
+"Well, what have you to propose?"
+
+"We must work the whole thing through our detective agency."
+
+"But we haven't a detective agency," objected Marchmont.
+
+"But we will have before sunset," said the chief. "There's O'Brien--"
+
+"Yes. Chucked from Pinkerton's force for habitual drunkenness,"
+interjected his subordinate.
+
+"Just so," said the editor, "and anxious to get a job in consequence.
+He'll be only too glad to run the whole show for us. The city shall be
+watched, and the first time 'The Purple Kangaroo' is used in a
+suspicious sense we'll arrest the offenders, discover the plot, and the
+_Daily Leader_, as the defender of the nation and the people's bulwark,
+will increase its circulation a hundred thousand copies! It makes me
+dizzy to think of it! I tell you what it is, Marchmont, that
+subeditorship is still vacant, and if you put this through, the place is
+yours."
+
+The reporter grasped his chief's hand.
+
+"That's white of you, boss," he said, "and I'll do it no matter what it
+costs or who gets hurt in the process."
+
+"Right you are!" cried his employer. "The man who edits this paper has
+got to hustle. Now don't let the grass grow under your feet, and we'll
+have a drink to celebrate."
+
+When the chief offers to set up a _sub_ it means business, and Marchmont
+was elated accordingly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At the Club the Bishop's son still contemplated the Avenue from the
+vantage-point of the most comfortable armchair the room possessed.
+Praise, he reflected, which was not intended for the author's ear was
+praise indeed. No man could tell to what it might lead. No one indeed,
+Cecil Banborough least of all, though he was destined to find out before
+he was many hours older; for down in the editorial sanctum of the _Daily
+Leader_ O'Brien was being instructed:
+
+"And if you touch a drop during the next week," reiterated the chief,
+"I'll put a head on you!"
+
+"But supposin' this dago conspiracy should turn out to be a fake?"
+objected the Irishman.
+
+"Then," said the reporter with determination, "you'll have to hatch one
+yourself, and I'll discover it. But two things are certain. Something's
+got to be exposed, and I've got to get that editorship."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH ATTEMPTS TO DRIVE PUBLIC OPINION.
+
+
+It is a trifle chilly in the early morning, even by the first of May,
+and Cecil shivered slightly as he paced the rustic platform at
+Meadowbrook with his publisher and host of the night before.
+
+"You see," the great man was saying, "there's an etiquette about all
+these things. We can't advertise our publications in the elevated trains
+like tomato catsup or the latest thing in corsets. It's not dignified.
+The book must succeed, if at all, through the recognised channels of
+criticism and on its own merits. Of course it's a bad season. But once
+the war's well under way, people will give up newspapers and return to
+literature."
+
+"Meantime it wants a boom," contended the young Englishman, with an
+insistence that apparently jarred on his hearer, who answered shortly:
+
+"And that, Mr. Banborough, it is not in my power to give your book, or
+any other man's."
+
+There was an element of finality about this remark which seemed to
+preclude further conversation, and Cecil took refuge in the morning
+paper till the train pulled into the Grand Central Station, when the two
+men shook hands and parted hurriedly, the host on his daily rush to the
+office, the guest to saunter slowly up the long platform, turning over
+in his mind the problems suggested by his recent conversation.
+
+The busy life of the great terminus grated upon him, and that is perhaps
+the reason why his eye rested with a sense of relief on a little group
+of people who, like himself, seemed to have nothing particular to do.
+They were six in number, two ladies and four gentlemen, and stood
+quietly discussing some interesting problem, apparently unconscious of
+the hurrying crowds which were surging about them.
+
+Cecil approached them slowly, and was about to pass on when his
+attention and footsteps were suddenly arrested by hearing the younger of
+the two ladies remark in a plaintive voice:
+
+"But that doesn't help us to get any breakfast, Alvy."
+
+"No, or dinner either," added the elder lady.
+
+"Well," rejoined the gentleman addressed as "Alvy," who, in contrast to
+the frock coats and smart tailor-made gowns of his three companions,
+wore an outing suit, a short overcoat of box-cloth, a light, soft hat,
+and a rather pronounced four-in-hand tie. "Well, I'm hungry myself, as
+far as that goes."
+
+Banborough was astonished. These fashionably dressed people in need of a
+meal? Impossible! And yet--he turned to look at them again. No, they
+were not quite gentlefolk. There was _something_-- He stumbled and
+nearly fell over a dress-suit case, evidently belonging to one of the
+party, and marked in large letters, "H. Tybalt Smith. A. B. C.
+Company."
+
+Actors, of course. That explained the situation--and the clothes.
+Another company gone to pieces, and its members landed penniless and in
+their costumes. It was too bad, and the young woman was so very
+good-looking. If only he had some legitimate excuse for going to their
+assistance.
+
+Suddenly he stood motionless, petrified. An idea had occurred to him,
+the boldness and originality of which fairly took his breath away. "The
+Purple Kangaroo" wanted advertising, and his publishers refused to help
+him. Well, why should he not advertise it himself? To think was to act.
+Already the company were starting in a listless, dispirited way towards
+the door. The Englishman summoned all his resolution to his aid, and,
+overcoming his insular reticence, approached the leader of the party,
+asking if he were Mr. Smith.
+
+"H. Tybalt Smith, at your service, sir," replied that portly and
+imposing individual.
+
+Cecil Banborough bowed low.
+
+"I hope you'll not think me intrusive," he said, "but I judge that
+you're not now engaged, and as I'm at present in want of the services of
+a first-class theatrical company, I ventured to address you."
+
+"The manager skipped last evening," remarked the man in mufti.
+
+"Alvy," corrected Mr. Smith, "I will conduct these negotiations. As Mr.
+Spotts says, sir," he continued, indicating the last speaker, "with a
+colloquialism that is his distinguishing characteristic, our manager is
+not forthcoming, and--a--er--temporary embarrassment has resulted, so
+that we should gladly accept the engagement you offer, provided it is
+not inconsistent with the demands of art."
+
+"Oh, cut it short, Tyb," again interrupted the ingenuous Spotts.
+
+Mr. Smith cast a crushing glance at the youth, and, laying one hand
+across his ample chest, prepared to launch a withering denunciation at
+him, when Cecil came to the rescue.
+
+"I was about to suggest," he said, "that if you've not yet breakfasted
+you would all do so with me, and we can then discuss this matter at
+length."
+
+Mr. Smith's denunciation died upon his lips, and a smile of ineffable
+contentment lighted up his face.
+
+"Sir," he said, "we are obliged--vastly obliged. I speak collectively."
+And he waved one flabby hand towards his companions. "I have not,
+however, the honour of knowing your name."
+
+Cecil handed him his card.
+
+"Ah, thanks. Mr. Banborough. Exactly. Permit me to introduce myself: H.
+Tybalt Smith, Esq., tragedian of the A. B. C. Company. My companions are
+Mr. Kerrington, the heavy villain; Mr. Mill, the leading serious. Our
+juvenile, Mr. G. Alvarado Spotts, has already sufficiently introduced
+himself. The ladies are Mrs. Mackintosh, our senior legitimate,"
+indicating the elder of the two, who smilingly acknowledged the
+introduction in such a good-natured, hearty manner that for the moment
+her plain, almost rugged New England countenance was lighted up and she
+became nearly handsome. "And," continued Mr. Smith, "our leading lady,
+the Leopard-- I mean Miss Violet Arminster," pointing to the bewitching
+young person in the tailor-made gown.
+
+Each of the members bowed as his or her name was spoken, and the
+tragedian continued:
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen of the A. B. C. Company, I have much pleasure in
+introducing to you--my friend--Mr. Cecil Banborough, who has kindly
+invited you to breakfast at--the Murray Hill? Shall we say the Murray
+Hill? Yes."
+
+The ensuing hour having been given up to the serious pursuit of
+satisfying healthy appetites, the members of the A. B. C. Company heaved
+sighs of pleasurable repletion, and prepared to listen to their host's
+proposition in a highly optimistic mood. Banborough, who had already
+sufficiently breakfasted, employed the interval of the meal in talking
+to Miss Arminster and in studying his guests. Mrs. Mackintosh, who
+seemed to take a motherly interest in the charming Violet, and whose
+honest frankness had appealed to him from the first, appeared to be the
+good genius of the little company. As he came to know her better during
+the next few days, under the sharp spur of adversity, he realised more
+and more how much goodness and strength of character lay hidden under
+the rough exterior and the sharp tongue, and his liking changed into an
+honest admiration. Mr. Smith was ponderous and egotistical to the last
+degree, while Spotts seemed hail-fellow-well-met, the jolliest,
+brightest, most good-looking and resourceful youth that Cecil had met
+for many a long day. The other two men were the most reserved of the
+company, saying little, and devoting themselves to their meal. But it
+was to Miss Arminster that he found himself especially attracted. From
+the first moment that he saw her she had exercised a fascination over
+him, and even his desire for the success of his book gave way to his
+anxiety for her comfort and happiness. She was by no means difficult to
+approach; they soon were chatting gaily together, and by the time the
+repast was finished were quite on the footing of old friends--so much
+so, indeed, that Cecil ventured to ask her a question which had been
+uppermost in his mind for some time.
+
+"Why did Mr. Smith call you the Leopard when he introduced you to me at
+the station?" he said.
+
+"Oh," she answered, laughing, "that's generally the last bit of
+information my friends get about me. It has terminated my acquaintance
+with a lot of gentlemen. Do you think you'd better ask it, just when we
+are beginning to know one another?"
+
+"Are you another Lohengrin," he said, "and will a white swan come and
+carry you off as soon as you've told me?"
+
+"More probably a cable-car," she replied, "seeing we're in New York."
+
+"Then I shall defer the evil day as long as possible," he answered.
+
+"You seem to forget," she returned, "that I don't know as yet what our
+business relations are to be."
+
+"And you seem to forget," he replied, "that there are still some
+strawberries left on that dish."
+
+She sighed regretfully, saying:
+
+"I'm afraid they must go till next time--if there's to be a next time."
+
+Banborough vowed to himself that instead of confining the advertisement
+of his book to the city alone, he would extend it to Harlem and
+Brooklyn--yes, and to all New York State, if need be, rather than forego
+the delight of her society.
+
+"Isn't your father an English bishop?" continued Miss Arminster,
+interrupting his reverie.
+
+"Now how on earth did you know that?" exclaimed Cecil.
+
+The little actress laughed.
+
+"Oh, I know a lot of things," she said. "But I was merely going to
+suggest that we call you 'Bishop' for short. Banborough's much too long
+a name for ordinary use. What do you say, boys?" turning to the men of
+the company.
+
+A chorus of acclamation greeted this sally, and to the members of the
+A. B. C. Company Cecil Banborough was 'the Bishop' from that hour.
+
+"And now," said the Englishman, "that you've christened me, suppose we
+come to the business in hand?"
+
+Every one was at once intently silent.
+
+"I am," he continued, "the author of 'The Purple Kangaroo.'"
+
+The silence became deeper. The audience were politely impressed, and the
+heavy villain did a bit of dumb show with the leading serious, which
+only needed to have been a trifle better to have proved convincing.
+
+"Yet," continued the author, "owing to the popular interest in an
+imminent war and a lack of energy on the part of my publishers, the book
+doesn't sell."
+
+"Impossible!" exclaimed Mr. Smith. "Impossible! Why, I was saying only
+the other day to Henry Irving, 'Hen,' I said--I call him 'Hen' for
+short,--'that book--'"
+
+"What you say doesn't cut any ice," broke in Spotts. "What were you
+saying, sir?"
+
+"I was about to remark," continued Banborough, "that what the novel
+needs is advertising. For an author to make the round of the shops is so
+old an artifice that any tradesman would see through it."
+
+"It is," interjected the tragedian. "I have more than once demanded the
+lower right-hand box when I was playing the leading rôle."
+
+"And always got it," added Spotts. The silence was appalling, and Cecil
+rushed into the breach, saying:
+
+"It's occurred to me, however, that if a number of people, apparently in
+different walks of life, were to call at the various bookshops and
+department stores of the city, demanding copies of 'The Purple
+Kangaroo,' and refusing to be satisfied with excuses, it might create a
+market for the book."
+
+"A first-rate idea!" cried Spotts heartily.
+
+"But supposing it was in stock?" suggested the more cautious duenna.
+
+"I shall of course see you're provided with funds for such an
+emergency," the author hastened to add; "and if you ladies and gentlemen
+feel that you could canvass the city thoroughly in my interests at--ten
+dollars a day and car-fares?" he ventured, fearing he had offered too
+little.
+
+"I should rather think we do," said Spotts emphatically. "Ten dollars a
+day and car-fares is downright luxury compared with one-night stands and
+a salary that doesn't get paid. You're a might good fellow, Mr.
+Banborough," continued the young actor, "and Violet and I and the rest
+of the company will do our best to make your book a howling success."
+And as he spoke he laid his hand familiarly on the little actress's
+shoulder, an action which did not altogether please Cecil, and made him
+realise that in the attractive young comedian he had found a strong
+rival for Miss Arminster's favour.
+
+"Well, then, we'll consider it settled," he said; whereat the company
+arose and clasped his hands silently. Their satisfaction was too deep
+for words. Spotts was the first to rouse himself to action.
+
+"Come," he said, "we mustn't lose any time. Your interests are ours now,
+Mr. Banborough, and the sooner we get to work the more thoroughly we'll
+earn our salary," and touching a bell, he said to the answering
+messenger:
+
+"Bring me a New York directory," thereby showing an honest activity
+which was much appreciated by his employer.
+
+An hour later, the company, fully primed, departed joyfully on their
+mission.
+
+Banborough, rich in the comforting sense of a good morning's work well
+accomplished, retired to his club to dream of the success of his book.
+In spirit he visited the book-stalls, noting the growing concern of the
+clerks as they were obliged to turn away customer after customer who
+clamoured for "The Purple Kangaroo." He saw the hurried consultations
+with the heads of firms, who at length realised their blind stupidity
+in neglecting to stock their shelves with the success of the season. He
+saw the dozens of orders which poured into the publishing house, and
+heard in fancy that sweetest of all announcements that can fall upon an
+author's ears: "My dear sir, we have just achieved another edition."
+
+So dreaming, he was rudely awakened by a slap on the shoulder, and the
+cheerful voice of Marchmont, saying:
+
+"Who's asleep this time?"
+
+"Not I," replied his friend, "only dreaming."
+
+"Of the success of 'The Purple Kangaroo'?" asked the journalist. "Well,
+you'll have it, old man--see if you don't--and live to bless the name of
+Marchmont and the _Daily Leader_. Why, thousands will be reading your
+book before the week's out."
+
+"What do you mean?" gasped the Englishman. "Surely you don't know--?"
+For he feared the discovery of his little plot.
+
+"Know!" replied the journalist. "I know that your book has leaped at one
+bound from fiction to the exalted sphere of politics. Now don't you
+breathe a word of this, for it's professional, but the Spanish
+secret-service agents have taken the title of your novel as their
+password. The city is watched by our own special corps of detectives,
+and the instant 'The Purple Kangaroo' is used in a suspicious sense we
+arrest the spies and unravel the plot."
+
+"But, good heavens, man! You don't understand--" began Banborough.
+
+"I understand it all. I tell you the _Daily Leader_ will not shrink from
+its duty. It'll leave no stone unturned to hound the offenders down. I
+dare say they may be making arrests even now, and once started, we'll
+never pause till every Spanish sympathiser who has knowledge of the plot
+is under lock and key."
+
+"Stop! Stop!" cried Cecil. "You don't know what you're doing!"
+
+"Oh, trust me for that, and think of the boom your book'll get. I'll
+make it my special care. I tell you 'The Purple Kangaroo' will be all
+the rage."
+
+"But you're making a ghastly mistake," insisted the author. "You must
+listen to me--"
+
+"Can't!" cried Marchmont, springing up as the sound of shouts and
+clanging bells fell upon his ear. "There's a fire! See you later!" and
+he dashed out of the club and was gone.
+
+Cecil sank back in his chair fairly paralysed.
+
+"Good heavens! Suppose any of the company should be suspected or
+arrested! Supposing--"
+
+"A gentleman to see you, sir," said a page at his elbow.
+
+"Show him in!" cried Banborough, fearing the worst, as he read Tybalt
+Smith's name on the card.
+
+There was no need to have given the message. The actor was at the page's
+heels, dishevelled, distraught.
+
+"Do you know we're taken for Spanish spies?" he gasped.
+
+"Yes, yes; I've just heard--"
+
+"But they've arrested--"
+
+"Not one of your companions--Spotts, Kerrington, or Mill?"
+
+"No," said the tragedian, shaking his head, "they've arrested Miss
+Arminster."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH DRIVES A BLACK MARIA.
+
+
+Cecil Banborough's feelings can be better imagined than described at the
+announcement of the calamity which had befallen Miss Arminster. The
+winsome ways of the charming Violet had impressed the young man more
+deeply than he knew until he was brought face to face with a realisation
+of the miseries to which his own folly had exposed her.
+
+"Where have they taken her?" he demanded of Smith as soon as his
+consternation could find expression.
+
+"She's at the police station round the corner from here."
+
+"Where did this occur?" asked Banborough.
+
+"On Fourteenth Street," replied Smith, "Spotts and I met Miss
+Arminster, and she called out as she passed me, 'Don't forget "The
+Purple Kangaroo!"' A minute later the police arrested her, and when the
+crowd heard that she was a Spanish spy, I swear I think they'd have torn
+her in pieces if the officers hadn't put her in a prison van and got her
+away."
+
+The tragedian paused, shivering from his recent agitation, and Cecil,
+seeing his condition, rang for some brandy.
+
+"But what does it all mean?" asked the actor, tossing off his drink.
+
+"I know what it means," cried Banborough, "but there's no time to talk
+now. We've not a moment to lose!" and he rushed downstairs.
+
+Spotts met them at the doorway, and, as they walked rapidly along, the
+young Englishman poured into his companions' ears an account of what he
+had learned from Marchmont of the Spanish plot and the unforeseen use
+which had been made of the title of his book, while the tragedian
+rehearsed again the story of Miss Arminster's arrest, of his own
+hair-breadth escape from the clutches of the law, of his prodigies of
+valour in connection with Spotts, whom he had met in his headlong
+flight, and who, it seemed, had prevailed on his more timid companion to
+follow the prisoner in a hansom.
+
+"It's a bad business," admitted Cecil; "but what's to be done?"
+
+"Done!" exclaimed Smith in tragic tones. "Why, rescue the lady instantly
+and leave the city without delay. In the present excited state of the
+public no amount of explanation will avail. We may all be arrested as
+confederates. We must act!"
+
+"You're talking sense for once," said Spotts. "Heroic measures are the
+only ones worth considering, and if you"--turning to Banborough--"will
+stand by us, we may come out on top after all."
+
+"You can depend on me to any extent," declared the young author. "I've
+got you into this scrape, and I'll do my best to get you out of it."
+
+"That's just what I expected of you, Bishop!" exclaimed Spotts, grasping
+his hand. "We can't waste time in talking. You must go and find the
+other members of the company, Tyb, and warn them of their danger. Now
+where can we rendezvous outside the city? Speak quickly, some one!"
+
+"The leading hotel in Yonkers," said Smith.
+
+"Right you are," replied Spotts. "Get there as soon as possible and wait
+for us to turn up. How about funds?"
+
+"I've plenty of ready money with me," volunteered Cecil, "and very
+fortunately a draft to my credit arrived to-day, which I've not yet
+cashed."
+
+"Good!" said Spotts. "We're in luck. Give Tyb fifty."
+
+Banborough whipped out a roll of bills and handed the desired amount to
+the tragedian without demur.
+
+"Now, off you go," cried his brother actor, "and keep your wits about
+you."
+
+Smith nodded and hailed a passing cab.
+
+"Come," said Spotts to the author, "we've no time to lose."
+
+"What's your plan?" asked Cecil as they swung round the corner and
+sighted the police station.
+
+"Haven't got any as yet. We'll see how the land lies first. The Black
+Maria's still before the door. That's lucky!"
+
+Sure enough, there it was, looking gloomily like an undertaker's wagon,
+minus the plate glass.
+
+"Must be hot inside," commented the actor, directing a glance at the two
+little grated slits high up in the folding doors at the back, which
+apparently formed the only means of ventilation.
+
+Cecil shuddered as he thought of the discomforts which the girl must be
+enduring, and longed to throw himself upon the vehicle and batter it to
+pieces. But calmer judgment prevailed, and controlling himself he
+approached the police station, saying:
+
+"Let me go first. You might be recognised. I'll try and find out where
+she's to be taken."
+
+He accordingly went up to the driver of the Black Maria, who, cap in
+hand, was wiping his perspiring forehead.
+
+"A fine pair of horses that," he said, indicating the mettlesome bays
+attached to the vehicle, which, in spite of their brisk run, were
+tossing their heads and fretting to be off.
+
+"Oh, they're good enough," was the curt reply. "A trifle fresh, but we
+need that in our business."
+
+"Something interesting on to-day?" queried Cecil.
+
+"Who the devil are you, anyway?" asked the driver abruptly. And the
+Englishman, lying boldly, replied:
+
+"I'm the new reporter on the _Daily Leader_. I was here last week with
+Mr. Marchmont on a burglary case."
+
+"Oh, the New Rochelle robbery," suggested the driver.
+
+Cecil acquiesced, drawing a quiet sigh of relief that his random shot
+had hit the mark.
+
+"Yes," he said, "that's it. I was introduced round, but I don't remember
+meeting you."
+
+"Might have been the other driver, Jim?"
+
+"Now I come to think of it, it was Jim."
+
+"Jus' so. Well, there's copy for you in this case."
+
+"So I imagined. It's your first political arrest, isn't it?"
+
+"That's where the hitch comes in," said the man. "I don't know where to
+deliver the prisoner. When the court's made up its mind they'll let me
+know, and I'll drive on. Now in the Civil War we sent them politicals to
+Fort Wadsworth."
+
+"So you have to wait till they decide?"
+
+"You bet I have. And there ain't no superfluity of shade on the sunny
+side of this street neither," replied the driver, as he slipped off his
+coat and hung it with his cap on a peg beside the box seat of the Black
+Maria.
+
+"Suppose you were to run into the court and see how they're getting on,"
+suggested Banborough, slipping a coin into his hand. "I want a word with
+the police when they've finished. Mention the _Daily Leader_. I'll
+watch your horses."
+
+"Oh, they'll stand quiet enough," said the man. Then, suspiciously,
+jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards Spotts, he asked: "Who's yer
+pal?"
+
+"Just a green hand whom I'm initiating into the business."
+
+"You're pretty green yourself or you wouldn't have set me up," said the
+driver. "But if you'll mind them horses I'll just run across to
+McCafferty's saloon and have a schooner of beer, and then drop into
+court for you."
+
+"All right," responded Cecil. "Only don't be all day; I've got another
+detail."
+
+"Say," rejoined the man, "I can put beer down quicker than you can
+wink." And he ran across the street.
+
+"Well, what's to be done?" demanded Banborough, as the man left them.
+
+"That's easily answered," replied Spotts. "When he's in court we'll jump
+on the box, drive for all we're worth till we've eluded pursuit, then
+rescue Miss Arminster and be off to Yonkers."
+
+"But that's laying ourselves open to arrest," expostulated the
+Englishman.
+
+"We've done that already," said his friend.
+
+"But they'll know we're not officials: we've no uniform."
+
+"What, not when the driver has obligingly left his hat and coat?" said
+Spotts. "Slip them on. You've dark trousers, and no one will suspect."
+
+"But driving fast--?" protested the author.
+
+"Well, we're going to a 'hurry call,' of course. You've no invention,
+man! And besides, I can't drive."
+
+"Oh, that doesn't matter," said Banborough. "I understand all about
+horses."
+
+"So I supposed, as you're an Englishman."
+
+"I don't care much for this business, you know," remonstrated the
+unfortunate author.
+
+"Neither do I," replied the actor. "But we might as well be killed for a
+sheep as a lamb, and we've a good chance of winning. Here comes the
+driver; give him a bluff."
+
+"I ain't lost much time," panted that individual as he passed them,
+wiping the foam from his moustache with the back of his hand, and
+adding: "I'll run right into court and be out again in a jiffy!"
+
+"Stay long enough to see how things are going," called Cecil.
+
+"All right! Guess the horses'll stand," he replied, and disappeared
+within the building.
+
+"Now, Bishop!" cried Spotts. And before the Englishman could think, his
+coat and hat had been whipped off and thrown on the box seat along with
+a small handbag which the actor carried, and he was being helped into
+the very hot and unsavoury clothes of the driver.
+
+"Lucky they fit you," said his friend. "Lead the horses carefully to the
+corner, and see they don't make more noise than necessary. If the driver
+should come out, you let 'em go; otherwise wait for me. Know where to
+drive?"
+
+"Along the park?"
+
+"No," said Spotts. "Double several times, then try one of the avenues to
+the Harlem River. There are plenty of bridges. Now, careful!" And as
+Cecil moved slowly off, leading the horses towards the upper corner, the
+actor lounged up to the entrance of the court, blocking the doorway with
+his athletic figure.
+
+After what seemed an eternity, Banborough achieved the corner of the
+block, and, mounting the box, turned the horses' heads down the side
+street, keeping an eagle eye upon the entrance of the court-room, within
+which his companion had now disappeared. Perhaps three minutes had
+elapsed when the actor came out, running quietly towards him so as not
+to attract attention. The street was well-nigh deserted, and no one
+seemed to have noticed the movements of the Black Maria.
+
+"Walk slowly till we're round the corner, and then drive for all you're
+worth!" gasped Spotts, springing on to the seat beside him.
+
+Cecil followed his directions implicitly, and a moment later they went
+tearing down the side street, and swung round the corner into an avenue,
+nearly colliding with a cable-car in the process, and causing a wild
+scatteration of passengers and pedestrians.
+
+"Here, that won't do!" cried the actor above the rattle occasioned by
+their rapid progress over the cobblestones. "Ring the bell, or we'll be
+arrested!"
+
+"Where?" called Banborough.
+
+"That knob under your feet. Press it!"
+
+The Englishman did as directed, and instantly the most hideous clamour
+arose beneath the carriage. The horses, which had been flying before,
+excited by the noise, put down their heads and tore blindly forward. The
+vehicle rocked and swayed, and the avenue and its occupants swept by in
+an indistinguishable blur.
+
+"They'll surely track us by the noise!" screamed Cecil, trying to make
+himself heard above the horrible din.
+
+"We're too far off by this time," returned Spotts. "Can you manage the
+horses?"
+
+"Oh, they're all right so long as we've a clear road!" yelled Banborough
+in reply.
+
+They were now well under way, the traffic ahead of them swerving wildly
+to right and left at the insistent clamour of the bell. They rushed
+forward by leaps and bounds, an occasional stretch of asphalt giving
+them an instant's respite from the dreadful shaking of the cobblestones.
+They spoke but little, excitement keeping them quiet, but the Englishman
+suffered keenly in spirit at the thought of what the delicate girl, shut
+up in that dark stifling prison behind them, must be undergoing.
+
+Suddenly in front of them loomed up the helmeted figure of a policeman,
+swinging his club and gesticulating wildly.
+
+"Run him down!" howled Spotts; and Cecil, who had caught some of the
+madness of their wild flight, lashed the horses afresh and hurled the
+Black Maria straight at the officer of the law.
+
+The constable, still gesticulating, made a hasty leap to one side, and
+they swept by a huge express-wagon which was coming up the
+cross-street, nearly grazing the noses of the rearing horses, and
+catching a glimpse of the driver's startled face.
+
+So they ran on and on, faster and faster as the traffic became less, and
+the pair of bays settled down in earnest to the race. Suddenly the
+street narrowed, and a confused mass of carts and horses seemed to block
+up the farther end. Banborough put on the brake, and with considerable
+difficulty succeeded in bringing his team to a standstill on the outer
+edge of the throng.
+
+"It's the Harlem River," cried Spotts, "and the drawbridge is up, curse
+the luck!"
+
+There was nothing for it but wait, and Cecil, jumping down, patted the
+horses and examined the harness to make sure that everything was all
+right.
+
+"You seem in a rush," said a neighbouring driver.
+
+"Hurry call to Harlem," replied Banborough brusquely.
+
+"Whereabouts?"
+
+"Oh, police station."
+
+"What station?"
+
+The Englishman grunted an inaudible reply as a forward movement of the
+crowd betokened that the bridge was again in position. A moment later
+they were trotting towards freedom and the open country, Cecil making
+the horses go slower now, wishing to reserve their strength for any
+unforeseen emergency.
+
+As the buildings grew more scattered, and patches of woodland appeared
+here and there, the actor began to discuss with his companion their plan
+of campaign.
+
+"The sooner we get Violet out of her prison," he said, "and leave this
+confounded vehicle behind, the better."
+
+"It's rather too well populated about here to suit me," replied
+Banborough. "But the police haven't been idle since we started, and our
+flight has probably been telegraphed all over the countryside. Perhaps
+we'd better run the risk, for if we're caught red-handed with the Black
+Maria we'll find some difficulty in proving our innocence."
+
+"Besides which, I'm anxious to get Miss Arminster out of durance vile as
+soon as possible, for I think the Leopard's been caged long enough,"
+said Spotts, laughing.
+
+"Why do you people insist on calling Miss Arminster the Leopard?" asked
+Banborough.
+
+"Oh," said his companion, "I think I'd better let you find that out for
+yourself. It would hardly be fair to Violet, and besides--" Then,
+breaking off suddenly as they entered a strip of woodland, he changed
+the conversation abruptly, saying: "Here's as good a place as we're
+likely to find--no houses in sight, and a clear view of the road in
+either direction." And as Cecil drew up the horses he jumped off the
+box.
+
+"How are you going to open the confounded thing?" asked the author.
+
+"Well," replied his companion, "I should think a key would be as good a
+method as any other."
+
+"The best, provided you've got the key."
+
+"I imagine you'll find it in the right-hand outside pocket of the
+driver's coat," said Spotts. "I thought I heard something jingle as I
+was helping you on with it."
+
+"Right you are," said the Englishman. "Here it is!" producing two
+nickel-plated keys on a ring. "Now we'll have her out in no time." And
+running round to the back of the vehicle, he unlocked the folding doors
+and threw them wide open, crying:
+
+"My dear Miss Arminster, accept your freedom and a thousand pardons for
+such rough treatment. What the--!" And he stopped short, too surprised
+to finish; for, instead of the petite form of the fascinating Violet,
+there shambled out on to the road the slouching figure of a disreputable
+tramp, clothed in nondescript garments of uncertain age and colour,
+terminating in a pair of broken boots, out of which protruded sockless
+feet. He had a rough shock of hair, surmounted by a soft hat full of
+holes, and a fat German face, whose ugliness was further enhanced by the
+red stubbly growth of a week's beard.
+
+"I guess youse gents has rescued me unbeknownst, and I'm much obleeged,
+though I don't know but what I'd rather break stones up to Sing Sing
+than be chucked round the way I has been for the last hour."
+
+"Who are you?" demanded Banborough.
+
+"Me?" said the figure. "Oh, I'm a anarchist."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+IN WHICH THE BLACK MARIA RECEIVES A NEW INMATE.
+
+
+At the sight of this astonishing and utterly unlooked-for personage, the
+actor and the Englishman stood for a moment gaping at each other in
+surprised silence. Then, as the full force of what they had done
+occurred to them, and they realised that, at great risk of life, limb,
+and freedom, they had rescued from the clutches of the law an utterly
+worthless tramp, they burst into peals of uncontrollable laughter.
+
+"But where's Violet?" gasped Spotts, who was the first to recover
+himself.
+
+"Oh, there's a lady in there, if you mean _her_," said the tramp,
+indicating the cavernous depths of the Black Maria.
+
+"Yes, I'm here all right," came the welcome tones of the little
+actress's voice. "I'll be out in just a moment, as soon as I've put
+myself straight. You're the most reckless drivers I ever saw."
+
+"I'm awfully sorry," said Banborough, approaching the door to help her
+out. "But circumstances didn't leave us much choice."
+
+"Apparently not," she replied, and a moment later stood in their midst,
+looking even more bewitching than usual in her dishevelled condition.
+Then as she drew a long breath, inhaling the fresh woodland air, and
+realising all the joy of her restored freedom, the eternal feminine
+reasserted itself, and, seizing both of Spotts's hands, she cried
+impetuously: "Look at me, Alvy, and tell me if my hat is straight."
+
+They all laughed, which broke the tension of the situation.
+
+"I don't know what you must think of us," said Banborough.
+
+"I thought I was being run away with at first," she said; "but when I
+heard Alvy's voice on the box I knew it must be all right."
+
+"Of course," continued Cecil, "we hadn't the least idea there was
+anybody else in the van."
+
+"Oh, I didn't mind so much," she said. "He was quite nice and
+respectful, and very soft to fall on. I guess he must be all black and
+blue from the number of times I hit him."
+
+"Well, you're safe, and that's the main thing," said Spotts.
+
+"But what does it all mean?" she demanded.
+
+"Oh, there's time enough for explanations later on," returned the actor.
+"We're not out of the woods yet."
+
+"Of course we aren't, stupid! Any one can see that."
+
+"Metaphorically, he means," said Cecil. "But, joking apart, this Black
+Maria is, so to speak _particeps criminis_, and the sooner we lose it
+the better."
+
+"Which way shall we go?" she asked.
+
+"Oh, that's been all arranged beforehand with the other members of the
+party," said Spotts, purposely omitting to mention their destination in
+the presence of their undesirable companion. "It can't be more than a
+mile or two across country to the Hudson River Railroad, and we'd better
+make for the nearest station. Do you feel up to walking?"
+
+"Do I feel up to walking!" she exclaimed. "Well, if you'd been chucked
+round for an hour without being consulted, I guess you'd feel like doing
+a little locomotion on your own account." And without another word the
+three turned to get their belongings.
+
+"Say," interjected the tramp, "where do I come in?"
+
+"Oh, but you don't," said Spotts. "We're going to leave you this
+beautiful carriage and pair with our blessing. Better take a drive in
+the country and enjoy the fresh air."
+
+"Yah!" snarled the disreputable one in reply. "That don't go! It's too
+thin! Why, look here, boss," he continued, addressing Banborough, "you
+went and 'scaped with me without so much as sayin' by your leave, and
+now, when you've gone and laid me open to extra time for evadin' of my
+penalty, you've got the cheek to propose to leave me alone in a cold
+world with _that_!" And he pointed expressively at the Black Maria.
+
+"It is rather hard lines," admitted Cecil. "But, you see, it would never
+do to have you with us, my man. Why, your clothes would give us away
+directly."
+
+"And I'll give yer away directly to the cops if you don't take me
+along."
+
+Banborough and Spotts looked at each other in redoubled perplexity.
+
+"You see," continued the anarchist, "I don't go for to blow on no blokes
+as has stood by me as youse has, but it's sink or swim together.
+Besides, you'd get lost in this country in no time, while I knows it
+well. Why, I burgled here as a boy."
+
+"What's to be done?" asked Cecil.
+
+"Oh, I suppose we've got to take him along," replied the actor. "We're
+all in the same boat, if it comes to that."
+
+"Now if youse gents," suggested the tramp, "could find an extra pair of
+pants between you, this coat and hat would suit me down to the ground."
+And he laid a dirty paw on Banborough's discarded garments.
+
+"No you don't!" cried that gentleman, hastily recovering his
+possessions. "Haven't you got any clothes in that bag of yours, Spotts?"
+
+"Well, I _have_ got a costume, Bishop, and that's a fact," replied the
+actor; "but it's hardly in his line, I should think."
+
+"What is it?" asked the Englishman. "You seem about of a size."
+
+"It's a Quaker outfit. I used it in a curtain-raiser we were playing."
+
+"That would do very well," said Cecil, "if it isn't too pronounced."
+
+"Oh, it's tame enough," replied the actor, who exercised a restraint in
+his art for which those who met him casually did not give him credit.
+Indeed, among the many admirable qualities which led people to predict a
+brilliant future for Spotts was the fact that he never overdid anything.
+
+"Huh!" grunted the tramp, "I dunno but what I'd as lieve sport a shovel
+hat as the suit of bedticking they give yer up the river. I used to
+work round Philidelphy some, and I guess I could do the lingo."
+
+"Give them to him," said Banborough. "I'll make it good to you."
+
+"Well, take them, then," replied Spotts regretfully, handing their
+unwelcome companion the outfit which he produced from his bag, adding as
+he pointed to the woods: "Get in there and change quickly. We ought to
+be moving."
+
+The tramp made one step towards the underbrush, and then, pausing
+doubtfully, said:
+
+"You don't happen to have a razor and a bit of looking-glass about yer,
+do yer? I see there's a brook here, and there ain't nothin' Quakery
+about my beard."
+
+The actor's face was a study.
+
+"I'm afraid there's no escape from it, old man," remarked Cecil. "If
+you've your shaving materials with you, let him have them."
+
+"There they are. You needn't trouble to return them."
+
+Their recipient grinned appreciatively, and as the last rustle of his
+retirement into privacy died away, Miss Arminster turned to Banborough
+and demanded:
+
+"Now tell me what I was arrested for, why you two ran away with me, and
+where I'm being taken."
+
+"I can answer the first of those questions," broke in Spotts. "You're a
+Spanish sympathiser and a political spy."
+
+"I'm nothing of the sort, as you know very well!" she replied, colouring
+violently. "I'm the leading lady of the A. B. C. Company."
+
+"Of course _we_ know it," returned the actor; "but the police have
+chosen to take a different view of the matter."
+
+"Why is he chaffing me like this?" she said, appealing to Cecil.
+
+"I'm afraid it's a grim reality," he replied. "You see, when the Spanish
+officials were turned out of Washington, they'd the impertinence to take
+the title of my book as their password."
+
+"Well, then," she said, "they did what they'd no right to do."
+
+"I suppose that would be a question of international copyright," he
+replied. "But 'The Purple Kangaroo' has proved itself a most troublesome
+animal, and as I thought you wouldn't care for quarters down the bay
+till the war was over, I took the liberty of running off with you."
+
+"I'm very much obliged to you, I'm sure; but what next?"
+
+"We're all to rendezvous at Yonkers."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"Well, unless the situation improves, I'm afraid it'll become a question
+of seeking a refuge in another country."
+
+"If you think," she cried, "that I'm going to spend the rest of my
+existence in the forests of Yucatan or on the plains of Patagonia,
+you're mightily mistaken!"
+
+"Oh," he said, laughing, "it isn't as bad as all that. Ours is only a
+political crime, and Canada will afford a safe harbour from the
+extradition laws."
+
+"But the war won't be finished in a day," she contended, her eyes
+beginning to fill with tears.
+
+"Won't you trust me?" asked Cecil, taking both her hands. "Won't you let
+me prove my repentance by guarding your welfare? Won't you--"
+
+Indeed there is no knowing to what he might have committed himself in
+the face of such beauty and sorrow had not Spotts broken in with a cry
+of:
+
+"It's all up now! We're done for, and no mistake!" And he pointed to the
+figure of a short, fat, red-faced man, very much out of breath, who was
+bustling down the road, waving his hands at them and shouting "Hi!"
+
+"You'd better go and warn the tramp," said Banborough; and the actor
+plunged into the woods.
+
+A moment later the stranger came up to them, and panted out:
+
+"I arrest you both, in the name of the law!"
+
+Neither said anything, but Banborough took one of Miss Arminster's tiny
+gloved hands in his own and gave it a little squeeze just by way of
+reassuring her.
+
+"Well," said the new arrival, as soon as he had recovered his breath,
+"what have you got to say for yourselves?"
+
+"I don't know that we've anything to say," replied Cecil sheepishly.
+
+"I should think not!" said the other. "Here, take off that coat!" And he
+stripped the official garment from the Englishman's shoulders. "The cap,
+too!"
+
+Banborough handed it to him, saying as he did so:
+
+"You're a police official, I suppose?"
+
+"I'm the Justice of the Peace from the next town. They just missed
+catching you at the last place you drove through, and telegraphed on to
+me. Knowing there was a cross-road here, I wasn't going to take any
+chance of losing you. I left the police to follow. They'll be along in a
+minute. Now what do you mean by it?"
+
+"I don't suppose any explanations of mine would persuade you that
+you're making a mistake," said Banborough.
+
+"No, I don't suppose they would. Now you put on that coat accidentally,
+didn't you? Just absent-mindedly--"
+
+"I don't know you," broke in the Englishman, "and I don't--"
+
+"That'll do," said the Justice of the Peace. "I don't know you either,
+and--yes, I do know the woman." Then turning to Miss Arminster, he
+continued: "Didn't I perform the marriage ceremony over you the year
+before last?"
+
+"Yes," she said softly. And Cecil relinquished her hand. This, he
+considered, was worse than being arrested.
+
+"I thought I did," went on the magistrate. "I don't often forget a face,
+and I'm sorry to see you in such bad company."
+
+The young girl began to show signs of breaking down, and the situation
+was fast becoming acute, when the unexpected tones of an unctuous voice
+suddenly diverted everybody's attention.
+
+"Why is thee so violent, friend?" said some one behind them. And turning
+quickly, they perceived the sleek, clean-shaven, well-groomed figure of
+a Quaker, dressed in a shad-bellied brown coat, a low black silk hat
+with a curved brim, and square shoes.
+
+"Who the devil--!" began the officer.
+
+"Fie! fie!" said the stranger. "Abstain from cursings and revilings in
+thy speech. But I am glad thee hast come, for verily I feared the
+workers of iniquity were abroad."
+
+"Oh, you know something about it, do you?" asked the Justice of the
+Peace.
+
+"I was returning from a meeting of the Friends," continued the Quaker
+blandly, "when I came upon these two misguided souls. As my counsellings
+were not heeded, and I am a man of peace, I had retired into the woods
+to pursue my way uninterrupted, when I heard thee approach."
+
+"Well, I'll be glad of your assistance, though I daresay I could have
+managed them until the police came. They're a dangerous pair.
+
+"And what will thee do with the other prisoner, friend?"
+
+"Eh? What other prisoner?"
+
+"The one that lies in a debauched sleep at the farther end of the van. I
+have striven to arouse him, but in vain."
+
+"Where is he?" said the magistrate, peering into the black depths of the
+waggon.
+
+"In the far corner. Thee canst not see him from here."
+
+"I'll have him out in no time!" exclaimed the officer, springing into
+the van, with the driver's hat and coat still in his hand.
+
+"Not if I knows it, you old bloke!" cried the sometime Quaker, slamming
+the door and turning the key with vicious enjoyment, while his three
+companions, for Spotts had emerged from the wood, executed a war-dance
+round the vehicle out of sheer joy and exultation. From within proceeded
+a variety of curses and imprecations, while the Black Maria bounced upon
+its springs as if a young elephant had gone mad inside.
+
+Suddenly the Quaker laid a detaining hand upon Banborough's shoulder,
+saying:
+
+"Take care, boss; here come the cops! I'll play the leading rôle, and
+you follow the cues."
+
+They all paused and stood listening, while the rapid beat of a horse's
+hoofs came to their ears, and a second later a Concord waggon, loaded
+down with policemen, swung into view round the corner of the road, and
+presently drew up beside them.
+
+"Thee hast come in good time, friend," said the Quaker to the chief
+officer. "We have watched thy prisoners overlong already."
+
+"Where's the boss?" demanded the official.
+
+"Dost thee mean the worldly man with the red face, much given to profane
+speaking?"
+
+"I guess that's him," laughed one of the subordinates.
+
+"As I was returning from a meeting of the Friends with these good
+people," pursued the Quaker, indicating his companions, "we came upon
+this vehicle standing in the road, the horses being held by two men,
+who, when they saw us, ran into the woods towards the river."
+
+"How were they dressed?" asked the chief officer.
+
+"One of them had garments like thine, friend."
+
+"That's our man, sure!"
+
+"Very presently," resumed the Quaker, "came thy master, using much
+unseemly language, who, having heard our story, followed the men in the
+direction we indicated, begging that we guard this carriage till you
+came, and bidding us tell you to return with it to the town."
+
+"Well, I guess the boss knows his own business best," said the leader of
+the party; "so we'd better be getting back to the station. I suppose
+you'll come and give your evidence."
+
+"I am a man of peace," said the Quaker; "but if my testimony is required
+I and my friends will walk behind thee to the next town and give it."
+
+"It's only half a mile from here, a straight road--you can't miss it.
+You'll be there as soon as we want you."
+
+The Quaker nodded.
+
+"Then we'd better be moving," said the chief officer. "I'll drive Maria,
+and you fellows go ahead in the cart."
+
+The remarks which were now proceeding from the interior of that vehicle
+were much too dreadful to record. But as it was about to start, the man
+of peace, lifting his hands, checked the driver and said:
+
+"I will, with thy permission, approach the grating and speak a word of
+counsel." And going to the door, he said in a loud voice:
+
+"Peace, friend. Remember what the good Benjamin Franklin has said: 'He
+that speaks much is much mistaken.'"
+
+The reply elicited by these remarks was of such a nature that Miss
+Arminster was obliged to put her hands over her ears, and the police
+drove off with loud guffaws, enjoying immensely the good Quaker's
+confusion.
+
+"That bloke," remarked the tramp, as the Black Maria disappeared in a
+cloud of dust, "give me three months once, an' I feels better."
+
+And without another word he led the party across the road and into the
+woods in the direction of the river.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+IN WHICH THE PARTY RECEIVES A NEW IMPETUS.
+
+
+An hour later, when the little party of four, weary and dusty, walked up
+to the hotel at Yonkers, they perceived Tybalt Smith in his
+shirt-sleeves, with his hat tipped over his eyes as a protection from
+the rays of the declining sun, lying fast asleep in a large garden chair
+which was tilted back on its hind legs against the side of the house.
+Spotts lost no time in poking him in the ribs with his cane, whereupon
+the tragedian, rousing himself from slumber, hastily assumed a more
+upright position, bringing the chair down on its front legs with a bang.
+Having thus been fully awakened, he became at once the master of the
+situation.
+
+"We are here," he said.
+
+"So I see," replied Spotts, "and a pretty show you've made of yourself.
+There's nothing private or retiring about your methods. Now where are
+the rest of the party?"
+
+Mr. Smith at once assumed an air of mysterious solemnity.
+
+"Mrs. Mackintosh," he said in a stage whisper, "is above. I reserved an
+apartment for her and the Leop--Miss Arminster, I mean, and a private
+sitting-room for us all. Mrs. Mackintosh is disturbed. Mrs. Mackintosh
+requires an explanation. Mrs. Mackintosh," turning to Banborough, "is a
+woman of great character, of great force, and she requires an
+explanation of _you_!"
+
+"Ha!" said Spotts, casting a look of mock commiseration at the
+Englishman.
+
+"Perhaps it might be better," suggested the tragedian, "if Miss
+Arminster saw her first."
+
+"Perhaps it might," acquiesced Spotts.
+
+"All right, I'll go," said Violet; adding to Cecil, as she passed him:
+"Don't be frightened; her bark's worse than her bite." And she entered
+the house laughing.
+
+"But where are the others?" asked the author.
+
+"Sh!" whispered the tragedian, casting a suspicious glance at the
+Quaker. "We're not alone."
+
+"Yes," said Spotts, "the Bishop's got a new convert."
+
+"Oh," returned Banborough, "I forgot you hadn't met this gentleman. We
+inadvertently rescued him, and since then he's done us a similar service
+twice over. I really don't know what he's called. The clothes belong to
+Spotts."
+
+"I thought I recognised the costume," said Smith. Then, turning to the
+stranger, he demanded, abruptly: "What's your name?"
+
+"I have been known by many," came the suave tones of the Quaker, "but
+for the purposes of our brief acquaintance thee mayst call me Friend
+Othniel."
+
+The tragedian gave a grunt of disapproval.
+
+"I think he can be trusted," remarked Spotts. "He's certainly stood by
+us well, so far. Now tell us about Kerrington and Mill."
+
+"Yes, I'm most anxious to know what's become of them," said the
+Englishman. And the three drew nearer together, while the Quaker,
+turning to the road, stood basking in the sunshine, his broad flabby
+hands clasped complacently before him.
+
+Tybalt Smith, after casting another furtive glance in Friend Othniel's
+direction, murmured the words:
+
+"Shoe-strings and a sandwich!"
+
+"Eh? What?" queried Banborough.
+
+"Our two friends," continued the tragedian, "through the powerful aid of
+a member of our fraternity, whose merits the public have hitherto failed
+to recognise, have sought refuge in the more humble walks of life to
+escape the undesirable publicity forced upon them by _you_! Mr.
+Kerrington, disguised as a Jew pedlar, is now dispensing shoe-strings
+and collar-buttons on lower Broadway, while Mr. Mill is at present
+taking a constitutional down Fifth Avenue encased in a sandwich frame
+calling attention to the merits of Backer's Tar Soap. He is, if I may
+so express it, between the boards instead of on the boards--a little
+pleasantry of my own, you will observe."
+
+The tragedian paused, but failing to elicit the desired laugh, continued
+his narration:
+
+"Mrs. Mackintosh, though having been offered a most desirable position
+to hawk apples and chewing-gum on Madison Square, has preferred to share
+the rigours of an unknown exile, that she might protect the youthful
+innocence of our leading lady."
+
+"All of which means," said Spotts shortly, "that Mill and Kerrington
+chose to fake it out in town, while you and the old girl bolted."
+
+"Our friend," remarked Smith, casting an aggrieved look at the last
+speaker, "is lamentably terse. But let us join Mrs. Mackintosh. She
+will support my remarks, not perhaps in such chaste diction, but--"
+
+"Oh, shut it off!" interrupted Mr. Spotts. "Come along, Othniel. I guess
+you're in this, too." And he led the way into the house.
+
+When they entered the private parlour they found Mrs. Mackintosh and
+Miss Arminster waiting to receive them, the old lady with mingled
+feelings of righteous indignation and amusement at the ludicrous
+position in which they were placed, which latter she strove hard to
+conceal.
+
+"Well, Bishop," she began, as soon as Banborough was fairly in the room,
+"you've carried off an innocent and unsuspecting young lady in a Black
+Maria, imprisoned an officer of the law, deceived his agents, reduced
+two of the members of our company to walking the streets, forced us to
+consort with thieves and criminals," pointing to the bland form of the
+Quaker, who had just appeared in the doorway, "laid us all under the
+imputation of plotting against our country, exiled us from our native
+land, brought me away from New York in my declining years, with only the
+clothes I stand up in, and deposited me in a small room on the third
+floor of a second-class hotel, which is probably full of fleas! And now
+I ask you, sir, in the name of Christian decency, which you're supposed
+to represent, and common sense, of which you've very little, what
+you're going to do with us?"
+
+Banborough sat down suddenly on the nearest available chair, made a weak
+attempt at a smile, gave it up, and blurted out:
+
+"Well, I'm blessed if I know! But permit me to decline the declining
+years," he murmured gallantly.
+
+"I have," continued the lady, with a twinkle in her eye, "for the past
+thirty years played blameless parts on the metropolitan stage, and I'm
+too old to assume with any degree of success the rôle of a political
+criminal."
+
+"Madam," said the author, making a desperate effort to compose himself,
+"I'm the first to admit the lack of foresight on my part which has
+placed us in this deplorable predicament; but the fact remains that
+we're suspected of a serious crime against this Government, and until we
+can prove ourselves innocent it's necessary to protect our liberties as
+best we may. I fortunately have ample funds, and I can only say that it
+will be a duty as well as a privilege to take you all to a place of
+safety, and keep you there, as my guests, till happier times."
+
+"Hear, hear!" said the tragedian from the back of the room, while the
+Quaker settled himself into the most comfortable armchair with a sigh of
+contentment.
+
+"Very nicely spoken, young man," replied the older lady, whose
+suspicions were only partially allayed, "but words aren't deeds, and
+Canada, where I'm informed we're to be dumped, is a long way off; and if
+you imagine you can go cavorting round the country with a Black Maria
+for a whole afternoon without bringing the police down on you, you're
+vastly mistaken!"
+
+"Thee speaketh words of wisdom, but a full stomach fortifieth a stout
+heart," said Friend Othniel.
+
+"Yes," replied Smith, who took this remark to himself. "I ordered dinner
+at six, thinking you'd be in then, and if I'm not mistaken it's here
+now." And as he spoke the door opened and a waiter entered to lay the
+table.
+
+Conversation of a private nature was naturally suspended forthwith, and
+the members of the A. B. C. Company sat in silence, hungrily eyeing the
+board.
+
+"Thee mayst lay a place for me, friend," said the Quaker to the waiter,
+as he watched the preparations with bland enjoyment.
+
+"Did you order any drinks?" asked Banborough of the tragedian.
+
+"No, Bishop, I didn't," replied the latter. "As you're paying for the
+show, I thought I'd leave you that privilege."
+
+"Order six soda lemonades," said Banborough to the waiter, adding behind
+his hand to Spotts, as he noted the gloom spread over the company: "No
+liquor to-night. We need to keep our wits about us."
+
+"Stop, friend," came the unctuous tones of the Quaker, arresting the
+waiter as he was about to leave the room. "For myself I never take
+strong waters, but thee forgettest, Bishop," giving Banborough the title
+he had heard the others use, "thee forgettest that our revered friend,"
+with a wave of his hand in Mrs. Mackintosh's direction, "hath an
+affection of her lungs which requires her to take a brandy and soda for
+her body's good before meals. Let it be brought at once!"
+
+"Why, you impudent upstart!" gasped the old lady, as the door closed
+behind the waiter. "How dare you say I drink!"
+
+"Shoo!" returned Friend Othniel, lapsing from the Quaker into the tramp;
+"I ain't orderin' it for youse. I've a throat like a Sahara."
+
+Then turning to the other members of the company, he continued:
+
+"Now seein' as we've a moment alone, and bein' all criminals, I votes we
+has a session o' the committee o' ways and means."
+
+A chorus of indignant protest arose from every side.
+
+"Youse ain't criminals, eh? What's liberatin' prisoners, an' stealin'
+two hosses an' a kerridge, an' the driver's hat an' coat, with a
+five-dollar bill in the pocket?"
+
+Banborough rose to deny vehemently the last assertion.
+
+"Oh, yes, ther' was," continued the tramp. "I got that." And he
+produced a crisp note at the sight of which the Englishman groaned, as
+he realised the damning chain of evidence which circumstance was
+building up around them.
+
+"An' lockin' up officers of the law," Friend Othniel went on, "an'
+runnin' off with prisoners, specially a tough like me, one o' your pals,
+what's wanted particular." And he winked villainously.
+
+"I do not see," began Banborough, who was fast losing his temper, "that
+there's any need of discussing the moral aspect of this affair. You,"
+turning to the tramp, "will have your dinner and your drink, and a
+certain sum of money, and you'll then kindly leave us. Though your
+nature may be incapable of appreciating the difference between a crime
+knowingly committed and one innocently entered into, a difference
+exists, and renders further association between us undesirable, to say
+the least."
+
+"Oh, it does, does it?" said Friend Othniel. "Well, that's where youse
+blokes is mistook. This mornin' my dearest ambition was to blow up
+Madison Square Garden, but what's that to wreckin' a whole nation? No,
+Bishop, I'm a political conspirator from this time on, and I'll stand by
+yer through thick and thin! Why, you people ain't no more fitted to run
+a show o' this sort than a parcel of three-weeks-old babies. I wouldn't
+give yer ten hours to land the whole crowd in jail; but you just trust
+to me, and I'll see yer safe, if it can be done. I tell yer, it ain't
+the fust time I ben in a hurry to view Niagary Falls from the Canadian
+side."
+
+Just then the door opened, and the waiter entered with the brandy and
+soda in a long glass.
+
+"Thee mayst put it here, friend, till the lady is ready to take it,"
+said Othniel, indicating the table at his side.
+
+"Nothing of the kind," snapped Mrs. Mackintosh. "I guess I'm as ready to
+take it now's I ever shall be." And she grasped the glass and, setting
+her face, proceeded to drain the tumbler to the amusement of the
+company.
+
+"There," she said, wiping her lips with her handkerchief, as the waiter
+left the room, "that tasted about as bad as anything I've had for a long
+time; but if it had been castor oil, I'd have drunk every drop rather
+than that you'd had it."
+
+A general laugh greeted this sally, and the tramp remarked sheepishly
+that he guessed he'd know it the next time he ran up against her.
+
+Then, waxing serious, he resumed his former topic.
+
+"We ain't got no time to waste in frivolity," he said, "and if we're to
+get out of this hole, the sooner we makes our plans the better, and
+perhaps, as I know more about this business than youse, I'll do the
+talking."
+
+Receiving the silent assent of the company, he continued: "I remembers
+in the days o' my innocent youth, before I burgled my first watch,
+a-playin' of a Sunday-school game, where we went out of the room, and
+the bloke what teached us put a quarter somewhere in plain sight, and
+when we come in again not one on us could find it, 'cause it was just
+under our noses; which the same is the game I'm proposing to play."
+
+"I think I see what you mean," said Banborough. "I've heard it said that
+the destruction of most criminals is their cleverness."
+
+"That's just what I'm a-tryin' to point out," replied the tramp. "The
+cops gives you the credit of allus tryin' to do the out-o'-the-way
+thing, so as to put 'em off the track, while if yer only acted as yer
+naturally would if yer hadn't done nothin' to be cotched for, yer could
+walk before their eyes and they'd never see yer."
+
+"That sounds all right," said Spotts. "Now what's your advice?"
+
+"To go back to New York," replied the tramp shortly.
+
+"But," objected Miss Arminster, "we can't stay in the United States."
+
+"Who said we could?" retorted the tramp. "Don't yer see, the cops'll
+reckon on our takin' some train along hereabouts for the North, and
+they'll watch all the little stations on the up line, but they won't
+trouble 'bout the down line, 'cause they know we've left the city. So
+all we has to do, after we've had our dinner comfortable-like, is to
+take a local back to town, and catch the White Mountain Express for
+Montreal."
+
+"Why the White Mountain Express?" asked Mrs. Mackintosh.
+
+"'Cause it's the longest route," replied the tramp, "an' they'll reckon
+on our takin' the shortest. Besides which, we'll cross the border in the
+early morning, havin' the baggage, which we ain't got, examined on
+arrival."
+
+The company expressed hearty approval of the plan, and it was easy to
+see, in the case of the ladies at least, that Friend Othniel's sagacity
+had won him a much-improved position in their estimation.
+
+The waiter now came bustling in and out of the room, and Mrs. Mackintosh
+drew Cecil apart into the embrasure of a window.
+
+"You mustn't think I'm too hard on you, young man," she said, "though I
+can talk like a house afire when I once get r'iled. I know you didn't
+mean to get us into this scrape. You're a good-hearted chap, or you
+wouldn't have given us all a breakfast when you didn't need to, and I
+want you to understand that I'll stand by you whatever happens. I've
+taken a real liking to you, because you can look me straight in the eye,
+and I know you're worth a dozen of those chaps one sees hanging round a
+theatre; and if you behave yourself nicely, you won't find you've got a
+better friend than Betsy Mackintosh." And she squeezed his hand with an
+honest fervour that many a man might have envied.
+
+Cecil thanked her for her confidence in him, and turned to have a few
+words with Miss Arminster, who had been constantly in his mind. When she
+had admitted to the Justice of the Peace that she was a married woman,
+he felt as if somebody had poured a pitcher of ice-water down his back.
+Of course he hardly considered his sentiment for her as serious, but he
+was at the age when a young man feels it a personal grievance if he
+discovers that a pretty girl is married. Indeed, the fact that the
+little actress had been so blind to her own interests as not to keep her
+heart and hand free till he came along first caused him to realise how
+hard he was hit.
+
+"I do hope you've not been too much fatigued?" he said, sitting down
+beside her.
+
+"Oh, you mustn't bother about that," she replied, raising her eyes to
+his in a decidedly disconcerting manner. "I'm afraid you must have
+thought me very selfish and ungrateful for seeming to care so much about
+my own appearance and so little about all you've done for me."
+
+"Oh, don't speak of that," he protested.
+
+"But I must speak of it," she insisted. "I can't begin to tell you how I
+appreciated it. It was plucky and just splendid, and some day or other I
+want you to take me out driving again, in another sort of trap. You're
+the best whip I ever knew."
+
+He flushed under her praise, and began to say pretty things which he had
+better have omitted; but she presently became absent-minded in the face
+of his attentions, and interpreting this as an unfavourable sign, he
+ventured to ask her why she was so pensive.
+
+"I'm afraid you must think me awfully rude," she said, "and really I've
+listened to all the nice things you've been saying, half of which I
+don't deserve, but the fact is, this place, and even this very room, are
+full of sweet associations for me. It was in that little church, just
+across the road, that I was married four years ago."
+
+"But I thought," he began, "that the Justice of the Peace said that he
+married you."
+
+"So he did," she returned softly, "but that was different--it was
+later."
+
+"Eh? What!" he said, "later?"
+
+"Yes," she replied dreamily, not noticing the interruption. "But it was
+here that the few sweet days of my first honeymoon were passed. 'Twas
+here I became the bride of the only man I've ever loved, the bride of--"
+
+"Hist!" cried the tramp, who had been looking out of the window. "The
+house is watched!" And with this announcement Banborough's tête-à-tête
+came to an abrupt close.
+
+"Are you sure?" cried Spotts.
+
+"Positive. There are three cops fooling round in front now."
+
+"What shall we do?" cried Smith.
+
+"Git," rejoined the tramp.
+
+"But how?" queried Banborough.
+
+"Oh, I'll fix that all right," said the Quaker. "I bagged a plated
+tea-service here five years ago, and if they ain't changed the
+arrangements of the house, this side door leads into an unused passage,
+which, barrin' the climbin' of a picket fence, is very handy for
+escape."
+
+"But how about the waiter?" suggested Mrs. Mackintosh, who was always
+practical.
+
+"Right you are," said Friend Othniel. "We'll lock the door before we get
+out. They'll waste time enough over trying to open it, to give us a
+chance."
+
+To speak was to act, and the tramp softly turned the key and slipped it
+into his pocket.
+
+"As a memento," he said. "It's all I'm likely to git. They don't even
+use plate now." And he fingered the spoons and forks on the table
+regretfully.
+
+"Come," said Spotts shortly. "We've no time to lose."
+
+"Look here," said Banborough to the company, "I may be a criminal, but
+I'm not a sneak, and I don't order meals and apartments without paying
+for them. How much ought I to leave behind?"
+
+Spotts laughed.
+
+"If you put it that way, I guess ten dollars'll cover it," he said.
+
+The Englishman threw a bill on the table.
+
+"Now," cried Smith, "let's be off!"
+
+"Out this way," said the tramp, opening a side door. "You others go
+first, and I'll wait here till I sees you're all safe."
+
+"Not if I know it," said Cecil. "You go first, or you'll get kicked."
+
+The tramp looked longingly at the crisp note, and led the way,
+remarking:
+
+"Thee castest thy pearls before swine, friend."
+
+"Ah, that's just what I'm trying to avoid," said Banborough cheerfully,
+bringing up the rear.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+IN WHICH THE BISHOP OF BLANFORD RECEIVES A BLACK EYE.
+
+
+"The Bishop of Blanford!" announced the page, as he threw open the door
+of Sir Joseph Westmoreland's private consulting-room.
+
+Sir Joseph came forward to meet his distinguished patient, and said a
+few tactful words about having long known his Lordship by reputation.
+The Bishop smiled amiably, and surveyed the great London physician
+through his glasses. The two men were of thoroughly opposite types: Sir
+Joseph tall, thin, wiry, his high forehead and piercing blue eye
+proclaiming a powerful mind well trained for the purposes of science;
+the Bishop short and broad of stature, with an amiable, rounded, ruddy
+face, and the low forehead which is typical of a complacent dogmatism.
+
+An ecclesiastic had come to humbug a man of science. Could he do it? Not
+really, he told himself; but then Sir Joseph was so courteous.
+
+"I ventured to consult you," said his Lordship, in reply to the
+physician's questions, "because I feel the need of rest, absolute rest.
+The duties of my diocese are so onerous--and--er--in short--you
+understand."
+
+"Quite so, quite so," said Sir Joseph, who understood that there was
+nothing whatever the matter with his patient.
+
+"To be entirely alone," continued the Bishop, "for a space of time,
+without any distractions--not even letters."
+
+"Most certainly not letters, your Lordship."
+
+"How wonderful you men of science are!" murmured the ecclesiastic. "You
+understand me exactly. Now if I could have six weeks--or even a month."
+
+"A month, I should say," replied Sir Joseph. "After that you might begin
+to receive your correspondence."
+
+"Yes, a month would do--that is--er--where would you advise me to go?"
+
+"What climate generally suits you best?"
+
+"I--er--was thinking of Scotland."
+
+"In May?" queried the physician.
+
+"A friend would lend me his country place--and I--er--should be so
+entirely alone."
+
+"Quite so. Nothing could be better," replied his adviser, who, like all
+men who have risen in their profession, had attained an infinite
+knowledge of human nature.
+
+"And you will be so kind as to write me a note, stating your
+opinion--about the rest--and--er--immunity from letters--and all that,"
+said the Bishop, depositing with studied thoughtlessness a double fee on
+the table, "for the benefit of my--my family. She is--they are--I
+mean--that is, she might not realise the importance of absolute rest,
+and"--as a brilliant thought occurred to him--"and you'll give me a
+prescription."
+
+"Certainly," said Sir Joseph. "I'll do both now."
+
+"Thanks," murmured the Bishop, and, receiving the precious documents,
+he took his leave.
+
+The great physician's letter he put carefully in an inside pocket; the
+prescription he never remembered to get filled.
+
+"A month," he said to himself; "that ought to be time enough." And he
+hailed a cab, and driving promptly to the nearest American steamship
+office, he engaged a passage forthwith.
+
+"I wonder what Sir Joseph thought about it," he meditated, as he paid
+for his ticket. In this respect, however, he did his adviser an
+injustice. Sir Joseph never thought about it at all. It was not part of
+his profession.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Most people would have united in saying that the Bishop of Blanford
+was an exceedingly fortunate man. No one was possessed of an estate
+boasting fairer lawns or more noble beeches, and the palace was a
+singularly successful combination of ecclesiastical antiquity and
+nineteenth-century comfort. The cathedral was a gem, and its boy choir
+the despair of three neighbouring sees, while, owing to a certain
+amount of worldly wisdom on the part of former investors of the
+revenues, the bishopric was among the most handsomely endowed in
+England. Yet his Lordship was not happy. All his life long there had
+been a blot upon his enjoyment, and that blot was his sister, Miss
+Matilda Banborough.
+
+Miss Matilda was blatantly good, an intolerant virtue that accounted for
+multitudes of sins in other people. Her one ambition was to bring up the
+Bishop in the way she thought he should go, and hitherto she had been
+wonderfully successful. All through his married life she had resided at
+the palace and been the ruling power, and when his wife had died twenty
+years before, snuffed out by the cold austerity of the Bishop's sister
+and the ecclesiastical monotony of Blanford, Miss Matilda had assumed
+the reins of power, and had never laid them down.
+
+The Bishop's wife had been a weak, amiable woman, and her last conscious
+request was to be buried in the sunlight, but her sister-in-law
+remarked that "her mind must have been wandering, for though Sarah was
+vacillating, she was never sacrilegious." So they buried her in the
+shadiest corner of the cloisters, and put up a memorial brass setting
+forth all the virtues for which she was not particularly noted, and
+entirely omitting to mention her saving grace of patience under great
+provocation.
+
+Since that time the Bishop's son, Cecil, had been a bone of contention
+at Blanford. His aunt had attempted to apply the same rigorous treatment
+to him that had been meted out to his father; but the lad, whose spirit
+had not been broken, refused to submit. At first, in his boyhood days,
+his feeling was chiefly one of awe of Miss Matilda, who always seemed to
+be interfering with his pleasure, and who made the Sabbath anything but
+a day of peace for the restless child. Then came long terms at school,
+with vacations to which he never looked forward, and then four years at
+the university, when the periods spent at Blanford became more dreaded.
+
+Cecil tried bringing home friends, but there were too many restrictions.
+So, after graduation, he drifted off to London, where his aunt
+prophesied speedy damnation for him, and never quite forgave him because
+he did not achieve it. During these years his visits to the palace
+became fewer and fewer. Then he wrote his novel, which proved the
+breaking-point, for Miss Matilda forced his good-natured, easy-going
+father to protest against its publication in England, and the young man,
+in impatient scorn, had shaken the dust of his native country from his
+feet and departed to the United States, bearing his manuscript with him.
+
+That was a year ago, and Cecil had never written once. His publishers
+would not give his address, and if he received the letters sent through
+their agency, he never answered them. His father pined for him. His aunt
+waxed spiteful, and so firm was her domination over the Bishop that he
+never dared tell her of his secretly formed plan of going to America to
+find his son. Hence his visit to the great London physician.
+
+The little plot worked out better than he could have hoped. Sir Joseph's
+letter proved convincing, for Miss Matilda had a holy awe of constituted
+authority, and would no more have thought of disobeying its injunctions
+than she would of saying her prayers backwards. His Lordship accordingly
+went to London, and disappeared for a month--ostensibly to Scotland, in
+reality to America; and no one on the Allan liner suspected for a moment
+that the little man in civilian's clothes, whose name appeared on the
+passenger-list as Mr. Banborough, was the Bishop of Blanford.
+
+His thirty days of grace allowed him but two weeks in the States, and
+here fortune seemed to have deserted him, for, on his arrival, he
+learned that his son had gone South. A wild-goose chase to Washington
+consumed much valuable time, and, with only forty-eight hours to spare,
+he arrived at Cecil's quarters in New York on the day when that young
+gentleman was madly driving a Black Maria out of the city.
+
+Discouraged and disheartened at his lack of success, the Bishop took a
+train for Montreal, and found himself, about ten o'clock on that
+evening, owing to faulty orders and a misplaced switch, stranded at a
+little station just on the dividing line between Canada and the United
+States.
+
+"And when can I proceed on my journey to Montreal?" he queried of the
+station-master.
+
+"Sure I don't know," responded that individual briefly. "We're bound to
+get things cleared for the White Mountain Express if possible."
+
+"And when is it due?" asked his Lordship.
+
+"Eleven forty-five A.M., if she's on time."
+
+"I think," said the Bishop, "that I'll remain for the night, and go on
+at a more seasonable hour to-morrow. Is there any one here who can put
+me up?"
+
+The station-master scratched his head in perplexity, glancing off to the
+horizon where glimmered a few lights from scattered farmhouses.
+
+"I dunno what to say," he replied. "I reckon Deacon Perkins would have
+put you up," pointing to the nearest light, some mile and a half
+distant, which at that moment disappeared, "but," added the official,
+"it looks as if he'd gone to bed. Folks don't stay up late round here.
+There ain't much to do."
+
+"But," protested his Lordship, "there's a story over this office. Surely
+you can arrange something for me."
+
+"Well, you see it's this way," said the man. "There's two police
+officers and a journalist has reserved it for to-night, 'cause they's on
+the lookout for a batch of prisoners 'scaping to Canada. But if so be's
+you wouldn't mind sleeping in the refreshment-room, I could let you have
+a mattress, and make you up a tidy bed under the bar."
+
+The Bishop reflected that, though such quarters were hardly in keeping
+with the dignity of an episcopal prince, they were better than nothing,
+and as he was travelling incognito it did not much matter. So he
+cheerfully accepted, and going out on the platform took a seat on the
+narrow wooden bench that ran along the front of the station, and lighted
+a cigar to while away the time till the preparations for his retirement
+were completed.
+
+It was pitch-dark outside, and the presence of three glimmering points
+of light were the only indication of any other occupants of the bench.
+But he rightly conjectured that the smokers were the policemen and the
+journalist of whom he had heard, and, having nothing better to do, he
+entered into conversation with them.
+
+"Oh, yes," said Marchmont, for it was none other, "we've got a big job
+on hand to-night, sir, if we pull it off."
+
+"Is it uncertain, then?" asked the Bishop.
+
+"Well, of course we don't know which way they're coming. There was a
+sensational escape of a lot of Spanish spies from New York this noon.
+When I left we only knew they'd gone North. Since then they've been
+heard of near the Hudson River. Of course it's practically certain
+they'll make for Montreal, as it's the nearest point at which they have
+a consul, and my knowledge of human nature leads me to think they'll
+take the most indirect route; so I came on here by the first train, and
+if we can catch them when the Express comes through to-night, it'll be a
+great scoop, and certain promotion for me."
+
+"Who compose the party?" asked his Lordship.
+
+"The whole thing seems to be rather mysterious," said the journalist.
+"There's a woman conspirator in it, and one or two men, but the identity
+of the leader, the man who planned the rescue and had the unparalleled
+audacity to represent himself as one of our reporters, is quite unknown
+to the police."
+
+"But you?" said the Bishop.
+
+"Oh, I," replied Marchmont, "of course I could hazard a guess as to his
+identity." And putting his hand before his mouth, so that his two
+companions should not hear his words, he added, with a tone of triumph
+in his voice: "There's not the remotest doubt in my mind that the young
+man who ran off with the Black Maria was none other than the Secretary
+of the Spanish Legation."
+
+"Ah," said his Lordship, who was getting bored, "very interesting, I'm
+sure. I think I'll turn in now. Good-night." And a few minutes later he
+was safely ensconced under the bar and in the land of dreams, where Miss
+Matilda and a prison-van figured conspicuously.
+
+After an interval of time, the Bishop was sleepily conscious of the
+arrival of a train, accompanied by a certain amount of excitement, but
+it was not till several hours later, when dawn was just beginning to
+break, that he was rudely awakened by some one attempting to appropriate
+his resting-place. At the same moment he became conscious that a
+considerable uproar was going on in the station, and a voice from above,
+which he recognised as the journalist's, called out:
+
+"Say! One of that gang's in the bar! I saw him come up to the door as I
+was lying in bed!"
+
+Before the Bishop, however, became sufficiently wide awake to assimilate
+thoroughly these astonishing facts, the intruder, who was grotesquely
+armed with a can of hot coffee and a loaf of bread, deposited his
+burdens, and falling upon the recumbent ecclesiastic, proceeded to sit
+upon his head, forcing his face into the pillow, and rendering it
+impossible for him to utter a single sound. The half light and the
+suddenness of the attack had not permitted his Lordship to see the
+features of his aggressor. He had, however, no intention of submitting
+tamely to such an unpardonable outrage; and when the station-master and
+the two policemen, unaware of the proximity of the object of their
+pursuit, had rushed through the room and out at the back door, and the
+stranger, releasing the Bishop, was preparing to fly also, his Lordship,
+forgetful of the professions of peace which his calling assumed, smote
+the intruder lustily in the ribs. He received in return a smashing blow
+in the eye which made him see a multitude of stars, and before he could
+recover himself the stranger had seized the coffee and the loaf and
+dashed through to the front of the station.
+
+The Bishop staggered to his feet, groping blindly about, while he heard
+the voice of the journalist, who was leaning over the banisters in night
+attire, calling vociferously to his companions that the man was escaping
+by the front.
+
+"Did he hurt you?" he asked of the Bishop.
+
+"Yes," replied his Lordship, still blinded by the force of the blow.
+"But he got as good as he gave. I didn't have four years of athletics at
+the 'varsity for nothing."
+
+"Oh, they're sure to catch him," said the journalist
+
+"I hope so," cried the Bishop, "for he richly deserves it."
+
+It is probable, however, that his Lordship would have modified his
+desire for vengeance had he known that his aggressor was his own son.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+IN WHICH A LINE IS DRAWN AND CROSSED.
+
+
+"Say, are you asleep?" came the low voice of the tramp at the side of
+Banborough's berth in the early hours of the morning.
+
+The speaker stood in the aisle of the sleeper and was bending over him,
+half dressed, the contrast between the sleek outer garments of the
+Quaker and the rough underwear of the tramp giving him a most grotesque
+appearance.
+
+"Eh? what?" said Cecil, rousing himself, and noting, as he did so, that
+it was still dark. A moment later he was fully awake, saying, as he sat
+up in his bunk: "Is anything the matter?"
+
+"I'm afraid so. We've stopped here more'n ten minutes already, and we're
+scheduled to run through."
+
+"Well, what of it?" said the Englishman, somewhat testily, for he was
+very weary, and resented having his rest broken. "I suppose it's only a
+hot box."
+
+"Hot box be blowed! It's us they're after. If you looks round the corner
+of your curtain, you can see the cops on the platform."
+
+Cecil did as he was bidden, and, drawing back hastily, said:
+
+"You're right. I'm afraid the game is up. Where are we, anyway?"
+
+"If this is the station I take it to be, we're just on the line between
+the two countries. But whether our car's in Canady or the States is
+more'n I can tell."
+
+"Is there anything to be done?" asked Banborough, turning to Smith and
+Spotts, who at this moment quietly joined the Quaker at the Englishman's
+bedside.
+
+"Plenty," replied Spotts. "It's only a question of going North. Ten feet
+may mean the difference between a prison and the 'Windsor.'"
+
+"Well, what shall we do?"
+
+"Are you dressed?"
+
+"All but my boots and coat," answered Cecil. "I'm not enough of a
+gymnast to disrobe in a space six feet by two, and besides I thought
+something of this sort might occur."
+
+"Well, get into your boots, then, and don't make any more noise than
+necessary," said Spotts. "The ladies must be ready by this time. You
+were called last."
+
+"Are you going to make a bolt for it?" queried Banborough, as he put one
+foot out of bed.
+
+"Sh!" returned Spotts. "Not so loud! The officials out there on the
+platform are not sure that we're on board. My suggestion that Mrs.
+Mackintosh should buy the tickets was a lucky move, as she was not
+known. I'm going to pull the bell-cord as a sign to start, in the hopes
+that the engineer will get going before the conductor has time to
+reverse the signal, which means we'll run to the next station. If we
+don't succeed in pulling out, we'll just have to jump off and sprint for
+it."
+
+"Go ahead," said Banborough. "I'll have my boots on by the time I want
+them."
+
+The actor took a cautious look round the sleeper. Quiet reigned, except
+for their own little party, who were by this time all gathered together,
+the ladies having joined them.
+
+"Now!" said Friend Othniel. And Spotts, reaching up, gave two sharp
+jerks to the cord which swung from the centre of the car.
+
+Instantly the air-brakes were relaxed, the engine gave forth a series of
+mighty exhausts, the great driving-wheels spun round for a second on the
+rails, then caught their grip, and the train began to move out of the
+station.
+
+A perfect pandemonium at once arose without. Shouts, gesticulations, and
+the waving of a multitude of lights, but the train still kept on moving,
+and the last car, in which the fugitives were, was sweeping past the
+station building, when the conductor, capless, but lantern in hand,
+emerged from the ticket-office and sprang for the rear platform of the
+train. A second later the quick jerk of the bell-cord and an answering
+whistle from the engine told them that he had succeeded in boarding the
+train and signalling it to stop.
+
+The Quaker, forgetful of his cloth, swore lustily.
+
+"Come on!" cried Spotts, "we'll have to run for it. They'll back into
+the station in a minute, and then we're done for." And suiting the
+action to the word, he rushed down the car towards the front of the
+train. The rest followed him with the best speed they could muster,
+falling over boxes and bundles, getting entangled in stray shoes, and
+running foul of swinging portières. Fortunately the cars were
+vestibuled, so the platforms offered no impediment. The train seemed
+absolutely interminable, for as they dashed through sleeper after
+sleeper, one more always appeared ahead, and Banborough could not help
+feeling as he ran, hatless and in his shirt-sleeves, with his coat under
+his arm and one shoe-string untied, that the whole thing must after all
+be some wildly improbable dream from which he would awake in due
+course.
+
+Now they felt the train stand still and then begin slowly to move
+backwards, which only hastened their flight. But there is an end to
+everything, and presently the last sleeper had been passed through, and
+they emerged, hot and breathless, into the baggage-car, immediately
+behind the engine. Here for the first time they found an open door, the
+vestibules having all been tightly closed.
+
+Spotts, who led the way, wasted no time in explanation, but making one
+dash at the burly baggage-master who confronted him, gave him a blow
+that sent him flying backwards. At the same instant he managed to trip
+up his assistant, causing the two men to come down on the floor
+together, bringing with them in their fall two bicycles and half a dozen
+crates of eggs.
+
+Grasping any light luggage he could seize, Friend Othniel added this to
+the heap, while Spotts, throwing open the great door in the side of the
+car, cried:
+
+"Jump for all you're worth!"
+
+Smith stood cowering on the edge of the door-sill, little relishing the
+prospect of a wild leap into the night. But the Quaker, who had no time
+to waste on arguments, smashed down the top bicycle with one hand, thus
+placing his two opponents on their backs on the floor, and swinging
+round at the same moment, delivered a kick to the tragedian which sent
+him flying into outer darkness after the manner of a spread eagle.
+
+The train was only just moving, and Spotts sprang quickly to the ground,
+and, running alongside the car, called to Miss Arminster to jump into
+his arms, which she promptly did. Putting her to one side out of the
+reach of the train, he ran forward to receive Mrs. Mackintosh; but that
+good lady, being unaccustomed to such acrobatic feats, and arriving with
+more force than precision, completely bowled him over, and they went
+flying into space together. Banborough and Friend Othniel followed
+almost immediately, and, both trying to get out of the door at the same
+time, collided with considerable force, and performed a series of
+somersaults, landing with safety, but emphasis, in a potato-patch.
+
+As the engine swept by them, Cecil sat up and surveyed the scene. It
+certainly was an unusual situation, and the half-light of the early
+morning only served to make their attitudes the more grotesque. The
+party was scattered at large over the field in question. Smith, on one
+knee, was rubbing the bruised portions of his body. Miss Arminster, who
+had landed safely on her feet, was standing with both hands clasped to
+her head, an attitude suggesting concussion of the brain, but which in
+reality betokened nothing more dreadful than an utter disarrangement of
+her hair. Spotts had assumed an unconventional attitude at her feet,
+while the Quaker, face down, with hands and legs outspread, seemed to be
+trying to swim due north.
+
+Directly opposite the Englishman, seated erect and prim on what had once
+been a hill of potatoes, her bonnet perched rakishly on one ear, and her
+grey toupée partially disarranged, hanging with its sustaining hairpins
+over her eyes, was Mrs. Mackintosh, firmly grasping in one hand her
+green silk parasol which she had never relinquished.
+
+As Banborough met her gaze, she demanded sternly:
+
+"What next, young man, I should like to know?"
+
+"Really, Mrs. Mackintosh," he replied, "if for no other reason, you
+ought to be deeply indebted to me as a purveyor of new sensations."
+
+"This is not a time for levity, sir," remarked that lady sternly,
+dropping her parasol and hastily restoring her toupée to its original
+position, "and I consider it perfectly disgraceful that you should cause
+a lady of my character to be arrested in a potato-patch at four o'clock
+in the morning!"
+
+"That's just what I've been endeavouring to prevent," he said. "I
+believe this to be Canada."
+
+"Then Canada's a very poor sort of a country," she replied snappishly.
+
+The others now approached them, and all eyes were turned to the
+railroad station a few hundred yards distant, which was alive with
+bobbing lanterns. Presently a cluster of lights detached itself from the
+rest and came towards them.
+
+"Do you think they're going to arrest us?" asked Miss Arminster timidly.
+
+"Don't you be afraid, miss," returned Friend Othniel. "You just let me
+run this circus, and I'll get you out all right and no mistake."
+
+The party now came up to them. It consisted of the station-master, the
+conductor, several trainmen, and the two policemen.
+
+"Here!" said the conductor. "What did you mean by pulling the cord and
+starting the train?"
+
+"Because we was anxious to see the beauties of Canady," replied the
+tramp.
+
+"Ah, I thought as much," said one of the policemen.
+
+"I am afraid," added the other, "we shall be obliged to persuade you and
+your party to stay in the United States for a while. You may consider
+yourselves under arrest."
+
+"Thank yer," said the tramp sweetly.
+
+"So, to save trouble," continued the officer, "you might as well come
+back quietly with us to the station."
+
+"Yah!" retorted the tramp. "'Will yer walk into my parlour?' said the
+spider to the fly. I knows that game, and I guess the climate o' Canady
+suits my constitution."
+
+"Nonsense!" replied the policeman. "You aren't over the border by about
+two miles."
+
+"Oh, ain't we?" said the tramp. "Just oblige me, then, by putting them
+bracelets which I sees hangin' out o' your pocket on my wrists." And he
+held out his hands.
+
+The policeman looked sheepish, whispered something to his companion, and
+presently they turned their backs on the party and walked away in the
+direction of the station.
+
+"We's so stuck on this piece o' land," called Friend Othniel after them,
+"that we thinks o' farmin' it permanently. Come back and spend Christmas
+with us, won't yer?"
+
+The officers did not deign to notice these remarks, and a few moments
+later the train swept by them on its way to Montreal, the baggage-master
+and his assistant giving their views on the party in general as they
+passed.
+
+The day now really began to break in earnest, bringing with it a cold,
+damp chill, which seemed to penetrate to their very marrow. Spotts took
+off his coat and wrapped it around the shivering Violet--an act of
+chivalry which made Banborough curse his own thoughtlessness. But
+Spotts's endeavours to promote the comfort of the company did not end
+here. He roused Friend Othniel into action, and succeeded in collecting
+a little stubble and underbrush, and with the aid of a few matches they
+made an apology for a fire, round which the forlorn party huddled. But,
+damp with the early dews, the brush gave out more smoke than flame, only
+serving to emphasize their discomfort.
+
+The increasing light showed them something of their surroundings. At
+distances varying from a mile to a mile and a half a few dilapidated
+dwellings peeped out of a fringe of woods. Everything else was
+pine-swamp, with the exception of the one small field of potatoes in
+which they were encamped, and which stood out as an oasis in the
+wilderness. Through the midst of the landscape straggled a muddy road,
+hopelessly impassable for foot-travellers. Certainly the outlook was not
+cheering.
+
+It was therefore with a feeling of positive relief that they perceived
+shambling towards them the uncouth figure of the station-master. He
+paused on the edge of the patch, with one hand embedded in his shock of
+hair, and the other grasping a large piece of chalk, and surveyed the
+party critically.
+
+"Say," he began after a few moments' silence, "them's my potatoes you're
+a-settin' on."
+
+The tramp growled something unintelligible, and the others vouchsafed no
+reply whatsoever.
+
+"I guess it must be purty damp out in that field," continued the
+station-master, "specially for the ladies, and I thought as how I'd let
+yer know as I was a-makin' some coffee over to the station, and yer
+could come and get it if yer liked."
+
+"Yes, and get arrested into the bargain," said Spotts.
+
+"I thought of that," replied the man, "and so I've drawed a line onto
+the platform with this piece of chalk, jest where the boundary be, and
+so long as yer stays to the northard of it yer can't be ketched."
+
+"How are we to know that that is just the boundary?" asked Banborough.
+
+"'Pears to me you're mighty 'spicious. Anyhow, thar's the line and
+thar's the coffee. Yer can take it or leave it, jest as yer likes."
+
+"I'd make it worth your while to bring it to us down here," said Cecil.
+
+"Humph!" returned the maker of beverages. "I don't go totin' coffee all
+round the country, and I'd like to remind yer as potatoes ain't eggs and
+don't need no hatchin', so the sooner you gets through settin' on 'em
+the better I'll be pleased." And turning his back he slouched away to
+the station.
+
+"What do you think about it?" said Banborough to Spotts.
+
+"I think it's a plan," replied the actor. "A New England farmer never
+misses a chance of making a penny when he can do so, and that fellow
+would have been glad enough to sell his coffee to us at a fancy price
+anywhere we chose to drink it if he hadn't been offered more to entice
+us up to the station."
+
+"Well, I'm not going to pass the rest of my days on top of a
+potato-hill," said Mrs. Mackintosh spitefully. "I'm so stiff now I can
+hardly move."
+
+"Yes, I don't think there's much to wait for," agreed Cecil. "But where
+shall we go?"
+
+"To the next station, I guess," said the tramp. "But in Canady that's as
+likely to be thirteen miles as it is two, and this track ain't ballasted
+for a walking-tour."
+
+The fair Violet heaved a deep sigh.
+
+"What is it?" asked Banborough anxiously. "Don't you feel well?"
+
+"I do feel a little faint," she replied, "but I dare say I'll be better
+in a minute. I shouldn't have sighed, only I was thinking what an old
+wretch that station-master is, and how good that coffee would have
+tasted."
+
+"You shall have some," he said, determined not to be outdone again by
+Spotts, "and I'll get it for you myself."
+
+"No, no!" she protested. "I didn't mean that. I shouldn't have said it.
+I wouldn't have you go for worlds. You'd surely be arrested."
+
+"Nonsense!" he replied. "I think I can manage it and get back safely,
+and you and Mrs. Mackintosh must have something sustaining, for you've a
+long walk before you." And, in spite of all remonstrances, he prepared
+to set out on his delicate and dangerous mission.
+
+"What's your plan?" asked Friend Othniel, immensely interested now there
+was a chance of an adventure.
+
+"I'm going to crawl along in the dry ditch beside the railroad track
+till I get up to the station, and then trust to luck. I used to be able
+to do a hundred yards in pretty decent time in my Oxford days, and if I
+can get into the refreshment-room without being seen, I don't think
+they'll catch me."
+
+"Well, good luck to yer," said the tramp, "and if yer should come across
+a hunk of pumpkin pie, don't forget your friend Othniel."
+
+Banborough slipped off his overcoat, and donning a pair of heavy dogskin
+gloves, the property of the driver of the Black Maria, which the tramp
+produced, he watched his opportunity when no one was in sight at the
+station, and, cautioning the rest of the party not to betray by their
+actions that anything unusual was going on, stole across the open field
+and, dropping into the shallow ditch, began his perilous journey.
+
+Within three feet of the edge of the platform all means of concealment
+ceased; but feeling that a bold course was the only one which gave any
+hope of success, Cecil rose quickly, and, slipping across the exposed
+place in an instant, glided into the great woodshed which in that part
+of the world, where coal is expensive, forms an important adjunct to
+every station. He felt himself practically secure here, as no one was
+likely to come for logs so early in the morning; and after waiting for a
+few moments to make certain that his presence had not been discovered,
+he threw himself down on his face, and, crawling noiselessly on
+all-fours across the twenty feet of open platform which intervened
+between the woodshed and the main building, achieved the precarious
+shelter afforded by the side wall of the house. He then wormed himself
+forward till he was close to the front corner; and here his patient
+efforts were at last rewarded, for he heard a few scraps of a
+conversation which, had he been in a less dangerous position, would have
+afforded him infinite amusement.
+
+"I tell you what it is," came the strident voice of the station-master.
+"It ain't no mortal manner of use. Why, they spotted me to onct; said
+how was they to know I drawed the line correct."
+
+"Ha!" said one of the policemen. "Couldn't you go out and dicker with
+them some more?"
+
+"Nope," rejoined the other shortly. "And there's that whole tin o'
+coffee in the back room goin' to waste, and I guess they'd have paid
+more'n a dollar for it."
+
+"Where's Mr. Marchmont?" asked the second speaker, a remark which caused
+Banborough considerable surprise.
+
+"He's been keepin' out o' the way o' them Spaniards," said the
+station-master, "lest they should get a sight of him, 'cause he may have
+to shadow 'em in Canady, and he don't want 'em to get on to who he is.
+He's gone upstairs now to get a snooze, an' that's where I'm goin', too.
+There ain't no train for three hours, and I've had enough o' this durned
+foolishness."
+
+"What's that?" cried the policeman, as a sharp sound smote their ears.
+
+"Tain't nothin' but the back door slammin'," replied the other. "I must
+ha' forgot to latch it. The wind's riz a bit."
+
+"Yes," said the officer, "and it's going to rain presently."
+
+"I guess I'd better go and shet that door."
+
+"No, you stay here; I want to talk to you. We'll let them get thoroughly
+drenched, and you can offer them the hospitality of the woodshed. Maybe
+we could alter the boundary-line a few feet in the interests of
+justice."
+
+Banborough waited to hear no more, but, drawing softly back, sprang to
+his feet and ran noiselessly along the side of the house and round to
+the unlatched door behind. Now, if ever, was his chance. He dashed into
+a room which seemed to be a combination of kitchen and bar, but on the
+stove stood a steaming tin can of savoury coffee, while among the
+bottles on the shelf, just showing out of its paper wrappings, was a
+goodly loaf of white bread. Had he left well alone, and been satisfied
+with the coffee, he would have been all right; but the bread tempted
+him, and to obtain possession of it he must go behind the bar. This he
+hastened to do, unlatching the little swinging gate at the end, when a
+scuffling sound from the room above gave place to heavy foot-falls on
+the boards, and a moment later Marchmont called down the stairs which
+evidently led into the front room:
+
+"Say! One of that gang's in the bar! I saw him come up to the door as I
+was lying in bed!" A bit of information which was instantly followed by
+a clatter of chairs on the front platform.
+
+Wedged in behind the bar, Banborough felt himself trapped. But a happy
+inspiration seizing him, he possessed himself of the can of coffee and,
+with the loaf of bread in his other hand, crawled under the protecting
+shelf, while just at that moment a particularly strong gust of wind blew
+the unlatched door wide open, banging it back against the wall.
+
+To his intense astonishment, Cecil found his hiding-place already
+occupied by the recumbent and sleeping form of a man, and, jumping to
+the conclusion that he must be either a policeman or a detective, he
+promptly sat upon his head with a view to suppressing any inopportune
+remarks. A second later three men rushed into the room, and Banborough
+held his breath. But luck was with him, for one glance at the empty
+stove and the open door satisfied the station-master, who cried:
+
+"Those fellows has bolted with the coffee!" and dashed out at the back,
+followed by the policemen.
+
+In a second Cecil was up and out of the bar, but not before he had
+received a smashing blow in the ribs from the stranger he had so rudely
+awakened. He promptly struck out in return, and from the sputtering and
+thrashing sounds which emanated from under the shelf he judged that his
+blow had gone home.
+
+Snatching up the coffee and the bread, he dashed through to the front of
+the house, and, emerging on the platform, saw a sight which filled his
+heart with joy. On the track stood one of those little flat cars,
+employed by section-men, which is propelled by means of a wheel and
+crank in the centre turned by hand, on the same principle as a
+velocipede.
+
+He sprang upon it, deposited his precious burden, and began turning the
+crank with feverish energy. To his joy, the car at once started
+forward, and under his well-directed pressure went rattling out of the
+station, shooting by his three astonished pursuers as they rounded the
+corner of the woodshed. Two minutes later he arrived in triumph at the
+potato-patch, being warmly welcomed by his admiring companions, who
+forthwith fell to and made a satisfying, if frugal, meal.
+
+Just as they were finishing, the station-master came up, and, being
+rendered thoroughly amiable by a liberal recompense for the stolen
+viands, so far forgot himself, in his appreciation of Banborough's
+pluck, as to admit that there was no objection to their taking the flat
+car on to the next station, provided they could square it with the
+superintendent on arrival, as there were no trains due either way.
+
+"How far is the next station?" asked Cecil, as the party clambered on to
+the car.
+
+"About twelve miles," said Miss Arminster.
+
+"Do you know it?" asked Banborough, still glowing under her praises of
+his prowess.
+
+"Oh, yes," she replied softly. "I was married there last June."
+
+The Englishman, muttering something under his breath, seized the handles
+and, giving them a vicious turn, sent the car spinning northwards.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+IN WHICH A LOCKET IS ACCEPTED AND A RING REFUSED.
+
+
+Something over a week after the events narrated in the last chapter,
+Banborough was lounging in the office of the Windsor Hotel at Montreal.
+The course of events had run more smoothly for the party since the day
+they arrived in the city, weary and travel-stained with their
+adventurous trip. Montreal in general, and the manager of the Windsor in
+particular, were accustomed to see travellers from the States appear in
+all sorts of garbs and all kinds of conditions incident to a hasty
+departure, so their coming occasioned little comment; and as Cecil never
+did things by halves, they were soon rehabilitated and installed in the
+best apartments the hotel could offer.
+
+The various members of the party, after the first excitement was over,
+had relapsed into a listless existence, which, however, was destined to
+be rudely disturbed, for while the Englishman's thoughts were wandering
+in anything but a practical direction, he was aroused from his reverie
+by a well-known voice, and, turning, found himself face to face with
+Marchmont.
+
+"Well, who on earth would have thought of seeing you here?" exclaimed
+the journalist. "Have you fled to Canada to escape being lionised?"
+
+"No," said Banborough cautiously, "not exactly for that reason."
+
+"We couldn't imagine what had become of you," continued his friend.
+"You're the hero of the hour in New York, I can tell you, and 'The
+Purple Kangaroo' is achieving the greatest success of the decade."
+
+"Oh, confound 'The Purple Kangaroo--'!"
+
+"That's right; run it down. Your modesty becomes you. But seriously, old
+man, let me congratulate you. You must be making heaps out of it."
+
+"Let's talk about something else," said Banborough wearily, for he was
+heartily sick of his unfortunate novel. "You ask me why I'm here. I'll
+return the compliment. Why are you?"
+
+"Why," returned Marchmont, "you're partially to blame for it, you know.
+I'm after those Spanish conspirators. Of course you've heard the story?"
+
+"No," said Banborough. "I haven't been in town for a fortnight. What is
+it?"
+
+"Well, we arrested a lovely señorita on Fourteenth Street who was using
+the title of your novel as a password. I can tell you confidentially
+that there's no doubt that she's one of the cleverest and most
+unscrupulous female spies in the Spanish secret service; and while they
+were deciding where to take her, a stranger, who we're certain was one
+of the Secretaries of their Legation, eloped with her, Black Maria and
+all, with the recklessness of a true hidalgo. They were joined by a
+band outside the city, where they overcame a Justice of the Peace who
+arrested them, after a desperate resistance on his part. The story of
+this unequal battle was one of the finest bits of bravery we've had for
+years.
+
+"After dining at a hotel at Yonkers they held up the waiter with
+revolvers and escaped. Similar audacities were perpetrated at the
+boundary-line between the United States and Canada, and in spite of the
+most intelligent and valiant efforts on the part of the police, aided by
+our own special corps of detectives, they've so far eluded us. Their
+leader's said to be a perfect devil, who, as I tell you, is certainly a
+Secretary of the Spanish Legation."
+
+"How do you know that?" asked Banborough.
+
+"Ah," said Marchmont, looking wise and shaking his head, "the _Daily
+Leader_ has private sources of information. I wonder you've not heard
+anything of this."
+
+"Yes," acquiesced the Englishman, "it _is_ curious, isn't it?"
+
+"But," continued his friend, "you haven't told me yet why you came to
+Montreal."
+
+"Well," said Cecil, laughing, "I can at least assure you that my trip
+here has been much less eventful than the one you described."
+
+"By the way," said the journalist, "have you seen the last editorial
+about your book in the _Daily Leader_?"
+
+The Englishman shook his head.
+
+"No? Well, here goes." And Marchmont began to read forthwith:
+
+"'English conservatism has recently received a shock from the scion of
+Blanford, and the Bishop's son, in connection with 'The Purple
+Kangaroo,' has caused the British lion to hump himself into the hotbed
+of American politics--'"
+
+"Oh, shut up!" said Cecil, with more force than politeness.
+
+"Don't you like it?" exclaimed the journalist. "There's a column and a
+half more. I blue-pencilled a copy and sent it over to your old man."
+
+Banborough groaned.
+
+"But," continued Marchmont, "this isn't anything to what we'll do when
+we've hounded the Dons out of Canada."
+
+"What?" cried the author.
+
+"Yes," went on his friend. "We've complained to your Foreign Office, and
+within a week every Spanish conspirator will receive notice to quit Her
+Majesty's North American colonies on pain of instant arrest and
+deportation."
+
+Cecil waited to hear no more, but, pleading an imperative engagement,
+rushed away to summon the members of his party to a hurried council of
+war in their private sitting-room. All were present with the exception
+of Miss Arminster, who had gone to spend the day at a convent in the
+suburbs, where she had been brought up as a child.
+
+After an hour of useless debating the council ended, as Banborough might
+have foreseen from the first, in the party giving up any solution of the
+problem as hopeless, and putting themselves unreservedly in his hands to
+lead them out of their difficulties. Cecil, who felt himself ill
+equipped for the rôle of a Moses, jammed his hat on his head, lit his
+pipe, and, thrusting his hands in his pockets, said he was going out
+where he could be quiet and think about it.
+
+"Going to the Blue Nunnery, he means," said Smith, laughing, and nudging
+Spotts.
+
+The actor grunted. Apparently the author's attentions to the fascinating
+Violet did not meet with his unqualified approval.
+
+An hour later Banborough stood in the grey old garden of the nunnery,
+the sister who was his guide silently pointing out to him the figure of
+the little actress, whose bright garments were in striking contrast to
+the severe simplicity of her surroundings. When the Englishman turned to
+thank the nun, she had disappeared, and he and Miss Arminster had the
+garden to themselves.
+
+She stood with her back to him, bending over some roses, unconscious of
+his presence, and for a few moments he remained silent, watching her
+unobserved. The ten days which had passed had done much to alter his
+position towards her, and he had come to fully realise that he was
+honestly in love with this woman. Even the fact of her having been
+married at Ste. Anne de Beau Pré, which information he had elicited from
+her on the occasion of their pilgrimage to that shrine a few days
+before, had not served to cool his ardour. Indeed, the fact that his
+suit seemed hopeless made him all the more anxious to win her for his
+wife.
+
+After he had been watching her for some minutes, a subtle intuition
+seemed to tell her of his presence, and he approached her as she raised
+her face from the roses to greet him.
+
+"I came to see you--" he began, and paused, hardly knowing how to
+continue.
+
+"Am I not then allowed even one holiday?" she asked.
+
+"Is my presence so much of a burden?" he inquired, realising for the
+first time the full force of what her statement implied, as a hurried
+mental review of the past fortnight showed him that he had scarcely ever
+been absent from her side. Indeed, it no longer seemed natural not to
+be with her.
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean to be rude," she said, "but I do like a day out of
+the world occasionally. You know, when I come back here I forget for the
+time that I've ever lived any other life than that which is associated
+with this dear old place."
+
+He thought grimly that a young lady who had been married four times
+before she was twenty-five must have to undergo a considerable amount of
+mental obliteration.
+
+"I think you'd tire of it very soon if you had to live here always," he
+said.
+
+"I'm not sure," she replied. "I think--but of course you wouldn't
+understand that--only, life on the stage isn't all bright and amusing,
+and there are times when one simply longs for a quiet, old-world place
+like this."
+
+"I believe you'd like Blanford," he suggested.
+
+"I should love it," she assured him. "But what would your father say to
+me? I'd probably shock him out of his gaiters--if he wears them. Does
+he?"
+
+"I suppose so," said Cecil. The fact was that the raiment of the Bishop
+of Blanford did not particularly interest him at that moment. He had
+more important things to talk about, things that had no connection
+whatsoever with the immediate future of the A. B. C. Company. Yet the
+mention of his father caused him to stop and think, and thought, in this
+case, proved fatal to sentiment. He thrust his hands into his pockets
+and addressed himself to the more prosaic topics of life, saying:
+
+"My excuse for intruding on you is that our troubles are by no means
+over. The authorities, not content with driving us out of the United
+States, are preparing to order us out of Canada as well, and the
+question of where we are to go is decidedly perplexing."
+
+"Oh, dear!" said the little woman, "I think I'll go into the convent
+after all."
+
+"That settles the difficulty as far as you're concerned. Do you think
+they'd admit me?"
+
+"Don't talk nonsense. What do the others say?"
+
+"Oh, they say a good many things, but nothing practical, so I came to
+you for advice."
+
+"Well, to speak frankly," she replied, "if I were you, I'd drop us all
+and run away home. It's much the easiest solution of the difficulty."
+
+"Excuse me," he said. "I'm a gentleman, and besides--"
+
+"Well, what?"
+
+"Besides," he continued, thinking it better to be discreet, "I doubt if
+I should be welcome. I've a letter from the governor in my pocket, which
+I haven't yet had courage to open. I dare say it won't be pleasant
+reading; besides which, it's been chasing me round the country for the
+last five or six weeks, and must be rather ancient history."
+
+"Look at it and see," she advised. "They may be ready to kill the fatted
+calf for you, after all."
+
+"I'm afraid they do regard me rather in the light of a prodigal," he
+admitted. "However, here goes." And breaking the seal of the envelope,
+he read the letter aloud:
+
+  "THE PALACE, BLANFORD.
+
+  "MY DEAR SON:
+
+     "Do you realise that it is nearly a year since your Aunt Matilda
+     and I have received news of you? This has been a source of great
+     grief and pain to both of us, but it has not moved me to anger. It
+     has rather caused me to devote such hours as I could spare from
+     the preparation of my series of sermons on the miracle of Jonah to
+     personal introspection, in the endeavour to discover, if possible,
+     whether the cause of our estrangement lay in any defect of my own.
+
+     "It may be that you achieve a certain degree of spiritual
+     enlightenment in producing a book entitled 'The Purple Kangaroo.'
+     I hope so, though I have not read it. Nor do I wholly agree with
+     your good aunt, who contends that the title savours too much of
+     the Apocrypha, and I say nothing of the undesirable popularity you
+     seem to have attained in the United States. I only ask you to come
+     home.
+
+     "As a proof of her reconciliation, your aunt included a copy of
+     your book in her last mission box to the Ojibway Indians. I shall
+     always be glad to receive and make welcome any of your friends at
+     the palace, no matter how different their tastes and principles
+     may be to my own well-defined course of action.
+
+     "In the hope of better things,
+
+  "YOUR AFFECTIONATE FATHER."
+
+"Of course you'll go," Violet said softly.
+
+"Oh, I don't know about that," he replied.
+
+"I do," she returned. "It's your duty. What a dear old chap he must
+be!--so thoroughly prosy and honest. I'm sure I should love him. I know
+just the sort of man he is. A downright Nonconformist minister of the
+midland counties, who was consecrated a Bishop by mistake."
+
+Cecil paused a minute, thinking it over.
+
+"How about the others?" he said.
+
+"Ah, yes," she replied, "the others. But perhaps you don't class them as
+your friends."
+
+"Oh, it isn't that," he answered. "Only I was wondering--"
+
+"What the Bishop would say?" she asked, looking at him with a roguish
+smile. "Well, why not take him at his word and find out."
+
+"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "I will! I believe you've hit on the very best
+possible solution of our difficulty. The episcopal palace at Blanford is
+absolutely the last place in the world where any one would think of
+looking for a political conspirator, and, by some freak of fortune, the
+police are entirely ignorant that I'm in any way connected with your
+flight."
+
+"Good! then it's settled!" she cried. "And we'll all accompany you."
+
+"Ye-es, only the governor wouldn't go within a hundred yards of a
+theatre, and my aunt calls actors children of--I forget whom--some one
+in the Old Testament."
+
+"Belial," suggested Miss Arminster.
+
+"That's it. How did you know?"
+
+"You forget," she said, "I was brought up in a convent."
+
+"It'll never do," he continued, "for them to suspect who you really
+are."
+
+"Are we not actors?"
+
+"Of course. We must have a dress rehearsal at once, and cast you for
+your parts. But there's Friend Othniel--"
+
+"Ah, yes," she said. "He's impossible."
+
+"We must drop him somehow."
+
+"That's easily managed," she replied. "Pay his hotel bill, and leave him
+a note with a nice little cheque in it to be delivered after we've
+gone."
+
+"Then we must get away quickly, or he'll suspect."
+
+"The sooner the better."
+
+"I noticed that there was a ship sailing from Montreal for England this
+afternoon."
+
+"That'll just suit our purpose," she said. "Friend Othniel told me he
+was going to walk up Mount Royal after lunch and wouldn't be back before
+six."
+
+"And you'll really come to Blanford?" he asked, taking her hand.
+
+"Of course," she said. "Why should you doubt it?"
+
+"Because," he replied, "it seems too good to be true. I was thinking,
+hoping, that perhaps I might persuade you to come there for good, and
+never go away."
+
+"Ah," she interrupted him, "you're not going to say that?"
+
+"Why not?" he asked.
+
+"Because we've been such friends," she answered, "and it's quite
+impossible."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"Perfectly. And oh, I didn't want you to say it."
+
+"But can't we be friends still?" he insisted.
+
+"With all my heart, if you'll forget this mad dream. It would have been
+impossible, even if I were free. Your people would never have accepted
+me, and I would only have been a drag on you."
+
+"No, no!" he denied vehemently.
+
+"There," she said, "we won't talk about it. You've been one of the best
+friends I ever had, and--what's in that locket you wear?"
+
+"That?" he replied, touching a little blue-enamelled case that hung from
+his watch-chain. "It has nothing more interesting in it at present than
+a picture of myself. But I'd hoped--"
+
+"Give it to me, will you," she asked, "in remembrance of to-day?"
+
+He detached it silently from his chain, and, pressing it to his lips,
+placed it in her hand.
+
+"I'll always wear it," she said.
+
+There was an awkward silence for a moment, and then, pulling himself
+together, he remarked brusquely:
+
+"I suppose we'd better be starting for town."
+
+"I'll join you later," she replied. "I want to go to mid-day service in
+the little church next to this convent. Such a pretty little church. I
+was married there once."
+
+"You were what? Are you really serious, Miss Arminster?"
+
+"Perfectly," she answered, giving him a bewitching little smile as she
+tripped out of the garden.
+
+
+
+
+PART II.
+
+
+_ENGLAND_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+IN WHICH MRS. MACKINTOSH ADMIRES JONAH.
+
+
+"I think, Matilda, that you must have neglected to put any sugar in my
+tea," said the Bishop of Blanford, pushing his cup towards his sister,
+after tasting the first mouthful.
+
+"You're quite right, Josephus, I did," she replied.
+
+"And," continued his Lordship, who, being near-sighted, was poking
+about, after the manner of a mole, in the three-storied brass bird-cage
+which held the more substantial portion of the repast, "there doesn't
+seem to be any cake."
+
+"You forget," said Miss Matilda sternly, "that it's an ember-day."
+
+Her brother said nothing, and took a mouthful of the tea, which, like
+the morality of the palace, was strong and bitter. But his ample chest
+expanded with just the slightest sigh of regret, causing the massive
+episcopal cross of gold filigree, set with a single sapphire, which
+rested thereon, to rise and fall gently. Miss Matilda's hawklike eye saw
+and noted this as the first slight sign of rebellion, and she hastened
+to mete out justice swift and stern, saying:
+
+"You remember, Josephus, that there's a special service at the mission
+church at five, at which I consider you ought to be present."
+
+His Lordship had not forgotten it, or the circumstance that the
+afternoon was exceedingly hot, and that the mission church, which was
+situated in an outlying slum, was made of corrugated tin. The palace
+garden would have been infinitely preferable, and he knew that had he
+accepted sugarless tea without a murmur, his chaplain would have
+sweltered in his place. As it was, he submitted meekly, and his sister
+gazed at him with a satisfied expression of triumph across her bright
+green tea-cloth. If Miss Matilda had a weakness, it was for
+ecclesiastical tea-cloths. White was reserved for Sundays and
+feast-days; on ordinary occasions, at this time of the year, her ritual
+prescribed green.
+
+They were seated in the garden of the palace, a peaceful Arcadia which
+it was difficult to realise was only separated from a dusty and concrete
+world by a battlemented wall which formed the horizon. The sky overhead
+was so blue and cloudless that it might have formed the background for
+an Italian landscape, and framed against it was the massive tower of the
+cathedral, its silver-greys darkening almost to black, as a buttress
+here and there brought it in shadow. Among its pinnacles a few wise old
+rooks flapped lazily in the still air, as much a part of their
+surroundings as the stately swans that floated on the stream which
+lapped the foot of the tower, while on all sides there stretched away a
+great sweep of that perfect verdure which only England knows.
+
+"It's nearly two months since I last wrote to Cecil," said the Bishop,
+judging it wise to change the trend of the conversation, "and I've not
+heard a word."
+
+"I'm sure I should be surprised if you had," snapped Miss Matilda. "And
+what your sainted Sarah would have felt, had she lived to see her son's
+disgraceful career, makes me shudder."
+
+The Bishop started to sigh again. Then, thinking better of it, stopped.
+He had returned to Blanford from his rest-cure a week before, and
+apparently the air of Scotland had not proved as beneficial as he had
+expected.
+
+"I believe that Cecil will come back to us," he said, ignoring his
+sister's last remark. "I told him that his friends would be welcome here
+in future, and I particularly mentioned that you'd put a copy of his
+book in your last missionary box."
+
+"I hope you didn't neglect to say that I tore out all the pictures. A
+more scandalous collection--"
+
+But she never finished her denunciation of the novel, for just at that
+moment the Bishop sprang to his feet with a glad cry of "Cecil!"
+
+The young man came running across the lawn to meet his father, seizing
+him warmly by the hand, and having administered a dutiful peck to his
+aunt, turned to introduce the little group of strangers who had
+accompanied him.
+
+"Father," he said, "these are my friends. On the strength of your letter
+I've taken the liberty of asking them to be my guests as well."
+
+"They're very welcome to the palace," said the Bishop.
+
+Cecil turned, and leading the two ladies forward, presented them to his
+father and his aunt. Miss Matilda swept them both with a comprehensive
+glance, and addressing Mrs. Mackintosh, remarked:
+
+"Your daughter, I presume," indicating Miss Arminster. Whereupon the
+good lady coloured violently and denied the fact.
+
+"Your niece?" insisted Miss Matilda, who was an excellent catechist, as
+generations of unfortunate children could bear witness.
+
+"A young lady whom I'm chaperoning in Europe," replied Mrs. Mackintosh
+stiffly, in an effort to be truthful, and at the same time to furnish
+Violet with a desirable status in the party.
+
+The tragedian was now brought forward.
+
+"Allow me," said Banborough, in pursuance of a prearranged scheme of
+action--"allow me to introduce my friend Professor Tybalt Smith. You,
+father, are of course acquainted with his scholarly work on monumental
+brasses."
+
+The Bishop naturally was not conversant with the book in question,
+because it had never been written, but he was entirely too pedantic to
+admit the fact; so he smiled, and congratulated the Professor most
+affably on what he termed "his well-known attainments," assuring him
+that he would find in the cathedral a rich field of research in his
+particular line of work.
+
+Spotts was now brought up, and introduced as a rising young architect of
+ecclesiastical tendencies, which delighted his Lordship immensely as
+there was nothing he liked better than to explain every detail of his
+cathedral to an appreciative listener.
+
+"I've a bit of old dog-tooth I shall want you to look at to-morrow,"
+said his host, "and there's some Roman tiling in the north transept that
+absolutely demands your attention."
+
+Spotts smiled assent, but was evidently bewildered, and seizing the
+first opportunity that offered, asked Cecil in a low voice if his father
+took him for a dentist or a mason.
+
+"For a dentist or a mason?" queried Banborough. "I don't understand."
+
+"Well, anyway, he said something about looking after his old dog's teeth
+and attending to his tiles."
+
+Cecil exploded in a burst of laughter, saying:
+
+"That's only the architectural jargon, man. You must play the game."
+
+"Oh, I see," said the actor. "It's about his ramshackle old church.
+Well, I'll do my best--" But his assurances were cut short by the flow
+of his Lordship's conversation.
+
+"As I was saying, Mr. Spotts," he continued, "I should be much
+interested to hear your American views on the subject of a clerestory."
+
+"Sure," replied the actor, plunging recklessly. "I always believe in
+having four clear stories at least, and in New York and Chicago we run
+'em up as high as--" But here a premonitory kick from Cecil brought his
+speech to an abrupt termination.
+
+"Most astonishing," commented his Lordship. "I've never heard of more
+than one."
+
+"Oh, our Western churches are chock-full of new wrinkles."
+
+"Of new--what? I don't understand. Another cup' of tea for you, Mrs.
+Mackintosh? Certainly. We must pursue this subject at leisure, Mr.
+Spotts."
+
+The party now turned their attention to the repast, and the Bishop
+proceeded to devote himself to Mrs. Mackintosh.
+
+"I'm afraid," he said, when he had seen her sufficiently fortified with
+tea containing a due allowance of sugar, and supplemented by a plateful
+of cake which he had ordered to be brought as a practical substitute for
+the scriptural calf--"I'm afraid you will find our simple life at
+Blanford very dull."
+
+"Dear sakes, no!" said that lady, hitching her chair up closer to the
+Bishop for a confidential chat--an action on her part which elicited a
+flashing glance of disapproval from Miss Matilda.
+
+"I've heard all about you," she went on, "from your son Cecil. You don't
+mind if I call him Cecil, do you? for I'm almost old enough to be his
+mother. Well, as I was saying, when he told me about the cathedral and
+the beeches and the rooks and you, all being here, hundreds of years
+old--"
+
+"Excuse me, madam," said his Lordship, "I'm hardly as aged as that."
+
+"Of course I didn't mean you, stupid! How literal you English are!"
+
+It is highly probable that in all the sixty years of his well-ordered
+existence the Bishop of Blanford had never been called "stupid" by
+anybody. He gasped, and the episcopal cross, and even the heavy gold
+chain by which it depended from his neck, were unduly agitated. Then he
+decided that he liked it, and determined to continue the conversation.
+
+"When I thought of all that," said Mrs. Mackintosh, "I said to your son:
+'Cecil,' said I, 'your father's like that old board fence in my back
+yard; he needs a coat of whitewash to freshen him up, and I'm going over
+to put it on.'"
+
+"Cromwell," remarked the Bishop, "applied enough whitewash to Blanford
+to last it for several centuries. Indeed, we've not succeeded in
+restoring all the frescoes yet."
+
+"Nonsense, man," said Mrs. Mackintosh, "you don't see the point at all.
+Now what do you take when your liver's out of order?"
+
+"Really, madam," faltered the Bishop, thoroughly aghast at this new turn
+in the conversation, "I--er--generally consult my medical adviser."
+
+"Well, you shouldn't!" said Mrs. Mackintosh with determination. "You
+should take what we call in my country a pick-me-up. Now I said to your
+son: 'I'm going to be a mental and moral pick-me-up for your father.
+What he needs is a new point of view. If you don't take care, he'll
+fossilise, and you'll have to put him in the British Museum.'"
+
+The Bishop's reflections during this conversation were many and varied.
+What he was pleased to term his inner moral consciousness told him he
+ought to be shocked at its flippancy; the rest of his mental make-up was
+distinctly refreshed. Besides, a certain tension in the social
+atmosphere suggested that Miss Matilda was about to go forth to battle,
+so he smiled graciously, saying:
+
+"It's certainly very considerate of you to undertake all this on my
+account, but I should not like to be in any one's debt, and I hardly see
+how I can repay my obligations."
+
+"I'm just coming to that," said Mrs. Mackintosh. "I don't say that I
+shouldn't be doing a Christian act by taking you in hand, but I'm free
+to admit that I've a personal interest in the matter, for you're the
+one man in England I most wanted to meet."
+
+"But what can there possibly be about me--" began the Bishop.
+
+"It isn't about you," replied his guest. "It's about Jonah."
+
+"Josephus," broke in the harsh voice of his sister, "the bell of the
+mission chapel has been ringing for some time."
+
+The Bishop drew a long breath and formed a mighty resolve. At last he
+had met a person who took an intelligent interest in Jonah, a Biblical
+character to whose history he had devoted exhaustive research. It was a
+golden opportunity not to be let slip. So, turning to his sister and
+looking her squarely in the eyes, he replied boldly that he was quite
+aware of the fact.
+
+"If you do not go at once you'll be late," remarked that lady.
+
+"I've not the slightest intention of going at all," said the Bishop.
+"I'm talking to Mrs. Mackintosh, who is, it seems, much interested in
+Jonah."
+
+There came a sound as of spluttering from the upraised tea-cup of
+Professor Tybalt Smith, and Miss Matilda gave a distinctly aggressive
+sniff.
+
+"If you're not going, Josephus," she retorted, "I must send word to one
+of the chaplains, though after what you had said I naturally--" But
+there she paused, arrested by the incredible fact that for the first
+time in her experience her brother was not listening to what she was
+saying. Her silence commanded his attention.
+
+"Oh," he replied, looking up vacantly, "do what you think proper," and
+turned again to Mrs. Mackintosh, who proceeded placidly with her theme.
+
+"Of course," she said, "you hear a lot about seeing with the eye of
+faith, but I like to see with the eye of understanding, too, and I never
+yet sat under a preacher who was what I should call 'up to Jonah.' I
+read your book when it came out. It was one of the prizes they offered
+for selling on commission fifty packets of Tinker's Tannin Tea, and I've
+been wild to meet you ever since. I have been a-whaling, so to speak,
+for years, but I expect you to carry me safely into port."
+
+"Madam," said the Bishop, "you overwhelm me." He was immensely flattered
+by her appreciative, if outspoken, commendation. "I'm now," he
+continued, "at work on a set of supplementary sermons on this very
+subject; and if it wouldn't be imposing too much on your good nature to
+let me read them to you, or parts of them--they embrace some six hundred
+pages."
+
+Mrs. Mackintosh looked at him regretfully.
+
+"Isn't there any more than that?" she said. "I wanted three volumes at
+least."
+
+The Bishop beamed with gratification.
+
+"I trust," he replied, "that they'll be worthy of your attention. But my
+treatment of the subject is--er--slightly doctrinal, and perhaps you're
+not a member of the Church of England."
+
+"Well, no," said Mrs. Mackintosh. "I can't say as I am. I was baptised a
+Methodist, brought up in a Roman Catholic convent, finished at a
+Presbyterian boarding-school, and married before a Justice of the Peace
+to a Unitarian, and since I've been a widow I've attended a Baptist
+church regularly; but I don't believe I'd mind a few weeks of an
+Episcopalian, specially seeing he's a Bishop, which I haven't
+experienced before."
+
+"I shall endeavour to do my best, madam," said his Lordship. "Perhaps I
+may even lead you--in time--"
+
+"Well, I shouldn't be surprised but what you might," replied Mrs.
+Mackintosh, "but I mustn't take up all your time. I want you to know my
+little friend Miss Arminster. She's one of the nicest girls that ever
+was."
+
+"I shall be delighted," said his Lordship. "Arminster," he continued
+reflectively. "Does she come from the Arminsters of Shropshire?"
+
+Mrs. Mackintosh laughed.
+
+"I'm sure I don't know," she replied, "but from the way her friends
+speak of her, you'd think she came from Noah's Ark."
+
+"Dear me!" said the Bishop. "That's very curious."
+
+"They call her the Leopard," she went on, "and I must say for my part
+that I'm 'most as fond of the Leopard as I am of Jonah's whale." And she
+rose and joined the group about the tea-table, for she did not wish to
+try Miss Matilda's patience too far.
+
+"I don't know what you'll think of our quiet life. I fear it'll seem
+very strange to you," said his Lordship, addressing himself to Miss
+Arminster.
+
+"I think it'll be jolly," she replied promptly, looking up at him
+playfully to see whether he would bear chaffing, "and," she added, after
+due deliberation, "I think you're a dear, and your uniform is just
+sweet. I always did love a uniform. I used to be awfully gone, as a
+child, on a policeman at the corner of our block, but you're much more
+nicely dressed than he was."
+
+His Lordship started to say something crushing in regard to the sanctity
+of ecclesiastical trappings, but another glance at the bewitching
+little figure that confronted him caused him to remark instead that he
+was glad she approved of him, and that he would try to take better care
+of her than even a guardian of the law.
+
+"Oh, I'm afraid I've said something shocking!" she exclaimed in a
+delightfully naïve manner, "and I did mean to be so good and decorous.
+I'm sure I'll need a lot of teaching."
+
+"I shall be delighted to undertake the task," he replied gallantly.
+"Suppose we begin by going to evensong. Would you like to do so?"
+
+"Rather," she returned; "but I'm afraid," looking at her
+travelling-costume, "that I'm hardly dressed for the part--I mean the
+occasion."
+
+"Dear me!" said the Bishop, scrutinizing her keenly, "it seems to be a
+very pretty gown."
+
+"Oh, that's all right," she said. "Then we'll go at once."
+
+"So we shall," he replied, "and you shall sit in the stalls."
+
+"How jolly!" she exclaimed. "I almost always have to sit in the
+balcony."
+
+"Really?" said his Lordship. "You don't say so. But from what Mr. Spotts
+says, I should judge that the architecture of American churches was
+novel." And they walked across the lawn to the cathedral.
+
+A few moments later, Miss Matilda, having dismissed her guests to their
+rooms, found herself alone with her nephew.
+
+"Well," she said, turning on him sharply, "perhaps at last you'll
+condescend to tell me who these _friends_ of yours are?"
+
+"They're a party of ladies and gentlemen with whom I've been travelling
+in America," Cecil replied. "And as we'd agreed to join forces for the
+rest of the summer, I'd no option but to invite them here as my guests.
+The gentlemen I've already introduced to you--"
+
+"Oh, the gentlemen!" snapped his aunt. "I've no concern about them.
+It's the women I--"
+
+"The ladies, Aunt Matilda."
+
+"The ladies, then. Your father, in what he is pleased to call his
+wisdom, has seen fit to allow you to introduce these persons into his
+house. I'm sure I hope he won't regret it! But I must insist on knowing
+something about the people whom I'm entertaining."
+
+"As I've told you already," he replied very quietly, "they're ladies
+whom I've met in America. I might also add that they've good manners and
+are uniformly courteous."
+
+Miss Matilda tilted her nose till its tip pointed straight at the spire
+of the cathedral, and, without any reply, swept past him into the house.
+
+Dinner, that night, in spite of his aunt's efforts to the contrary, was
+an unqualified success. The Bishop hailed with joy any interruption in
+the monotony of his daily life, and made himself most agreeable, while
+his guests seconded him to the best of their ability.
+
+The meal being over, his Lordship proposed a rubber of whist, a
+relaxation of which he was very fond, but which, in the reduced state of
+his family, he was seldom able to enjoy. Mrs. Mackintosh and Smith, as
+the two best players of the party, expressed themselves as willing to
+take a hand, and Miss Matilda made up the fourth.
+
+"You'll excuse me," said his Lordship apologetically to Mrs. Mackintosh,
+"if we play only for threepenny points. Were I a curate I could play for
+sixpence, but in my position the stakes are necessarily limited."
+
+"You don't ever mean to say," exclaimed the old lady, "that you're a
+gambling Bishop!"
+
+"My brother," interrupted Miss Matilda, "is a pattern of upright living
+to his day and generation. But of course if you're incapable of
+understanding the difference between a sinful wager of money and the few
+pence necessary to keep up the interest of the game--"
+
+"Gambling is gambling, to my mind," said Mrs. Mackintosh, "whether you
+play for dollars or doughnuts!"
+
+"The point seems well taken," remarked the Bishop meditatively. "It's
+certainly never struck me in that light before; but if you think--"
+
+"I think," said the old lady decidedly, "that it's lucky for you that
+there are no whales in Blanford!"
+
+Miss Matilda threw down her cards.
+
+"If I'm to be called a gambler under my own brother's roof," she said,
+"I shall refuse to play. Besides I've a headache." And she rose
+majestically from the table.
+
+"But, my dear," began the Bishop meekly, "if we cannot find a fourth
+hand--"
+
+"If Miss Banborough doesn't feel up to playing," came the sweet tones of
+Violet's voice, "I'll be delighted to take her place." And a moment
+later she was ensconced at the table.
+
+The Bishop's sister retired to a corner with the largest and most
+aggressive volume of sermons she could find, and sniffed loudly at
+intervals all the evening. And when at ten o'clock, in response to the
+summons of an impressive functionary clad in black and bearing a wand
+surmounted by a silver cross, the little party filed out to evening
+devotions in the chapel, Miss Matilda gathered her skirts around her as
+if she feared contagion.
+
+"I'm afraid of that old cat," Mrs. Mackintosh confided to Violet, when
+they had reached the haven of their apartments. "I'm sure she suspects
+us already; and if we're not careful, she'll find us out."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+IN WHICH THE ENEMY ARRIVES.
+
+
+"I say, boss," remarked the tramp, as he paused for a moment in the
+process of stuffing himself to repletion with cold game-pie, "this is a
+rum trip, and no mistake."
+
+"What's that got to do with you?" retorted Marchmont sharply,
+appropriating the remaining fragments of the pasty to his own use.
+
+The two men were seated in the shady angle of a ruined buttress, a
+portion of a stately abbey, which in pre-Norman days had flourished at a
+spot some half-dozen miles from the site of Blanford.
+
+"Well," said the tramp, "if this ain't a wild-goose chase I dunno what
+you calls it. Here you've gone an' took me away from my happy home, an'
+brought me across the ragin' Atlantic, an' dumped me in a moth-eaten
+little village where there ain't nothin' fit to drink, all because I
+happened to chum with a Bishop."
+
+"You seem to forget," said Marchmont, "that it was you who came to me,
+offering to sell your friends and their secrets for a sufficient
+remuneration."
+
+"So I did," said the tramp; "but it was revenge, that's what it
+was--revenge. I was deserted in a furrin land, with just my board-bill
+paid, and not a penny to bless myself with."
+
+"Ah," said Marchmont. "That's the reason, I suppose, why you came from
+Montreal to New York in a parlour car."
+
+The tramp sighed despondently, saying:
+
+"Now whoever told you that, boss?"
+
+"Nobody. I found the Pullman check in your coat-pocket when I was
+looking for my diamond ring, which you'd absent-mindedly placed there."
+
+"Humph!" replied the other. "There ain't no foolin' you!"
+
+"I should be a pretty poor journalist if there were," said his employer.
+"Now give me the story again, and see if you can get it straight."
+
+"Well, there ain't nothin' much to tell, 'cept I was carried off by them
+Spanish conspirators in mistake for a lady, which I in no-wise
+resembles, an' the bloke as was the head of the gang was allus called
+the Bishop, and a pretty rum Bishop he was."
+
+"Never mind about his qualifications," interrupted Marchmont shortly;
+adding to himself, "That explains his son's presence in Montreal."
+
+"Well, this Bishop," continued the tramp, "used to talk about his palace
+at Blanford; and when the party give me the go-by, I gathered from the
+porter as took their traps that they'd gone to England; and the
+elevator-boy, he heard the Bishop say to the little actress as they'd be
+as safe at the palace as they would anywhere. And then I come on to New
+York and blew it into you."
+
+"Yes," said Marchmont, "and I've given you a first-class passage to
+England, paid your board and lodging, and kept you full for the best
+part of three weeks; and what do I get out of it?"
+
+"I admit as we haven't had much results as yet," said the tramp. "But
+now things is goin' to hum. The Bishop and his whole gang's coming over
+to these very ruins to-day."
+
+"How did you find that out?" demanded the journalist.
+
+"Footman up to the palace told me. I give him a little jamboree last
+night at the 'Three Jolly Sailor-boys.'"
+
+"Yes, and had to be carried home dead-drunk. Nice one you are to keep a
+secret."
+
+"Well, I was only a-doin' me duty," said the tramp in an aggrieved tone
+of voice, "and if they don't know you're after 'em, and you should
+happen to be inspectin' the ruins at the same time as they are, you
+could get chummy with 'em without half tryin'."
+
+"I'll attend to that," said the newspaper man. "I've just had a cable
+from the _Daily Leader_ telling me to hustle if I want to get that
+position, and I've got to do something, and do it quick. But it'll never
+do for you to be seen. Once they know we're together, the game's up. I
+can't have you larking round with the servants either. You'll spoil the
+whole show. You've got to go back to Dullhampton this afternoon."
+
+"What! that little one-horse fishing-town?"
+
+"Yes, that's where you're wanted. It's the nearest port to Blanford, and
+it's where they'll try and get out of the country if they're hard
+pressed. You just stay there and keep your eyes open till you hear from
+me."
+
+The tramp growled surlily, and reluctantly prepared to obey.
+
+"Now, then," said Marchmont shortly, "get a move on. Yes, you can take
+the provender with you. It'll help to keep your mouth shut."
+
+As the tramp slouched round the corner and out of sight, his master
+stretched himself comfortably on the ground, and supporting his head on
+one arm, with his straw hat tilted over his eyes to protect them from
+the sun, he proceeded to go peacefully to sleep.
+
+Scarcely had the journalist composed himself to slumber, when the ruins
+were invaded by the party from the palace. It was now about a month
+since Cecil and his friends had arrived at Blanford, and though this
+expedition to the old abbey had been often discussed, one thing and
+another had intervened to prevent its being put into execution.
+
+After her first burst of antagonism, Miss Matilda had settled down to a
+formal hospitality which was, if anything, more disconcerting. Tybalt
+Smith alone had achieved a favourable position in her eyes, and this
+only as the result of a very considerable amount of flattery and
+attention. At first his friends were at a loss to account for his
+attitude, but as time went on it appeared that the tragedian had not
+exerted himself for nothing. "The dear Professor" frequently had his
+breakfast in bed when he was too lazy to get up, and Miss Matilda
+considered the delicate state of his health required the daily stimulus
+of a pint of champagne. He also had the exclusive use of her victoria in
+the afternoon, and even if this did necessitate an occasional attendance
+at missionary meetings and penny readings, it was after all but a fair
+return for value received. On this occasion he had begged off going to
+the picnic, and was spending a luxurious day at the palace, waited on by
+the Bishop's sister.
+
+The party, having arrived at the abbey, promptly separated to explore
+the ruins, his Lordship gallantly offering to play the part of cicerone
+to the ladies. Miss Violet, however, for reasons of her own, preferred
+seclusion and a quiet chat with Spotts to any amount of architectural
+antiquities, so her host was enabled to devote his entire time to Mrs.
+Mackintosh.
+
+"Does it strike you," remarked the Bishop, a few moments later, pausing
+in his wanderings to inspect critically a fragment of Roman brick--"does
+it strike you how absolutely peaceful this spot is?"
+
+"Well," returned Mrs. Mackintosh, "I don't know as it does. I should
+have said your palace was about as good a sample of all-round
+peacefulness as there is going."
+
+"Ha," said his Lordship, "it hadn't occurred to me."
+
+"That's just like you men. You never know when you're well off. Now with
+your palace and Jonah you ought to be content."
+
+The Bishop sighed.
+
+"Dear lady," he said, "I admit my faults. The palace I indeed possess
+temporarily, but Jonah--ah, what would Jonah be without you! If I have
+left my work once in the past month to ask your advice, I have left it a
+hundred times."
+
+"You have," admitted Mrs. Mackintosh with decision.
+
+"Then it is to you that Jonah owes his debt of gratitude, not to me. You
+have lightened my labour in more senses of the word than one."
+
+"Well, I've had a very pleasant visit. Blanford's a little paradise."
+
+The Bishop sighed again, and remarked:
+
+"Paradise I have always regarded as being peaceful."
+
+"Yes," acquiesced his companion reflectively, "with all that Jonah went
+through, I don't remember as he had an unmarried sister."
+
+There was silence for a moment, and then his Lordship abruptly changed
+the subject.
+
+"What a charming, bright, fresh young life is Miss Arminster's! She
+dances through the world like--like--er--" And he paused for a simile.
+
+"Like a grasshopper," suggested Mrs. Mackintosh, with marked disapproval
+in her tones. The Bishop had a trivial, not to say frivolous, strain in
+his nature which seemed to her hardly in accord with his exalted
+position.
+
+"No, dear lady," objected his Lordship, "not a grasshopper. Decidedly
+not a grasshopper; say--like a ray of sunshine."
+
+"Violet's a good girl," remarked his companion, "a very good girl, but
+in most things she is still a child, and the serious side of life
+doesn't appeal to her. I dare say she'd go to sleep if you read to her
+about Jonah."
+
+"She did," admitted the Bishop; "but then of course," he added, wishing
+to palliate the offence, "it was a very hot day. I suppose, however, you
+are right. Serious things do not interest her--and that is--I should
+say--we are serious."
+
+"I am," said Mrs. Mackintosh, "and at your time of life you ought to be;
+and if we stand here any longer looking at that chunk of brick in the
+broiling sun, we'll both be as red as a couple of beets."
+
+No amount of sentiment could be proof against a statement of this sort,
+and they moved on.
+
+Violet and Spotts had meantime sat themselves down on a convenient
+tombstone to while away the interval till luncheon was served.
+
+"There are lots of things I want to talk to you about, Alvy," began the
+little actress, "and I never get the chance."
+
+"Well, fire away," he replied. "You've got it now."
+
+"In the first place," she said, "I don't like the way things are going
+here."
+
+"At the palace, you mean?"
+
+"Yes. We're not aboveboard. We're shamming all the while. Besides, we're
+doing nothing in our profession."
+
+"It's better than doing time in prison."
+
+"It isn't straightforward, and I don't like it," she went on.
+
+"Neither do I," he returned; "but there are other things I like less."
+
+"Such as?"
+
+"Well, people falling in love with you, for instance."
+
+"Oh, Cecil. He received his _congé_ before we left America."
+
+"I said _people_."
+
+"You don't mean the Bishop?"
+
+Spotts nodded.
+
+"But he's such a dear funny old thing!" she cried.
+
+"What's that got to do with it?"
+
+"Why, he might be my grandfather."
+
+"He's as frisky as a two-year-old," remarked the actor.
+
+"And finally," continued Violet, not noticing the interruption, "his old
+cat of a sister wouldn't let him."
+
+"Worms have turned, and straws have broken camels' backs before now,"
+persisted Spotts.
+
+"Don't you call me names, sir! Worms and straws, indeed! What next, I
+should like to know!"
+
+"If you don't take care, you'll be called his _Lordship's_ 'leopard.'"
+
+She burst out laughing.
+
+"Nonsense!" she cried. "Why, I actually believe you're becoming
+jealous."
+
+"Not a bit of it," he said. "I'd trust you, little girl, through thick
+and thin."
+
+"I know you would, Alvy, and I'd rather marry you--well, ten times,
+before I'd marry a lord or a bishop once."
+
+"I know it, old girl, I know it!" cried Spotts ecstatically, and
+slipped his arm round her waist.
+
+"Oh, do be careful," she protested. "Just think, if any one should see
+us! I'm sure I heard a footstep behind us."
+
+They looked up, and saw Cecil above them, standing on the sill of an old
+ruined window.
+
+He had not heard their words, but he had seen Spotts's embrace, and
+realised bitterly how little chance he stood against such a combination
+of Apollo and Roscius.
+
+The month which had intervened since his return to Blanford had not been
+an altogether happy time for the Bishop's son. The pain of Miss
+Arminster's refusal still rankled within him, and that young lady's
+actions had not done much to soothe it. Had she comported herself with a
+resigned melancholy, he could have borne his own sufferings with
+fortitude. But, on the contrary, she had, he considered, flirted most
+outrageously with Mr. Spotts. Indeed Cecil was already strongly of the
+opinion that the actor was trying to succeed where he had failed--a
+course of action which he thought quite justifiable on his,
+Banborough's, part, but highly reprehensible on the part of any one
+else. Matters had now culminated. Fate had brought the three together at
+this inopportune moment, and as it was manifestly impossible not to say
+something, Cecil laid himself out to be agreeable, and Miss Arminster,
+who was naturally aware of the awkwardness of his position, did her best
+to promote conversation, while Spotts almost immediately cut the Gordian
+knot by excusing himself on the plea of looking after the lunch.
+
+"Well," she said, "what's the latest news from Spain?"
+
+"It seems to me that the war must be almost over," he replied. "Now that
+Santiago's fallen, and Cervera's fleet's destroyed, Spain has no
+alternative but to yield."
+
+"Ah," she murmured, "then we'll be free once more."
+
+"Has your exile been so irksome to you?" he asked.
+
+"Oh," she returned, "I didn't mean it that way, really. Believe me, I'm
+not ungrateful. Blanford's just sweet, and your father's an old dear."
+
+"Yes," he retorted, laughing. "I notice you're doing your best to usurp
+Mrs. Mackintosh's place in his affections."
+
+"That's not from pique, it's from charity," she replied. "I've been
+trying to rescue her from Jonah."
+
+"I'm afraid my governor must be an awful bore," he said.
+
+"Oh, but he's so sweet and simple with it all," she objected. "I'm
+really growing to be awfully fond of him."
+
+"I think he's growing to be awfully fond of _you_," said his son.
+
+Miss Arminster laughed merrily.
+
+"Don't you fancy me as a step-mamma?" she queried. "But, joking apart,
+I'm afraid even Blanford would pall on me after a while. It isn't my
+first visit here, you see. I was on a tour through these counties three
+years ago."
+
+"That's how you came to know about my father, I suppose."
+
+"Yes," she said. "I had him pointed out to me, and you look a good deal
+alike. Besides, the name's not common."
+
+"I'm glad you liked Blanford well enough to come back to it."
+
+"Oh," she returned, looking up at him with a roguish smile, "this
+section of the country has other associations for me."
+
+"I was waiting for that," he retorted. "In which of the neighbouring
+towns were you married?"
+
+"The one nearest here," she replied. "I think we can just see the spire
+of the church over the trees. But how did you know?"
+
+"I inferred it as a matter of course," he said banteringly, "but I'm
+only joking."
+
+"But I'm not," she returned.
+
+"Do you really mean that you were married over there?" he asked,
+pointing to the distant church.
+
+"Yes," she replied. "The third of June, 1895."
+
+"I say, you know," he said, "I think you might have married me once in a
+way, as I had asked you."
+
+"Mr. Banborough," she replied stiffly, drawing herself up, "you forget
+yourself."
+
+"I beg your pardon," he returned humbly. "Only as American divorce laws
+are so lax, I thought--"
+
+"The divorce laws of my country are a disgrace, and nothing would ever
+induce me to avail myself of them. Besides, marriage, to me, is a very
+serious and solemn matter, and I can't permit you to speak about it
+flippantly, even by way of a joke."
+
+Cecil picked up a handful of pebbles and began throwing them
+meditatively at the fragment of an adjacent arch. The more he saw of
+Miss Arminster, the greater mystery she became. By her own admission,
+she had been married at least half a dozen times, which, were he to
+accept as real the high moral standard which she always assumed, must
+imply a frightful mortality among her husbands. But then she neither
+seemed flippant nor shallow, and her serious attitude towards the
+sacrament of marriage appeared wholly incompatible with a matrimonial
+experience which might have caused a Mormon to shudder. Anyway, she
+wasn't going to marry him, and he turned to the discussion of more
+fruitful subjects.
+
+"How's Spotts getting on with his studies in architecture?" he asked.
+
+"I should think he'd learned a good deal," she replied. "Your father
+hasn't left a stone of his own cathedral unexplained, and I imagine
+he'll put him through his paces over this abbey."
+
+"Poor Spotts! I'm afraid he's had a hard row to hoe," said Cecil; "but,
+anyway, it'll keep him out of mischief."
+
+"You must be very careful what you say about him to me," she replied. "I
+won't hear one word against him, for we're very old friends."
+
+"So I should infer," he retorted, "from what I've just seen. _I_ never
+was allowed to put _my_ arm--"
+
+"How dare you!" she cried, rising, really angry this time. "I--" Then
+turning to the Bishop, who arrived very opportunely, she exclaimed:
+
+"Won't you rescue me, please? Your son's becoming awfully impertinent!"
+
+"Then," said his Lordship gallantly, "my son must be taught better
+manners. If he cannot show himself worthy of such a charming companion,
+we'll punish him by leaving him entirely alone."
+
+Certainly his father was coming on, thought Cecil. But if Miss Arminster
+tried to take advantage of his dotage to forge another link in her
+matrimonial chain, he, Banborough, would have a word to say on the
+subject.
+
+"I wish to tell you, my dear," began his Lordship as they walked away,
+leaving Cecil disconsolate, "of a very nice invitation I've received for
+the rest of the week. Lord Downton is to call for me in his yacht at
+Dullhampton to-morrow, and has asked me to join his party and to bring
+some lady with me to make the number even."
+
+"Oh, how jolly that'll be--for Miss Matilda!" said the artful Violet.
+
+"Humph!--ye-es," replied the Bishop. "I hardly think my sister could
+leave the palace just at this time."
+
+"Perhaps," suggested his guest, "yachting doesn't agree with her. Has
+she ever tried it before?"
+
+"She has," replied the Bishop, with a certain asperity.
+
+"Ah, poor thing!" said Miss Arminster. "It must have taken away from
+your pleasure to feel that she was suffering such great discomfort on
+your account."
+
+"Lord Downton didn't specify my sister. He only said 'some lady'; and so
+I thought if you--"
+
+"Oh, that's just sweet of you!" exclaimed his companion. "I'm sure I
+should adore yachting. It's something I've always wanted to do."
+
+"Then we'll consider it settled," said the Bishop.
+
+"But Miss Matilda?"
+
+"Ah, yes," admitted his Lordship. "That's just the trouble. You see my
+dilemma."
+
+"Of course!" Violet responded promptly, understanding that he wished to
+be helped out. "If your sister knew you were going, she'd feel it her
+duty to accompany you, and the trip would be spoilt for you by her
+sufferings. So, out of your affection for her, you think it would be
+better if we were just quietly to slip off to-morrow and send her a wire
+from Dullhampton."
+
+The Bishop was delighted. Miss Matilda never accepted him at his own
+valuation.
+
+"So, just on your account," continued his companion demurely, "I won't
+say a word, though I hate any form of concealment."
+
+"H'm--naturally," said the Bishop.
+
+"But since it's for your dear sister's sake--"
+
+"We'll take the eleven-fifty train to-morrow," replied his Lordship.
+
+And here his remarks were cut short from the fact that in suddenly
+rounding a corner he had planted his foot on the recumbent form of
+Marchmont.
+
+"Hullo!" said that gentleman, sitting up, and adding, as he rubbed his
+eyes to get them wider open, "permit me to inform you that this part of
+the ground is strictly preserved."
+
+"Who are you, sir?" demanded the Bishop.
+
+"Come," said the stranger cheerfully, "we'll make a bargain. I'll tell
+you who you are, if you'll tell me who I am."
+
+"I do not see how that is possible--" began his Lordship.
+
+"Well, I'll begin," said Marchmont. "You're the Bishop of Blanford and
+I'm your son's greatest benefactor."
+
+"Really, you surprise me. May I enquire how you've benefited him?"
+
+"I made the fame of his book, 'The Purple Kangaroo.' I've been sending
+you my editorials on the subject for some weeks past."
+
+"Are you the person who wrote those scandalous leaders which have been
+forwarded to me from America?" demanded the Bishop.
+
+"I thought you'd remember them," said the journalist. "They're
+eye-openers, aren't they?"
+
+His Lordship drew himself up and put on his most repressive manner, but
+Marchmont babbled on serenely.
+
+"The last time I saw Cecil he said to me: 'Whenever you come to England,
+Marchmont, you just drop round to the palace, and we'll make things
+hum.' So, having a chance for a little vacation, I jumped on board a
+steamer, crossed to Southampton, and biked up-country, doing these ruins
+on the way. I meant to have presented myself at the palace this
+afternoon in due form and a swallow-tailed coat, but I'm just as much
+pleased to see you as if I'd been regularly introduced."
+
+"You're one of the most consummate liars I ever knew," remarked Cecil,
+who, hearing voices, had strolled over to see what it was all about.
+
+"Put it more mildly, my dear fellow," replied the American. "Call me a
+journalist, and spare your father's feelings."
+
+"Well, now you're here, what do you intend to do?" demanded Banborough.
+
+"Do?" said Marchmont. "Why, I'm going to put up for a week at your 'Pink
+Pig,' or your 'Azure Griffin,' or whatever kind of nondescript-coloured
+animal your local hostelry boasts, and study your charming cathedral.
+But, in the first place, I think we'd better have some lunch. I'm as
+hungry as a bear."
+
+"I fear we've scarcely provided for an extra guest," returned Cecil
+frigidly. The journalist was the very last person he wanted to see at
+Blanford, and he did not take any pains to disguise the fact.
+
+Marchmont, however, was not to be snubbed, and remarking cheerfully that
+there was always enough for one more, calmly proceeded in the direction
+of the hampers. Once there, he constituted himself chef and butler
+forthwith, and moreover proved so efficient in both capacities that,
+irritated as his friend was at his self-assurance, he could not but
+express his appreciation.
+
+Marchmont, having started the rest of the people on their lunch and made
+all feel at their ease, turned on his journalistic tap for the benefit
+of the Bishop, and plied the old gentleman with such a judicious mixture
+of flattery and amusing anecdote that, by the time the repast was over,
+his Lordship was solemnly assuring his son, much to that young
+gentleman's disgust, that he was indeed fortunate in possessing such a
+delightful friend, and that he might invite Mr. Marchmont to the palace
+if he liked.
+
+"Quite so," said Cecil. "I suppose you remember his article in the
+_Daily Leader_, in which he alluded to you as a 'consecrated fossil'?"
+
+"H'm!" said the Bishop. "Really, the accommodation at the inn is very
+good, and perhaps, with so many guests, it would be asking too much of
+your aunt."
+
+"What does all this mean?" asked Spotts of Banborough when a convenient
+opportunity offered.
+
+The Bishop's son shrugged his shoulders, replying:
+
+"It means mischief."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+IN WHICH PEACE IS PROPOSED AND WAR DECLARED.
+
+
+Marchmont stood on the lawn before the palace, on the morning after his
+arrival, critically inspecting that structure; his feet stretched wide
+apart, his hands in his pockets, and his hat on the back of his head.
+
+Cecil, emerging from breakfast, sighted his enemy and made haste to join
+him.
+
+"Jolly old rookery you've got," remarked the reporter.
+
+"Yes," said Banborough. "It was a monastery originally. They turned it
+into a bishop's palace about the reign of Henry VIII."
+
+"I know that style," said the American. "Nice rambling ark, two stories
+high, and no two rooms on the same level. Architect built right out into
+the country till he got tired, and then turned round and came back.
+Obliged to have a valet to show you to your room whether you're sober or
+not."
+
+"I didn't know," said Cecil drily, "that you possessed an extensive
+acquaintance in ecclesiastical circles in this country."
+
+"Oh, yes," said Marchmont, "I served as valet for six months to a bishop
+while I was gathering materials for my articles on 'English Sees Seen
+from the Inside.'"
+
+"Was it a financial success?" queried Banborough.
+
+"No," admitted the reporter regretfully, "it sold the paper splendidly,
+but was stopped at the second article at the request of the American
+ambassador."
+
+"Did you favour us with a visit?"
+
+"I hadn't that honour."
+
+"If you had done so you would probably have slept in the rooms we give
+to our American guests in the new part of the house."
+
+"How old is that?" queried the journalist.
+
+"About eight hundred years," replied Cecil, "and the walls are four feet
+thick."
+
+"I know," said the reporter, "It's appalling. That sort of thing always
+upsets me. It seems so out of keeping with the _Daily Leader_."
+
+"Look here, Marchmont, why have you come to Blanford?" demanded
+Banborough, abruptly changing the conversation.
+
+"To have the joy of your society," returned the journalist.
+
+"If that were really the case I'd be delighted to see you," said the
+Englishman. "But you're on the track of these unfortunate people who are
+my guests; and if you make things disagreeable for them I shan't have
+the slightest compunction in forbidding you the house."
+
+The American, apparently ignoring the other's frankness, remarked:
+
+"So you admit they're conspirators?"
+
+"I admit nothing of the kind. They're perfectly innocent of the charge
+you bring against them, and you've been making an awful ass of yourself,
+if you only knew it."
+
+"Ah, thank you. But if this is the case why didn't you mention the fact
+to me in Montreal?"
+
+"I had my reasons."
+
+"And why are all these people received as honoured guests in your
+father's palace?"
+
+"That, if you'll permit me to say so, Marchmont, is a matter that
+doesn't concern you."
+
+"Everything concerns me. Not that I expect you to see that point of
+view. But to put it another way. Considering all I've done to increase
+the sale of your book, won't you do me a good turn and tell me what you
+know about this affair?"
+
+"I wish the confounded book had never sold a copy!" burst out
+Banborough. "And I'll not say one word to the detriment of my friends!"
+
+"Then it _is_ to be war?" queried the journalist, rolling a cigarette.
+
+"Not so far as I'm concerned," replied his host. "Why don't you let
+bygones be bygones? A truce between the United States and Spain may be
+declared any day, and then--"
+
+"Then my great scoop will be lost for ever. What would the public care
+about conspirators if there were no war?"
+
+"Exactly what I say," said Cecil. "So let's drop the whole matter."
+
+"Not much!" cried the journalist. "It's my last chance. And if you won't
+help me--why, I must help myself."
+
+"What do you wish me to do?"
+
+"Turn 'em out of Blanford."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"But your father?"
+
+"How dare you mention my father's name in this connection? I won't have
+him dragged into publicity to sell your dirty rag of a newspaper!" Cecil
+exploded, thoroughly beside himself at the thought of such a dreadful
+possibility.
+
+The journalist nodded his head gravely. Banborough's fierce defence of
+the Bishop he attributed to far other grounds than those on which it was
+really based. It justified him to the tramp's suspicions that his
+Lordship was actually connected with the plot.
+
+"Well," he said, with a fair pretence of backing down, "there's no need
+of getting so hot about it. Of course I don't want to make myself
+disagreeable."
+
+"Neither do I," replied his host. "Only we may as well understand each
+other. You're quite welcome to come to the palace as long as you
+remember to be a gentleman before you are a journalist. But if you
+forget it, I'll be forced to treat you as you deserve," and turning on
+his heel, he left Marchmont chewing the ends of his sandy moustache with
+a grim avidity that boded ill for the peace of the Bishop and his
+household.
+
+The American told himself that he must work carefully. Banborough would
+watch him and probably put the others on their guard. And moreover, he
+would not hesitate to dismiss him from the palace, which, apart from the
+unpleasantness of the operation, would be well-nigh fatal to the success
+of the scheme the journalist was maturing. Decidedly the highest caution
+was essential, but he must work quickly, for there was no time to be
+lost. Marchmont therefore proceeded to pump the first member of the
+company he came across. This happened to be Spotts, who was in rather a
+bad humour, the result of a morning spent with the Bishop in the
+cobwebby heights of a neighbouring church-tower.
+
+"You're the very person I wanted to see," cried the reporter.
+
+"I'm afraid I've hardly time to be interviewed just now," replied the
+actor shortly.
+
+"Oh, this isn't professional. I'm off duty sometimes. I'm only human."
+
+"Oh, are you? I supposed newspaper men were neither the one nor the
+other."
+
+"Well, I wanted to talk to you for your own good."
+
+"Is it as bad as all that?"
+
+"Of course I know who you really are," pursued the journalist, ignoring
+the interruption. "And I may say confidentially that you and Miss
+Arminster are not the people of this party I'm after."
+
+"Ah, that's very thoughtful of you."
+
+"So, if I could help you two to slip off quietly--"
+
+"Why include Miss Arminster?" queried Spotts with well-affected
+surprise.
+
+"Why? My dear fellow, you don't suppose I'm quite blind. Any one who
+follows that lady about with his eyes as you do is naturally-- Well--you
+understand--"
+
+"I'm afraid your professional acumen is at fault this time," said the
+actor, and added: "I hope I may never come any nearer being married than
+I am now."
+
+"Oh, I say," returned Marchmont; "don't you aspire to be her--sixteenth,
+is it?"
+
+"You're alluding to Miss Arminster's husbands?" asked Spotts drily.
+
+"Oh, I'd a little bet up with a friend," said Marchmont, "that she'd
+been married at least a baker's dozen times. Ought I to hedge?"
+
+"I think you're well inside the number," replied the actor.
+
+"Gad! she must be pretty well acquainted with the divorce courts!"
+exclaimed the reporter.
+
+"I'm quite sure she's never been divorced in her life," returned Spotts.
+"So long. I'm after a drink." And he left him, thus terminating the
+conversation.
+
+"Ah," said the journalist to himself, "I bet you're the next in line,
+just the same."
+
+Baffled in his first attempt, Marchmont sought other means of
+information, for there is always a weak spot in every defence, and a man
+of far less keen perception than the reporter would have had little
+difficulty in finding the most favourable point of attack. So it is not
+surprising that after a little cogitation he went in search of Miss
+Matilda, whom he had met the day before when he had returned with the
+party from the abbey. He found that lady on the lawn knitting socks for
+the heathen, and deserted for the nonce by the faithful Smith.
+
+"Dear Miss Banborough," began the journalist, sitting down beside her,
+"what a reproach it is to idle men like myself to see such industry!"
+
+"It's very kind of you, I'm sure, to notice my humble labours," replied
+the old lady, expanding at once under the first word of flattery. "My
+brother tells me you're connected with a great newspaper. How ennobling
+that must be! It gives you such a wide scope for doing good."
+
+Marchmont, who had hardly adopted journalism for this purpose, and was
+conscious of having done his fair share of mischief in the world, made a
+desperate effort to look the part assigned to him, and murmuring
+something about the inspiration, to toilers like himself, of such
+self-sacrificing lives as hers, abruptly turned the conversation by
+alluding to the pleasure which she must have felt at her nephew's
+return.
+
+"Of course we're very glad to have him back," acceded Miss Matilda. "But
+then we see little or nothing of him."
+
+"Naturally," said the journalist, "his days must be given up to his
+friends. How you must be looking forward to the time when you can have
+him quite to yourself!"
+
+The gleam that came into the old lady's eye at this remark told him
+that he had not been mistaken in fancying her hostile to the strangers,
+and he hastened to continue such a fruitful theme, saying:
+
+"I suppose that, as they've been here a month now, you'll be losing them
+soon."
+
+"I can't say," she snapped. "They seem to be staying for an indefinite
+period."
+
+"Really?" he replied. "I shouldn't have fancied that your nephew would
+have found them very congenial. Indeed, if you'll pardon my frankness, I
+was rather surprised to meet them here."
+
+Miss Matilda at once gave him her undivided attention.
+
+"You knew them in America?" she asked.
+
+"Of course I knew about them. I was hardly acquainted personally."
+
+It was his tone rather than his words that lent an unfavourable colour
+to the remark, but the implication was not lost on the Bishop's sister.
+Here at last was a man who could give her the information she was most
+anxious to obtain.
+
+"I should have supposed," she ventured, "that you'd have known such very
+intimate friends of Cecil's as these appear to be."
+
+"Oh, no," he returned. "New York's a big place. I dare say you know much
+more about them than I do."
+
+"I know nothing!" she burst out. "Strange as it may appear to you, my
+nephew has never told me one word concerning his guests, though I'm
+expected to receive them under my--his father's roof and introduce them
+to my friends."
+
+"I see," replied Marchmont cautiously. "Cecil should have trusted to
+your excellent discrimination and judgment, unless--" and here he
+paused.
+
+The position required consideration. It was easy enough to tell her
+about these people. Merely to say that they were an itinerant company of
+actors and actresses would be sufficient to ensure them a speedy _congé_
+from Blanford. But was it wise to do this? Did he want them to go? A
+hasty action is often like a boomerang. It returns on the toes of the
+person who thoughtlessly launches it in flight. No, on the whole they
+had better remain, he told himself. The palace would form an excellent
+background for the sensational exposure he hoped to make. If he could
+only get the Bishop into a corner, he would be quite satisfied.
+
+"Well, what?" she demanded sharply, impatient at his unfinished
+sentence.
+
+"Unless," he continued, hedging carefully--"unless your nephew felt that
+it was quite sufficient to have explained things to his father.
+Doubtless the Bishop knows all about his son's friends."
+
+"The Bishop knows a great deal too much for a man in his position,"
+snapped his sister.
+
+"Quite so," thought the journalist, "and doesn't confide it to you."
+Aloud he remarked:
+
+"Of course there's nothing particular to be said against them, except
+that they're hardly in Cecil's set."
+
+"I didn't need you to tell me that. But what about the ladies?"
+
+"Ah, yes, the ladies. Well, really, you've put me in an awkward
+position, Miss Banborough. One can't be uncomplimentary to the fair sex,
+you know."
+
+"Humph! Well, Josephus sees more of both of them than is good for him.
+But of course Mrs. Mackintosh has neither the youth nor the good looks
+to cause me any anxiety."
+
+"Mrs. Mackintosh is eminently respectable," said Marchmont, who always
+spoke the truth when it did not conflict with business.
+
+"But Miss Arminster?"
+
+The journalist did not answer.
+
+"Well," she cried, "why don't you speak?"
+
+"Madam," he replied, "you place me in a most embarrassing situation. My
+duty to you and the natural gallantry of my nature draw me in different
+directions."
+
+"I insist."
+
+"I put myself in your hands. In saying what I do I'm laying myself open
+to serious misconstruction."
+
+"You may rely upon my silence."
+
+"Any indiscretion on your part would be most unfortunate."
+
+"I shall not forget the confidence you've reposed in me."
+
+"I shall hold you to that," he said. "If I tell you what I have in mind,
+will you promise not to use the information without my permission?"
+
+"That I cannot say."
+
+"Then I say nothing."
+
+"But you've already implied--"
+
+"But implications, my dear Miss Banborough, are not evidence."
+
+"You leave me no other course but to accede to your request," she said.
+
+"Ah, then you promise?"
+
+"I promise."
+
+"The word of a woman in your position and of your high moral standard I
+know is sacred."
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Well, then," he continued, "please answer me this question. Where was
+your brother the first week in May?"
+
+"In Scotland."
+
+"Why did he go?"
+
+"For absolute rest. He was worried and run down."
+
+"You heard from him frequently?"
+
+"No, not once during the whole time. Sir Joseph Westmoreland, the great
+London nerve specialist, who advised the change, even prohibited
+correspondence."
+
+"You're sure he was in Scotland?"
+
+"Really, Mr. Marchmont, why do you ask?"
+
+"Because I saw the Bishop of Blanford in the United States in the first
+week of May on his way to Montreal, Canada."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"I'm certain of it."
+
+"I cannot credit what you tell me!"
+
+"What I tell you is quite true. You say he was absent for a month. Might
+he not have gone to the States and returned in that time?"
+
+His sister nodded. Then, as a sudden thought occurred to her, she
+flushed red with anger, exclaiming:
+
+"And this girl, this Miss Arminster! Was she in Montreal also?"
+
+"She was," replied Marchmont. "I saw her."
+
+"The hussy!" cried Miss Matilda, rising. "She shan't remain in my house
+another hour!"
+
+"Hold on!" he exclaimed. "You forget your promise!"
+
+"But after what you've said!"
+
+"I haven't said anything. Miss Arminster's being in Montreal might have
+been merely a coincidence."
+
+"But do you know something about her?"
+
+"I've investigated her career," he replied, "and have found nothing
+objectionable in it, beyond the fact that she's rather fond of getting
+married."
+
+"Getting married! But surely she calls herself _Miss_ Arminster?"
+
+"Ah, yes; but that's very common on the--I mean, not unusual in such
+cases."
+
+"She has been married, then, more than once?"
+
+"I know of a dozen different occasions on which she has had the service
+performed."
+
+"Infamous!"
+
+"Oh, no. There's no evidence of her ever having been through the divorce
+court. Indeed, she may never have been married to more than one man at
+the same time."
+
+"But how to account--"
+
+"For the mortality in husbands? Well, fortunately, we're not required to
+do that."
+
+"I will not have my dear brother stricken down in his prime!" gasped
+Miss Matilda.
+
+"Oh, I don't suppose she's necessarily fatal. Still, as mistress of
+Blanford--"
+
+The Bishop's sister arose in her wrath. For the first time in her
+existence she wanted to swear, but contented herself by remarking:
+
+"That young woman leaves the palace to-day!"
+
+"You forget your promise to me," he said.
+
+"But is it possible, in the face of what you've told me, that you can
+hold me to it?"
+
+"Quite possible. In fact I mean to do so, and as soon as your righteous
+indignation cools down a bit you'll realise that we've nothing
+whatsoever to go on. What I've said could only be substantiated by
+evidence requiring some time to obtain. If you accused her now, she'd
+merely deny my statement, and her word's as good as mine, and probably
+better, in his Lordship's estimation."
+
+"But is there no proof near at hand?"
+
+"Yes. She was married several years ago at a little church close by the
+ruined abbey where I first met your party, and the fact is recorded in
+the register."
+
+"Then surely--"
+
+"There's no crime in being married once," he objected.
+
+"But what _can_ we do?" she asked.
+
+"Keep quiet for a little while longer. Miss Arminster's certain to make
+some slip, and then--"
+
+"It seems very difficult to wait."
+
+"Believe me," he replied, "it's the only way, and I shall rely on your
+promise."
+
+Saying which, he left her, partly because he had obtained all the
+information he wished, and partly because he was certain that he espied
+the well-known figure of the tramp hovering behind the bushes on the
+opposite side of the lawn.
+
+A few moments later he had his hand on that individual's collar, and was
+demanding sternly what he meant by coming to Blanford against his
+orders.
+
+"'Cause I've somethin' of importance to tell yer," retorted that worthy.
+
+"Well, out with it, quick!" said the journalist. "It's got to be pretty
+important to excuse your disobedience."
+
+"It is. The boss is going to bolt."
+
+"Who? The Bishop?"
+
+"That's it! Him and the lady."
+
+"What lady?"
+
+"The young 'un, I guess."
+
+"What's all this stuff about?" demanded Marchmont.
+
+"It ain't stuff, as you'll soon see," replied the tramp in an aggrieved
+tone. "There was a yacht come into Dullhampton last night, a
+nasty-lookin' boat and a quick steamer. The second mate and me, we got
+to know each other up to the inn--he's a furriner, he is--a Don, more'n
+likely. But he let on, havin' had some drink, as how he'd been sent
+there with the yacht to wait for the Bishop o' Blanford and a lady as
+was comin' down next day, and the Bishop was to give the sailin'
+orders."
+
+"Humph! What more?"
+
+"This mornin' I seed 'em lookin' over a lot of flags on the deck of the
+yacht, and one of 'em was Spanish."
+
+"So you came all the way up here to tell me this cock-and-bull story!"
+
+"Not till I'd squared the crew."
+
+"Squared the crew?"
+
+"I let on to 'em as how they'd been shipped under false orders to carry
+two Spanish spies out of the country, an' how we was on to the fact, and
+if they'd stay by us they'd not be held responsible; and I promised 'em
+ten shillin's apiece and give 'em all the drink they wanted, and they're
+ours to a man."
+
+"And that's where you've wasted good money and good liquor. I tell you
+what you say is impossible. If the Bishop had had any idea of a move
+like that, I'd have got wind of it. Besides, his old cat of a sister
+would never let him leave Blanford again without her."
+
+"Hist!" said the tramp, pointing across the lawn. "Look there, what did
+I say? My eyesight ain't what it was, from breakin' stones up to Sing
+Sing, and I can't see no faces at this distance, but there's somethin'
+sneakin' along there, in bishop's togs."
+
+Marchmont followed the direction he indicated, and saw two figures
+stealing round the corner of the palace, carrying hand-bags and showing
+every sign of watchfulness and suspicion. Having ascertained that the
+lawn was clear, they slipped rapidly across it, and, putting themselves
+in the protecting shade of a clump of bushes, turned into the high-road
+and disappeared. It had needed no second glance to identify them as his
+Lordship and Miss Arminster.
+
+"By Jove!" gasped the journalist. "It is true, then! This will be a
+scoop of scoops! Come, we've got to run for it. We must take the same
+train, and they mustn't see us."
+
+Some one else had witnessed the departure, in spite of all the
+precautions of the fugitives, and that person was Miss Matilda, who,
+from the vantage of an upper window, caught a glimpse of them just as
+they disappeared through the gate. Unwilling at first to believe her
+senses, she rushed to her brother's room and then to Miss Arminster's.
+Alas! in each apartment the traces of hasty packing and missing
+hand-luggage gave damning evidence of the fact. She rushed downstairs,
+bursting with her dreadful intelligence. In the hall she met Cecil,
+delightedly waving a telegram in his hand.
+
+"Hurrah! Aunt Matilda!" he shouted. "Such news! 'The Purple Kangaroo'
+has reached its twentieth edition, and a truce is declared between the
+United States and Spain! Where are the others? I must tell them that the
+war is over."
+
+"Bother your war!" exclaimed his aunt. "Do you know that your father and
+that shameless minx, Miss Arminster, have just eloped?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+IN WHICH THE BISHOP IS ABDUCTED.
+
+
+All the way from Blanford to Dullhampton the Bishop was in the best of
+spirits, much on the principle of a naughty boy who, having played
+truant, means to enjoy his holiday to the full, well knowing that he
+will be caned when it is over. Indeed his Lordship became positively
+skittish, and Miss Arminster was obliged to squelch him a little, as
+that young lady, for excellent reasons of her own, had no more intention
+of becoming the mistress of Blanford than she had of wedding the author
+of "The Purple Kangaroo." On the other hand, she realised that it was
+one of the old gentleman's very rare treats, and she wanted him to have
+as good a time as possible; besides which, she had always longed to take
+a cruise on a steam-yacht, and now her ambition was about to be
+gratified.
+
+The shock of disappointment was therefore all the greater when, on their
+arrival at Dullhampton, they were met by the captain, who informed them
+that Lord Downton had had a bad fall the day before and seriously
+sprained his ankle, so that the party had been given up. He had sent the
+yacht on, however, with the request that the Bishop would consider it at
+his disposal for the remainder of the week.
+
+"Now that's exceedingly awkward," said his Lordship. "I fear we can
+hardly go yachting without a chaperon."
+
+"Most certainly not," agreed Miss Arminster. "But let's take a little
+sail this afternoon, and return to Blanford in time for dinner."
+
+"That's very well thought of," said the Bishop, "and to-morrow we can
+bring down some more of our party. It seems a pity we shouldn't use the
+yacht, now we're here. Does that arrangement meet with your approval,
+captain?"
+
+"Well, your Lordship," replied the captain, "to be honest with you, I
+hadn't expected as how you'd be able to get away to-day, so I'd
+arranged to see my sister, who lives here, this afternoon, and the first
+mate's gone up to town to order some stores. But if you are only to be
+out for a few hours, as you say, my second mate's quite capable of
+taking the boat for you. I wouldn't like to trust him on a long cruise,
+for he's only joined a few weeks, and I know nothing about his
+character. He is a first-class navigator, however, and for an afternoon
+in the Solent he'll do you very well."
+
+"I'm sure we would not want to interfere with your plans, captain," said
+his Lordship, "so if Miss Arminster agrees--"
+
+"Oh my, yes," acquiesced Violet. "I don't care who takes the yacht out,
+so long as we go."
+
+"Right you are," said the captain. "Steam's up, and I've ordered lunch
+on board, as I thought you'd want that anyway. I'll tell Funk, the
+second mate, to run out into the Solent, and then you can give your own
+orders. What time will you be back?"
+
+"Oh, not later than six," replied the Bishop, as they stepped on board
+Lord Downton's beautiful craft, the "Homing Pigeon."
+
+She was a large boat and thoroughly seaworthy. Indeed her owner had made
+a voyage in her to the Mediterranean, but she was built for speed also,
+and decidedly rakish in cut.
+
+They were at once introduced to the second mate, and Miss Arminster
+thought she had seldom seen a more unprepossessing individual. He was
+surly and shifty-eyed, and she confided to the Bishop, when they were
+alone, that she was glad they were not going far from land under that
+man's charge, for he looked like a pirate.
+
+After glancing round the deck, which seemed charmingly arranged, they at
+once descended to the cabin for lunch, for their little journey had made
+them hungry. Here the captain left them with a few courteous words of
+excuse. A moment later, as he was leaving the ship, he met two strangers
+coming on board, laden with hand-baggage. They were, though unknown to
+him, the journalist and the tramp. On asking them sharply what their
+business was, Marchmont replied very glibly that he was his Lordship's
+valet, and that he had hired this man to bring down the luggage from the
+station.
+
+"I don't think your master'll need his traps, as he's only going out for
+the afternoon," said the captain. "But you'd better take them down to
+the cabin, and see the porter gets off before they start. I don't allow
+strangers aboard."
+
+The valet touched his hat respectfully, and went up the gangway,
+followed by the obsequious porter. A moment later they reached the deck,
+and no sooner had the captain disappeared round a corner than both men
+approached the second mate, with whom they had a hurried and earnest
+conversation, followed by an interchange of something which that officer
+transferred to his trousers-pocket and jingled appreciatively.
+
+The ropes were now cast off, and they got under way, while Marchmont
+stole very quietly to the door of the hatchway which led down to the
+saloon where the Bishop and the actress were unsuspectingly lunching,
+and softly turned the key.
+
+"Mayn't I cut you a slice of this cold ham, my dear?" asked the Bishop
+in his most fatherly tones.
+
+"Not while the pigeon-pie lasts," said his fair companion. "But you may
+give me a glass of champagne, if you will. I see some going to waste in
+an ice-cooler over there in the corner."
+
+"I was hoping the steward would come," ventured his Lordship.
+
+"Well, I hope he won't. Being tête-à-tête is much more fun, don't you
+think? Give the bottle to me, and I'll show you how to open it and not
+spill a drop. In some respects your education's been neglected."
+
+"I'm afraid it has," admitted the Bishop, assisting her with his
+pen-knife.
+
+His Lordship felt recklessly jovial. To lunch alone with a young lady
+who opened champagne with a dexterity that bespoke considerable
+practice must be very wicked, he felt certain, and he was shocked to
+realise that he didn't care if it was. His years of repression were
+beginning to find their outlet in a natural reaction.
+
+"Here, have a glass of champagne, and don't think about your
+shortcomings," she said.
+
+"That's very nice," he replied, just tasting it.
+
+"Nonsense!" she cried. "No heel-taps. I'm no end thirsty."
+
+"So am I," replied his Lordship, draining his glass contentedly, and
+watching her fill it up again.
+
+"What are you so pensive about?" she demanded. "There's another bottle."
+
+He had been thinking that his sister always confined him to two glasses,
+but he didn't say so, and under her skilful lead he was soon describing
+to her a Cowes regatta he had once seen, in which she professed to be
+amazingly interested.
+
+"I tell you what it is," she remarked a little later on. "If I had a
+gorgeous palace like yours I'd have no end of a good time."
+
+"Ah," said the Bishop, who was helping her to unfasten the second bottle
+of champagne, "I never thought of it in that light."
+
+"No," returned his fair companion, "I suppose not. But you're losing
+lots of fun in life, and it does seem a shame, when you would so enjoy
+it."
+
+"It does," said the Bishop, sampling the fresh bottle. "But then, you
+see, there's my sister, Miss Matilda--"
+
+"Rats!"
+
+"Excuse me, I didn't catch your meaning."
+
+"Never mind my meaning. We're talking about your sister. She's a most
+estimable woman, my dear Bish-- Oh, pshaw! I can't always call you by
+your title."
+
+"Call me Josephus," he said.
+
+"No, I couldn't call you that, either. It's too dreadful. I'll call you
+Joe."
+
+The Bishop beamed with joy.
+
+"And I," he faltered, "may I call you Violet?"
+
+"No," she said, "I don't think it's proper in a man of your position."
+
+"But if you call me--Joe--"
+
+"Well!" she cried, laughing, "we'll make a compromise. Suppose you call
+me 'the Leopard'?"
+
+"To be sure," he said. "Mrs. Mackintosh spoke of you as
+that--er--quadruped. But what does it mean?"
+
+"You want to know a great deal too much for a man of your age. It's an
+animal that is more than once mentioned in Scripture, and that ought to
+be sufficient for your purposes. So we'll have it understood that his
+Lordship's Leopard is quite at his Lordship's service, if his Lordship
+doesn't mind."
+
+"Mind!" he cried ecstatically, eyeing the other side of the table. But
+Miss Violet intended to have the board between them.
+
+"Take another glass of champagne, and keep quiet," she said sternly.
+"We're talking about your estimable but impossible sister. My dear Joe,
+you'll never have any sport till you've got rid of her."
+
+"But how shall I get rid of her?" he asked despondently. Even champagne
+was not proof against the depression induced by such an appalling
+thought.
+
+"Oh, send her to a course of mud-baths or a water-cure!"
+
+"I might try it--if--if you'd help me--if you'd take her place at the
+palace. I mean--"
+
+"Josephus!" she called, in such an exact imitation of his sister's tone
+that it made him sit right up. "Josephus! don't say another word! I know
+what you mean--and you're an old dear--and I'm not going to let you make
+a fool of yourself. You're aged enough to be my father, and if your son
+had had his way you would have been my father-in-law. I want to have a
+good time, and I want you to have a good time; but that isn't the proper
+manner in which to set about it. No, you send the old lady packing, for
+the good of her health, and Mrs. Mackintosh and I'll help you and Cecil
+entertain, and we'll have a dance, and a marquee, and lots of punch. I
+dare say you've never been to a dance in your life," she rattled on,
+not giving him a chance to blunder out excuses.
+
+"I'm not such an old fogey as you think me," he began. "But I want to
+say--er--Miss--Leopard--"
+
+"Oh, no, you don't," she interrupted. "You want to forget what you've
+said, and so do I. We must talk about something else. What were you
+saying about a dance?"
+
+"No, no, not a dance," he replied, resigning himself to his fate. "But
+once," lowering his voice, "not long ago either, when I was in town,
+I--I'm sure you won't believe it-- I went to a theatre." This last
+triumphantly.
+
+"Oh, you sad dog!" she cried. "You didn't!"
+
+He nodded his head affirmatively.
+
+"And what was the piece?"
+
+"'The Sign of the Cross.'"
+
+"What, that gruesome show, where every one's slaughtered or chewed up by
+lions! You ought to have gone to the Empire."
+
+"It wasn't far from Leicester Square," he said deprecatingly.
+
+"Not near enough to be very wicked," she retorted. "But, say, I'll tell
+you something if you'll promise never, never to reveal it."
+
+"The word of a bishop--" he began.
+
+"Oh, nonsense! You're not a bishop at present, you're just Joe. Well,
+here it is: I'm an actress!"
+
+"You--are--an--actress!"
+
+"Fact! I'm quite harmless. If you keep six feet from me there's not the
+slightest danger of contamination."
+
+Then, seeing his look of astonished bewilderment, she burst into a peal
+of ringing laughter, crying:
+
+"Why, to look at you, one would think I'd told you that I was a Gorgon!"
+
+"No, no," he said, stammering. "I--I'm delighted. I always really wanted
+to meet an actress--but--er--I hardly know what to say--"
+
+"Don't say anything. Just be your dear unsophisticated self, or you'll
+be a bore. Cecil didn't dare tell you who I was, for fear you'd be
+shocked. Come on, let's go up on deck. It's close down here."
+
+"It is," admitted his Lordship, whose temperature had risen with his
+consumption of champagne, and added:
+
+"We should be well out by this time, for we seem to have been going at
+great speed."
+
+"Isn't it glorious!" she cried. "I wonder what they're doing at
+Blanford. I guess your telegram was an eye-opener."
+
+"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the Bishop, fishing a form out of his pocket.
+"I forgot to send it."
+
+"What, do you mean to say they don't know what's become of us?"
+
+"I never said a word."
+
+"My hat!" she cried. "Won't you get a wigging to-night?"
+
+Then, seeing his evident discomfiture, she added:
+
+"Never mind, I'll take it with you; and if she turns nasty we'll put a
+flea in her ear about those mud-baths. Come, let's have our fun,
+anyway." And she put her hand on the cabin door.
+
+"Why, it's stuck!" she exclaimed. "I can't open it."
+
+The Bishop grasped the handle.
+
+"It isn't stuck!" he cried, shaking it. "It's locked!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+While events had been progressing in the cabin, others of no less
+importance were taking place on deck. Once they were well off the land,
+Funk lost no time in calling a meeting of the crew of the yacht, who
+formed a circle around him.
+
+"Now, my hearties," he said, introducing Marchmont, "this gentleman's
+got a word to say to you which it's worth your while to hear." And he
+put him in the centre of the ring.
+
+"Mates," began the journalist, fitting his speech to the audience he was
+addressing, "I'm a plain man of few words, and I've come to you about a
+plain matter. Mr. Funk will tell you I'm speaking the truth; and you
+know this gentleman," indicating the tramp.
+
+The crowd growled gutturally. They appreciated the tramp's generous
+offers of liquor, but not his society.
+
+"Well," continued Marchmont, ignoring the unfavourable tone, "I suppose
+you'd all like to see the Yankees lick the Dons."
+
+"Ay, ay, you're right there," muttered a burly tar.
+
+"Good for you! We're all of the same family, and blood's thicker than
+water. Of course you want the boys in blue to win; and that being the
+case, I rely on you to help me, like true British tars, the nation's
+bulwarks--!"
+
+"Hear, hear!" growled the crowd appreciatively.
+
+"Now do you know whom you've aboard to-day?" demanded the American.
+
+"The Bishop o' Blanford, and a laidy," came the tones of a voice whose
+owner evidently hailed from London.
+
+"No, you haven't," cried the journalist excitedly. "No, you haven't!
+You've got two low-down Spanish spies!"
+
+"What d'ye say, mate?" demanded the first speaker among the crew.
+
+"I'm telling you the truth," vociferated Marchmont, lying boldly; for he
+feared that the Bishop's conspiracies would go for nothing if they
+suspected he was really a churchman.
+
+"I'm telling you the truth," he repeated. "And these two gentlemen,"
+referring to the mate and the tramp, "will back me up. That man's no
+more the Bishop of Blanford than you are! And the _lady_--well, she's on
+the stage when she isn't in the pay of the Spanish Government. I've
+tracked them from the States to Canada, where I saw them both a month
+ago, and then to England. I don't say how they got hold of this yacht,
+but I ask you, where's the captain and the first mate?"
+
+A growl of suspicion rewarded his efforts.
+
+"They took pretty good care to get out of the way, and leave Mr. Funk
+and you to bear the brunt of any breach of neutrality that these
+conspirators might let you in for."
+
+The sailors began to whisper to one another, and were evidently uneasy.
+
+"Then look at the captain's parting words!" cried the journalist. "'Go
+out into the Solent,' says he, 'and the _Bishop_ will give you your
+sailing orders,' Sailing orders, indeed! What would a parson know about
+sailing a vessel of this sort?"
+
+One of the men nudged another at this, and he of the gruff voice gave it
+as his opinion that "there was summat in it."
+
+"I'll tell you what the sailing orders will be," shouted Marchmont.
+"They'll take you round the Needles, and alongside of a Spanish cruiser.
+And when you get ashore, you'll all be clapped into prison for helping
+the Dons."
+
+"Let's take 'em back now," came a chorus of voices.
+
+"And let 'em go scot-free?" demanded Marchmont.
+
+"Well, what would _you_ do?" asked the spokesman.
+
+"I?" said the journalist. "I'd hand 'em over to the first American ship
+we sight, and send 'em to New York. That takes the burden off _your_
+shoulders. My man has promised you ten shillings apiece. Put 'em on
+board a Yankee ship, and I'll make it a pound." And he brought up a
+handful of gold from his pocket, and jingled it in their faces.
+
+It has been said that money talks, and it undoubtedly did so in this
+case. Marchmont's specious arguments sounded plausible enough, and the
+mate, who was a thoroughly bad lot and had plenty of the journalist's
+money in his pocket, backed him up in every particular. So the crew,
+after a little discussion, accepted the proposition to a man, and the
+fact that the Bishop chose this unfortunate time to make an attack on
+the cabin door probably helped to decide them.
+
+"You see," cried the journalist, as it rattled on its hinges, "they're
+trying to break out now, and are probably armed to the teeth."
+
+"We're with you, mates. The Yankees shall have 'em!" shouted the crowd.
+
+"Good!" he replied. "I'll see if I can induce them to surrender
+quietly." And going to the cabin door, he unlocked it and entered,
+closing it behind him.
+
+"Who has dared to lock us in in this unwarrantable manner?" spluttered
+the Bishop, as the door opened. Then, seeing who it was, he fell back a
+step, exclaiming:
+
+"Why, Mr. Marchmont, how did you come on board?"
+
+"Never mind about that," said the journalist shortly. "I'm here, and I
+locked you in; and when I tell you that I'm thoroughly on to the whole
+show, you'll understand that this high-and-mighty business doesn't go
+down. Got any champagne left? I'm as dry as a bone."
+
+The Bishop was rapidly turning purple with suppressed indignation, but
+Miss Arminster scornfully indicated the location of the wine-cooler.
+
+"Ah, thanks," said the intruder, tossing off a glass. "That's better."
+And he threw himself comfortably down on a divan, saying, as he did so:
+
+"If you two have any weapons, you might as well put them on the table.
+Resistance is quite useless. I've plenty of men awaiting my signal on
+deck."
+
+Violet, who in the light of this last remark suddenly understood the
+position, burst into peals of laughter.
+
+"You'll find it's no laughing matter," cried the journalist angrily.
+
+"I insist upon your instantly explaining your outrageous conduct," said
+the Bishop.
+
+"I can do that in a very few words," replied Marchmont. "As an American
+representative, and authorised agent of the _Daily Leader_, the people's
+bulwark of defence, I arrest you both as Spanish spies."
+
+"He must be mad!" ejaculated his Lordship.
+
+"Oh, no, he isn't. He actually believes it!" cried Violet between her
+paroxysms of merriment. But her companion would not be convinced.
+
+"My dear man," he said blandly, "you must be suffering under some
+grievous delusion. I am, as you should know, having been my guest, the
+Bishop of Blanford, and it is quite impossible that either I or this
+lady should have any connection with a political crime. I must insist
+that you release us at once, and go away quietly, or I shall be forced
+to use harsher measures."
+
+"You do it very well, very well indeed," commented the journalist. "But
+you can't fool me, and so you'd better give up trying."
+
+"I say," remarked Miss Arminster to Marchmont, "you're making an awful
+fool of yourself."
+
+The representative of the _Daily Leader_ shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Won't you consent to let us go, without threshing the whole thing out?"
+she asked.
+
+"What do you take me for?"
+
+"Well, as you please," she said resignedly. "Put your questions; we'll
+answer them."
+
+"Is it best to humour him?" enquired his Lordship in a low voice.
+
+"It's the only way," she replied. "Give him string enough, and see the
+cat's-cradle he'll weave out of it."
+
+"Now," said the journalist cheerfully to the Bishop, "perhaps you'll
+deny that you spent a month or six weeks in the United States this
+spring?"
+
+"A month," acquiesced his Lordship.
+
+"Just so. And during that time you were supposed to be in Scotland
+taking a rest-cure?"
+
+"I admit that such is the case. But how you obtained your information--"
+
+"I got it from your sister--about the rest-cure, I mean."
+
+"Did you tell her--er--that I was--er--in the United States?"
+
+"Yes," replied the journalist.
+
+His Lordship heaved a deep sigh. The future, he thought, held worse
+things for him than arrest and deportation.
+
+"How did you know that I was in the United States and Canada?" he
+demanded.
+
+"I saw you."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"At a little station on the borders of the two countries. You spent the
+night wrapped up in a blanket, and slept under the bar."
+
+"You never--!" broke in Miss Arminster.
+
+The Bishop nodded mournfully. So far the facts were against him, and his
+interlocutor's face shone with a gleam of triumph.
+
+"But in that case--" exclaimed Violet.
+
+"Excuse me, I'll tell the story," said Marchmont, and continued the
+narration.
+
+"You were roused about five in the morning by a man breaking into the
+room."
+
+"So I was," admitted the Bishop. "How did you know?"
+
+"I was asleep in the room overhead, and gave the alarm."
+
+"That's perfectly correct," acquiesced his Lordship. "I remember the
+tones of your voice. It's most astounding."
+
+"And the man who broke into the bar," continued Violet, "was your son."
+
+It was now Marchmont's turn to be astonished.
+
+"What!" he cried, while the Bishop ejaculated:
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"But it was," she insisted. "He went to get the coffee for me."
+
+"Were you in the station, too?" demanded his Lordship.
+
+"No, I was out in a potato-patch."
+
+"You a member of that party of political criminals who jumped off the
+train!" cried the Bishop. "I heard all about it the next morning, but I
+can't believe--"
+
+"It's quite true," she assured him.
+
+"But it's too remarkable," he went on. "I'd gone to America on purpose
+to find my son, of whom I'd heard nothing for a year. And you say he was
+there, and--er--touched me?"
+
+"Why, didn't you see him in Montreal?" asked Marchmont.
+
+"I sailed next day for England. I was on my way to the steamer when the
+accident occurred which detained me overnight."
+
+"Why then did you conceal the purpose of your trip?" demanded his
+tormentor.
+
+"My sister was much opposed to my seeking my son," said his Lordship,
+colouring furiously. "And--I--in short, I had reasons."
+
+The journalist laughed.
+
+"The story's clever," he said. "But I can tell a more interesting tale."
+And he proceeded to relate the adventures of Cecil in the person of "the
+Bishop," to which his Lordship listened with open-mouthed astonishment.
+
+"There!" concluded his captor triumphantly. "Have you anything to say to
+that?"
+
+"I have," chimed in Miss Arminster, and she gave the true version of the
+affair from the time Banborough had first engaged them at the Grand
+Central Station.
+
+"It's a very plausible story," said Marchmont, when she had finished,
+"and does credit to your invention. But fortunately I'm in a condition
+to completely disprove it."
+
+"Really?" she asked. "How so?"
+
+"I can produce a witness of the whole transaction."
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Friend Othniel."
+
+"What! here, on board the yacht?"
+
+"Yes," said Marchmont, "on board this yacht. And he can prove that what
+I say is true."
+
+"What? About the Bishop?" she cried, her voice quivering with suppressed
+merriment.
+
+"Certainly," replied the journalist. "After his release from the Black
+Maria he tells substantially your story, but gives the Bishop the part
+you have carefully assigned to his innocent son."
+
+At this she once more broke into peals of laughter, but at last,
+recovering her speech, managed to gasp out:
+
+"Bring him here, and see what he says."
+
+"I will," said Marchmont, hurriedly leaving the cabin, for her
+marvellous self-possession was beginning to arouse unpleasant suspicions
+even in his mind.
+
+"But what does it all mean?" queried the Bishop helplessly, after the
+journalist's departure. "How dare he say such things about me! I drive a
+prison-van, indeed!"
+
+"I'll tell you," she replied, striving to control her voice. "It's the
+greatest practical joke that ever was. We called your son 'the Bishop,'
+just as a nickname, you see, and of course the tramp heard us, and,
+after we dropped him in Montreal, must have blown the whole thing to
+Marchmont out of spite, and, not knowing any better, he thought your son
+really _was_ the Bishop."
+
+Here his Lordship became speechless, as the truth dawned upon him; and
+at that moment Marchmont entered the cabin, with Friend Othniel in tow.
+
+"There!" he said, pointing to the ecclesiastic. "Is that the Bishop of
+Blanford?"
+
+"Naw," replied the tramp. "He's old enough to be his father, he is. The
+Bishop I means is a young 'un."
+
+"Like this!" cried Violet, opening the locket which Cecil had given her
+in Montreal, and handing it to the tramp.
+
+"That's him to a T," said Friend Othniel. "I'd know him among a
+thousand."
+
+For a moment Marchmont said nothing as he encountered the full force of
+the cruel disillusion, and then with painstaking precision he turned and
+kicked the tramp up the entire flight of cabin stairs.
+
+"Now," remarked the Bishop, "perhaps you'll allow us to go free."
+
+"No!" cried the journalist, slamming the door. "I've wasted heaps of
+cash and no end of time over this wild-goose-chase, but the _Daily
+Leader_ shall have its scoop yet! If you aren't conspirators, I'll make
+you so, in spite of yourselves! You _shall_ be Spanish spies!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+IN WHICH THE BISHOP EATS JAM TART, AND MISS MATILDA HUMBLE-PIE.
+
+
+"Now," remarked the Bishop to Miss Arminster, as Marchmont quitted the
+cabin after this last astounding remark, "Now I'm certain he's mad."
+
+"Oh, no," replied the lady, "it's merely journalistic enterprise. I
+don't blame him for being disappointed. It must be hard to find that
+we're not conspirators, after all."
+
+"But why should he wish to make us so?"
+
+"You dear stupid old Joe!" she exclaimed. "You haven't the remotest
+inkling of what American journalism means. It's sensation first, last,
+and altogether. Think of a bishop, and an English bishop at that, posing
+as an agent of the Spanish secret service, and eloping with an actress
+on somebody else's yacht. Why, I can shut my eyes and see the
+headlines. They're almost certain to print them in red ink. There's fame
+for you!"
+
+"But why should he wish to print it if it's not the truth?"
+
+"Truth! My dear Bishop, who said anything about truth? We were speaking
+of news, and--journalistic enterprise."
+
+At this moment the door again burst open, and Marchmont flung into the
+cabin.
+
+"There!" he said, with a tone of triumph, "we've sighted an American
+steamer down channel, and have hoisted the Spanish flag. We're pursuing
+her, and very presently we shall be captured, and you'll be
+surrendered."
+
+"I suppose," began the Bishop, "that, to a man so devoid of moral
+consciousness as you appear to be, no arguments of mine--"
+
+"Don't waste your breath," broke in Miss Arminster. "They wouldn't."
+
+"Why, I'm sorry to cause you any inconvenience," said the journalist
+amiably, "but you see, my paper's simply panting for sensation, and when
+they hear about this little racket they'll sell extras till they can't
+see straight."
+
+"And what, may I ask, will happen when the truth comes out?" demanded
+his Lordship severely.
+
+"Oh, the war'll probably be over by the time you reach New York, and
+you'll cease to be interesting," replied Marchmont. "Besides, we'll have
+had our scoop, and most likely, when the _Daily Leader_ finds there's no
+case against you they'll give you a return ticket. The management's
+generally pretty liberal."
+
+"Well, I must say," spluttered the Bishop, "that of all the
+brazen--unconscionable--!"
+
+"Why did you raise the Spanish flag?" interrupted Miss Arminster.
+
+"That was my idea," said the journalist, "and I'm rather proud of it.
+You see, we could hardly reverse the Union Jack as a sign of distress,
+and then go full speed ahead, but I don't think an American ship would
+resist taking a Spanish prize; and as soon as they get within firing
+range we'll run up a flag of truce. By the way," he continued, becoming
+quite courteous, now that he felt he had them in his power, "why do you
+remain in this stuffy cabin? I shall be very glad to have you up on
+deck, provided you'll give me your parole."
+
+"What, not to escape?" asked Violet. "Did you think we were going to
+jump overboard and swim ashore?"
+
+"No. I mean that you should give your parole not to be anything but
+Spaniards."
+
+"I am afraid we couldn't manage that," she replied. "The Bishop doesn't
+look nearly ferocious enough."
+
+"I absolutely refuse to become a party to this deception!" said his
+Lordship.
+
+"Oh, I don't ask you to do that," returned Marchmont, "only to promise
+that you'll not try and enlist the sympathies of the crew in your
+behalf."
+
+"I shall not promise anything," said the Bishop, "nor shall I allow this
+lady to do so. I'm a man of peace, but if ever I get hold of you on dry
+land I'll horsewhip you, if it costs me my see; and if you don't leave
+this cabin at once I'll treat you as you treated your friend. You are a
+thorough blackguard, and not fit to associate with gentlemen!"
+
+The journalist started to say something, but, remembering that his
+accuser was muscular, thought better of it, shrugged his shoulders, and
+went out silently, locking the door behind him.
+
+"There!" said his Lordship, "I can breathe more freely now."
+
+Miss Arminster made no reply, for the excellent reason that her head was
+out of a port-hole, and she could not hear clearly what was said.
+Presently she pulled it in again, crying, as she did so:
+
+"Oh, do look! This is great sport! The American ship is running away
+from us!"
+
+Such was indeed the case. The vessel they were overhauling was a small
+tramp steamer, which had evidently found courage, through the general
+incapacity of the Spanish navy and the fancied security of neutral
+waters, to flaunt the Stars and Stripes. It was therefore most
+disconcerting to find herself suddenly pursued in the English Channel by
+a craft which had every appearance of being a Spanish gunboat. No sooner
+had she caught a glimpse of the red and yellow flag of her enemy than
+she crowded on to her yards every stitch of canvass she possessed, in
+the hope of obtaining some advantage from the light breeze that was
+blowing, while the black clouds of smoke which belched from her single
+funnel showed that her engines were being driven to their utmost
+capacity. She having a long lead and the combined assistance of wind and
+steam, the distance between the pursuer and the pursued decreased
+slowly, and it soon became evident that it was to be a stern chase,
+which is proverbially a long chase. The yacht, therefore, turned about
+in search of some fresh enemy to whom she might surrender, and in this
+fortune favored her, for down the Channel came a great liner, whose
+name, albeit she flew temporarily the flag of another nation, proclaimed
+her to be an American ship, with an American captain and crew.
+
+Those on board the "Homing Pigeon" now adopted different tactics, and an
+inverted British ensign replaced the banner of the Dons.
+
+As the yacht stood directly in the path of the oncoming ocean greyhound,
+and flew signals of distress which she could not disregard, the great
+ship was forced to heave to. Marchmont hastened to convey the news to
+his prisoners in the cabin, saying that he considered them very
+fortunate, as they had every prospect of a speedy and pleasant voyage,
+and cautioning them at the same time, as he led the way up the cabin
+stairs, that resistance was futile, and that any remarks of theirs to
+the crew would only be so much waste of breath. To all of which neither
+deigned to answer a word, realising that in their present precarious
+position silence was not only the most dignified but also the safest
+course.
+
+As they reached the deck the great liner was almost abreast of them, and
+gradually came to a standstill with clouds of pent-up steam pouring from
+her safety-valves.
+
+"What do you want?" bawled her chief officer through a megaphone, his
+voice sounding very large and clear from the great height above them.
+
+"We've two prisoners of war, Spanish spies, and we wish to hand them
+over!" shouted the mate in return.
+
+"This isn't an American ship," came the reply.
+
+"Yes, it is," howled Marchmont; "we know better! You belong to the 'Pink
+Star' line."
+
+The chief officer conferred with the captain.
+
+"It's Mason and Slidell the other way round," he said. "I wouldn't
+touch 'em with a ten-foot pole. Besides--" and here he seized the
+megaphone from his subordinate and yelled through it:
+
+"You infernal idiots! don't you know the war with Spain is over? We've
+declared a truce!"
+
+"I don't believe it," cried Marchmont, shaking his fist at the great
+steamship in a paroxysm of disappointed rage. "It's only an excuse to
+shirk your duty! We've brought them out to you, and you've got to take
+them! I'll report you to the government! I'll--!"
+
+The sharp ring of the engine-room bell from the liner's bridge was the
+only reply vouchsafed him, and a moment later the big ship forged ahead,
+her captain very red in the face and swearing like a trooper: for the
+most precious thing on board a racer of that class is time, and the
+"Homing Pigeon" had been wasting it.
+
+The Bishop, noting the sheepish faces of the mate and his two fellow
+conspirators, and the lowering glances of the crew, turned to Miss
+Arminster, saying:
+
+"We'd better return to the cabin, my dear. I think there's going to be
+trouble."
+
+The little actress followed his Lordship's gaze, and descended without a
+word of protest. She thought so, too.
+
+They had hardly entered the saloon, when there came a respectful knock
+at the door, and an elderly seaman entered, ducking his head.
+
+"Well, my good man," said his Lordship, "what can I do for you?"
+
+"Meanin' no disrespect, sir, be you really the Bishop of Blanford?"
+
+"Certainly I am," that gentleman replied. "You see my dress, and," as a
+happy thought struck him, "here's one of my cards to prove my identity."
+And he handed the sailor a bit of pasteboard with his title engraved
+thereon.
+
+"And the lady?" asked the seaman.
+
+"The lady is no more connected with this absurd charge than I am,"
+pursued the Bishop. "You've been grievously misled by your mate and
+these two strangers. But if you'll take us safe to the nearest port,
+I'll speak a word in your favour to your master, Lord Downton, who's an
+intimate friend of mine. Can you read?"
+
+"Yes, your honour."
+
+"Then here's a letter from his Lordship, which I fortunately have by me,
+requesting me to join his yacht. Read it yourself, and show it to your
+fellows as a proof of who I am." And he handed him the missive.
+
+The sailor took it, ducked again, and retired silently, and there was
+presently a great shuffling of feet on the deck above.
+
+"What do you think they're doing?" asked Violet.
+
+"I trust they're coming to their senses--and if--" But his remarks were
+interrupted by a most terrific row overhead, shouts, blows, and curses.
+
+"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the Bishop. "What can be the matter?"
+
+"They're squaring accounts with Marchmont, Friend Othniel, and the mate,
+I guess," she replied, "and I hope they'll half kill them."
+
+"Fie, fie! my dear Leopard--most unchristian. I must certainly go and--"
+
+"No, you mustn't do anything of the sort! Stay right where you are.
+We're in hot enough water already." And suiting the action to the word,
+she pushed him back on to the divan.
+
+"Well, really--!" remarked the Bishop, and collapsed amiably.
+
+Presently the sounds of commotion ceased, and gave way to laughter, but
+laughter with a certain grim note in it that boded ill for those laughed
+at. After a little, there came another knock at the cabin door, and this
+time quite a deputation entered the saloon, the sailor who had first
+visited them being the spokesman.
+
+"Having disposed of those gents as you suggested--" he began.
+
+"No, no!" the Bishop hastened to disclaim, "I suggested nothing."
+
+"Well," said the seaman, "we've fixed 'em, anyway. And now we're heading
+for the nearest port, which the same's Weymouth, and we hopes you'll
+overlook what's gone before, and come on deck and take command of this
+yacht."
+
+"I will certainly come on deck," replied the Bishop. "But as to assuming
+command of the ship, I hardly feel qualified. Is there not some one
+among you--?"
+
+"I'm bo'sn, please your honour," volunteered the speaker.
+
+"Ah," said the Bishop blandly, "then I appoint you." And as the men fell
+back, he escorted Miss Arminster upstairs.
+
+As they appeared on deck, a striking scene met their eyes. Three
+wretched figures were triced up to the mainmast. They had only such
+remnants of clothes remaining on their persons as decency demanded, and
+they had all evidently made a recent acquaintance with the ship's
+tar-barrel and slush-bucket.
+
+As his Lordship and Miss Arminster appeared, the crew approached,
+expecting a speech.
+
+"I hardly know what to say," began the Bishop to Violet.
+
+"Let me speak to them, will you?" she asked, her eyes sparkling. "I
+understand human nature pretty well. I have to, in my profession."
+
+His Lordship nodded assent, and a moment later she had sprung on to the
+cabin hatch, a most entrancing little figure, and instantly commanded
+the attention and admiration of her audience.
+
+"Mates!" she cried, in her clear ringing voice, "mates, I want a word
+with you."
+
+"Speak up, and welcome!" called some one in the crowd, while the
+boatswain, nudging a comrade in the ribs, remarked under his breath:
+
+"My eye, but she's a stunner!"
+
+Silence having been obtained, she continued:
+
+"I've only this to say. We've all been made fools of. Those gentlemen
+tied up to the mast made fools of you, and you've certainly made fools
+of them."
+
+A loud laugh greeted this sally.
+
+"And," she resumed, "if it ever gets out that his Lordship the Bishop of
+Blanford and myself were carried off as Spanish spies, we'll never hear
+the last of it. Now let's all keep silence for the sake of the others.
+Put us ashore at Weymouth, and we'll say to Lord Downton that it was our
+wish to be landed there. He won't know about the occurrences of this
+day, unless some of you tell him. You might leave the journalist and the
+tramp at Weymouth, too. I guess they'll have had enough of the sea to
+last them for some time. And oh, by the way, I suppose Mr. Marchmont
+intended to pay you for this. Perhaps you'll see that the division is
+properly carried out."
+
+"Ay, ay!" came from twenty throats, followed by a rousing cheer.
+
+And so it happened that they reached _terra firma_ about six in the
+afternoon. But Weymouth, while it is geographically not far distant from
+Blanford, is miles away by the railroad and its connections, and they
+did not reach the palace till nearly midnight.
+
+Everything was dark and still, and as they stood shivering in the porch,
+the Bishop remarked, producing his latch-key:
+
+"Do you know I--I'm really afraid to open the door."
+
+She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and they entered softly.
+
+"Is there anything I can get for the Leopard, before she retires?" he
+asked apologetically, as they crossed the stone-paved floor of the
+palace by the aid of a single bedroom candle, which only served to
+accentuate the surrounding darkness.
+
+"No, thank you, I'm all right," she faltered, putting her foot on the
+first step of the stairs. And then, without the slightest warning, she
+burst into tears.
+
+His Lordship, completely bewildered at this unexpected turn of affairs,
+patted her on the head, saying: "Dear, dear!" much as he would have done
+to obstreperous babies suspicious of baptism. But the fair Violet wept
+on.
+
+"What is it?" said the Bishop. "What have I done?"
+
+"You haven't done anything," she replied between her sobs, "but I--I'm
+so dreadfully hungry."
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed his Lordship, "I forgot all about dinner."
+
+It was quite true that, in his anxiety to catch trains and make a series
+of bewildering connections, the question of food had entirely escaped
+his memory, and, now he came to think of it, he was ravenously hungry
+himself.
+
+"I'm so sorry," he said helplessly. "We must see what we can find."
+
+It was years since he had dared to investigate his own pantries; but
+under the spur of Miss Arminster's necessities he achieved prodigies of
+valour, even breaking into that holy of holies, his sister's jam-closet.
+The little actress aided and abetted him, creating havoc among jars of
+sardines, olives, and caviare. And then, while they were in the midst of
+their midnight orgy, a figure appeared before them--a figure clad in an
+indescribable dressing-gown and carrying a bedroom candle.
+
+"Josephus," said the apparition, "is that you?"
+
+"Yes, my dear," replied the Bishop, with his mouth full of jam tart, "it
+is."
+
+"I wonder you've the face to enter the house!" said his sister.
+
+"His own house! That's good," commented Miss Arminster from the midst of
+sardines.
+
+"I admit that the circumstances are unusual," remarked the Bishop,
+cutting himself another large slice of the pastry, "but the train
+service is most irregular, and, as you can see, it was necessary to
+bring the Leopard home to-night, and so--"
+
+"Josephus!" broke in his sister, "there are no leopards in this country,
+and I _can_ see that to the other sins you have undoubtedly committed
+you have added the vice of--"
+
+But she got no further, for the Bishop, casting a glance at each of the
+two women, decided that now or never was salvation at hand, and said
+brusquely:
+
+"Matilda, go to bed at once!"
+
+It was the first time he had ever spoken to her in tones of authority,
+and his sister, not believing her ears, returned to the charge.
+
+"And as for that shameless minx--" she continued; but his Lordship again
+interrupted, remarking severely:
+
+"Matilda, go to bed instantly!"
+
+But the spinster was not yet defeated.
+
+"Josephus!" she began, in her most approved style.
+
+"Go to bed!" repeated the Bishop sharply.
+
+For one moment she wavered. Then, realising that under the present
+conditions resistance was worse than useless, she turned slowly upon her
+heel, and marched upstairs with the air of a martyr going to the stake.
+
+"You were right," said his Lordship moodily, as he disposed of the last
+piece of pie-crust.
+
+"Right about what?" asked Violet.
+
+"Mud-baths," returned the Bishop.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+IN WHICH MISS ARMINSTER PROPOSES TO MARRY AGAIN.
+
+
+Cecil and Miss Matilda breakfasted alone the next morning. This was not
+by intention, but by fate. Violet and the Bishop, for obvious reasons,
+kept their respective rooms. Mrs. Mackintosh had felt it her duty to
+breakfast with, and comfort, her friend in distress, likewise to receive
+an early account of the doings of the day before; while Smith and
+Spotts, hearing that the fugitives had returned, took an early breakfast
+and adjourned to the neighboring golf-links. Cecil, however, who slept
+well, came down at the usual hour, quite unconscious of what was
+impending, and calmly walked into the trap.
+
+After the ancient butler had passed the tea and toast, and then
+withdrawn, as was his wont, leaving them to carve out their own
+salvation, Miss Matilda lost no time in opening up the contest. She had
+been at swords' points with her nephew ever since the evening before, as
+a result of his stoutly maintaining his father's innocence, and the
+manner in which she reported her midnight meeting would have made even
+Marchmont envious.
+
+"And now of course he'll have to marry her," she wound up her recital.
+
+"Good heavens! I hope not!" ejaculated Cecil.
+
+"I'm glad," remarked his aunt stiffly, "that we've at least one point of
+agreement."
+
+"Oh, we are quite agreed on that," he returned. "It would never do at
+all; in fact it's quite impossible."
+
+"You know, then?" she demanded.
+
+"Know what?" he asked cautiously.
+
+"That she's been married dozens of times already."
+
+"I don't think I can subscribe to more than half a dozen. But Miss
+Arminster certainly does seem to have a fondness for that sort of
+thing."
+
+"And in the face of such scandalous proceedings do you consider her a
+fit person to marry your poor misguided father?"
+
+"I've told you I don't approve," he said, and added: "How did you come
+to know about Miss Arminster's marriages?"
+
+"Mr. Marchmont told me."
+
+"Confound him!"
+
+"Cecil! Mr. Marchmont's a gentleman."
+
+"He's a mischief-maker of the first water."
+
+"Do not let us waste time in discussing his character. The important
+question is, what are we to do about your father's marriage?"
+
+"Stop it."
+
+"But how?" she asked. "Shall I speak?"
+
+"No, no; leave it to me," he said. "I'll undertake to settle the matter.
+If you saw the Bishop, you'd only irritate him."
+
+"He told me to go to bed, last night, after that woman had insulted me."
+
+"Insulted you? I thought you told me she'd nothing to say for herself."
+
+"Her presence was an insult, and one of us leaves this house to-day,"
+replied his aunt, and swept out of the room.
+
+Cecil gulped down his tea, and, ringing the bell, sent an urgent message
+to Miss Arminster, requesting a meeting in his aunt's boudoir, which,
+considering the purpose of the interview, he was sure Miss Matilda would
+not object to put at her disposal.
+
+Violet received him in about twenty minutes, apologising for her
+charming tea-gown, on the ground of being somewhat seedy.
+
+"Our supper last night was rather extraordinary, you know," she said.
+
+"I've only heard one version," he replied.
+
+"Miss Matilda's?" she asked, laughing.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"I fancy it was lurid enough," she went on; "but your good father's out
+of leading-strings this time, and no mistake."
+
+"Tell me all about it," he said. "I'm most anxious to know."
+
+"Of course you are," she returned. "So here goes."
+
+Banborough enjoyed the recital immensely, and laughed immoderately at
+certain passages.
+
+"So the governor knows all about our adventures?" he said, when she had
+finished. "Did he seem much upset?"
+
+"Only about not recognising you when you blacked his eye under the bar."
+
+"What a good old chap he is! Just think of his coming all that way to
+hunt me up! I wish he could have some fun out of life."
+
+"We must try and help him to do so," she said.
+
+"Yes," he replied, suddenly recollecting the object of his mission.
+"It's just that that I've come about. You see he's awfully
+conscientious, and when he's thought things over a bit, helped by my
+aunt's amiable suggestions, he'll come to the conclusion that he ought
+to marry you, you know--and so--well, he'll try to do it," he ended
+lamely, hoping she would see the point without further elucidation on
+his part.
+
+She was quick to take him up.
+
+"And you don't think that's just the best way for him to have a good
+time? Sour grapes--eh, my son?"
+
+"No, no; only he's certain to propose to you."
+
+"Supposing he has done so?"
+
+"Well--did you accept him?"
+
+"What do you think?" she asked.
+
+"I don't quite see how you could--under the circumstances."
+
+"Oh, he'd only had two bottles of champagne," she said, purposely
+misunderstanding him from pure joy of seeing him flounder.
+
+"I didn't mean that," he went on. "But, anyway, his conscience
+will reassert itself, and he'll probably propose again this
+morning--ponderously."
+
+"And you're afraid I might accept?"
+
+"I'm sure you'd make a most charming step-mamma," he replied, "only--"
+
+"Only what?"
+
+"Only the--the others might object, mightn't they?"
+
+"The others?"
+
+"All the men you've married," he blurted out, "if you will have it."
+
+"I see," she said meditatively. "And you don't want to run the 'dear
+Bishop' in for another scandal."
+
+"Of course, if you choose to put it that way--"
+
+"It's the way you'd put it if you only had the pluck," she retorted.
+
+"Are you awfully angry with me?" he asked, looking at her.
+
+"Not a bit," she replied. "From your point of view it's quite
+justifiable, I suppose, and I'm only considering the best way out of the
+dilemma."
+
+"Are there several?"
+
+"There's only one that I care to choose."
+
+"And that is?"
+
+"I shall marry again."
+
+"Good heavens! not--!"
+
+"Not your father, no; some one else."
+
+"But surely--!"
+
+"You see," she continued calmly, ignoring his interruption, "if I marry
+some one at once your father can't have any feeling of--shall we say
+responsibility? And it'll not be necessary for me to go into what Miss
+Matilda would call 'my shameful past.'"
+
+"But I really couldn't allow--"
+
+"Oh, I'm not going to marry you either, so you needn't be alarmed. Can't
+you make some suggestions to help me out?"
+
+"I am afraid you must excuse me," he said, fast becoming scandalised at
+her matter-of-fact way of approaching the subject.
+
+"Well, of course," she went on thoughtfully, "there are all your
+father's chaplains, but they're young, and prone to take things
+seriously. No, I don't think they'd do. And there's the butler. No, he
+wouldn't answer, either."
+
+"Perhaps Miss Matilda would lend you Professor Smith."
+
+"No," she said, "I don't think I'd have the heart to deprive her of him.
+On the whole, I think I'll marry Mr. Spotts. He's nice--and handy."
+
+"But mightn't he have something to say?" began Banborough.
+
+"Probably," admitted Violet; "but he generally does what he's told, and
+as he isn't married to any one else, I dare say he'll prove amenable
+when he understands the position. I'll try and see him this morning,
+and," as a brilliant idea struck her, "your father shall perform the
+ceremony. I never was married by a Bishop before. Won't it be jolly!"
+
+"You surely can't seriously intend--" began Cecil.
+
+"Yes, I do. Now don't be stupid, but run along and let me finish my
+toilet." And she ran out of the room.
+
+Banborough walked away in a maze. He had thought to straighten matters
+out, and he had only got them into a far worse tangle. That Miss
+Arminster had no conscientious scruples about adding another husband to
+her quota was bad enough, but that his innocent, unsuspecting father
+should be allowed to disgrace his cloth by solemnising such a marriage
+was really more than he could stand. In his righteous wrath he
+determined that the Bishop should know the whole truth, soothing his
+conscience by the thought that if he did not tell him, Miss Matilda
+would.
+
+In the hall of the palace, however, he ran across Spotts, laden with the
+implements of golf, and all unconscious of his impending fate.
+
+"Look here, old man," said Cecil, "I want to have five minutes' chat
+with you."
+
+"I am quite at your service," replied his friend. "In fact I was just
+coming to look you up myself. Now that the war's over, I must really be
+thinking of going away, as I've imposed long enough already on your
+hospitality."
+
+"Oh, it isn't about that I want to see you," said Banborough. "It's
+about your getting married."
+
+"My getting married?" queried Spotts.
+
+"Yes. It seems there's a lady who has matrimonial designs on you. I
+thought it was only the part of a friend to warn you in due season."
+
+"If it's your aunt," returned the actor, "I'm very much obliged. I think
+I could manage to get packed up and leave by the afternoon train."
+
+"No, no; it isn't so bad as that," said his host. "Or, rather, it's
+worse. Miss Arminster has you under consideration."
+
+"As a husband?"
+
+"Yes. I think she means to marry you to-morrow or next day, and have my
+father perform the ceremony."
+
+"Oh, I see. And you've some feeling about it."
+
+"Well, yes," admitted Cecil, "I'm afraid I have."
+
+"I suppose you'd like to take my place?"
+
+"No, it isn't that either. Yon don't seem to see the point. Miss
+Arminster wants to marry _you_."
+
+"Well, isn't that a question between Miss Arminster and myself?"
+
+"Naturally. But then she's married pretty frequently, hasn't she? Of
+course, if all her husbands are dead--"
+
+"Oh, no," said Spotts. "I don't think she's ever lost a husband."
+
+"But you surely can't contemplate--" began Cecil.
+
+"Well, you see," contended the actor, "this is the first time she's ever
+asked me to marry her, and one can't be so ungallant as to refuse a
+lady."
+
+"And you'll really add yourself to her list?"
+
+Spotts shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"My dear fellow," he said, "I don't want to appear rude, but this
+interference in my prospective matrimonial affairs seems to me
+ill-timed. Miss Arminster hasn't as yet proposed to me, and if she does,
+I'll probably consent to oblige her. Anyway, it's doing you a favour, as
+I suppose your father would wish to marry her if I didn't." And turning
+on his heel, he walked away.
+
+As he ascended the stairs, he met Violet coming down. They were standing
+on the broad landing, and for the moment were quite alone and out of
+earshot.
+
+"I say!" burst out the actor. "Do you know I have just been warned
+against you by your friend Banborough. A joke's a joke, but this is
+going too far."
+
+"I know, Alvy," she said, "I know, and I'm awfully sorry. But it's
+almost over."
+
+"I hope it is," he replied. "I have held an equivocal position for
+months, and it isn't pleasant. Why, I've practically seen nothing of
+you."
+
+"It hasn't been pleasant for me either, old man. But, to speak frankly,
+you know as well as I do that it's been largely a sentimental interest
+which has caused Cecil to get us all out of this scrape. However, if he
+doesn't tell his father to-day--and I tried hard enough to force him to
+do so this morning--I shall."
+
+"Good! Then his Lordship's Leopard will be free," said Spotts. And
+pressing her hand, he proceeded on his way upstairs.
+
+In the face of his two interviews, Cecil felt he had no option but to
+refer the whole matter to the Bishop, whom he found in his study. He
+received a somewhat grim reception from the old gentleman, to whom a
+sleepless night had afforded ample opportunity for reflecting on the
+vagaries of his son, to which he, not altogether unjustly, attributed
+his adventures of the preceding day.
+
+After formal salutations had been exchanged, the younger man, feeling
+that a disagreeable business was the better over, lost no time in coming
+to the point.
+
+"I don't know that there's anything to be said about the past, father,"
+he began.
+
+"I should think there was a great deal to be said," returned his
+Lordship brusquely. "But this is perhaps not the best time to say it.
+I've been told a very astonishing story by Miss Arminster."
+
+"About the Black Maria and--the Spanish plot?"
+
+"About your wretched novel, sir!"
+
+"Ah, yes. Well, I corroborate it all, word for word. Miss Arminster told
+me about it this morning."
+
+"You've seen her, then?"
+
+"Yes. We had a chat concerning a number of things. But, as you suggest,
+we might reserve the discussion of our joint American experiences till
+another occasion, so I won't mention them beyond apologising to you for
+having blacked your eye under the bar; though of course I could hardly
+have supposed that your ecclesiastical duties would have placed you in
+just that position."
+
+"Say, rather, the search for an unregenerate son," suggested the Bishop,
+with a twinkle in his eye which showed him to be in better humour.
+
+"Well, anyway, you gave as good as you got," said Cecil. "My ribs were
+sore for a week afterwards."
+
+"Ah," replied his Lordship. "I thought I must have landed you one. I
+haven't quite forgotten the athletics of my college days."
+
+"Then we're quits," returned Cecil. "But it was more than good of you to
+come out there and look for me. A father who could do all that deserves
+a somewhat better son than I've been in the past; and in the future--"
+
+"Don't say it, Cecil. I know it." And the Bishop gripped his hand in a
+way that caused the mental and moral atmosphere to clear instantly.
+
+"And now," said his son, "I want to talk about Miss Arminster."
+
+"It's the subject nearest my heart," replied his father.
+
+"I asked her to marry me at Montreal," Cecil remarked simply.
+
+"So I inferred from what she said on the yacht," said his Lordship.
+
+"And you proposed to her yesterday."
+
+"Did she tell you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, the fact is she doesn't want to marry either of us."
+
+The Bishop nodded his head despondently.
+
+"But," continued the younger man, "she contemplates marrying some one
+else."
+
+"Ah," said his Lordship, "I'm heartily glad she proposes to
+_marry_--after yesterday."
+
+"Quite so, and she means to ask you to perform the ceremony."
+
+"Isn't that rather--"
+
+"Rubbing it in?" suggested Cecil. "So it seemed to me."
+
+"Who is the--er--prospective bride-groom?"
+
+"Spotts."
+
+"He seems a good fellow."
+
+"Yes, but--will you forgive me if I speak frankly? There can't be any
+feeling of jealousy between us; we've both been worsted."
+
+"What do you wish to say?"
+
+"That I'm afraid this marriage must not be permitted. You see, Miss
+Arminster isn't quite what she seems."
+
+"If you're going to say anything against that young lady--!" began his
+Lordship angrily.
+
+"You forget," said his son, "I wanted to marry her."
+
+His father remembered; and remembering, said:
+
+"Proceed."
+
+"Well, I found out, for myself I mean, that Miss Arminster had been
+married a number of times."
+
+"A number of times!"
+
+"Half a dozen at least. Perhaps more."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"She admitted as much to me."
+
+"But surely--!"
+
+"As far as I know, none of her husbands has died."
+
+"In America," began the Bishop, "the divorce laws are lax, and
+perhaps--"
+
+"Oh, no, I'm sure she hasn't been divorced. I don't think she'd approve
+of it."
+
+"But then--it means--"
+
+"Yes, that's just the point. And so another marriage with this Mr.
+Spotts--"
+
+"Must be stopped at all costs!" cried his Lordship, growing very red in
+the face with agitation.
+
+"I thought you'd feel so," said his son. "And that's why I ventured--"
+
+At this moment Miss Matilda entered the room.
+
+"What are you talking about, Josephus?" she demanded, assuming a
+domination of which she felt by no means sure. "Did I hear you mention
+that hussy's name?"
+
+"I was speaking," said the Bishop, "of _Miss Arminster_. Cecil tells me
+she's to marry Mr. Spotts."
+
+"That's impossible," snapped Miss Matilda.
+
+"What do you mean?" asked her brother.
+
+"I mean what I say. While you were shamelessly gallivanting down the
+Channel, I went over to the little church near the ruined abbey which
+you visited the day you met Mr. Marchmont, and there I found a record of
+the marriage, in 1895, of this _person_ who calls herself _Miss_
+Arminster, and I say she can't marry Mr. Spotts."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because she's married to him already!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+IN WHICH MISS ARMINSTER VERIFIES THE PROVERB.
+
+
+The Bishop was pacing his garden. He was far from happy. It is true he
+had not been worsted in his encounter with his sister. There had been a
+drawn battle, and he had retired with dignity, conceding nothing but
+that he would ask Miss Arminster to come to his study at noon and
+explain her position. He could not believe the charges against the
+charming Violet, but nevertheless he felt decidedly uncomfortable: for
+even if she cleared herself, she was still married, and the palace
+lacked a mistress.
+
+It was easy to say that Miss Matilda should be deposed, but who should
+take her place? Not another man's wife, certainly. For the first time
+in all these years, his Lordship realised how lonely he had been. He
+should have remarried long before, and indeed even so unworldly a person
+as he knew that more than one young lady in Blanford would have viewed
+with complacency the prospect of becoming Mrs. Bishop.
+
+A young wife, however, even as attractive as the fair Violet, was not,
+he told himself, exactly what he wanted. He had tried a period of double
+rule in which his sister was the power behind the throne, and it was
+infinitely worse than the present régime. No; if he took another
+helpmate, she must be a person of strong will, some one who could hold
+her own against all comers, some one who should have an inexhaustible
+fund of sympathy for his work, some one whose appreciation of the
+exalted position of the Bishop of Blanford should be so great as to
+blind her, occasionally at least, to those minor faults to which,
+Scripture tells us, all flesh is heir.
+
+It was at just this point in his meditations that his Lordship, turning
+sharply round the corner of a large gooseberry-bush, came suddenly upon
+Mrs. Mackintosh. Their surprise was mutual, for the good lady had
+evidently been gardening, and was suffering from the rigour of the game.
+
+"That head man of yours is a duffer," she said sharply, pointing a very
+earthy trowel at the unconscious figure of the gardener, who was busy in
+the middle distance digging potatoes. "A man," she continued, "who calls
+a plain, every-day squash a vegetable marrow isn't fit to run a
+well-ordered truck-patch; though it's no more than might be expected in
+a country where they sell bread by the yard, and flour by the gallon.
+And what, I should like to know, is a 'punnet'?"
+
+"I'm afraid, madam, I must confess my ignorance," replied the Bishop.
+
+"I thought as much," she retorted. "And yet they put you in command of a
+diocese. Your gardener said to me this morning: 'I'll pick a "punnet" of
+strawberries to-day.' 'You'll do nothing of the kind,' I told him.
+'Pick them in a Christian basket, or not at all.'"
+
+His Lordship laughed.
+
+"It's some sort of measure, I imagine," he remarked.
+
+"I shouldn't wonder. And your cook's just as bad. She asked me yesterday
+if I liked jugged hare. 'Let me see your jug,' said I, 'and then I'll
+tell you.' And as sure's I'm a sinner, she told me she never used one
+for that dish!"
+
+"Now you speak of it," said his Lordship, "I don't think I ever saw one
+myself. But what are you doing this morning?"
+
+"Straightening the peas."
+
+"Straightening the peas?" he asked, thoroughly mystified.
+
+"Yes, they're all waggly. When I plant my garden I take a string and two
+pegs and plant the seed along a line; but these just seem to be put in
+anyhow."
+
+"Is it good for the peas?" asked the Bishop suspiciously, as he saw them
+being rooted up and reset.
+
+"I can't say," she returned sharply. "But things ought to be straight at
+an episcopal palace, if they are anywhere."
+
+"So they should," he admitted mournfully, "but it's far from being the
+case. That's why I came out to consult you."
+
+"Go ahead, then. You talk, and I'll dig."
+
+And while the plants were being arranged to an ecclesiastical standard,
+he retailed to her the charges against Violet.
+
+"Do you believe them?" she asked, jamming her trowel up to its hilt in
+the soft earth.
+
+"Of course I do not."
+
+"Right you are," she said. "I know the whole story, and it's nothing to
+be ashamed of, I give you my word."
+
+"You relieve me immensely."
+
+"It's merely American enterprise," continued the old lady. "That's why
+they call her the Leopard."
+
+"The Leopard-- I don't understand. She asked me to call her that."
+
+"Well, I won't steal her thunder. She'll tell you herself."
+
+"But she is married?"
+
+"Oh, yes."
+
+The Bishop sighed.
+
+"That disappoints you?" said Mrs. Mackintosh thoughtfully, balancing a
+pea-plant in her hand.
+
+"Yes; at least I'd hoped--"
+
+"I know. She told me. We haven't any secrets from each other."
+
+"You see," continued his Lordship, "if my sister leaves me, I must have
+some one to take her place; otherwise--"
+
+"She won't go."
+
+"Yes," said the Bishop; "that's just the point."
+
+"You ought to marry at once."
+
+"I feel that myself; but then, you see, there's no one who would care to
+marry me--no one at least who--"
+
+"You don't want a young chit."
+
+"No," said his Lordship. "Somebody more like you."
+
+Mrs. Mackintosh paused in her gardening.
+
+"Look here," she said. "Are you going to propose to me next?"
+
+"I--was--thinking of it," admitted the Bishop.
+
+"As a last resource?"
+
+"My dear Mrs. Mackintosh!"
+
+"I don't know as I ever could be a bishopess," replied that lady,
+inadvertently resetting a pea-plant upside down.
+
+"There's Jonah," said the Bishop, resorting to diplomacy. "I shall never
+be able to complete that last volume without the spur of your
+appreciative criticism."
+
+"Well," she replied, partially relenting, "I'd do a good deal
+for--Jonah."
+
+"Then you will!" he cried.
+
+"I've one row of those peas left," she returned, "and when I've reset
+them I'll give you your answer. That'll be in fifteen minutes. Now go
+away, or you'll fidget round, and I sha'n't get 'em straight." And
+without another word she resumed her digging.
+
+Fifteen minutes later his Lordship was at her side.
+
+"There's one more plant left," remarked Mrs. Mackintosh, cleaning her
+trowel and addressing herself to the task.
+
+"And are you going to say Yes when you have finished?"
+
+"Yes," said the lady, "I am, but it's mostly on account of Jonah."
+
+The Bishop ruthlessly set his foot on the tender shoot which intervened
+between him and happiness, crushing it to the earth.
+
+Some time later Mrs. Mackintosh remarked:
+
+"The cathedral clock is striking twelve, and you're due in the study."
+
+"You mean, my dear, that _we_ are due," replied his Lordship.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On their arrival in the Bishop's sanctum, they found the full force of
+the company assembled to receive them.
+
+Miss Matilda looked on this gathering with suspicion.
+
+"I do not see," she said, "the need of so many witnesses to what must
+prove, I fear, a humiliating confession."
+
+"I've come," returned Mrs. Mackintosh, "to lend moral support to--" She
+glanced at the Bishop, changed her mind, and supplemented--"Miss
+Arminster."
+
+"Shall I speak?" asked Miss Matilda, ignoring her remark.
+
+"I will speak," said his Lordship. "It is my house, and my place to do
+so."
+
+His sister sat down hurriedly.
+
+"I've sent for you, my dear," he continued, turning to Violet, "because
+certain charges have been made against you by Mr. Marchmont and--others,
+and, as my son informs me that you contemplate marrying Mr. Spotts, and
+asking me to perform the ceremony, I feel it is my duty--"
+
+"She's already--" broke in his sister.
+
+"I am speaking, Matilda," he said quietly, and she collapsed.
+
+"You mustn't think," he went on, "that my asking you to explain your
+position implies any belief on my part in the charges made against you.
+I've only requested this interview because I thought you'd like an
+opportunity to disprove idle gossip."
+
+"It's very kind of you," she replied, "and I shall avail myself of it
+gladly."
+
+"Quite so. Now my sister tells me that she's seen, in a neighbouring
+church, the record of your marriage to Mr. Spotts. Is this so?"
+
+"Certainly," said Violet. "I married him there in 1895."
+
+Miss Matilda sniffed viciously.
+
+"Mr. Marchmont," continued the Bishop, "in whose statements, I need
+hardly say, I place no reliance, informed my sister that you had been
+married with unusual frequency; and my son tells me, also, that you've
+admitted to him a--er--a considerable number of--er--matrimonial
+alliances. Would you--er--er--consider it an intrusion on my part if I
+asked how many times you have been married?"
+
+"I've had the marriage service performed over me," she replied,
+"thirty-seven times in four years."
+
+Miss Matilda threw up her hands in an access of horror.
+
+"But your husbands--" stammered his Lordship.
+
+"I never had but one husband," she said. "And here he stands." And she
+took Spotts's hand in hers.
+
+"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the Bishop. "You surely haven't married him
+thirty-seven times?"
+
+"Yes, that is exactly the case," she returned.
+
+"But I don't understand."
+
+"The explanation is very simple," she replied. "My husband and I are
+both actors. He plays the part of the hero, and I the part of the
+heroine. In the fifth act, after many struggles and disappointments,
+we're at last united. To have the marriage ceremony actually performed
+on the stage, or the next day at church, has always proved a great
+attraction to our audiences. At first I objected. But I've been informed
+by a competent authority in my own country that there's no canonical
+rule against it, and in remarrying my husband I merely renew my vows to
+him, and I've never once gone through the ceremony lightly or
+thoughtlessly. I do not defend the practice, or expect you to approve of
+it, and, now that you know the truth, I shouldn't think of asking you to
+marry us again; but I don't consider that I've done anything of which I
+need be ashamed."
+
+"Dear me!" said the Bishop. "In my ecclesiastical position I can hardly
+approve of the course you've taken; but as a man--well, it's a great
+relief to me."
+
+"I consider it a sacrilege," exclaimed Miss Matilda, "and, as I remarked
+to Cecil this morning, that young person leaves the palace to-day, or I
+do!"
+
+"You'll naturally act as seems to you best," said her brother. "But I
+beg you to remember that I'm master of this house, and that this lady is
+my guest."
+
+"And who, pray, will keep your house for you when I'm gone?" she
+snapped.
+
+"I'm sure that Mrs. Spotts will attend to it for me until Mrs.
+Mackintosh and I are married."
+
+"Till you're married!" his sister repeated after him, too astounded to
+grasp fully the meaning of his words.
+
+"It is an event which I hope will occur shortly," her brother replied.
+
+"That's enough!" she retorted. "I leave Blanford this afternoon!"
+
+"I trust you'll not go in anger, Matilda," he said. "I'm sure a change
+will do you good. Miss Arminster--I mean Mrs. Spotts--suggests a course
+of mud-baths; and if you'll permit me to assume the expense--"
+
+"Josephus!" she returned shortly, "do not add insult to injury." And she
+swept from the room.
+
+"I, too," said Professor Tybalt Smith, who had hitherto remained
+silent--"I, too, must be permitted to excuse myself. It may be that I
+can comfort that injured lady in her exile." And he followed her out.
+
+"Oh, I'm delighted!" cried Violet, seizing Mrs. Mackintosh's hand.
+
+"And I, too," said Cecil.
+
+"Thank you," replied his stepmother-to-be. "That pleases me more than
+anything else. I hope you'll really make Blanford your home."
+
+"I shall indeed," he returned, "since no one will have me as a husband."
+
+"You've the great success of your book to comfort you," suggested
+Violet. "What more can you ask?"
+
+"Well, as it seems a day of explanations," he said, "I should really
+like to know why you're called 'the Leopard'?"
+
+"It's a very trifling secret after all," she replied, laughing. "But to
+have let you know it would have given away our little plot. Now it
+doesn't matter. Tell him, Alvy."
+
+"It's merely this," said her husband gaily: "that, as much as she may
+marry, HIS LORDSHIP'S LEOPARD CAN NEVER CHANGE HER SPOT(T)S."
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+GODFREY'S THE HARP OF LIFE 12mo. $1.50.
+
+A very human account of certain events in the life of the first violin
+of the Pinecliff (England) orchestra.
+
+     _Boston Transcript_: "She has literary skill, grace, delicacy....
+     Here and there are bits of description sketched in with as much
+     sympathy as truthfulness.... Her artistic sense is very keen. She
+     doesn't introduce a description like this for the mere sake of
+     describing: something, but for the purpose of contrast with a mood
+     or situation, and she never spoils a perspective. Although she is
+     writing a musical novel, she never rhapsodizes.... The
+     characterization is effective throughout.... This masterly tale
+     cannot want for readers, it seems to us."
+
+     _Public Opinion_: "Miss Godfrey writes understandingly of music
+     and the musical temperament."
+
+     _Outlook_: "There are several characters of interest, and the
+     somewhat unusual situations in which they are placed are handled
+     in a clever and novel manner."
+
+     _N. Y. Herald_: "She draws human nature, delights in the
+     opposition of character, and has, in fact, written a first-rate
+     modern novel."
+
+     _Buffalo Commercial Advertiser_: "A thoroughly good, strong, pure
+     story."
+
+
+GODFREY'S POOR HUMAN NATURE
+
+A musical novel. _2d Impression_, 12mo. $1.50.
+
+The story of some Wagnerian singers at the Court Opera of Blankenstadt.
+It has been said that this name thinly veils Dresden, and that the book
+gives an intimate picture of musical life at the Saxon capital.
+
+     _Bookman_: "It is curiously convincing. The characters, too are
+     peculiarly real.... Each and every one stands out with vivid
+     distinction, and is not soon to be forgotten.... The portrayal of
+     local life, particularly that appertaining to operatic circles, is
+     full of freshness and interest.... It is well written, it is nobly
+     felt, it is altogether an admirable work."
+
+     _New York Tribune_: "One of the cleverest musical novels we know,
+     and it is particularly creditable in that it holds nothing of the
+     hysterical gush with which the feminine writer usually fills
+     fiction of this kind.... The study of the group of singers at the
+     Royal Opera in a minor German city is astonishingly well done, and
+     so is the portrait of the great tenor's peasant wife ... so
+     unmistakably true that she must have been drawn from life ... an
+     uncommonly attractive and interesting novel."
+
+     _Boston Transcript_: "We have nothing but praise to say of this
+     fine, strong tale, and can recommend it heartily and without
+     qualification."
+
+     _Literary World_: "There is a distinctly original touch in this
+     story.... Full of interest."
+
+
+
+
+_21st Impression of a Remarkable Romance._
+
+THE GADFLY.
+
+By E. L. VOYNICH. 12mo, cloth. $1.25.
+
+_New York Tribune_: "It is nothing more or less than one of the most
+powerful novels of the decade.... He shows us the veritable conspirator
+of history, who plotted like a human being: and not like an operatic
+bandit.... It is a thrilling book and absolutely sober.... 'The Gadfly'
+is an original and impressive being; ... a story to remember."
+
+_New York Times_: "Paradox worked up with intense dramatic effect is the
+salient feature of 'The Gadfly'; ... shows a wonderfully strong hand,
+and descriptive powers which are rare; ... a very remarkable romance."
+
+_The Dial_: "One of the most interesting phases of the history of
+Nineteenth Century Europe. The story of the Italian revolutionary
+movement; ... is full of such incidents as the novelist most desires;
+... this novel is one of the strongest of the year, vivid in conception,
+and dramatic in execution, filled with intense human feeling, and worked
+up to a tremendously impressive climax."
+
+_The Critic_: "An historical novel permeated with a deep religious
+interest in which from first to last the story is dominant and
+absorbing.... 'The Gadfly' is a figure to live in the imagination."
+
+_The New York Herald_: "An exceptionally clever story, eminently fresh
+and original. The author has a capital story to tell, and he tells it
+consummately well.... The beaten track has not allured him, and the
+characters to whom he introduces us are not such as we meet in every-day
+novels. This is the crowning merit of this book."
+
+_The Chap Book_: "Gives the reading public an opportunity to welcome a
+new and intense writer; ... a profound psychological study; ... a
+powerful climax. Yet, however much the imagination be used, the author
+will be found to rise beyond it; the scene at High Mass on the feast of
+Corpus Christi being one of the most powerful in English fiction."
+
+_The Independent_: "We have read this peculiar romance with breathless
+interest; ... a romance of revolutionary experiences in Italy; lifelike,
+stirring, picturesque, a story of passion, sacrifice, and tragic
+energy."
+
+_The Literary World_: "A powerful and picturesque story--a canvas
+glowing with color and life--the few striking characters stand out in
+firm, resolute outlines. We heartily commend 'The Gadfly.'"
+
+_The Buffalo Commercial_: "In every way sharp, thrilling, entertaining."
+
+_The Chicago Post_: "A powerful story, and, unlike others of its kind,
+holds the reader's attention strictly to the end."
+
+_The Chicago Times-Herald_: "'The Gadfly' is a tremendous story. It goes
+on like a whirlwind, gathering force as it rushes."
+
+
+BARROW'S THE FORTUNE OF WAR A novel of the last year of the American
+Revolution. 12mo. $1.25.
+
+     The scene is laid mainly in New York City during the British
+     occupation, partly on one of the prison ships, and partly in the
+     patriot camp at Morristown. The life in the headquarters of the
+     two armies is cleverly contrasted. The story has a strong "love
+     interest."
+
+     _N. Y. Times Saturday Review_: "The story is a good one, the
+     historical data accurate, and the ways and manners of the period
+     are cleverly presented."
+
+     _The Outlook_: "Miss Elizabeth Barrow has done her work, not only
+     well, but delightfully well."
+
+     _Chicago Times-Herald_: "Another tale of the time of Washington,
+     but one that is more deserving both of popular and critical
+     appreciation than some of the much-vaunted financial successes."
+
+     _Springfield Republican_: "It gives a good picture of New York
+     City as it was in the eighteenth century.... The story is
+     agreeable reading."
+
+     _Hartford Courant_: "She has done good work in her romance; ... it
+     is told in a very attractive way.... The book is decidedly one
+     that will entertain."
+
+
+GODFREY'S THE HARP OF LIFE
+
+     Uniform with the author's "Poor Human Nature." 12mo. $1.50.
+
+     An intensely human story of an episode in the life of the first
+     violin of an orchestra, at an English watering-place. Miss Godfrey
+     has again been uncommonly happy in creating a "musical
+     atmosphere."
+
+
+LUCAS'S THE OPEN ROAD
+
+     A little book for wayfarers, bicycle-wise and otherwise. Compiled
+     by E. V. LUCAS, editor of "A Book of Verses for Children." With
+     illustrated cover-linings. Green and gold flexible covers. 12mo.
+     $1.50.
+
+     Some 125 poems of out-door life and 25 prose passages,
+     representing over 60 authors, including Fitzgerald, Shelley,
+     Shakespeare, Kenneth Grahame, Stevenson, Whitman, Bliss Carman,
+     Browning, William Watson, Alice Meynel, Keats, Wordsworth, Matthew
+     Arnold, Tennyson, William Morris, Maurice Hewlett, Izaak Walton,
+     Wm. Barnes, Herrick, Gervase Markham, Dobson, Lamb, Milton,
+     Whittier, etc.
+
+
+"_Better than the 'Prisoner of Zenda.'_"--CRITIC
+
+
+10th Impression of the Sequel to
+
+"The Prisoner of Zenda"
+
+
+HOPE'S RUPERT OF HENTZAU
+
+     From the memoirs of Fritz von Tarlenheim. With eight full-page
+     illustrations by CHARLES DANA GIBSON, 12mo, $1.50.
+
+     _A. Dithmar in New York Times' Saturday Review_: "Delightfully
+     stirring and irresponsible, ... a sequel ... for a wonder as
+     vigorous and powerful as its original.... It seems to bring
+     romance to life again."
+
+     _Life_: "A sequel to 'Zenda' which does not let down one bit the
+     high standard of chivalrous love which was the charm of that
+     romance.... Mr. Hope's heroes are never dull.... These 'Zenda'
+     stories have added a distinctly modern value to what men and women
+     mean by the 'sense of honor.'... The closing chapters are simply
+     written, elevated in sentiment, and an ideal solution of the fate
+     of _Flavia_ and _Rudolf_."
+
+     _Geo. W. Smalloy in New York Herald_: "A story which lays a spell
+     upon you. The animation is unceasing, and so, therefore, is the
+     interest.... Mr. Hope has not lost his old deftness in
+     dialogue.... The scene between the two men [Sapt and James] after
+     the murder ... is a masterpiece."
+
+     _New York Tribune_: "Everything moves swiftly and naturally to the
+     climax, upon which, we may add, Mr. Hope has wreaked himself with
+     a tact that is perhaps the best thing in the book.... It is
+     absorbing, and especially is it an excellent sequel, which is more
+     than can be said of most books of its kind."
+
+     _Springfield Republican_: "It is a question whether it does not
+     rival 'The Prisoner of Zenda' itself in excellence.... It strikes
+     a stronger and deeper note."
+
+     _Brooklyn Eagle_: "Has the ring of genuine humanity and true
+     romance."
+
+     _Chicago Tribune_: "Considered as a sequel, the book is
+     surprisingly good. It retains the spirit of 'Zenda,' is fertile in
+     invention, swift in movement, and is of a thrilling and absorbing
+     nature."
+
+
+6th Impression of the New Edition of
+
+HOPE'S PRISONER OF ZENDA
+
+     With five full-page illustrations by CHARLES DANA GIBSON, and a
+     view and plan of the castle by HOWARD INCE. 12mo, $1.50.
+
+
+OTHER BOOKS BY ANTHONY HOPE
+
+     With frontispieces by RACKHAM, RUSSELL, and WECHSLER. 18mo, 75
+     cents each.
+
+  INDISCRETION OF THE DUCHESS, _12th Impression_.
+  THE DOLLY DIALOGUES, _10th Impression_.
+  A CHANGE OF AIR, _9th Impression_.
+  A MAN OF MARK, _9th Impression_.
+  SPORT ROYAL, ETC., _4th Impression_.
+
+
+  "Tense with sustained power."
+  --_New York Commercial Advertiser_.
+
+
+FOLLY CORNER
+
+BY MRS. HENRY DUDENEY
+
+12mo. $1.25.
+
+A novel of love against reason in conflict with love conformable to
+reason, worked out with all the power of the author's former novel, "The
+Maternity of Harriot Wicken," but much more inviting in subject,
+characters, and treatment. A distinct advance on that able work and full
+of promise for the future of this rising author. Scene, Sussex to-day.
+
+_N. Y. Commercial Advertiser_: "It shows the same deep insight into the
+complications of the human soul [as did the author's earlier novel]....
+This story from the opening page is tense with sustained power and is
+surely destined to be one of the most important contributions to this
+season's fiction."
+
+_N. Y. Mail and Express_: "These pictures have the true color, alive
+with the activity of nature or soothing in its quietude. They form a
+distinct feature of the book, beautify its pages and make them
+notable.... It has the elements in it of a wider popularity [than that
+of the author's earlier novel], which it deserves in every sense."
+
+_Buffalo Commercial_: "We find just the same originality in plot, skill
+in character depiction, and the effective presentation of events [which
+characterized 'The Maternity of Harriot Wicken'].... In the story we see
+so artistic a description of the play of character, the various phases
+of human goodness and badness are so well drawn out, that the book
+deserves high praise.... The description of the life of Folly Corner,
+and the men and women seen there, is not surpassed by any work of any
+contemporary novelist. The book is a notable one every way."
+
+_The Academy, London_: "Really interesting; ... the writing is generally
+vigorous and even brilliant. The comedy is first rate.... It is in fact
+a successful novel."
+
+
+"One of the most captivating works of fiction that it has been our good
+fortune to read."--_Dial_.
+
+
+GOD'S PRISONER
+
+By JOHN OXENHAM. 12mo, $1.25.
+
+A story of adventure in England and the Southern Seas.
+
+_Dial_: "A series of the most romantic and startling experiences. The
+author's invention is unflaggingly brilliant, and his narrative manner
+both direct and forcible.... The reader bent upon excitement alone, and
+the reader who delights in the better qualities of romance--in literary
+form and psychological portrayal--will alike find their account in a
+book which we counsel them not to miss."
+
+_Book Buyer_: "It is not likely that any story bristles more with
+ingenious surprises.... If the reader should leave off in the middle,
+there is no doubt that he would be sorely perplexed; but it is safe to
+say that he will never have the fortitude to leave off in the middle."
+
+_New York Commercial Advertiser_: "A very intense sort of book.... Many
+thrilling scenes and strong delineations of emotion."
+
+_New York Times_: "A romance of adventure carried out to its ultimate
+degree."
+
+_New York Tribune_: "By a daring abuse of coincidence the climax is made
+positively amazing.... The tale of his wanderings is well invented and
+diverting.... 'God's Prisoner' is unnatural in its tone, but it is not
+dull."
+
+_New York Herald_: "Very entertaining reading."
+
+_Literary World_: "So much of the interest depends on the surprises in
+the plot, that we will not even give an outline of the story, but only
+say that it holds several absorbing situations."
+
+_Public Opinion_: "A good story.... The mystery and agony preceding the
+discovery is drawn in just the right shades. There was danger of
+overdoing it, but the author was not to be entrapped.... There are
+surprises to the end."
+
+_Chicago Times-Herald_: "There is such power of analysis, of
+description, and of imagination, that one feels sure that he has to deal
+here with the ebullition of an uncommon mind."
+
+_Saturday Review_ (London): "He tells his tale in so brisk and plausible
+a fashion that belief comes easily."
+
+_Graphic_ (London): "Has stronger motive for a novel of romantic and
+sensational adventure than is at all usual, and to the very great
+advantage of an otherwise exciting and well-constructed story."
+
+
+HENRY HOLT & CO.
+29 West 23rd Street
+New York
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's His Lordship's Leopard, by David Dwight Wells
+
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+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of His Lordship's Leopard, by David Dwight Wells.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
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+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of His Lordship's Leopard, by David Dwight Wells
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: His Lordship's Leopard
+       A Truthful Narration of Some Impossible Facts
+
+Author: David Dwight Wells
+
+Release Date: January 6, 2010 [EBook #30873]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HIS LORDSHIP'S LEOPARD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced from
+scanned images of public domain material from the Google
+Print project.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<h2>HER LADYSHIP'S ELEPHANT</h2>
+
+<p class="center">By <span class="smcap">David Dwight Wells</span>. With cover by <span class="smcap">Wm. Nicholson</span>, 10th Impression.
+12mo. $1.25.</p>
+
+<p>A very humorous story, dealing with English society, growing out of
+certain experiences of the author while a member of our Embassy in
+London. The elephant's experiences, also, are based on facts.</p>
+
+<p><i>The Nation</i>: "He is probably funny because he cannot help it.... Again
+and again excites spontaneous laughter, is such a boon that its author
+must consent to be regarded as a benefactor of his kind without
+responsibility."</p>
+
+<p><i>New York Tribune</i>: "Mr. Wells allows his sense of humor to play about
+the personalities of half a dozen men and women whose lives, for a few
+brief, extraordinary days, are inextricably intertwined with the life of
+the aforesaid monarch of the jungle.... Smacks of fun which can be
+created by clever actors placed in excruciatingly droll situations."</p>
+
+<p><i>Philadelphia Times</i>: "As breezy a bit of fiction as the reading public
+has lately been offered. Amusing from the first page to the last, unique
+in conception, and absolutely uproarious in plot."</p>
+
+<p><i>New York Commercial Advertiser</i>: "A really delicious chain of
+absurdities which are based upon American independence and impudence;
+... exceedingly amusing."</p>
+
+<p><i>Outlook</i>: "Full of amusing situations."</p>
+
+<p><i>Buffalo Express</i>: "So amusing is the book that the reader is almost too
+tired to laugh when the elephant puts in his appearance."</p>
+
+<h3>HENRY HOLT &amp; CO.</h3>
+
+<h3>New York.</h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h1>HIS LORDSHIP'S LEOPARD</h1>
+
+<h2><i>A TRUTHFUL NARRATION OF</i></h2>
+
+<h2><i>SOME IMPOSSIBLE FACTS</i></h2>
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+
+<h3>DAVID DWIGHT WELLS</h3>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Author of "Her Ladyship's Elephant"</i></p>
+
+<h4>NEW YORK</h4>
+
+<h4>HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY</h4>
+
+<h4>1900</h4>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h4>Copyright, 1900,</h4>
+
+<h4>BY</h4>
+
+<h4>HENRY HOLT &amp; CO.</h4>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>WARNING!</h2>
+
+<p>The ensuing work is a serious attempt to while away an idle hour. The
+best criticism that the author received of "Her Ladyship's Elephant" was
+from an old lady who wrote him that it had made her forget a toothache;
+the most discouraging, from a critic who approached the book as <i>serious
+literature</i> and treated it according to the standards of <i>the higher
+criticism</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The author takes this occasion to state that he has never been guilty of
+writing literature, serious or otherwise, and that if any one considers
+this book a fit subject for the application of the higher criticism, he
+will treat it as a just ground for an action for libel.</p>
+
+<p>If the <i>minimum opus</i> possesses an intrinsic value, it lies in the
+explanation of the whereabouts of a Spanish gunboat, which, during our
+late unpleasantness with Spain, the yellow journalists insisted was
+patrolling the English Channel, in spite of the fact that the U.&nbsp;S.
+Board of Strategy knew that every available ship belonging to that
+nation was better employed somewhere else.</p>
+
+<p>Should this <i>expos&eacute;</i> ruffle another English see, so much the worse for
+the Bishop.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'> </td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'><a href="#PART_I"><b>PART I. <i>AMERICA</i>.</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'> </td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I. <span class="smcap">In which Cecil Banborough Achieves Fame, and the "Daily Leader" a "Scoop"</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II. <span class="smcap">In which Cecil Banborough Attempts to Drive Public Opinion</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III. <span class="smcap">In which Cecil Banborough Drives a Black Maria</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV. <span class="smcap">In which the Black Maria Receives a New Inmate</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V. <span class="smcap">In which the Party Receives a New Impetus</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI. <span class="smcap">In which the Bishop of Blanford Receives a Black Eye</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII. <span class="smcap">In which a Line is Drawn and Crossed</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII. <span class="smcap">In which a Locket is Accepted and a Ring Refused</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'> </td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'><a href="#PART_II"><b>PART II. <i>ENGLAND</i>.</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'> </td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER I. <span class="smcap">In which Mrs. Mackintosh Admires Jonah</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER II. <span class="smcap">In which the Enemy Arrives</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER III. <span class="smcap">In which Peace is Proposed and War Declared</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER IV. <span class="smcap">In which the Bishop is Abducted</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER V. <span class="smcap">In which the Bishop Eats Jam Tart, and Miss Matilda Humble-pie</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER VI. <span class="smcap">In which Miss Arminster Proposes to Marry Again</span></b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER VII. <span class="smcap">In which Miss Arminster Verifies the Proverb</span></b></a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="PART_I" id="PART_I"></a>PART I.</h2>
+
+<h2><i>AMERICA</i>.</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH ACHIEVES FAME AND THE "DAILY LEADER" A
+"SCOOP."</h3>
+
+<p>Cecil Banborough stood at one of the front windows of a club which faced
+on Fifth Avenue, his hands in his pockets, and a cigarette in his mouth,
+idly watching the varied life of the great thoroughfare. He had returned
+to the city that morning after a two weeks' absence in the South, and,
+having finished his lunch, was wondering how he could manage to put in
+the time till the 4:30 express left for Meadowbrook. 2 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>, he
+reflected ruefully, was an hour when New York had no use and no
+resources for men of leisure like himself.</p>
+
+<p>Yet even for a mere onlooker the panorama of the street was of unusual
+interest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> The avenue was ablaze with bunting, which hurrying thousands
+pointed out to their companions, while every street-corner had its
+little group of citizens, discussing with feverish energy and gestures
+of ill-concealed disquietude the situation of which the gay flags were
+the outward and visible sign. For in these latter days of April, 1898, a
+first-class Republic had, from purely philanthropic motives, announced
+its intention of licking a third-rate Monarchy into the way it should
+go. Whereat the good citizens had flung broadcast their national emblem
+to express a patriotic enthusiasm they did not feel, while the wiser
+heads among them were already whispering that the war was not merely
+unjustifiable, but might be expensive.</p>
+
+<p>All these matters, important as they doubtless were, did not interest
+Cecil Banborough, and indeed were quite dwarfed by the fact that this
+uncalled-for war had diverted the press from its natural functions, and
+for the time being had thrown utterly into the shade his new sensational
+novel, "The Purple Kangaroo."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> His meditations were, however,
+interrupted by the sound of voices using perfectly good English, but
+with an accent which bespoke a European parentage.</p>
+
+<p>"'The Purple Kangaroo,'" said one. "It is sufficiently striking&mdash;<i>Si,
+Se&ntilde;or</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"It serves the purpose well, <i>mi amigo</i>," replied the other. "It is, as
+you say, striking; indeed nothing better could be devised; while its
+reputation&mdash;" And the voices died away.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil swung rapidly round. Two gentlemen, slight, swarthy, and evidently
+of a Latin race, were moving slowly down the long drawing-room. They
+were foreigners certainly, Spaniards possibly, but they had spoken of
+his book in no modified terms of praise. He drew a little sigh of
+satisfied contentment and turned again to the street. Ah, if his father,
+the Bishop of Blanford, could have heard!</p>
+
+<p>The two foreigners had meanwhile continued their conversation, though
+out of earshot. The elder was speaking.</p>
+
+<p>"As you say, its reputation is so slight," he said, "one of those
+ephemeral productions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> that are forgotten in a day, that it will serve
+our purpose well. We must have a password&mdash;the less noticeable the
+better. When do you return to Washington?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Legation may be closed at any moment now," replied the younger,
+seating himself carelessly on the arm of a Morris chair, "and I may be
+wanted. I go this afternoon, <i>a dios y a ventura</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Softly; not so loud."</p>
+
+<p>"There's no one to hear. Keep us informed, I say. I'll see to the rest.
+We've our secret lines of communication nearly complete. They may turn
+us out of their capital, but&mdash;we shall know what passes. <i>Carramba!</i>
+What is that?" For, in leaning back, the speaker had come against an
+unresisting body.</p>
+
+<p>Springing up and turning quickly round, he saw that the chair on the arm
+of which he had been sitting was already occupied by the slumbering form
+of a youngish man with clear-cut features and a voluminous golden
+moustache.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"<i>Madre de Dios!</i> Could he have heard?" exclaimed the younger man,
+moving away.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Malhaya!</i> No!" replied the other. "These pigs of Americanos who sleep
+at noonday hear nothing! Come!" And, casting a glance of concentrated
+contempt at the huddled-up figure, he put his arm through that of his
+companion, and together they left the room.</p>
+
+<p>A moment later the sleeper sat up, flicked a speck of dust off his
+coat-sleeve, and, diving into a pocket, produced a note-book and blue
+pencil and began to write rapidly. Evidently his occupation was a
+pleasant one, for a broad smile illumined his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Marchmont," said Banborough, coming towards him, "didn't know you'd
+waked up."</p>
+
+<p>"Was I asleep?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rather. Don't suppose you saw those Spanish Dons who went out just
+now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Spaniards?" queried Marchmont, with a preoccupied air. "What about
+'em?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nothing in particular, only I supposed that a Spaniard to a yellow
+journalist was like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> a red rag to a bull. You should make them into
+copy&mdash;'Conspiracy in a Fifth Avenue Club,' etc."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks," said the other, "so I might. Valuable suggestion." And he
+returned his note-book to his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"They did me a good turn, anyway," resumed Banborough. "They were
+talking about my book&mdash;thought it would serve its purpose, was very
+striking, said nothing better could be devised; and they were
+foreigners, too. I tell you what it is, Marchmont, the public will wake
+up to the merits of 'The Purple Kangaroo' some day. Why doesn't the
+<i>Daily Leader</i> notice it?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Cecil, give me the space and I'll write a critique the fulsome
+flattery of which will come up to even your exacting demands. But just
+at present we're so busy arousing popular enthusiasm that we really
+haven't time."</p>
+
+<p>"You never do have time," replied Banborough, a trifle petulantly,
+"except for sleeping after lunch."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that's all in the day's work. But tell me. You're an Englishman;
+why didn't you publish your book in your own country?"</p>
+
+<p>"I may be green, but I don't impart confidences to an American
+journalist."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense! I never betray my friends' confidences when it's not worth&mdash;I
+should say, out of business hours."</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if you don't think it worth while," he said, "I suppose there's no
+danger, so I'll confess that my literary exile is purely to oblige my
+father."</p>
+
+<p>"The Bishop of Blanford?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Bishop of Blanford, who has the bad taste to disapprove of 'The
+Purple Kangaroo.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Has he ever read it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not; the ecclesiastical mind is nothing if not dogmatic."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear fellow, I was only trying to assign a reason."</p>
+
+<p>"Chaff away, but it's principally my Aunt Matilda."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The Bishop, I remember, is a widower."</p>
+
+<p>"Rather. My aunt keeps house for him."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, these aunts!" exclaimed the journalist. "They make no end of
+trouble&mdash;and copy."</p>
+
+<p>"It's not so bad as that," said Cecil; "but she rules the governor with
+a rod of iron, and she kicked up such a row about my book that I dropped
+the whole show."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't correspond with 'em?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not on my side. I receive occasional sermons from Blanford."</p>
+
+<p>"Which remain unanswered?"</p>
+
+<p>Cecil nodded, and changed the subject.</p>
+
+<p>"You know my father's cathedral?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. The verger prevented my chipping off a bit of the high altar
+as a memento the last time I was over. You English are so beastly
+conservative. Not that the Bishop had anything to do with it."</p>
+
+<p>Banborough laughed, and returned to the charge.</p>
+
+<p>"So I came abroad," he continued, "and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> approached the most respectable
+and conservative firm of publishers I could find in New York."</p>
+
+<p>"Was that out of consideration for the Bishop?"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought it might sweeten the pill. But somehow the book doesn't
+sell."</p>
+
+<p>"Advertising, my boy&mdash;that's the word."</p>
+
+<p>"The traditions of the firm forbid it," objected Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"Traditions! What's any country less than a thousand years old got to do
+with traditions?" spluttered Marchmont. "I knew a Chicago author who got
+a divorce every time he produced a new novel. They sold like hot cakes."</p>
+
+<p>"And the wives?"</p>
+
+<p>"Received ten per cent. of the profits as alimony."</p>
+
+<p>"Talk sense, and say something scandalous about me in the <i>Leader</i>. What
+possessed you, anyway, to join such a disgraceful sheet?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If I'd an entailed estate and an hereditary bishopric, I wouldn't. As
+it is, it pays."</p>
+
+<p>"The bishopric isn't hereditary," said Cecil. "I wish it were. Then I
+might have a chance of spending my life in the odour of sanctity and
+idleness, and the entail is&mdash;a dream."</p>
+
+<p>"So you write novels," retorted Marchmont, "that are neither indecent
+nor political, and expect 'em to succeed. Callow youth! Well, I must be
+off to the office. I've some copy up my sleeve, and if it's a go it'll
+give your book the biggest boom a novel ever had."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you speaking the truth?" said the Englishman. "I beg your pardon. I
+forgot it was out of professional hours."</p>
+
+<p>"Wait and see," replied the journalist, as he strolled out of the club.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"Hi, Marchmont, I've got a detail for you!" called the editor, making
+the last correction on a belated form and attempting to revivify a cigar
+that had long gone out.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes?" queried Marchmont, slipping off his coat and slipping on a pair
+of straw cuffs, which was the chief reason why he always sported
+immaculate linen.</p>
+
+<p>"We're on the track of a big thing. Perhaps you don't know that the
+President has delivered an ultimatum, and that our Minister at Madrid
+has received his passports?"</p>
+
+<p>"Saw it on the bulletin-board as I came in," said his subordinate
+laconically.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's a foregone conclusion that the Spanish Legation will
+establish a secret service in this country, and the paper that shows it
+up will achieve the biggest scoop on record."</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally. But what then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I give the detail to you. You don't seem to appreciate the
+situation, man. It's the chance of a lifetime."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so," replied Marchmont, lighting a cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>"But you can't lose a minute."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I can&mdash;two or three. Time for a smoke, and then I'll write you
+a first-column<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> article that'll call for the biggest caps you have in
+stock."</p>
+
+<p>"But I&mdash; What the&mdash; Say, you know something!"</p>
+
+<p>"I know that the secret service has been organised, I know the
+organisers, and I know the password."</p>
+
+<p>Here Marchmont's chief became unquotable, lapsing into unlimited
+profanity from sheer joy and exultation.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll give you a rise if you pull this off!" he exclaimed, after hearing
+the recital of the events at the club. "May I be"&mdash;several things&mdash;"if I
+don't! Now what are you going to do about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose we inform the nearest police station, have the crowd arrested,
+and take all the glory ourselves."</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose we shut up shop and take a holiday," suggested the chief, with
+a wealth of scorn.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what have you to propose?"</p>
+
+<p>"We must work the whole thing through our detective agency."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But we haven't a detective agency," objected Marchmont.</p>
+
+<p>"But we will have before sunset," said the chief. "There's O'Brien&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Chucked from Pinkerton's force for habitual drunkenness,"
+interjected his subordinate.</p>
+
+<p>"Just so," said the editor, "and anxious to get a job in consequence.
+He'll be only too glad to run the whole show for us. The city shall be
+watched, and the first time 'The Purple Kangaroo' is used in a
+suspicious sense we'll arrest the offenders, discover the plot, and the
+<i>Daily Leader</i>, as the defender of the nation and the people's bulwark,
+will increase its circulation a hundred thousand copies! It makes me
+dizzy to think of it! I tell you what it is, Marchmont, that
+subeditorship is still vacant, and if you put this through, the place is
+yours."</p>
+
+<p>The reporter grasped his chief's hand.</p>
+
+<p>"That's white of you, boss," he said, "and I'll do it no matter what it
+costs or who gets hurt in the process."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Right you are!" cried his employer. "The man who edits this paper has
+got to hustle. Now don't let the grass grow under your feet, and we'll
+have a drink to celebrate."</p>
+
+<p>When the chief offers to set up a <i>sub</i> it means business, and Marchmont
+was elated accordingly.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>At the Club the Bishop's son still contemplated the Avenue from the
+vantage-point of the most comfortable armchair the room possessed.
+Praise, he reflected, which was not intended for the author's ear was
+praise indeed. No man could tell to what it might lead. No one indeed,
+Cecil Banborough least of all, though he was destined to find out before
+he was many hours older; for down in the editorial sanctum of the <i>Daily
+Leader</i> O'Brien was being instructed:</p>
+
+<p>"And if you touch a drop during the next week," reiterated the chief,
+"I'll put a head on you!"</p>
+
+<p>"But supposin' this dago conspiracy should turn out to be a fake?"
+objected the Irishman.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Then," said the reporter with determination, "you'll have to hatch one
+yourself, and I'll discover it. But two things are certain. Something's
+got to be exposed, and I've got to get that editorship."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH ATTEMPTS TO DRIVE PUBLIC OPINION.</h3>
+
+<p>It is a trifle chilly in the early morning, even by the first of May,
+and Cecil shivered slightly as he paced the rustic platform at
+Meadowbrook with his publisher and host of the night before.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," the great man was saying, "there's an etiquette about all
+these things. We can't advertise our publications in the elevated trains
+like tomato catsup or the latest thing in corsets. It's not dignified.
+The book must succeed, if at all, through the recognised channels of
+criticism and on its own merits. Of course it's a bad season. But once
+the war's well under way, people will give up newspapers and return to
+literature."</p>
+
+<p>"Meantime it wants a boom," contended<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> the young Englishman, with an
+insistence that apparently jarred on his hearer, who answered shortly:</p>
+
+<p>"And that, Mr. Banborough, it is not in my power to give your book, or
+any other man's."</p>
+
+<p>There was an element of finality about this remark which seemed to
+preclude further conversation, and Cecil took refuge in the morning
+paper till the train pulled into the Grand Central Station, when the two
+men shook hands and parted hurriedly, the host on his daily rush to the
+office, the guest to saunter slowly up the long platform, turning over
+in his mind the problems suggested by his recent conversation.</p>
+
+<p>The busy life of the great terminus grated upon him, and that is perhaps
+the reason why his eye rested with a sense of relief on a little group
+of people who, like himself, seemed to have nothing particular to do.
+They were six in number, two ladies and four gentlemen, and stood
+quietly discussing some interesting problem, apparently unconscious of
+the hurrying crowds which were surging about them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Cecil approached them slowly, and was about to pass on when his
+attention and footsteps were suddenly arrested by hearing the younger of
+the two ladies remark in a plaintive voice:</p>
+
+<p>"But that doesn't help us to get any breakfast, Alvy."</p>
+
+<p>"No, or dinner either," added the elder lady.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," rejoined the gentleman addressed as "Alvy," who, in contrast to
+the frock coats and smart tailor-made gowns of his three companions,
+wore an outing suit, a short overcoat of box-cloth, a light, soft hat,
+and a rather pronounced four-in-hand tie. "Well, I'm hungry myself, as
+far as that goes."</p>
+
+<p>Banborough was astonished. These fashionably dressed people in need of a
+meal? Impossible! And yet&mdash;he turned to look at them again. No, they
+were not quite gentlefolk. There was <i>something</i>&mdash; He stumbled and
+nearly fell over a dress-suit case, evidently belonging to one of the
+party, and marked in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> large letters, "H. Tybalt Smith. A.&nbsp;B.&nbsp;C.
+Company."</p>
+
+<p>Actors, of course. That explained the situation&mdash;and the clothes.
+Another company gone to pieces, and its members landed penniless and in
+their costumes. It was too bad, and the young woman was so very
+good-looking. If only he had some legitimate excuse for going to their
+assistance.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he stood motionless, petrified. An idea had occurred to him,
+the boldness and originality of which fairly took his breath away. "The
+Purple Kangaroo" wanted advertising, and his publishers refused to help
+him. Well, why should he not advertise it himself? To think was to act.
+Already the company were starting in a listless, dispirited way towards
+the door. The Englishman summoned all his resolution to his aid, and,
+overcoming his insular reticence, approached the leader of the party,
+asking if he were Mr. Smith.</p>
+
+<p>"H. Tybalt Smith, at your service, sir," replied that portly and
+imposing individual.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Cecil Banborough bowed low.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you'll not think me intrusive," he said, "but I judge that
+you're not now engaged, and as I'm at present in want of the services of
+a first-class theatrical company, I ventured to address you."</p>
+
+<p>"The manager skipped last evening," remarked the man in mufti.</p>
+
+<p>"Alvy," corrected Mr. Smith, "I will conduct these negotiations. As Mr.
+Spotts says, sir," he continued, indicating the last speaker, "with a
+colloquialism that is his distinguishing characteristic, our manager is
+not forthcoming, and&mdash;a&mdash;er&mdash;temporary embarrassment has resulted, so
+that we should gladly accept the engagement you offer, provided it is
+not inconsistent with the demands of art."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, cut it short, Tyb," again interrupted the ingenuous Spotts.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Smith cast a crushing glance at the youth, and, laying one hand
+across his ample chest, prepared to launch a withering denunciation at
+him, when Cecil came to the rescue.</p>
+
+<p>"I was about to suggest," he said, "that if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> you've not yet breakfasted
+you would all do so with me, and we can then discuss this matter at
+length."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Smith's denunciation died upon his lips, and a smile of ineffable
+contentment lighted up his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir," he said, "we are obliged&mdash;vastly obliged. I speak collectively."
+And he waved one flabby hand towards his companions. "I have not,
+however, the honour of knowing your name."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil handed him his card.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, thanks. Mr. Banborough. Exactly. Permit me to introduce myself: H.
+Tybalt Smith, Esq., tragedian of the A.&nbsp;B.&nbsp;C. Company. My companions are
+Mr. Kerrington, the heavy villain; Mr. Mill, the leading serious. Our
+juvenile, Mr. G. Alvarado Spotts, has already sufficiently introduced
+himself. The ladies are Mrs. Mackintosh, our senior legitimate,"
+indicating the elder of the two, who smilingly acknowledged the
+introduction in such a good-natured, hearty manner that for the moment
+her plain, almost rugged New<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> England countenance was lighted up and she
+became nearly handsome. "And," continued Mr. Smith, "our leading lady,
+the Leopard&mdash; I mean Miss Violet Arminster," pointing to the bewitching
+young person in the tailor-made gown.</p>
+
+<p>Each of the members bowed as his or her name was spoken, and the
+tragedian continued:</p>
+
+<p>"Ladies and gentlemen of the A.&nbsp;B.&nbsp;C. Company, I have much pleasure in
+introducing to you&mdash;my friend&mdash;Mr. Cecil Banborough, who has kindly
+invited you to breakfast at&mdash;the Murray Hill? Shall we say the Murray
+Hill? Yes."</p>
+
+<p>The ensuing hour having been given up to the serious pursuit of
+satisfying healthy appetites, the members of the A.&nbsp;B.&nbsp;C. Company heaved
+sighs of pleasurable repletion, and prepared to listen to their host's
+proposition in a highly optimistic mood. Banborough, who had already
+sufficiently breakfasted, employed the interval of the meal in talking
+to Miss Arminster and in studying his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> guests. Mrs. Mackintosh, who
+seemed to take a motherly interest in the charming Violet, and whose
+honest frankness had appealed to him from the first, appeared to be the
+good genius of the little company. As he came to know her better during
+the next few days, under the sharp spur of adversity, he realised more
+and more how much goodness and strength of character lay hidden under
+the rough exterior and the sharp tongue, and his liking changed into an
+honest admiration. Mr. Smith was ponderous and egotistical to the last
+degree, while Spotts seemed hail-fellow-well-met, the jolliest,
+brightest, most good-looking and resourceful youth that Cecil had met
+for many a long day. The other two men were the most reserved of the
+company, saying little, and devoting themselves to their meal. But it
+was to Miss Arminster that he found himself especially attracted. From
+the first moment that he saw her she had exercised a fascination over
+him, and even his desire for the success of his book gave way to his
+anxiety for her comfort and happiness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> She was by no means difficult to
+approach; they soon were chatting gaily together, and by the time the
+repast was finished were quite on the footing of old friends&mdash;so much
+so, indeed, that Cecil ventured to ask her a question which had been
+uppermost in his mind for some time.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did Mr. Smith call you the Leopard when he introduced you to me at
+the station?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," she answered, laughing, "that's generally the last bit of
+information my friends get about me. It has terminated my acquaintance
+with a lot of gentlemen. Do you think you'd better ask it, just when we
+are beginning to know one another?"</p>
+
+<p>"Are you another Lohengrin," he said, "and will a white swan come and
+carry you off as soon as you've told me?"</p>
+
+<p>"More probably a cable-car," she replied, "seeing we're in New York."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I shall defer the evil day as long as possible," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"You seem to forget," she returned, "that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> I don't know as yet what our
+business relations are to be."</p>
+
+<p>"And you seem to forget," he replied, "that there are still some
+strawberries left on that dish."</p>
+
+<p>She sighed regretfully, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid they must go till next time&mdash;if there's to be a next time."</p>
+
+<p>Banborough vowed to himself that instead of confining the advertisement
+of his book to the city alone, he would extend it to Harlem and
+Brooklyn&mdash;yes, and to all New York State, if need be, rather than forego
+the delight of her society.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't your father an English bishop?" continued Miss Arminster,
+interrupting his reverie.</p>
+
+<p>"Now how on earth did you know that?" exclaimed Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>The little actress laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know a lot of things," she said. "But I was merely going to
+suggest that we call you 'Bishop' for short. Banborough's much too long
+a name for ordinary use. What<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> do you say, boys?" turning to the men of
+the company.</p>
+
+<p>A chorus of acclamation greeted this sally, and to the members of the A.&nbsp;B.&nbsp;C.
+Company Cecil Banborough was 'the Bishop' from that hour.</p>
+
+<p>"And now," said the Englishman, "that you've christened me, suppose we
+come to the business in hand?"</p>
+
+<p>Every one was at once intently silent.</p>
+
+<p>"I am," he continued, "the author of 'The Purple Kangaroo.'"</p>
+
+<p>The silence became deeper. The audience were politely impressed, and the
+heavy villain did a bit of dumb show with the leading serious, which
+only needed to have been a trifle better to have proved convincing.</p>
+
+<p>"Yet," continued the author, "owing to the popular interest in an
+imminent war and a lack of energy on the part of my publishers, the book
+doesn't sell."</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible!" exclaimed Mr. Smith. "Impossible! Why, I was saying only
+the other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> day to Henry Irving, 'Hen,' I said&mdash;I call him 'Hen' for
+short,&mdash;'that book&mdash;'"</p>
+
+<p>"What you say doesn't cut any ice," broke in Spotts. "What were you
+saying, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was about to remark," continued Banborough, "that what the novel
+needs is advertising. For an author to make the round of the shops is so
+old an artifice that any tradesman would see through it."</p>
+
+<p>"It is," interjected the tragedian. "I have more than once demanded the
+lower right-hand box when I was playing the leading r&ocirc;le."</p>
+
+<p>"And always got it," added Spotts. The silence was appalling, and Cecil
+rushed into the breach, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"It's occurred to me, however, that if a number of people, apparently in
+different walks of life, were to call at the various bookshops and
+department stores of the city, demanding copies of 'The Purple
+Kangaroo,' and refusing to be satisfied with excuses, it might create a
+market for the book."</p>
+
+<p>"A first-rate idea!" cried Spotts heartily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But supposing it was in stock?" suggested the more cautious duenna.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall of course see you're provided with funds for such an
+emergency," the author hastened to add; "and if you ladies and gentlemen
+feel that you could canvass the city thoroughly in my interests at&mdash;ten
+dollars a day and car-fares?" he ventured, fearing he had offered too
+little.</p>
+
+<p>"I should rather think we do," said Spotts emphatically. "Ten dollars a
+day and car-fares is downright luxury compared with one-night stands and
+a salary that doesn't get paid. You're a might good fellow, Mr.
+Banborough," continued the young actor, "and Violet and I and the rest
+of the company will do our best to make your book a howling success."
+And as he spoke he laid his hand familiarly on the little actress's
+shoulder, an action which did not altogether please Cecil, and made him
+realise that in the attractive young comedian he had found a strong
+rival for Miss Arminster's favour.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, we'll consider it settled," he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> said; whereat the company
+arose and clasped his hands silently. Their satisfaction was too deep
+for words. Spotts was the first to rouse himself to action.</p>
+
+<p>"Come," he said, "we mustn't lose any time. Your interests are ours now,
+Mr. Banborough, and the sooner we get to work the more thoroughly we'll
+earn our salary," and touching a bell, he said to the answering
+messenger:</p>
+
+<p>"Bring me a New York directory," thereby showing an honest activity
+which was much appreciated by his employer.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later, the company, fully primed, departed joyfully on their
+mission.</p>
+
+<p>Banborough, rich in the comforting sense of a good morning's work well
+accomplished, retired to his club to dream of the success of his book.
+In spirit he visited the book-stalls, noting the growing concern of the
+clerks as they were obliged to turn away customer after customer who
+clamoured for "The Purple Kangaroo.". He saw the hurried consultations
+with the heads of firms, who at length realised<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> their blind stupidity
+in neglecting to stock their shelves with the success of the season. He
+saw the dozens of orders which poured into the publishing house, and
+heard in fancy that sweetest of all announcements that can fall upon an
+author's ears: "My dear sir, we have just achieved another edition."</p>
+
+<p>So dreaming, he was rudely awakened by a slap on the shoulder, and the
+cheerful voice of Marchmont, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"Who's asleep this time?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not I," replied his friend, "only dreaming."</p>
+
+<p>"Of the success of 'The Purple Kangaroo'?" asked the journalist. "Well,
+you'll have it, old man&mdash;see if you don't&mdash;and live to bless the name of
+Marchmont and the <i>Daily Leader</i>. Why, thousands will be reading your
+book before the week's out."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" gasped the Englishman. "Surely you don't know&mdash;?"
+For he feared the discovery of his little plot.</p>
+
+<p>"Know!" replied the journalist. "I know that your book has leaped at one
+bound from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> fiction to the exalted sphere of politics. Now don't you
+breathe a word of this, for it's professional, but the Spanish
+secret-service agents have taken the title of your novel as their
+password. The city is watched by our own special corps of detectives,
+and the instant 'The Purple Kangaroo' is used in a suspicious sense we
+arrest the spies and unravel the plot."</p>
+
+<p>"But, good heavens, man! You don't understand&mdash;" began Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"I understand it all. I tell you the <i>Daily Leader</i> will not shrink from
+its duty. It'll leave no stone unturned to hound the offenders down. I
+dare say they may be making arrests even now, and once started, we'll
+never pause till every Spanish sympathiser who has knowledge of the plot
+is under lock and key."</p>
+
+<p>"Stop! Stop!" cried Cecil. "You don't know what you're doing!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, trust me for that, and think of the boom your book'll get. I'll
+make it my special care. I tell you 'The Purple Kangaroo' will be all
+the rage."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But you're making a ghastly mistake," insisted the author. "You must
+listen to me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Can't!" cried Marchmont, springing up as the sound of shouts and
+clanging bells fell upon his ear. "There's a fire! See you later!" and
+he dashed out of the club and was gone.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil sank back in his chair fairly paralysed.</p>
+
+<p>"Good heavens! Suppose any of the company should be suspected or
+arrested! Supposing&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"A gentleman to see you, sir," said a page at his elbow.</p>
+
+<p>"Show him in!" cried Banborough, fearing the worst, as he read Tybalt
+Smith's name on the card.</p>
+
+<p>There was no need to have given the message. The actor was at the page's
+heels, dishevelled, distraught.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know we're taken for Spanish spies?" he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes; I've just heard&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But they've arrested&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Not one of your companions&mdash;Spotts, Kerrington, or Mill?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said the tragedian, shaking his head, "they've arrested Miss
+Arminster."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH DRIVES A BLACK MARIA.</h3>
+
+<p>Cecil Banborough's feelings can be better imagined than described at the
+announcement of the calamity which had befallen Miss Arminster. The
+winsome ways of the charming Violet had impressed the young man more
+deeply than he knew until he was brought face to face with a realisation
+of the miseries to which his own folly had exposed her.</p>
+
+<p>"Where have they taken her?" he demanded of Smith as soon as his
+consternation could find expression.</p>
+
+<p>"She's at the police station round the corner from here."</p>
+
+<p>"Where did this occur?" asked Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"On Fourteenth Street," replied Smith,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> "Spotts and I met Miss
+Arminster, and she called out as she passed me, 'Don't forget "The
+Purple Kangaroo!"' A minute later the police arrested her, and when the
+crowd heard that she was a Spanish spy, I swear I think they'd have torn
+her in pieces if the officers hadn't put her in a prison van and got her
+away."</p>
+
+<p>The tragedian paused, shivering from his recent agitation, and Cecil,
+seeing his condition, rang for some brandy.</p>
+
+<p>"But what does it all mean?" asked the actor, tossing off his drink.</p>
+
+<p>"I know what it means," cried Banborough, "but there's no time to talk
+now. We've not a moment to lose!" and he rushed downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>Spotts met them at the doorway, and, as they walked rapidly along, the
+young Englishman poured into his companions' ears an account of what he
+had learned from Marchmont of the Spanish plot and the unforeseen use
+which had been made of the title of his book, while the tragedian
+rehearsed again the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> story of Miss Arminster's arrest, of his own
+hair-breadth escape from the clutches of the law, of his prodigies of
+valour in connection with Spotts, whom he had met in his headlong
+flight, and who, it seemed, had prevailed on his more timid companion to
+follow the prisoner in a hansom.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a bad business," admitted Cecil; "but what's to be done?"</p>
+
+<p>"Done!" exclaimed Smith in tragic tones. "Why, rescue the lady instantly
+and leave the city without delay. In the present excited state of the
+public no amount of explanation will avail. We may all be arrested as
+confederates. We must act!"</p>
+
+<p>"You're talking sense for once," said Spotts. "Heroic measures are the
+only ones worth considering, and if you"&mdash;turning to Banborough&mdash;"will
+stand by us, we may come out on top after all."</p>
+
+<p>"You can depend on me to any extent," declared the young author. "I've
+got you into this scrape, and I'll do my best to get you out of it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That's just what I expected of you, Bishop!" exclaimed Spotts, grasping
+his hand. "We can't waste time in talking. You must go and find the
+other members of the company, Tyb, and warn them of their danger. Now
+where can we rendezvous outside the city? Speak quickly, some one!"</p>
+
+<p>"The leading hotel in Yonkers," said Smith.</p>
+
+<p>"Right you are," replied Spotts. "Get there as soon as possible and wait
+for us to turn up. How about funds?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've plenty of ready money with me," volunteered Cecil, "and very
+fortunately a draft to my credit arrived to-day, which I've not yet
+cashed."</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" said Spotts. "We're in luck. Give Tyb fifty."</p>
+
+<p>Banborough whipped out a roll of bills and handed the desired amount to
+the tragedian without demur.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, off you go," cried his brother actor, "and keep your wits about
+you."</p>
+
+<p>Smith nodded and hailed a passing cab.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Come," said Spotts to the author, "we've no time to lose."</p>
+
+<p>"What's your plan?" asked Cecil as they swung round the corner and
+sighted the police station.</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't got any as yet. We'll see how the land lies first. The Black
+Maria's still before the door. That's lucky!"</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough, there it was, looking gloomily like an undertaker's wagon,
+minus the plate glass.</p>
+
+<p>"Must be hot inside," commented the actor, directing a glance at the two
+little grated slits high up in the folding doors at the back, which
+apparently formed the only means of ventilation.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil shuddered as he thought of the discomforts which the girl must be
+enduring, and longed to throw himself upon the vehicle and batter it to
+pieces. But calmer judgment prevailed, and controlling himself he
+approached the police station, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"Let me go first. You might be recognised.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> I'll try and find out where
+she's to be taken."</p>
+
+<p>He accordingly went up to the driver of the Black Maria, who, cap in
+hand, was wiping his perspiring forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"A fine pair of horses that," he said, indicating the mettlesome bays
+attached to the vehicle, which, in spite of their brisk run, were
+tossing their heads and fretting to be off.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they're good enough," was the curt reply. "A trifle fresh, but we
+need that in our business."</p>
+
+<p>"Something interesting on to-day?" queried Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"Who the devil are you, anyway?" asked the driver abruptly. And the
+Englishman, lying boldly, replied:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm the new reporter on the <i>Daily Leader</i>. I was here last week with
+Mr. Marchmont on a burglary case."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the New Rochelle robbery," suggested the driver.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil acquiesced, drawing a quiet sigh of relief that his random shot
+had hit the mark.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said, "that's it. I was introduced round, but I don't remember
+meeting you."</p>
+
+<p>"Might have been the other driver, Jim?"</p>
+
+<p>"Now I come to think of it, it was Jim."</p>
+
+<p>"Jus' so. Well, there's copy for you in this case."</p>
+
+<p>"So I imagined. It's your first political arrest, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's where the hitch comes in," said the man. "I don't know where to
+deliver the prisoner. When the court's made up its mind they'll let me
+know, and I'll drive on. Now in the Civil War we sent them politicals to
+Fort Wadsworth."</p>
+
+<p>"So you have to wait till they decide?"</p>
+
+<p>"You bet I have. And there ain't no superfluity of shade on the sunny
+side of this street neither," replied the driver, as he slipped off his
+coat and hung it with his cap on a peg beside the box seat of the Black
+Maria.</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose you were to run into the court and see how they're getting on,"
+suggested Banborough, slipping a coin into his hand. "I want a word with
+the police when they've<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> finished. Mention the <i>Daily Leader</i>. I'll
+watch your horses."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they'll stand quiet enough," said the man. Then, suspiciously,
+jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards Spotts, he asked: "Who's yer
+pal?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just a green hand whom I'm initiating into the business."</p>
+
+<p>"You're pretty green yourself or you wouldn't have set me up," said the
+driver. "But if you'll mind them horses I'll just run across to
+McCafferty's saloon and have a schooner of beer, and then drop into
+court for you."</p>
+
+<p>"All right," responded Cecil. "Only don't be all day; I've got another
+detail."</p>
+
+<p>"Say," rejoined the man, "I can put beer down quicker than you can
+wink." And he ran across the street.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what's to be done?" demanded Banborough, as the man left them.</p>
+
+<p>"That's easily answered," replied Spotts. "When he's in court we'll jump
+on the box, drive for all we're worth till we've eluded pursuit,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> then
+rescue Miss Arminster and be off to Yonkers."</p>
+
+<p>"But that's laying ourselves open to arrest," expostulated the
+Englishman.</p>
+
+<p>"We've done that already," said his friend.</p>
+
+<p>"But they'll know we're not officials: we've no uniform."</p>
+
+<p>"What, not when the driver has obligingly left his hat and coat?" said
+Spotts. "Slip them on. You've dark trousers, and no one will suspect."</p>
+
+<p>"But driving fast&mdash;?" protested the author.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we're going to a 'hurry call,' of course. You've no invention,
+man! And besides, I can't drive."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that doesn't matter," said Banborough. "I understand all about
+horses."</p>
+
+<p>"So I supposed, as you're an Englishman."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care much for this business, you know," remonstrated the
+unfortunate author.</p>
+
+<p>"Neither do I," replied the actor. "But we might as well be killed for a
+sheep as a lamb,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> and we've a good chance of winning. Here comes the
+driver; give him a bluff."</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't lost much time," panted that individual as he passed them,
+wiping the foam from his moustache with the back of his hand, and
+adding: "I'll run right into court and be out again in a jiffy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Stay long enough to see how things are going," called Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"All right! Guess the horses'll stand," he replied, and disappeared
+within the building.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Bishop!" cried Spotts. And before the Englishman could think, his
+coat and hat had been whipped off and thrown on the box seat along with
+a small handbag which the actor carried, and he was being helped into
+the very hot and unsavoury clothes of the driver.</p>
+
+<p>"Lucky they fit you," said his friend. "Lead the horses carefully to the
+corner, and see they don't make more noise than necessary. If the driver
+should come out, you let 'em go; otherwise wait for me. Know where to
+drive?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Along the park?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Spotts. "Double several times, then try one of the avenues to
+the Harlem River. There are plenty of bridges. Now, careful!" And as
+Cecil moved slowly off, leading the horses towards the upper corner, the
+actor lounged up to the entrance of the court, blocking the doorway with
+his athletic figure.</p>
+
+<p>After what seemed an eternity, Banborough achieved the corner of the
+block, and, mounting the box, turned the horses' heads down the side
+street, keeping an eagle eye upon the entrance of the court-room, within
+which his companion had now disappeared. Perhaps three minutes had
+elapsed when the actor came out, running quietly towards him so as not
+to attract attention. The street was well-nigh deserted, and no one
+seemed to have noticed the movements of the Black Maria.</p>
+
+<p>"Walk slowly till we're round the corner, and then drive for all you're
+worth!" gasped Spotts, springing on to the seat beside him.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil followed his directions implicitly, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> a moment later they went
+tearing down the side street, and swung round the corner into an avenue,
+nearly colliding with a cable-car in the process, and causing a wild
+scatteration of passengers and pedestrians.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, that won't do!" cried the actor above the rattle occasioned by
+their rapid progress over the cobblestones. "Ring the bell, or we'll be
+arrested!"</p>
+
+<p>"Where?" called Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"That knob under your feet. Press it!"</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman did as directed, and instantly the most hideous clamour
+arose beneath the carriage. The horses, which had been flying before,
+excited by the noise, put down their heads and tore blindly forward. The
+vehicle rocked and swayed, and the avenue and its occupants swept by in
+an indistinguishable blur.</p>
+
+<p>"They'll surely track us by the noise!" screamed Cecil, trying to make
+himself heard above the horrible din.</p>
+
+<p>"We're too far off by this time," returned Spotts. "Can you manage the
+horses?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they're all right so long as we've a clear road!" yelled Banborough
+in reply.</p>
+
+<p>They were now well under way, the traffic ahead of them swerving wildly
+to right and left at the insistent clamour of the bell. They rushed
+forward by leaps and bounds, an occasional stretch of asphalt giving
+them an instant's respite from the dreadful shaking of the cobblestones.
+They spoke but little, excitement keeping them quiet, but the Englishman
+suffered keenly in spirit at the thought of what the delicate girl, shut
+up in that dark stifling prison behind them, must be undergoing.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly in front of them loomed up the helmeted figure of a policeman,
+swinging his club and gesticulating wildly.</p>
+
+<p>"Run him down!" howled Spotts; and Cecil, who had caught some of the
+madness of their wild flight, lashed the horses afresh and hurled the
+Black Maria straight at the officer of the law.</p>
+
+<p>The constable, still gesticulating, made a hasty leap to one side, and
+they swept by a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> huge express-wagon which was coming up the
+cross-street, nearly grazing the noses of the rearing horses, and
+catching a glimpse of the driver's startled face.</p>
+
+<p>So they ran on and on, faster and faster as the traffic became less, and
+the pair of bays settled down in earnest to the race. Suddenly the
+street narrowed, and a confused mass of carts and horses seemed to block
+up the farther end. Banborough put on the brake, and with considerable
+difficulty succeeded in bringing his team to a standstill on the outer
+edge of the throng.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the Harlem River," cried Spotts, "and the drawbridge is up, curse
+the luck!"</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing for it but wait, and Cecil, jumping down, patted the
+horses and examined the harness to make sure that everything was all
+right.</p>
+
+<p>"You seem in a rush," said a neighbouring driver.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurry call to Harlem," replied Banborough brusquely.</p>
+
+<p>"Whereabouts?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, police station."</p>
+
+<p>"What station?"</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman grunted an inaudible reply as a forward movement of the
+crowd betokened that the bridge was again in position. A moment later
+they were trotting towards freedom and the open country, Cecil making
+the horses go slower now, wishing to reserve their strength for any
+unforeseen emergency.</p>
+
+<p>As the buildings grew more scattered, and patches of woodland appeared
+here and there, the actor began to discuss with his companion their plan
+of campaign.</p>
+
+<p>"The sooner we get Violet out of her prison," he said, "and leave this
+confounded vehicle behind, the better."</p>
+
+<p>"It's rather too well populated about here to suit me," replied
+Banborough. "But the police haven't been idle since we started, and our
+flight has probably been telegraphed all over the countryside. Perhaps
+we'd better run the risk, for if we're caught red-handed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> with the Black
+Maria we'll find some difficulty in proving our innocence."</p>
+
+<p>"Besides which, I'm anxious to get Miss Arminster out of durance vile as
+soon as possible, for I think the Leopard's been caged long enough,"
+said Spotts, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you people insist on calling Miss Arminster the Leopard?" asked
+Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," said his companion, "I think I'd better let you find that out for
+yourself. It would hardly be fair to Violet, and besides&mdash;" Then,
+breaking off suddenly as they entered a strip of woodland, he changed
+the conversation abruptly, saying: "Here's as good a place as we're
+likely to find&mdash;no houses in sight, and a clear view of the road in
+either direction." And as Cecil drew up the horses he jumped off the
+box.</p>
+
+<p>"How are you going to open the confounded thing?" asked the author.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," replied his companion, "I should think a key would be as good a
+method as any other."</p>
+
+<p>"The best, provided you've got the key."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I imagine you'll find it in the right-hand outside pocket of the
+driver's coat," said Spotts. "I thought I heard something jingle as I
+was helping you on with it."</p>
+
+<p>"Right you are," said the Englishman. "Here it is!" producing two
+nickel-plated keys on a ring. "Now we'll have her out in no time." And
+running round to the back of the vehicle, he unlocked the folding doors
+and threw them wide open, crying:</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Miss Arminster, accept your freedom and a thousand pardons for
+such rough treatment. What the&mdash;!" And he stopped short, too surprised
+to finish; for, instead of the petite form of the fascinating Violet,
+there shambled out on to the road the slouching figure of a disreputable
+tramp, clothed in nondescript garments of uncertain age and colour,
+terminating in a pair of broken boots, out of which protruded sockless
+feet. He had a rough shock of hair, surmounted by a soft hat full of
+holes, and a fat German face, whose ugliness was further enhanced by the
+red stubbly growth of a week's beard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I guess youse gents has rescued me unbeknownst, and I'm much obleeged,
+though I don't know but what I'd rather break stones up to Sing Sing
+than be chucked round the way I has been for the last hour."</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you?" demanded Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"Me?" said the figure. "Oh, I'm a anarchist."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH THE BLACK MARIA RECEIVES A NEW INMATE.</h3>
+
+<p>At the sight of this astonishing and utterly unlooked-for personage, the
+actor and the Englishman stood for a moment gaping at each other in
+surprised silence. Then, as the full force of what they had done
+occurred to them, and they realised that, at great risk of life, limb,
+and freedom, they had rescued from the clutches of the law an utterly
+worthless tramp, they burst into peals of uncontrollable laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"But where's Violet?" gasped Spotts, who was the first to recover
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, there's a lady in there, if you mean <i>her</i>," said the tramp,
+indicating the cavernous depths of the Black Maria.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'm here all right," came the welcome tones of the little
+actress's voice. "I'll be out in just a moment, as soon as I've put
+myself straight. You're the most reckless drivers I ever saw."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm awfully sorry," said Banborough, approaching the door to help her
+out. "But circumstances didn't leave us much choice."</p>
+
+<p>"Apparently not," she replied, and a moment later stood in their midst,
+looking even more bewitching than usual in her dishevelled condition.
+Then as she drew a long breath, inhaling the fresh woodland air, and
+realising all the joy of her restored freedom, the eternal feminine
+reasserted itself, and, seizing both of Spotts's hands, she cried
+impetuously: "Look at me, Alvy, and tell me if my hat is straight."</p>
+
+<p>They all laughed, which broke the tension of the situation.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what you must think of us," said Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I was being run away with at first," she said; "but when I
+heard Alvy's voice on the box I knew it must be all right."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Of course," continued Cecil, "we hadn't the least idea there was
+anybody else in the van."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I didn't mind so much," she said. "He was quite nice and
+respectful, and very soft to fall on. I guess he must be all black and
+blue from the number of times I hit him."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you're safe, and that's the main thing," said Spotts.</p>
+
+<p>"But what does it all mean?" she demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, there's time enough for explanations later on," returned the actor.
+"We're not out of the woods yet."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course we aren't, stupid! Any one can see that."</p>
+
+<p>"Metaphorically, he means," said Cecil. "But, joking apart, this Black
+Maria is, so to speak <i>particeps criminis</i>, and the sooner we lose it
+the better."</p>
+
+<p>"Which way shall we go?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's been all arranged beforehand with the other members of the
+party," said Spotts, purposely omitting to mention their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> destination in
+the presence of their undesirable companion. "It can't be more than a
+mile or two across country to the Hudson River Railroad, and we'd better
+make for the nearest station. Do you feel up to walking?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do I feel up to walking!" she exclaimed. "Well, if you'd been chucked
+round for an hour without being consulted, I guess you'd feel like doing
+a little locomotion on your own account." And without another word the
+three turned to get their belongings.</p>
+
+<p>"Say," interjected the tramp, "where do I come in?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but you don't," said Spotts. "We're going to leave you this
+beautiful carriage and pair with our blessing. Better take a drive in
+the country and enjoy the fresh air."</p>
+
+<p>"Yah!" snarled the disreputable one in reply. "That don't go! It's too
+thin! Why, look here, boss," he continued, addressing Banborough, "you
+went and 'scaped with me without so much as sayin' by your leave, and
+now, when you've gone and laid me open to extra time for evadin' of my
+penalty, you've<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> got the cheek to propose to leave me alone in a cold
+world with <i>that</i>!" And he pointed expressively at the Black Maria.</p>
+
+<p>"It is rather hard lines," admitted Cecil. "But, you see, it would never
+do to have you with us, my man. Why, your clothes would give us away
+directly."</p>
+
+<p>"And I'll give yer away directly to the cops if you don't take me
+along."</p>
+
+<p>Banborough and Spotts looked at each other in redoubled perplexity.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," continued the anarchist, "I don't go for to blow on no blokes
+as has stood by me as youse has, but it's sink or swim together.
+Besides, you'd get lost in this country in no time, while I knows it
+well. Why, I burgled here as a boy."</p>
+
+<p>"What's to be done?" asked Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I suppose we've got to take him along," replied the actor. "We're
+all in the same boat, if it comes to that."</p>
+
+<p>"Now if youse gents," suggested the tramp, "could find an extra pair of
+pants between you, this coat and hat would suit me down to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> the ground."
+And he laid a dirty paw on Banborough's discarded garments.</p>
+
+<p>"No you don't!" cried that gentleman, hastily recovering his
+possessions. "Haven't you got any clothes in that bag of yours, Spotts?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I <i>have</i> got a costume, Bishop, and that's a fact," replied the
+actor; "but it's hardly in his line, I should think."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked the Englishman. "You seem about of a size."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a Quaker outfit. I used it in a curtain-raiser we were playing."</p>
+
+<p>"That would do very well," said Cecil, "if it isn't too pronounced."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's tame enough," replied the actor, who exercised a restraint in
+his art for which those who met him casually did not give him credit.
+Indeed, among the many admirable qualities which led people to predict a
+brilliant future for Spotts was the fact that he never overdid anything.</p>
+
+<p>"Huh!" grunted the tramp, "I dunno but what I'd as lieve sport a shovel
+hat as the suit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> of bedticking they give yer up the river. I used to
+work round Philidelphy some, and I guess I could do the lingo."</p>
+
+<p>"Give them to him," said Banborough. "I'll make it good to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, take them, then," replied Spotts regretfully, handing their
+unwelcome companion the outfit which he produced from his bag, adding as
+he pointed to the woods: "Get in there and change quickly. We ought to
+be moving."</p>
+
+<p>The tramp made one step towards the underbrush, and then, pausing
+doubtfully, said:</p>
+
+<p>"You don't happen to have a razor and a bit of looking-glass about yer,
+do yer? I see there's a brook here, and there ain't nothin' Quakery
+about my beard."</p>
+
+<p>The actor's face was a study.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid there's no escape from it, old man," remarked Cecil. "If
+you've your shaving materials with you, let him have them."</p>
+
+<p>"There they are. You needn't trouble to return them."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Their recipient grinned appreciatively, and as the last rustle of his
+retirement into privacy died away, Miss Arminster turned to Banborough
+and demanded:</p>
+
+<p>"Now tell me what I was arrested for, why you two ran away with me, and
+where I'm being taken."</p>
+
+<p>"I can answer the first of those questions," broke in Spotts. "You're a
+Spanish sympathiser and a political spy."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm nothing of the sort, as you know very well!" she replied, colouring
+violently. "I'm the leading lady of the A.&nbsp;B.&nbsp;C. Company."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course <i>we</i> know it," returned the actor; "but the police have
+chosen to take a different view of the matter."</p>
+
+<p>"Why is he chaffing me like this?" she said, appealing to Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid it's a grim reality," he replied. "You see, when the Spanish
+officials were turned out of Washington, they'd the impertinence to take
+the title of my book as their password."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, then," she said, "they did what they'd no right to do."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose that would be a question of international copyright," he
+replied. "But 'The Purple Kangaroo' has proved itself a most troublesome
+animal, and as I thought you wouldn't care for quarters down the bay
+till the war was over, I took the liberty of running off with you."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm very much obliged to you, I'm sure; but what next?"</p>
+
+<p>"We're all to rendezvous at Yonkers."</p>
+
+<p>"And then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, unless the situation improves, I'm afraid it'll become a question
+of seeking a refuge in another country."</p>
+
+<p>"If you think," she cried, "that I'm going to spend the rest of my
+existence in the forests of Yucatan or on the plains of Patagonia,
+you're mightily mistaken!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," he said, laughing, "it isn't as bad as all that. Ours is only a
+political crime, and Canada will afford a safe harbour from the
+extradition laws."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But the war won't be finished in a day," she contended, her eyes
+beginning to fill with tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you trust me?" asked Cecil, taking both her hands. "Won't you let
+me prove my repentance by guarding your welfare? Won't you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Indeed there is no knowing to what he might have committed himself in
+the face of such beauty and sorrow had not Spotts broken in with a cry
+of:</p>
+
+<p>"It's all up now! We're done for, and no mistake!" And he pointed to the
+figure of a short, fat, red-faced man, very much out of breath, who was
+bustling down the road, waving his hands at them and shouting "Hi!"</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better go and warn the tramp," said Banborough; and the actor
+plunged into the woods.</p>
+
+<p>A moment later the stranger came up to them, and panted out:</p>
+
+<p>"I arrest you both, in the name of the law!"</p>
+
+<p>Neither said anything, but Banborough<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> took one of Miss Arminster's tiny
+gloved hands in his own and gave it a little squeeze just by way of
+reassuring her.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said the new arrival, as soon as he had recovered his breath,
+"what have you got to say for yourselves?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know that we've anything to say," replied Cecil sheepishly.</p>
+
+<p>"I should think not!" said the other. "Here, take off that coat!" And he
+stripped the official garment from the Englishman's shoulders. "The cap,
+too!"</p>
+
+<p>Banborough handed it to him, saying as he did so:</p>
+
+<p>"You're a police official, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm the Justice of the Peace from the next town. They just missed
+catching you at the last place you drove through, and telegraphed on to
+me. Knowing there was a cross-road here, I wasn't going to take any
+chance of losing you. I left the police to follow. They'll be along in a
+minute. Now what do you mean by it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't suppose any explanations of mine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> would persuade you that
+you're making a mistake," said Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I don't suppose they would. Now you put on that coat accidentally,
+didn't you? Just absent-mindedly&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know you," broke in the Englishman, "and I don't&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That'll do," said the Justice of the Peace. "I don't know you either,
+and&mdash;yes, I do know the woman." Then turning to Miss Arminster, he
+continued: "Didn't I perform the marriage ceremony over you the year
+before last?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said softly. And Cecil relinquished her hand. This, he
+considered, was worse than being arrested.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I did," went on the magistrate. "I don't often forget a face,
+and I'm sorry to see you in such bad company."</p>
+
+<p>The young girl began to show signs of breaking down, and the situation
+was fast becoming acute, when the unexpected tones of an unctuous voice
+suddenly diverted everybody's attention.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Why is thee so violent, friend?" said some one behind them. And turning
+quickly, they perceived the sleek, clean-shaven, well-groomed figure of
+a Quaker, dressed in a shad-bellied brown coat, a low black silk hat
+with a curved brim, and square shoes.</p>
+
+<p>"Who the devil&mdash;!" began the officer.</p>
+
+<p>"Fie! fie!" said the stranger. "Abstain from cursings and revilings in
+thy speech. But I am glad thee hast come, for verily I feared the
+workers of iniquity were abroad."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you know something about it, do you?" asked the Justice of the
+Peace.</p>
+
+<p>"I was returning from a meeting of the Friends," continued the Quaker
+blandly, "when I came upon these two misguided souls. As my counsellings
+were not heeded, and I am a man of peace, I had retired into the woods
+to pursue my way uninterrupted, when I heard thee approach."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll be glad of your assistance, though I daresay I could have
+managed them until the police came. They're a dangerous pair.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And what will thee do with the other prisoner, friend?"</p>
+
+<p>"Eh? What other prisoner?"</p>
+
+<p>"The one that lies in a debauched sleep at the farther end of the van. I
+have striven to arouse him, but in vain."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is he?" said the magistrate, peering into the black depths of the
+waggon.</p>
+
+<p>"In the far corner. Thee canst not see him from here."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll have him out in no time!" exclaimed the officer, springing into
+the van, with the driver's hat and coat still in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Not if I knows it, you old bloke!" cried the sometime Quaker, slamming
+the door and turning the key with vicious enjoyment, while his three
+companions, for Spotts had emerged from the wood, executed a war-dance
+round the vehicle out of sheer joy and exultation. From within proceeded
+a variety of curses and imprecations, while the Black Maria bounced upon
+its springs as if a young elephant had gone mad inside.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the Quaker laid a detaining hand upon Banborough's shoulder,
+saying:</p>
+
+<p>"Take care, boss; here come the cops! I'll play the leading r&ocirc;le, and
+you follow the cues."</p>
+
+<p>They all paused and stood listening, while the rapid beat of a horse's
+hoofs came to their ears, and a second later a Concord waggon, loaded
+down with policemen, swung into view round the corner of the road, and
+presently drew up beside them.</p>
+
+<p>"Thee hast come in good time, friend," said the Quaker to the chief
+officer. "We have watched thy prisoners overlong already."</p>
+
+<p>"Where's the boss?" demanded the official.</p>
+
+<p>"Dost thee mean the worldly man with the red face, much given to profane
+speaking?"</p>
+
+<p>"I guess that's him," laughed one of the subordinates.</p>
+
+<p>"As I was returning from a meeting of the Friends with these good
+people," pursued the Quaker, indicating his companions, "we came upon
+this vehicle standing in the road, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> horses being held by two men,
+who, when they saw us, ran into the woods towards the river."</p>
+
+<p>"How were they dressed?" asked the chief officer.</p>
+
+<p>"One of them had garments like thine, friend."</p>
+
+<p>"That's our man, sure!"</p>
+
+<p>"Very presently," resumed the Quaker, "came thy master, using much
+unseemly language, who, having heard our story, followed the men in the
+direction we indicated, begging that we guard this carriage till you
+came, and bidding us tell you to return with it to the town."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I guess the boss knows his own business best," said the leader of
+the party; "so we'd better be getting back to the station. I suppose
+you'll come and give your evidence."</p>
+
+<p>"I am a man of peace," said the Quaker; "but if my testimony is required
+I and my friends will walk behind thee to the next town and give it."</p>
+
+<p>"It's only half a mile from here, a straight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> road&mdash;you can't miss it.
+You'll be there as soon as we want you."</p>
+
+<p>The Quaker nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Then we'd better be moving," said the chief officer. "I'll drive Maria,
+and you fellows go ahead in the cart."</p>
+
+<p>The remarks which were now proceeding from the interior of that vehicle
+were much too dreadful to record. But as it was about to start, the man
+of peace, lifting his hands, checked the driver and said:</p>
+
+<p>"I will, with thy permission, approach the grating and speak a word of
+counsel." And going to the door, he said in a loud voice:</p>
+
+<p>"Peace, friend. Remember what the good Benjamin Franklin has said: 'He
+that speaks much is much mistaken.'"</p>
+
+<p>The reply elicited by these remarks was of such a nature that Miss
+Arminster was obliged to put her hands over her ears, and the police
+drove off with loud guffaws, enjoying immensely the good Quaker's
+confusion.</p>
+
+<p>"That bloke," remarked the tramp, as the Black Maria disappeared in a
+cloud of dust,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> "give me three months once, an' I feels better."</p>
+
+<p>And without another word he led the party across the road and into the
+woods in the direction of the river.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH THE PARTY RECEIVES A NEW IMPETUS.</h3>
+
+<p>An hour later, when the little party of four, weary and dusty, walked up
+to the hotel at Yonkers, they perceived Tybalt Smith in his
+shirt-sleeves, with his hat tipped over his eyes as a protection from
+the rays of the declining sun, lying fast asleep in a large garden chair
+which was tilted back on its hind legs against the side of the house.
+Spotts lost no time in poking him in the ribs with his cane, whereupon
+the tragedian, rousing himself from slumber, hastily assumed a more
+upright position, bringing the chair down on its front legs with a bang.
+Having thus been fully awakened, he became at once the master of the
+situation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We are here," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"So I see," replied Spotts, "and a pretty show you've made of yourself.
+There's nothing private or retiring about your methods. Now where are
+the rest of the party?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Smith at once assumed an air of mysterious solemnity.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Mackintosh," he said in a stage whisper, "is above. I reserved an
+apartment for her and the Leop&mdash;Miss Arminster, I mean, and a private
+sitting-room for us all. Mrs. Mackintosh is disturbed. Mrs. Mackintosh
+requires an explanation. Mrs. Mackintosh," turning to Banborough, "is a
+woman of great character, of great force, and she requires an
+explanation of <i>you</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ha!" said Spotts, casting a look of mock commiseration at the
+Englishman.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it might be better," suggested the tragedian, "if Miss
+Arminster saw her first."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it might," acquiesced Spotts.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, I'll go," said Violet; adding to Cecil, as she passed him:
+"Don't be frightened;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> her bark's worse than her bite." And she entered
+the house laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"But where are the others?" asked the author.</p>
+
+<p>"Sh!" whispered the tragedian, casting a suspicious glance at the
+Quaker. "We're not alone."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Spotts, "the Bishop's got a new convert."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," returned Banborough, "I forgot you hadn't met this gentleman. We
+inadvertently rescued him, and since then he's done us a similar service
+twice over. I really don't know what he's called. The clothes belong to
+Spotts."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I recognised the costume," said Smith. Then, turning to the
+stranger, he demanded, abruptly: "What's your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have been known by many," came the suave tones of the Quaker, "but
+for the purposes of our brief acquaintance thee mayst call me Friend
+Othniel."</p>
+
+<p>The tragedian gave a grunt of disapproval.</p>
+
+<p>"I think he can be trusted," remarked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> Spotts. "He's certainly stood by
+us well, so far. Now tell us about Kerrington and Mill."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'm most anxious to know what's become of them," said the
+Englishman. And the three drew nearer together, while the Quaker,
+turning to the road, stood basking in the sunshine, his broad flabby
+hands clasped complacently before him.</p>
+
+<p>Tybalt Smith, after casting another furtive glance in Friend Othniel's
+direction, murmured the words:</p>
+
+<p>"Shoe-strings and a sandwich!"</p>
+
+<p>"Eh? What?" queried Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"Our two friends," continued the tragedian, "through the powerful aid of
+a member of our fraternity, whose merits the public have hitherto failed
+to recognise, have sought refuge in the more humble walks of life to
+escape the undesirable publicity forced upon them by <i>you</i>! Mr.
+Kerrington, disguised as a Jew pedlar, is now dispensing shoe-strings
+and collar-buttons on lower Broadway, while Mr. Mill is at present
+taking a constitutional down Fifth Avenue encased in a sandwich frame
+calling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> attention to the merits of Backer's Tar Soap. He is, if I may
+so express it, between the boards instead of on the boards&mdash;a little
+pleasantry of my own, you will observe."</p>
+
+<p>The tragedian paused, but failing to elicit the desired laugh, continued
+his narration:</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Mackintosh, though having been offered a most desirable position
+to hawk apples and chewing-gum on Madison Square, has preferred to share
+the rigours of an unknown exile, that she might protect the youthful
+innocence of our leading lady."</p>
+
+<p>"All of which means," said Spotts shortly, "that Mill and Kerrington
+chose to fake it out in town, while you and the old girl bolted."</p>
+
+<p>"Our friend," remarked Smith, casting an aggrieved look at the last
+speaker, "is lamentably terse. But let us join Mrs. Mackintosh. She
+will support my remarks, not perhaps in such chaste diction, but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, shut it off!" interrupted Mr. Spotts. "Come along, Othniel. I guess
+you're in this, too." And he led the way into the house.</p>
+
+<p>When they entered the private parlour they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> found Mrs. Mackintosh and
+Miss Arminster waiting to receive them, the old lady with mingled
+feelings of righteous indignation and amusement at the ludicrous
+position in which they were placed, which latter she strove hard to
+conceal.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Bishop," she began, as soon as Banborough was fairly in the room,
+"you've carried off an innocent and unsuspecting young lady in a Black
+Maria, imprisoned an officer of the law, deceived his agents, reduced
+two of the members of our company to walking the streets, forced us to
+consort with thieves and criminals," pointing to the bland form of the
+Quaker, who had just appeared in the doorway, "laid us all under the
+imputation of plotting against our country, exiled us from our native
+land, brought me away from New York in my declining years, with only the
+clothes I stand up in, and deposited me in a small room on the third
+floor of a second-class hotel, which is probably full of fleas! And now
+I ask you, sir, in the name of Christian decency, which you're supposed
+to represent,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> and common sense, of which you've very little, what
+you're going to do with us?"</p>
+
+<p>Banborough sat down suddenly on the nearest available chair, made a weak
+attempt at a smile, gave it up, and blurted out:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm blessed if I know! But permit me to decline the declining
+years," he murmured gallantly.</p>
+
+<p>"I have," continued the lady, with a twinkle in her eye, "for the past
+thirty years played blameless parts on the metropolitan stage, and I'm
+too old to assume with any degree of success the r&ocirc;le of a political
+criminal."</p>
+
+<p>"Madam," said the author, making a desperate effort to compose himself,
+"I'm the first to admit the lack of foresight on my part which has
+placed us in this deplorable predicament; but the fact remains that
+we're suspected of a serious crime against this Government, and until we
+can prove ourselves innocent it's necessary to protect our liberties as
+best we may. I fortunately have ample funds, and I can only say that it
+will be a duty as well as a privilege to take you all to a place of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>
+safety, and keep you there, as my guests, till happier times."</p>
+
+<p>"Hear, hear!" said the tragedian from the back of the room, while the
+Quaker settled himself into the most comfortable armchair with a sigh of
+contentment.</p>
+
+<p>"Very nicely spoken, young man," replied the older lady, whose
+suspicions were only partially allayed, "but words aren't deeds, and
+Canada, where I'm informed we're to be dumped, is a long way off; and if
+you imagine you can go cavorting round the country with a Black Maria
+for a whole afternoon without bringing the police down on you, you're
+vastly mistaken!"</p>
+
+<p>"Thee speaketh words of wisdom, but a full stomach fortifieth a stout
+heart," said Friend Othniel.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied Smith, who took this remark to himself. "I ordered dinner
+at six, thinking you'd be in then, and if I'm not mistaken it's here
+now." And as he spoke the door opened and a waiter entered to lay the
+table.</p>
+
+<p>Conversation of a private nature was naturally<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> suspended forthwith, and
+the members of the A.&nbsp;B.&nbsp;C. Company sat in silence, hungrily eyeing the
+board.</p>
+
+<p>"Thee mayst lay a place for me, friend," said the Quaker to the waiter,
+as he watched the preparations with bland enjoyment.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you order any drinks?" asked Banborough of the tragedian.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Bishop, I didn't," replied the latter. "As you're paying for the
+show, I thought I'd leave you that privilege."</p>
+
+<p>"Order six soda lemonades," said Banborough to the waiter, adding behind
+his hand to Spotts, as he noted the gloom spread over the company: "No
+liquor to-night. We need to keep our wits about us."</p>
+
+<p>"Stop, friend," came the unctuous tones of the Quaker, arresting the
+waiter as he was about to leave the room. "For myself I never take
+strong waters, but thee forgettest, Bishop," giving Banborough the title
+he had heard the others use, "thee forgettest that our revered friend,"
+with a wave of his hand in Mrs. Mackintosh's direction, "hath an
+affection<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> of her lungs which requires her to take a brandy and soda for
+her body's good before meals. Let it be brought at once!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you impudent upstart!" gasped the old lady, as the door closed
+behind the waiter. "How dare you say I drink!"</p>
+
+<p>"Shoo!" returned Friend Othniel, lapsing from the Quaker into the tramp;
+"I ain't orderin' it for youse. I've a throat like a Sahara."</p>
+
+<p>Then turning to the other members of the company, he continued:</p>
+
+<p>"Now seein' as we've a moment alone, and bein' all criminals, I votes we
+has a session o' the committee o' ways and means."</p>
+
+<p>A chorus of indignant protest arose from every side.</p>
+
+<p>"Youse ain't criminals, eh? What's liberatin' prisoners, an' stealin'
+two hosses an' a kerridge, an' the driver's hat an' coat, with a
+five-dollar bill in the pocket?"</p>
+
+<p>Banborough rose to deny vehemently the last assertion.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, ther' was," continued the tramp.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> "I got that." And he
+produced a crisp note at the sight of which the Englishman groaned, as
+he realised the damning chain of evidence which circumstance was
+building up around them.</p>
+
+<p>"An' lockin' up officers of the law," Friend Othniel went on, "an'
+runnin' off with prisoners, specially a tough like me, one o' your pals,
+what's wanted particular." And he winked villainously.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not see," began Banborough, who was fast losing his temper, "that
+there's any need of discussing the moral aspect of this affair. You,"
+turning to the tramp, "will have your dinner and your drink, and a
+certain sum of money, and you'll then kindly leave us. Though your
+nature may be incapable of appreciating the difference between a crime
+knowingly committed and one innocently entered into, a difference
+exists, and renders further association between us undesirable, to say
+the least."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it does, does it?" said Friend Othniel. "Well, that's where youse
+blokes is mistook.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> This mornin' my dearest ambition was to blow up
+Madison Square Garden, but what's that to wreckin' a whole nation? No,
+Bishop, I'm a political conspirator from this time on, and I'll stand by
+yer through thick and thin! Why, you people ain't no more fitted to run
+a show o' this sort than a parcel of three-weeks-old babies. I wouldn't
+give yer ten hours to land the whole crowd in jail; but you just trust
+to me, and I'll see yer safe, if it can be done. I tell yer, it ain't
+the fust time I ben in a hurry to view Niagary Falls from the Canadian
+side."</p>
+
+<p>Just then the door opened, and the waiter entered with the brandy and
+soda in a long glass.</p>
+
+<p>"Thee mayst put it here, friend, till the lady is ready to take it,"
+said Othniel, indicating the table at his side.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing of the kind," snapped Mrs. Mackintosh. "I guess I'm as ready to
+take it now's I ever shall be." And she grasped the glass and, setting
+her face, proceeded to drain the tumbler to the amusement of the
+company.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"There," she said, wiping her lips with her handkerchief, as the waiter
+left the room, "that tasted about as bad as anything I've had for a long
+time; but if it had been castor oil, I'd have drunk every drop rather
+than that you'd had it."</p>
+
+<p>A general laugh greeted this sally, and the tramp remarked sheepishly
+that he guessed he'd know it the next time he ran up against her.</p>
+
+<p>Then, waxing serious, he resumed his former topic.</p>
+
+<p>"We ain't got no time to waste in frivolity," he said, "and if we're to
+get out of this hole, the sooner we makes our plans the better, and
+perhaps, as I know more about this business than youse, I'll do the
+talking."</p>
+
+<p>Receiving the silent assent of the company, he continued: "I remembers
+in the days o' my innocent youth, before I burgled my first watch,
+a-playin' of a Sunday-school game, where we went out of the room, and
+the bloke what teached us put a quarter somewhere in plain sight, and
+when we come in again not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> one on us could find it, 'cause it was just
+under our noses; which the same is the game I'm proposing to play."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I see what you mean," said Banborough. "I've heard it said that
+the destruction of most criminals is their cleverness."</p>
+
+<p>"That's just what I'm a-tryin' to point out," replied the tramp. "The
+cops gives you the credit of allus tryin' to do the out-o'-the-way
+thing, so as to put 'em off the track, while if yer only acted as yer
+naturally would if yer hadn't done nothin' to be cotched for, yer could
+walk before their eyes and they'd never see yer."</p>
+
+<p>"That sounds all right," said Spotts. "Now what's your advice?"</p>
+
+<p>"To go back to New York," replied the tramp shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"But," objected Miss Arminster, "we can't stay in the United States."</p>
+
+<p>"Who said we could?" retorted the tramp. "Don't yer see, the cops'll
+reckon on our takin' some train along hereabouts for the North, and
+they'll watch all the little stations<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> on the up line, but they won't
+trouble 'bout the down line, 'cause they know we've left the city. So
+all we has to do, after we've had our dinner comfortable-like, is to
+take a local back to town, and catch the White Mountain Express for
+Montreal."</p>
+
+<p>"Why the White Mountain Express?" asked Mrs. Mackintosh.</p>
+
+<p>"'Cause it's the longest route," replied the tramp, "an' they'll reckon
+on our takin' the shortest. Besides which, we'll cross the border in the
+early morning, havin' the baggage, which we ain't got, examined on
+arrival."</p>
+
+<p>The company expressed hearty approval of the plan, and it was easy to
+see, in the case of the ladies at least, that Friend Othniel's sagacity
+had won him a much-improved position in their estimation.</p>
+
+<p>The waiter now came bustling in and out of the room, and Mrs. Mackintosh
+drew Cecil apart into the embrasure of a window.</p>
+
+<p>"You mustn't think I'm too hard on you, young man," she said, "though I
+can talk like a house afire when I once get r'iled. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> know you didn't
+mean to get us into this scrape. You're a good-hearted chap, or you
+wouldn't have given us all a breakfast when you didn't need to, and I
+want you to understand that I'll stand by you whatever happens. I've
+taken a real liking to you, because you can look me straight in the eye,
+and I know you're worth a dozen of those chaps one sees hanging round a
+theatre; and if you behave yourself nicely, you won't find you've got a
+better friend than Betsy Mackintosh." And she squeezed his hand with an
+honest fervour that many a man might have envied.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil thanked her for her confidence in him, and turned to have a few
+words with Miss Arminster, who had been constantly in his mind. When she
+had admitted to the Justice of the Peace that she was a married woman,
+he felt as if somebody had poured a pitcher of ice-water down his back.
+Of course he hardly considered his sentiment for her as serious, but he
+was at the age when a young man feels it a personal grievance if he
+discovers that a pretty girl is married. Indeed, the fact that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> the
+little actress had been so blind to her own interests as not to keep her
+heart and hand free till he came along first caused him to realise how
+hard he was hit.</p>
+
+<p>"I do hope you've not been too much fatigued?" he said, sitting down
+beside her.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you mustn't bother about that," she replied, raising her eyes to
+his in a decidedly disconcerting manner. "I'm afraid you must have
+thought me very selfish and ungrateful for seeming to care so much about
+my own appearance and so little about all you've done for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't speak of that," he protested.</p>
+
+<p>"But I must speak of it," she insisted. "I can't begin to tell you how I
+appreciated it. It was plucky and just splendid, and some day or other I
+want you to take me out driving again, in another sort of trap. You're
+the best whip I ever knew."</p>
+
+<p>He flushed under her praise, and began to say pretty things which he had
+better have omitted; but she presently became absent-minded in the face
+of his attentions, and interpreting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> this as an unfavourable sign, he
+ventured to ask her why she was so pensive.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid you must think me awfully rude," she said, "and really I've
+listened to all the nice things you've been saying, half of which I
+don't deserve, but the fact is, this place, and even this very room, are
+full of sweet associations for me. It was in that little church, just
+across the road, that I was married four years ago."</p>
+
+<p>"But I thought," he began, "that the Justice of the Peace said that he
+married you."</p>
+
+<p>"So he did," she returned softly, "but that was different&mdash;it was
+later."</p>
+
+<p>"Eh? What!" he said, "later?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she replied dreamily, not noticing the interruption. "But it was
+here that the few sweet days of my first honeymoon were passed. 'Twas
+here I became the bride of the only man I've ever loved, the bride of&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hist!" cried the tramp, who had been looking out of the window. "The
+house is watched!" And with this announcement Banborough's t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te
+came to an abrupt close.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure?" cried Spotts.</p>
+
+<p>"Positive. There are three cops fooling round in front now."</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we do?" cried Smith.</p>
+
+<p>"Git," rejoined the tramp.</p>
+
+<p>"But how?" queried Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'll fix that all right," said the Quaker. "I bagged a plated
+tea-service here five years ago, and if they ain't changed the
+arrangements of the house, this side door leads into an unused passage,
+which, barrin' the climbin' of a picket fence, is very handy for
+escape."</p>
+
+<p>"But how about the waiter?" suggested Mrs. Mackintosh, who was always
+practical.</p>
+
+<p>"Right you are," said Friend Othniel. "We'll lock the door before we get
+out. They'll waste time enough over trying to open it, to give us a
+chance."</p>
+
+<p>To speak was to act, and the tramp softly turned the key and slipped it
+into his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"As a memento," he said. "It's all I'm likely to git. They don't even
+use plate now." And he fingered the spoons and forks on the table
+regretfully.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Come," said Spotts shortly. "We've no time to lose."</p>
+
+<p>"Look here," said Banborough to the company, "I may be a criminal, but
+I'm not a sneak, and I don't order meals and apartments without paying
+for them. How much ought I to leave behind?"</p>
+
+<p>Spotts laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"If you put it that way, I guess ten dollars'll cover it," he said.</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman threw a bill on the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," cried Smith, "let's be off!"</p>
+
+<p>"Out this way," said the tramp, opening a side door. "You others go
+first, and I'll wait here till I sees you're all safe."</p>
+
+<p>"Not if I know it," said Cecil. "You go first, or you'll get kicked."</p>
+
+<p>The tramp looked longingly at the crisp note, and led the way,
+remarking:</p>
+
+<p>"Thee castest thy pearls before swine, friend."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that's just what I'm trying to avoid," said Banborough cheerfully,
+bringing up the rear.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH THE BISHOP OF BLANFORD RECEIVES A BLACK EYE.</h3>
+
+<p>"The Bishop of Blanford!" announced the page, as he threw open the door
+of Sir Joseph Westmoreland's private consulting-room.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Joseph came forward to meet his distinguished patient, and said a
+few tactful words about having long known his Lordship by reputation.
+The Bishop smiled amiably, and surveyed the great London physician
+through his glasses. The two men were of thoroughly opposite types: Sir
+Joseph tall, thin, wiry, his high forehead and piercing blue eye
+proclaiming a powerful mind well trained for the purposes of science;
+the Bishop short and broad of stature, with an amiable, rounded, ruddy
+face, and the low forehead which is typical of a complacent dogmatism.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>An ecclesiastic had come to humbug a man of science. Could he do it? Not
+really, he told himself; but then Sir Joseph was so courteous.</p>
+
+<p>"I ventured to consult you," said his Lordship, in reply to the
+physician's questions, "because I feel the need of rest, absolute rest.
+The duties of my diocese are so onerous&mdash;and&mdash;er&mdash;in short&mdash;you
+understand."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so, quite so," said Sir Joseph, who understood that there was
+nothing whatever the matter with his patient.</p>
+
+<p>"To be entirely alone," continued the Bishop, "for a space of time,
+without any distractions&mdash;not even letters."</p>
+
+<p>"Most certainly not letters, your Lordship."</p>
+
+<p>"How wonderful you men of science are!" murmured the ecclesiastic. "You
+understand me exactly. Now if I could have six weeks&mdash;or even a month."</p>
+
+<p>"A month, I should say," replied Sir Joseph. "After that you might begin
+to receive your correspondence."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, a month would do&mdash;that is&mdash;er&mdash;where would you advise me to go?"</p>
+
+<p>"What climate generally suits you best?"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;er&mdash;was thinking of Scotland."</p>
+
+<p>"In May?" queried the physician.</p>
+
+<p>"A friend would lend me his country place&mdash;and I&mdash;er&mdash;should be so
+entirely alone."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so. Nothing could be better," replied his adviser, who, like all
+men who have risen in their profession, had attained an infinite
+knowledge of human nature.</p>
+
+<p>"And you will be so kind as to write me a note, stating your
+opinion&mdash;about the rest&mdash;and&mdash;er&mdash;immunity from letters&mdash;and all that,"
+said the Bishop, depositing with studied thoughtlessness a double fee on
+the table, "for the benefit of my&mdash;my family. She is&mdash;they are&mdash;I
+mean&mdash;that is, she might not realise the importance of absolute rest,
+and"&mdash;as a brilliant thought occurred to him&mdash;"and you'll give me a
+prescription."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," said Sir Joseph. "I'll do both now."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks," murmured the Bishop, and, receiving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> the precious documents,
+he took his leave.</p>
+
+<p>The great physician's letter he put carefully in an inside pocket; the
+prescription he never remembered to get filled.</p>
+
+<p>"A month," he said to himself; "that ought to be time enough." And he
+hailed a cab, and driving promptly to the nearest American steamship
+office, he engaged a passage forthwith.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder what Sir Joseph thought about it," he meditated, as he paid
+for his ticket. In this respect, however, he did his adviser an
+injustice. Sir Joseph never thought about it at all. It was not part of
+his profession.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Most people would have united in saying that the Bishop of Blanford
+was an exceedingly fortunate man. No one was possessed of an estate
+boasting fairer lawns or more noble beeches, and the palace was a
+singularly successful combination of ecclesiastical antiquity and
+nineteenth-century comfort. The cathedral was a gem, and its boy choir
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> despair of three neighbouring sees, while, owing to a certain
+amount of worldly wisdom on the part of former investors of the
+revenues, the bishopric was among the most handsomely endowed in
+England. Yet his Lordship was not happy. All his life long there had
+been a blot upon his enjoyment, and that blot was his sister, Miss
+Matilda Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Matilda was blatantly good, an intolerant virtue that accounted for
+multitudes of sins in other people. Her one ambition was to bring up the
+Bishop in the way she thought he should go, and hitherto she had been
+wonderfully successful. All through his married life she had resided at
+the palace and been the ruling power, and when his wife had died twenty
+years before, snuffed out by the cold austerity of the Bishop's sister
+and the ecclesiastical monotony of Blanford, Miss Matilda had assumed
+the reins of power, and had never laid them down.</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop's wife had been a weak, amiable woman, and her last conscious
+request was to be buried in the sunlight, but her sister-in-law<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>
+remarked that "her mind must have been wandering, for though Sarah was
+vacillating, she was never sacrilegious." So they buried her in the
+shadiest corner of the cloisters, and put up a memorial brass setting
+forth all the virtues for which she was not particularly noted, and
+entirely omitting to mention her saving grace of patience under great
+provocation.</p>
+
+<p>Since that time the Bishop's son, Cecil, had been a bone of contention
+at Blanford. His aunt had attempted to apply the same rigorous treatment
+to him that had been meted out to his father; but the lad, whose spirit
+had not been broken, refused to submit. At first, in his boyhood days,
+his feeling was chiefly one of awe of Miss Matilda, who always seemed to
+be interfering with his pleasure, and who made the Sabbath anything but
+a day of peace for the restless child. Then came long terms at school,
+with vacations to which he never looked forward, and then four years at
+the university, when the periods spent at Blanford became more dreaded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Cecil tried bringing home friends, but there were too many restrictions.
+So, after graduation, he drifted off to London, where his aunt
+prophesied speedy damnation for him, and never quite forgave him because
+he did not achieve it. During these years his visits to the palace
+became fewer and fewer. Then he wrote his novel, which proved the
+breaking-point, for Miss Matilda forced his good-natured, easy-going
+father to protest against its publication in England, and the young man,
+in impatient scorn, had shaken the dust of his native country from his
+feet and departed to the United States, bearing his manuscript with him.</p>
+
+<p>That was a year ago, and Cecil had never written once. His publishers
+would not give his address, and if he received the letters sent through
+their agency, he never answered them. His father pined for him. His aunt
+waxed spiteful, and so firm was her domination over the Bishop that he
+never dared tell her of his secretly formed plan of going to America to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>
+find his son. Hence his visit to the great London physician.</p>
+
+<p>The little plot worked out better than he could have hoped. Sir Joseph's
+letter proved convincing, for Miss Matilda had a holy awe of constituted
+authority, and would no more have thought of disobeying its injunctions
+than she would of saying her prayers backwards. His Lordship accordingly
+went to London, and disappeared for a month&mdash;ostensibly to Scotland, in
+reality to America; and no one on the Allan liner suspected for a moment
+that the little man in civilian's clothes, whose name appeared on the
+passenger-list as Mr. Banborough, was the Bishop of Blanford.</p>
+
+<p>His thirty days of grace allowed him but two weeks in the States, and
+here fortune seemed to have deserted him, for, on his arrival, he
+learned that his son had gone South. A wild-goose chase to Washington
+consumed much valuable time, and, with only forty-eight hours to spare,
+he arrived at Cecil's quarters in New York on the day when that young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
+gentleman was madly driving a Black Maria out of the city.</p>
+
+<p>Discouraged and disheartened at his lack of success, the Bishop took a
+train for Montreal, and found himself, about ten o'clock on that
+evening, owing to faulty orders and a misplaced switch, stranded at a
+little station just on the dividing line between Canada and the United
+States.</p>
+
+<p>"And when can I proceed on my journey to Montreal?" he queried of the
+station-master.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure I don't know," responded that individual briefly. "We're bound to
+get things cleared for the White Mountain Express if possible."</p>
+
+<p>"And when is it due?" asked his Lordship.</p>
+
+<p>"Eleven forty-five <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>, if she's on time."</p>
+
+<p>"I think," said the Bishop, "that I'll remain for the night, and go on
+at a more seasonable hour to-morrow. Is there any one here who can put
+me up?"</p>
+
+<p>The station-master scratched his head in perplexity, glancing off to the
+horizon where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> glimmered a few lights from scattered farmhouses.</p>
+
+<p>"I dunno what to say," he replied. "I reckon Deacon Perkins would have
+put you up," pointing to the nearest light, some mile and a half
+distant, which at that moment disappeared, "but," added the official,
+"it looks as if he'd gone to bed. Folks don't stay up late round here.
+There ain't much to do."</p>
+
+<p>"But," protested his Lordship, "there's a story over this office. Surely
+you can arrange something for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you see it's this way," said the man. "There's two police
+officers and a journalist has reserved it for to-night, 'cause they's on
+the lookout for a batch of prisoners 'scaping to Canada. But if so be's
+you wouldn't mind sleeping in the refreshment-room, I could let you have
+a mattress, and make you up a tidy bed under the bar."</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop reflected that, though such quarters were hardly in keeping
+with the dignity of an episcopal prince, they were better than nothing,
+and as he was travelling incognito<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> it did not much matter. So he
+cheerfully accepted, and going out on the platform took a seat on the
+narrow wooden bench that ran along the front of the station, and lighted
+a cigar to while away the time till the preparations for his retirement
+were completed.</p>
+
+<p>It was pitch-dark outside, and the presence of three glimmering points
+of light were the only indication of any other occupants of the bench.
+But he rightly conjectured that the smokers were the policemen and the
+journalist of whom he had heard, and, having nothing better to do, he
+entered into conversation with them.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes," said Marchmont, for it was none other, "we've got a big job
+on hand to-night, sir, if we pull it off."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it uncertain, then?" asked the Bishop.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, of course we don't know which way they're coming. There was a
+sensational escape of a lot of Spanish spies from New York this noon.
+When I left we only knew they'd gone North. Since then they've been
+heard of near the Hudson River. Of course<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> it's practically certain
+they'll make for Montreal, as it's the nearest point at which they have
+a consul, and my knowledge of human nature leads me to think they'll
+take the most indirect route; so I came on here by the first train, and
+if we can catch them when the Express comes through to-night, it'll be a
+great scoop, and certain promotion for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Who compose the party?" asked his Lordship.</p>
+
+<p>"The whole thing seems to be rather mysterious," said the journalist.
+"There's a woman conspirator in it, and one or two men, but the identity
+of the leader, the man who planned the rescue and had the unparalleled
+audacity to represent himself as one of our reporters, is quite unknown
+to the police."</p>
+
+<p>"But you?" said the Bishop.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I," replied Marchmont, "of course I could hazard a guess as to his
+identity." And putting his hand before his mouth, so that his two
+companions should not hear his words, he added, with a tone of triumph
+in his voice: "There's not the remotest doubt in my mind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> that the young
+man who ran off with the Black Maria was none other than the Secretary
+of the Spanish Legation."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," said his Lordship, who was getting bored, "very interesting, I'm
+sure. I think I'll turn in now. Good-night." And a few minutes later he
+was safely ensconced under the bar and in the land of dreams, where Miss
+Matilda and a prison-van figured conspicuously.</p>
+
+<p>After an interval of time, the Bishop was sleepily conscious of the
+arrival of a train, accompanied by a certain amount of excitement, but
+it was not till several hours later, when dawn was just beginning to
+break, that he was rudely awakened by some one attempting to appropriate
+his resting-place. At the same moment he became conscious that a
+considerable uproar was going on in the station, and a voice from above,
+which he recognised as the journalist's, called out:</p>
+
+<p>"Say! One of that gang's in the bar! I saw him come up to the door as I
+was lying in bed!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Before the Bishop, however, became sufficiently wide awake to assimilate
+thoroughly these astonishing facts, the intruder, who was grotesquely
+armed with a can of hot coffee and a loaf of bread, deposited his
+burdens, and falling upon the recumbent ecclesiastic, proceeded to sit
+upon his head, forcing his face into the pillow, and rendering it
+impossible for him to utter a single sound. The half light and the
+suddenness of the attack had not permitted his Lordship to see the
+features of his aggressor. He had, however, no intention of submitting
+tamely to such an unpardonable outrage; and when the station-master and
+the two policemen, unaware of the proximity of the object of their
+pursuit, had rushed through the room and out at the back door, and the
+stranger, releasing the Bishop, was preparing to fly also, his Lordship,
+forgetful of the professions of peace which his calling assumed, smote
+the intruder lustily in the ribs. He received in return a smashing blow
+in the eye which made him see a multitude of stars, and before he could
+recover himself the stranger<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> had seized the coffee and the loaf and
+dashed through to the front of the station.</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop staggered to his feet, groping blindly about, while he heard
+the voice of the journalist, who was leaning over the banisters in night
+attire, calling vociferously to his companions that the man was escaping
+by the front.</p>
+
+<p>"Did he hurt you?" he asked of the Bishop.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied his Lordship, still blinded by the force of the blow.
+"But he got as good as he gave. I didn't have four years of athletics at
+the 'varsity for nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they're sure to catch him," said the journalist</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so," cried the Bishop, "for he richly deserves it."</p>
+
+<p>It is probable, however, that his Lordship would have modified his
+desire for vengeance had he known that his aggressor was his own son.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH A LINE IS DRAWN AND CROSSED.</h3>
+
+<p>"Say, are you asleep?" came the low voice of the tramp at the side of
+Banborough's berth in the early hours of the morning.</p>
+
+<p>The speaker stood in the aisle of the sleeper and was bending over him,
+half dressed, the contrast between the sleek outer garments of the
+Quaker and the rough underwear of the tramp giving him a most grotesque
+appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh? what?" said Cecil, rousing himself, and noting, as he did so, that
+it was still dark. A moment later he was fully awake, saying, as he sat
+up in his bunk: "Is anything the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid so. We've stopped here more'n ten minutes already, and we're
+scheduled to run through."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, what of it?" said the Englishman, somewhat testily, for he was
+very weary, and resented having his rest broken. "I suppose it's only a
+hot box."</p>
+
+<p>"Hot box be blowed! It's us they're after. If you looks round the corner
+of your curtain, you can see the cops on the platform."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil did as he was bidden, and, drawing back hastily, said:</p>
+
+<p>"You're right. I'm afraid the game is up. Where are we, anyway?"</p>
+
+<p>"If this is the station I take it to be, we're just on the line between
+the two countries. But whether our car's in Canady or the States is
+more'n I can tell."</p>
+
+<p>"Is there anything to be done?" asked Banborough, turning to Smith and
+Spotts, who at this moment quietly joined the Quaker at the Englishman's
+bedside.</p>
+
+<p>"Plenty," replied Spotts. "It's only a question of going North. Ten feet
+may mean the difference between a prison and the 'Windsor.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what shall we do?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Are you dressed?"</p>
+
+<p>"All but my boots and coat," answered Cecil. "I'm not enough of a
+gymnast to disrobe in a space six feet by two, and besides I thought
+something of this sort might occur."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, get into your boots, then, and don't make any more noise than
+necessary," said Spotts. "The ladies must be ready by this time. You
+were called last."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you going to make a bolt for it?" queried Banborough, as he put one
+foot out of bed.</p>
+
+<p>"Sh!" returned Spotts. "Not so loud! The officials out there on the
+platform are not sure that we're on board. My suggestion that Mrs.
+Mackintosh should buy the tickets was a lucky move, as she was not
+known. I'm going to pull the bell-cord as a sign to start, in the hopes
+that the engineer will get going before the conductor has time to
+reverse the signal, which means we'll run to the next station. If we
+don't succeed in pulling out, we'll just have to jump off and sprint for
+it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Go ahead," said Banborough. "I'll have my boots on by the time I want
+them."</p>
+
+<p>The actor took a cautious look round the sleeper. Quiet reigned, except
+for their own little party, who were by this time all gathered together,
+the ladies having joined them.</p>
+
+<p>"Now!" said Friend Othniel. And Spotts, reaching up, gave two sharp
+jerks to the cord which swung from the centre of the car.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly the air-brakes were relaxed, the engine gave forth a series of
+mighty exhausts, the great driving-wheels spun round for a second on the
+rails, then caught their grip, and the train began to move out of the
+station.</p>
+
+<p>A perfect pandemonium at once arose without. Shouts, gesticulations, and
+the waving of a multitude of lights, but the train still kept on moving,
+and the last car, in which the fugitives were, was sweeping past the
+station building, when the conductor, capless, but lantern in hand,
+emerged from the ticket-office and sprang for the rear platform of the
+train. A second later the quick jerk of the bell-cord<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> and an answering
+whistle from the engine told them that he had succeeded in boarding the
+train and signalling it to stop.</p>
+
+<p>The Quaker, forgetful of his cloth, swore lustily.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on!" cried Spotts, "we'll have to run for it. They'll back into
+the station in a minute, and then we're done for." And suiting the
+action to the word, he rushed down the car towards the front of the
+train. The rest followed him with the best speed they could muster,
+falling over boxes and bundles, getting entangled in stray shoes, and
+running foul of swinging porti&egrave;res. Fortunately the cars were
+vestibuled, so the platforms offered no impediment. The train seemed
+absolutely interminable, for as they dashed through sleeper after
+sleeper, one more always appeared ahead, and Banborough could not help
+feeling as he ran, hatless and in his shirt-sleeves, with his coat under
+his arm and one shoe-string untied, that the whole thing must after all
+be some wildly improbable dream from which he would awake in due
+course.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Now they felt the train stand still and then begin slowly to move
+backwards, which only hastened their flight. But there is an end to
+everything, and presently the last sleeper had been passed through, and
+they emerged, hot and breathless, into the baggage-car, immediately
+behind the engine. Here for the first time they found an open door, the
+vestibules having all been tightly closed.</p>
+
+<p>Spotts, who led the way, wasted no time in explanation, but making one
+dash at the burly baggage-master who confronted him, gave him a blow
+that sent him flying backwards. At the same instant he managed to trip
+up his assistant, causing the two men to come down on the floor
+together, bringing with them in their fall two bicycles and half a dozen
+crates of eggs.</p>
+
+<p>Grasping any light luggage he could seize, Friend Othniel added this to
+the heap, while Spotts, throwing open the great door in the side of the
+car, cried:</p>
+
+<p>"Jump for all you're worth!"</p>
+
+<p>Smith stood cowering on the edge of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> door-sill, little relishing the
+prospect of a wild leap into the night. But the Quaker, who had no time
+to waste on arguments, smashed down the top bicycle with one hand, thus
+placing his two opponents on their backs on the floor, and swinging
+round at the same moment, delivered a kick to the tragedian which sent
+him flying into outer darkness after the manner of a spread eagle.</p>
+
+<p>The train was only just moving, and Spotts sprang quickly to the ground,
+and, running alongside the car, called to Miss Arminster to jump into
+his arms, which she promptly did. Putting her to one side out of the
+reach of the train, he ran forward to receive Mrs. Mackintosh; but that
+good lady, being unaccustomed to such acrobatic feats, and arriving with
+more force than precision, completely bowled him over, and they went
+flying into space together. Banborough and Friend Othniel followed
+almost immediately, and, both trying to get out of the door at the same
+time, collided with considerable force, and performed a series of
+somersaults, landing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> with safety, but emphasis, in a potato-patch.</p>
+
+<p>As the engine swept by them, Cecil sat up and surveyed the scene. It
+certainly was an unusual situation, and the half-light of the early
+morning only served to make their attitudes the more grotesque. The
+party was scattered at large over the field in question. Smith, on one
+knee, was rubbing the bruised portions of his body. Miss Arminster, who
+had landed safely on her feet, was standing with both hands clasped to
+her head, an attitude suggesting concussion of the brain, but which in
+reality betokened nothing more dreadful than an utter disarrangement of
+her hair. Spotts had assumed an unconventional attitude at her feet,
+while the Quaker, face down, with hands and legs outspread, seemed to be
+trying to swim due north.</p>
+
+<p>Directly opposite the Englishman, seated erect and prim on what had once
+been a hill of potatoes, her bonnet perched rakishly on one ear, and her
+grey toup&eacute;e partially disarranged, hanging with its sustaining hairpins
+over her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> eyes, was Mrs. Mackintosh, firmly grasping in one hand her
+green silk parasol which she had never relinquished.</p>
+
+<p>As Banborough met her gaze, she demanded sternly:</p>
+
+<p>"What next, young man, I should like to know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Mrs. Mackintosh," he replied, "if for no other reason, you
+ought to be deeply indebted to me as a purveyor of new sensations."</p>
+
+<p>"This is not a time for levity, sir," remarked that lady sternly,
+dropping her parasol and hastily restoring her toup&eacute;e to its original
+position, "and I consider it perfectly disgraceful that you should cause
+a lady of my character to be arrested in a potato-patch at four o'clock
+in the morning!"</p>
+
+<p>"That's just what I've been endeavouring to prevent," he said. "I
+believe this to be Canada."</p>
+
+<p>"Then Canada's a very poor sort of a country," she replied snappishly.</p>
+
+<p>The others now approached them, and all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> eyes were turned to the
+railroad station a few hundred yards distant, which was alive with
+bobbing lanterns. Presently a cluster of lights detached itself from the
+rest and came towards them.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think they're going to arrest us?" asked Miss Arminster timidly.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you be afraid, miss," returned Friend Othniel. "You just let me
+run this circus, and I'll get you out all right and no mistake."</p>
+
+<p>The party now came up to them. It consisted of the station-master, the
+conductor, several trainmen, and the two policemen.</p>
+
+<p>"Here!" said the conductor. "What did you mean by pulling the cord and
+starting the train?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because we was anxious to see the beauties of Canady," replied the
+tramp.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, I thought as much," said one of the policemen.</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid," added the other, "we shall be obliged to persuade you and
+your party to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> stay in the United States for a while. You may consider
+yourselves under arrest."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank yer," said the tramp sweetly.</p>
+
+<p>"So, to save trouble," continued the officer, "you might as well come
+back quietly with us to the station."</p>
+
+<p>"Yah!" retorted the tramp. "'Will yer walk into my parlour?' said the
+spider to the fly. I knows that game, and I guess the climate o' Canady
+suits my constitution."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" replied the policeman. "You aren't over the border by about
+two miles."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, ain't we?" said the tramp. "Just oblige me, then, by putting them
+bracelets which I sees hangin' out o' your pocket on my wrists." And he
+held out his hands.</p>
+
+<p>The policeman looked sheepish, whispered something to his companion, and
+presently they turned their backs on the party and walked away in the
+direction of the station.</p>
+
+<p>"We's so stuck on this piece o' land," called Friend Othniel after them,
+"that we thinks o' farmin' it permanently. Come back and spend Christmas
+with us, won't yer?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The officers did not deign to notice these remarks, and a few moments
+later the train swept by them on its way to Montreal, the baggage-master
+and his assistant giving their views on the party in general as they
+passed.</p>
+
+<p>The day now really began to break in earnest, bringing with it a cold,
+damp chill, which seemed to penetrate to their very marrow. Spotts took
+off his coat and wrapped it around the shivering Violet&mdash;an act of
+chivalry which made Banborough curse his own thoughtlessness. But
+Spotts's endeavours to promote the comfort of the company did not end
+here. He roused Friend Othniel into action, and succeeded in collecting
+a little stubble and underbrush, and with the aid of a few matches they
+made an apology for a fire, round which the forlorn party huddled. But,
+damp with the early dews, the brush gave out more smoke than flame, only
+serving to emphasize their discomfort.</p>
+
+<p>The increasing light showed them something of their surroundings. At
+distances varying from a mile to a mile and a half a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> dilapidated
+dwellings peeped out of a fringe of woods. Everything else was
+pine-swamp, with the exception of the one small field of potatoes in
+which they were encamped, and which stood out as an oasis in the
+wilderness. Through the midst of the landscape straggled a muddy road,
+hopelessly impassable for foot-travellers. Certainly the outlook was not
+cheering.</p>
+
+<p>It was therefore with a feeling of positive relief that they perceived
+shambling towards them the uncouth figure of the station-master. He
+paused on the edge of the patch, with one hand embedded in his shock of
+hair, and the other grasping a large piece of chalk, and surveyed the
+party critically.</p>
+
+<p>"Say," he began after a few moments' silence, "them's my potatoes you're
+a-settin' on."</p>
+
+<p>The tramp growled something unintelligible, and the others vouchsafed no
+reply whatsoever.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess it must be purty damp out in that field," continued the
+station-master, "specially<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> for the ladies, and I thought as how I'd let
+yer know as I was a-makin' some coffee over to the station, and yer
+could come and get it if yer liked."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and get arrested into the bargain," said Spotts.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought of that," replied the man, "and so I've drawed a line onto
+the platform with this piece of chalk, jest where the boundary be, and
+so long as yer stays to the northard of it yer can't be ketched."</p>
+
+<p>"How are we to know that that is just the boundary?" asked Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"'Pears to me you're mighty 'spicious. Anyhow, thar's the line and
+thar's the coffee. Yer can take it or leave it, jest as yer likes."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd make it worth your while to bring it to us down here," said Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"Humph!" returned the maker of beverages. "I don't go totin' coffee all
+round the country, and I'd like to remind yer as potatoes ain't eggs and
+don't need no hatchin', so the sooner you gets through settin' on 'em<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>
+the better I'll be pleased." And turning his back he slouched away to
+the station.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think about it?" said Banborough to Spotts.</p>
+
+<p>"I think it's a plan," replied the actor. "A New England farmer never
+misses a chance of making a penny when he can do so, and that fellow
+would have been glad enough to sell his coffee to us at a fancy price
+anywhere we chose to drink it if he hadn't been offered more to entice
+us up to the station."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm not going to pass the rest of my days on top of a
+potato-hill," said Mrs. Mackintosh spitefully. "I'm so stiff now I can
+hardly move."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I don't think there's much to wait for," agreed Cecil. "But where
+shall we go?"</p>
+
+<p>"To the next station, I guess," said the tramp. "But in Canady that's as
+likely to be thirteen miles as it is two, and this track ain't ballasted
+for a walking-tour."</p>
+
+<p>The fair Violet heaved a deep sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked Banborough anxiously. "Don't you feel well?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I do feel a little faint," she replied, "but I dare say I'll be better
+in a minute. I shouldn't have sighed, only I was thinking what an old
+wretch that station-master is, and how good that coffee would have
+tasted."</p>
+
+<p>"You shall have some," he said, determined not to be outdone again by
+Spotts, "and I'll get it for you myself."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!" she protested. "I didn't mean that. I shouldn't have said it.
+I wouldn't have you go for worlds. You'd surely be arrested."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" he replied. "I think I can manage it and get back safely,
+and you and Mrs. Mackintosh must have something sustaining, for you've a
+long walk before you." And, in spite of all remonstrances, he prepared
+to set out on his delicate and dangerous mission.</p>
+
+<p>"What's your plan?" asked Friend Othniel, immensely interested now there
+was a chance of an adventure.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to crawl along in the dry ditch beside the railroad track
+till I get up to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> station, and then trust to luck. I used to be able
+to do a hundred yards in pretty decent time in my Oxford days, and if I
+can get into the refreshment-room without being seen, I don't think
+they'll catch me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, good luck to yer," said the tramp, "and if yer should come across
+a hunk of pumpkin pie, don't forget your friend Othniel."</p>
+
+<p>Banborough slipped off his overcoat, and donning a pair of heavy dogskin
+gloves, the property of the driver of the Black Maria, which the tramp
+produced, he watched his opportunity when no one was in sight at the
+station, and, cautioning the rest of the party not to betray by their
+actions that anything unusual was going on, stole across the open field
+and, dropping into the shallow ditch, began his perilous journey.</p>
+
+<p>Within three feet of the edge of the platform all means of concealment
+ceased; but feeling that a bold course was the only one which gave any
+hope of success, Cecil rose quickly, and, slipping across the exposed
+place in an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> instant, glided into the great woodshed which in that part
+of the world, where coal is expensive, forms an important adjunct to
+every station. He felt himself practically secure here, as no one was
+likely to come for logs so early in the morning; and after waiting for a
+few moments to make certain that his presence had not been discovered,
+he threw himself down on his face, and, crawling noiselessly on
+all-fours across the twenty feet of open platform which intervened
+between the woodshed and the main building, achieved the precarious
+shelter afforded by the side wall of the house. He then wormed himself
+forward till he was close to the front corner; and here his patient
+efforts were at last rewarded, for he heard a few scraps of a
+conversation which, had he been in a less dangerous position, would have
+afforded him infinite amusement.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you what it is," came the strident voice of the station-master.
+"It ain't no mortal manner of use. Why, they spotted me to onct; said
+how was they to know I drawed the line correct."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ha!" said one of the policemen. "Couldn't you go out and dicker with
+them some more?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nope," rejoined the other shortly. "And there's that whole tin o'
+coffee in the back room goin' to waste, and I guess they'd have paid
+more'n a dollar for it."</p>
+
+<p>"Where's Mr. Marchmont?" asked the second speaker, a remark which caused
+Banborough considerable surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"He's been keepin' out o' the way o' them Spaniards," said the
+station-master, "lest they should get a sight of him, 'cause he may have
+to shadow 'em in Canady, and he don't want 'em to get on to who he is.
+He's gone upstairs now to get a snooze, an' that's where I'm goin', too.
+There ain't no train for three hours, and I've had enough o' this durned
+foolishness."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" cried the policeman, as a sharp sound smote their ears.</p>
+
+<p>"Tain't nothin' but the back door slammin'," replied the other. "I must
+ha' forgot to latch it. The wind's riz a bit."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said the officer, "and it's going to rain presently."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I'd better go and shet that door."</p>
+
+<p>"No, you stay here; I want to talk to you. We'll let them get thoroughly
+drenched, and you can offer them the hospitality of the woodshed. Maybe
+we could alter the boundary-line a few feet in the interests of
+justice."</p>
+
+<p>Banborough waited to hear no more, but, drawing softly back, sprang to
+his feet and ran noiselessly along the side of the house and round to
+the unlatched door behind. Now, if ever, was his chance. He dashed into
+a room which seemed to be a combination of kitchen and bar, but on the
+stove stood a steaming tin can of savoury coffee, while among the
+bottles on the shelf, just showing out of its paper wrappings, was a
+goodly loaf of white bread. Had he left well alone, and been satisfied
+with the coffee, he would have been all right; but the bread tempted
+him, and to obtain possession of it he must go behind the bar. This he
+hastened to do, unlatching the little swinging gate at the end, when a
+scuffling sound<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> from the room above gave place to heavy foot-falls on
+the boards, and a moment later Marchmont called down the stairs which
+evidently led into the front room:</p>
+
+<p>"Say! One of that gang's in the bar! I saw him come up to the door as I
+was lying in bed!" A bit of information which was instantly followed by
+a clatter of chairs on the front platform.</p>
+
+<p>Wedged in behind the bar, Banborough felt himself trapped. But a happy
+inspiration seizing him, he possessed himself of the can of coffee and,
+with the loaf of bread in his other hand, crawled under the protecting
+shelf, while just at that moment a particularly strong gust of wind blew
+the unlatched door wide open, banging it back against the wall.</p>
+
+<p>To his intense astonishment, Cecil found his hiding-place already
+occupied by the recumbent and sleeping form of a man, and, jumping to
+the conclusion that he must be either a policeman or a detective, he
+promptly sat upon his head with a view to suppressing any inopportune
+remarks. A second later three men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> rushed into the room, and Banborough
+held his breath. But luck was with him, for one glance at the empty
+stove and the open door satisfied the station-master, who cried:</p>
+
+<p>"Those fellows has bolted with the coffee!" and dashed out at the back,
+followed by the policemen.</p>
+
+<p>In a second Cecil was up and out of the bar, but not before he had
+received a smashing blow in the ribs from the stranger he had so rudely
+awakened. He promptly struck out in return, and from the sputtering and
+thrashing sounds which emanated from under the shelf he judged that his
+blow had gone home.</p>
+
+<p>Snatching up the coffee and the bread, he dashed through to the front of
+the house, and, emerging on the platform, saw a sight which filled his
+heart with joy. On the track stood one of those little flat cars,
+employed by section-men, which is propelled by means of a wheel and
+crank in the centre turned by hand, on the same principle as a
+velocipede.</p>
+
+<p>He sprang upon it, deposited his precious burden, and began turning the
+crank with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> feverish energy. To his joy, the car at once started
+forward, and under his well-directed pressure went rattling out of the
+station, shooting by his three astonished pursuers as they rounded the
+corner of the woodshed. Two minutes later he arrived in triumph at the
+potato-patch, being warmly welcomed by his admiring companions, who
+forthwith fell to and made a satisfying, if frugal, meal.</p>
+
+<p>Just as they were finishing, the station-master came up, and, being
+rendered thoroughly amiable by a liberal recompense for the stolen
+viands, so far forgot himself, in his appreciation of Banborough's
+pluck, as to admit that there was no objection to their taking the flat
+car on to the next station, provided they could square it with the
+superintendent on arrival, as there were no trains due either way.</p>
+
+<p>"How far is the next station?" asked Cecil, as the party clambered on to
+the car.</p>
+
+<p>"About twelve miles," said Miss Arminster.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know it?" asked Banborough,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> still glowing under her praises of
+his prowess.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes," she replied softly. "I was married there last June."</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman, muttering something under his breath, seized the handles
+and, giving them a vicious turn, sent the car spinning northwards.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH A LOCKET IS ACCEPTED AND A RING REFUSED.</h3>
+
+<p>Something over a week after the events narrated in the last chapter,
+Banborough was lounging in the office of the Windsor Hotel at Montreal.
+The course of events had run more smoothly for the party since the day
+they arrived in the city, weary and travel-stained with their
+adventurous trip. Montreal in general, and the manager of the Windsor in
+particular, were accustomed to see travellers from the States appear in
+all sorts of garbs and all kinds of conditions incident to a hasty
+departure, so their coming occasioned little comment; and as Cecil never
+did things by halves, they were soon rehabilitated and installed in the
+best apartments the hotel could offer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The various members of the party, after the first excitement was over,
+had relapsed into a listless existence, which, however, was destined to
+be rudely disturbed, for while the Englishman's thoughts were wandering
+in anything but a practical direction, he was aroused from his reverie
+by a well-known voice, and, turning, found himself face to face with
+Marchmont.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, who on earth would have thought of seeing you here?" exclaimed
+the journalist. "Have you fled to Canada to escape being lionised?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Banborough cautiously, "not exactly for that reason."</p>
+
+<p>"We couldn't imagine what had become of you," continued his friend.
+"You're the hero of the hour in New York, I can tell you, and 'The
+Purple Kangaroo' is achieving the greatest success of the decade."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, confound 'The Purple Kangaroo&mdash;'!"</p>
+
+<p>"That's right; run it down. Your modesty becomes you. But seriously, old
+man, let me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> congratulate you. You must be making heaps out of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Let's talk about something else," said Banborough wearily, for he was
+heartily sick of his unfortunate novel. "You ask me why I'm here. I'll
+return the compliment. Why are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why," returned Marchmont, "you're partially to blame for it, you know.
+I'm after those Spanish conspirators. Of course you've heard the story?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Banborough. "I haven't been in town for a fortnight. What is
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we arrested a lovely se&ntilde;orita on Fourteenth Street who was using
+the title of your novel as a password. I can tell you confidentially
+that there's no doubt that she's one of the cleverest and most
+unscrupulous female spies in the Spanish secret service; and while they
+were deciding where to take her, a stranger, who we're certain was one
+of the Secretaries of their Legation, eloped with her, Black Maria and
+all, with the recklessness of a true hidalgo. They were joined by a
+band<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> outside the city, where they overcame a Justice of the Peace who
+arrested them, after a desperate resistance on his part. The story of
+this unequal battle was one of the finest bits of bravery we've had for
+years.</p>
+
+<p>"After dining at a hotel at Yonkers they held up the waiter with
+revolvers and escaped. Similar audacities were perpetrated at the
+boundary-line between the United States and Canada, and in spite of the
+most intelligent and valiant efforts on the part of the police, aided by
+our own special corps of detectives, they've so far eluded us. Their
+leader's said to be a perfect devil, who, as I tell you, is certainly a
+Secretary of the Spanish Legation."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know that?" asked Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," said Marchmont, looking wise and shaking his head, "the <i>Daily
+Leader</i> has private sources of information. I wonder you've not heard
+anything of this."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," acquiesced the Englishman, "it <i>is</i> curious, isn't it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But," continued his friend, "you haven't told me yet why you came to
+Montreal."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Cecil, laughing, "I can at least assure you that my trip
+here has been much less eventful than the one you described."</p>
+
+<p>"By the way," said the journalist, "have you seen the last editorial
+about your book in the <i>Daily Leader</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"No? Well, here goes." And Marchmont began to read forthwith:</p>
+
+<p>"'English conservatism has recently received a shock from the scion of
+Blanford, and the Bishop's son, in connection with 'The Purple
+Kangaroo,' has caused the British lion to hump himself into the hotbed
+of American politics&mdash;'"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, shut up!" said Cecil, with more force than politeness.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you like it?" exclaimed the journalist. "There's a column and a
+half more. I blue-pencilled a copy and sent it over to your old man."</p>
+
+<p>Banborough groaned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But," continued Marchmont, "this isn't anything to what we'll do when
+we've hounded the Dons out of Canada."</p>
+
+<p>"What?" cried the author.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," went on his friend. "We've complained to your Foreign Office, and
+within a week every Spanish conspirator will receive notice to quit Her
+Majesty's North American colonies on pain of instant arrest and
+deportation."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil waited to hear no more, but, pleading an imperative engagement,
+rushed away to summon the members of his party to a hurried council of
+war in their private sitting-room. All were present with the exception
+of Miss Arminster, who had gone to spend the day at a convent in the
+suburbs, where she had been brought up as a child.</p>
+
+<p>After an hour of useless debating the council ended, as Banborough might
+have foreseen from the first, in the party giving up any solution of the
+problem as hopeless, and putting themselves unreservedly in his hands to
+lead them out of their difficulties. Cecil, who felt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> himself ill
+equipped for the r&ocirc;le of a Moses, jammed his hat on his head, lit his
+pipe, and, thrusting his hands in his pockets, said he was going out
+where he could be quiet and think about it.</p>
+
+<p>"Going to the Blue Nunnery, he means," said Smith, laughing, and nudging
+Spotts.</p>
+
+<p>The actor grunted. Apparently the author's attentions to the fascinating
+Violet did not meet with his unqualified approval.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later Banborough stood in the grey old garden of the nunnery,
+the sister who was his guide silently pointing out to him the figure of
+the little actress, whose bright garments were in striking contrast to
+the severe simplicity of her surroundings. When the Englishman turned to
+thank the nun, she had disappeared, and he and Miss Arminster had the
+garden to themselves.</p>
+
+<p>She stood with her back to him, bending over some roses, unconscious of
+his presence, and for a few moments he remained silent, watching her
+unobserved. The ten days which had passed had done much to alter his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>
+position towards her, and he had come to fully realise that he was
+honestly in love with this woman. Even the fact of her having been
+married at Ste. Anne de Beau Pr&eacute;, which information he had elicited from
+her on the occasion of their pilgrimage to that shrine a few days
+before, had not served to cool his ardour. Indeed, the fact that his
+suit seemed hopeless made him all the more anxious to win her for his
+wife.</p>
+
+<p>After he had been watching her for some minutes, a subtle intuition
+seemed to tell her of his presence, and he approached her as she raised
+her face from the roses to greet him.</p>
+
+<p>"I came to see you&mdash;" he began, and paused, hardly knowing how to
+continue.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I not then allowed even one holiday?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Is my presence so much of a burden?" he inquired, realising for the
+first time the full force of what her statement implied, as a hurried
+mental review of the past fortnight showed him that he had scarcely ever
+been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> absent from her side. Indeed, it no longer seemed natural not to
+be with her.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I didn't mean to be rude," she said, "but I do like a day out of
+the world occasionally. You know, when I come back here I forget for the
+time that I've ever lived any other life than that which is associated
+with this dear old place."</p>
+
+<p>He thought grimly that a young lady who had been married four times
+before she was twenty-five must have to undergo a considerable amount of
+mental obliteration.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you'd tire of it very soon if you had to live here always," he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not sure," she replied. "I think&mdash;but of course you wouldn't
+understand that&mdash;only, life on the stage isn't all bright and amusing,
+and there are times when one simply longs for a quiet, old-world place
+like this."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you'd like Blanford," he suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"I should love it," she assured him. "But what would your father say to
+me? I'd probably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> shock him out of his gaiters&mdash;if he wears them. Does
+he?"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose so," said Cecil. The fact was that the raiment of the Bishop
+of Blanford did not particularly interest him at that moment. He had
+more important things to talk about, things that had no connection
+whatsoever with the immediate future of the A.&nbsp;B.&nbsp;C. Company. Yet the
+mention of his father caused him to stop and think, and thought, in this
+case, proved fatal to sentiment. He thrust his hands into his pockets
+and addressed himself to the more prosaic topics of life, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"My excuse for intruding on you is that our troubles are by no means
+over. The authorities, not content with driving us out of the United
+States, are preparing to order us out of Canada as well, and the
+question of where we are to go is decidedly perplexing."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear!" said the little woman, "I think I'll go into the convent
+after all."</p>
+
+<p>"That settles the difficulty as far as you're concerned. Do you think
+they'd admit me?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Don't talk nonsense. What do the others say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they say a good many things, but nothing practical, so I came to
+you for advice."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, to speak frankly," she replied, "if I were you, I'd drop us all
+and run away home. It's much the easiest solution of the difficulty."</p>
+
+<p>"Excuse me," he said. "I'm a gentleman, and besides&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Besides," he continued, thinking it better to be discreet, "I doubt if
+I should be welcome. I've a letter from the governor in my pocket, which
+I haven't yet had courage to open. I dare say it won't be pleasant
+reading; besides which, it's been chasing me round the country for the
+last five or six weeks, and must be rather ancient history."</p>
+
+<p>"Look at it and see," she advised. "They may be ready to kill the fatted
+calf for you, after all."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid they do regard me rather in the light of a prodigal," he
+admitted. "However,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> here goes." And breaking the seal of the envelope,
+he read the letter aloud:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 42em;">"<span class="smcap">The Palace, Blanford</span>.</span>
+</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Son</span>:</p>
+
+<p>"Do you realise that it is nearly a year since your Aunt Matilda
+and I have received news of you? This has been a source of great
+grief and pain to both of us, but it has not moved me to anger. It
+has rather caused me to devote such hours as I could spare from
+the preparation of my series of sermons on the miracle of Jonah to
+personal introspection, in the endeavour to discover, if possible,
+whether the cause of our estrangement lay in any defect of my own.</p>
+
+<p>"It may be that you achieve a certain degree of spiritual
+enlightenment in producing a book entitled 'The Purple Kangaroo.'
+I hope so, though I have not read it. Nor do I wholly agree with
+your good aunt, who contends that the title savours too much of
+the Apocrypha, and I say nothing of the undesirable popularity you
+seem to have attained in the United States. I only ask you to come
+home.</p>
+
+<p>"As a proof of her reconciliation, your aunt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> included a copy of
+your book in her last mission box to the Ojibway Indians. I shall
+always be glad to receive and make welcome any of your friends at
+the palace, no matter how different their tastes and principles
+may be to my own well-defined course of action.</p>
+
+<p>"In the hope of better things,</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 42em;">"<span class="smcap">Your affectionate Father</span>."</span>
+</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you'll go," Violet said softly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know about that," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>"I do," she returned. "It's your duty. What a dear old chap he must
+be!&mdash;so thoroughly prosy and honest. I'm sure I should love him. I know
+just the sort of man he is. A downright Nonconformist minister of the
+midland counties, who was consecrated a Bishop by mistake."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil paused a minute, thinking it over.</p>
+
+<p>"How about the others?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes," she replied, "the others. But perhaps you don't class them as
+your friends."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it isn't that," he answered. "Only I was wondering&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"What the Bishop would say?" she asked,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> looking at him with a roguish
+smile. "Well, why not take him at his word and find out."</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "I will! I believe you've hit on the very best
+possible solution of our difficulty. The episcopal palace at Blanford is
+absolutely the last place in the world where any one would think of
+looking for a political conspirator, and, by some freak of fortune, the
+police are entirely ignorant that I'm in any way connected with your
+flight."</p>
+
+<p>"Good! then it's settled!" she cried. "And we'll all accompany you."</p>
+
+<p>"Ye-es, only the governor wouldn't go within a hundred yards of a
+theatre, and my aunt calls actors children of&mdash;I forget whom&mdash;some one
+in the Old Testament."</p>
+
+<p>"Belial," suggested Miss Arminster.</p>
+
+<p>"That's it. How did you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"You forget," she said, "I was brought up in a convent."</p>
+
+<p>"It'll never do," he continued, "for them to suspect who you really
+are."</p>
+
+<p>"Are we not actors?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. We must have a dress rehearsal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> at once, and cast you for
+your parts. But there's Friend Othniel&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes," she said. "He's impossible."</p>
+
+<p>"We must drop him somehow."</p>
+
+<p>"That's easily managed," she replied. "Pay his hotel bill, and leave him
+a note with a nice little cheque in it to be delivered after we've
+gone."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we must get away quickly, or he'll suspect."</p>
+
+<p>"The sooner the better."</p>
+
+<p>"I noticed that there was a ship sailing from Montreal for England this
+afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"That'll just suit our purpose," she said. "Friend Othniel told me he
+was going to walk up Mount Royal after lunch and wouldn't be back before
+six."</p>
+
+<p>"And you'll really come to Blanford?" he asked, taking her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," she said. "Why should you doubt it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because," he replied, "it seems too good to be true. I was thinking,
+hoping, that perhaps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> I might persuade you to come there for good, and
+never go away."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," she interrupted him, "you're not going to say that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Because we've been such friends," she answered, "and it's quite
+impossible."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perfectly. And oh, I didn't want you to say it."</p>
+
+<p>"But can't we be friends still?" he insisted.</p>
+
+<p>"With all my heart, if you'll forget this mad dream. It would have been
+impossible, even if I were free. Your people would never have accepted
+me, and I would only have been a drag on you."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!" he denied vehemently.</p>
+
+<p>"There," she said, "we won't talk about it. You've been one of the best
+friends I ever had, and&mdash;what's in that locket you wear?"</p>
+
+<p>"That?" he replied, touching a little blue-enamelled case that hung from
+his watch-chain. "It has nothing more interesting in it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> at present than
+a picture of myself. But I'd hoped&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Give it to me, will you," she asked, "in remembrance of to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>He detached it silently from his chain, and, pressing it to his lips,
+placed it in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll always wear it," she said.</p>
+
+<p>There was an awkward silence for a moment, and then, pulling himself
+together, he remarked brusquely:</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose we'd better be starting for town."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll join you later," she replied. "I want to go to mid-day service in
+the little church next to this convent. Such a pretty little church. I
+was married there once."</p>
+
+<p>"You were what? Are you really serious, Miss Arminster?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perfectly," she answered, giving him a bewitching little smile as she
+tripped out of the garden.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="PART_II" id="PART_II"></a>PART II.</h2>
+
+<h2><i>ENGLAND</i>.</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH MRS. MACKINTOSH ADMIRES JONAH.</h3>
+
+<p>"I think, Matilda, that you must have neglected to put any sugar in my
+tea," said the Bishop of Blanford, pushing his cup towards his sister,
+after tasting the first mouthful.</p>
+
+<p>"You're quite right, Josephus, I did," she replied.</p>
+
+<p>"And," continued his Lordship, who, being near-sighted, was poking
+about, after the manner of a mole, in the three-storied brass bird-cage
+which held the more substantial portion of the repast, "there doesn't
+seem to be any cake."</p>
+
+<p>"You forget," said Miss Matilda sternly, "that it's an ember-day."</p>
+
+<p>Her brother said nothing, and took a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> mouthful of the tea, which, like
+the morality of the palace, was strong and bitter. But his ample chest
+expanded with just the slightest sigh of regret, causing the massive
+episcopal cross of gold filigree, set with a single sapphire, which
+rested thereon, to rise and fall gently. Miss Matilda's hawklike eye saw
+and noted this as the first slight sign of rebellion, and she hastened
+to mete out justice swift and stern, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"You remember, Josephus, that there's a special service at the mission
+church at five, at which I consider you ought to be present."</p>
+
+<p>His Lordship had not forgotten it, or the circumstance that the
+afternoon was exceedingly hot, and that the mission church, which was
+situated in an outlying slum, was made of corrugated tin. The palace
+garden would have been infinitely preferable, and he knew that had he
+accepted sugarless tea without a murmur, his chaplain would have
+sweltered in his place. As it was, he submitted meekly, and his sister
+gazed at him with a satisfied expression<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> of triumph across her bright
+green tea-cloth. If Miss Matilda had a weakness, it was for
+ecclesiastical tea-cloths. White was reserved for Sundays and
+feast-days; on ordinary occasions, at this time of the year, her ritual
+prescribed green.</p>
+
+<p>They were seated in the garden of the palace, a peaceful Arcadia which
+it was difficult to realise was only separated from a dusty and concrete
+world by a battlemented wall which formed the horizon. The sky overhead
+was so blue and cloudless that it might have formed the background for
+an Italian landscape, and framed against it was the massive tower of the
+cathedral, its silver-greys darkening almost to black, as a buttress
+here and there brought it in shadow. Among its pinnacles a few wise old
+rooks flapped lazily in the still air, as much a part of their
+surroundings as the stately swans that floated on the stream which
+lapped the foot of the tower, while on all sides there stretched away a
+great sweep of that perfect verdure which only England knows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It's nearly two months since I last wrote to Cecil," said the Bishop,
+judging it wise to change the trend of the conversation, "and I've not
+heard a word."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure I should be surprised if you had," snapped Miss Matilda. "And
+what your sainted Sarah would have felt, had she lived to see her son's
+disgraceful career, makes me shudder."</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop started to sigh again. Then, thinking better of it, stopped.
+He had returned to Blanford from his rest-cure a week before, and
+apparently the air of Scotland had not proved as beneficial as he had
+expected.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe that Cecil will come back to us," he said, ignoring his
+sister's last remark. "I told him that his friends would be welcome here
+in future, and I particularly mentioned that you'd put a copy of his
+book in your last missionary box."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you didn't neglect to say that I tore out all the pictures. A
+more scandalous collection&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But she never finished her denunciation of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> the novel, for just at that
+moment the Bishop sprang to his feet with a glad cry of "Cecil!"</p>
+
+<p>The young man came running across the lawn to meet his father, seizing
+him warmly by the hand, and having administered a dutiful peck to his
+aunt, turned to introduce the little group of strangers who had
+accompanied him.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," he said, "these are my friends. On the strength of your letter
+I've taken the liberty of asking them to be my guests as well."</p>
+
+<p>"They're very welcome to the palace," said the Bishop.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil turned, and leading the two ladies forward, presented them to his
+father and his aunt. Miss Matilda swept them both with a comprehensive
+glance, and addressing Mrs. Mackintosh, remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"Your daughter, I presume," indicating Miss Arminster. Whereupon the
+good lady coloured violently and denied the fact.</p>
+
+<p>"Your niece?" insisted Miss Matilda, who was an excellent catechist, as
+generations of unfortunate children could bear witness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"A young lady whom I'm chaperoning in Europe," replied Mrs. Mackintosh
+stiffly, in an effort to be truthful, and at the same time to furnish
+Violet with a desirable status in the party.</p>
+
+<p>The tragedian was now brought forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Allow me," said Banborough, in pursuance of a prearranged scheme of
+action&mdash;"allow me to introduce my friend Professor Tybalt Smith. You,
+father, are of course acquainted with his scholarly work on monumental
+brasses."</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop naturally was not conversant with the book in question,
+because it had never been written, but he was entirely too pedantic to
+admit the fact; so he smiled, and congratulated the Professor most
+affably on what he termed "his well-known attainments," assuring him
+that he would find in the cathedral a rich field of research in his
+particular line of work.</p>
+
+<p>Spotts was now brought up, and introduced as a rising young architect of
+ecclesiastical<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> tendencies, which delighted his Lordship immensely as
+there was nothing he liked better than to explain every detail of his
+cathedral to an appreciative listener.</p>
+
+<p>"I've a bit of old dog-tooth I shall want you to look at to-morrow,"
+said his host, "and there's some Roman tiling in the north transept that
+absolutely demands your attention."</p>
+
+<p>Spotts smiled assent, but was evidently bewildered, and seizing the
+first opportunity that offered, asked Cecil in a low voice if his father
+took him for a dentist or a mason.</p>
+
+<p>"For a dentist or a mason?" queried Banborough. "I don't understand."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, anyway, he said something about looking after his old dog's teeth
+and attending to his tiles."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil exploded in a burst of laughter, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"That's only the architectural jargon, man. You must play the game."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I see," said the actor. "It's about his ramshackle old church.
+Well, I'll do my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> best&mdash;" But his assurances were cut short by the flow
+of his Lordship's conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"As I was saying, Mr. Spotts," he continued, "I should be much
+interested to hear your American views on the subject of a clerestory."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure," replied the actor, plunging recklessly. "I always believe in
+having four clear stories at least, and in New York and Chicago we run
+'em up as high as&mdash;" But here a premonitory kick from Cecil brought his
+speech to an abrupt termination.</p>
+
+<p>"Most astonishing," commented his Lordship. "I've never heard of more
+than one."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, our Western churches are chock-full of new wrinkles."</p>
+
+<p>"Of new&mdash;what? I don't understand. Another cup' of tea for you, Mrs.
+Mackintosh? Certainly. We must pursue this subject at leisure, Mr.
+Spotts."</p>
+
+<p>The party now turned their attention to the repast, and the Bishop
+proceeded to devote himself to Mrs. Mackintosh.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid," he said, when he had seen her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> sufficiently fortified with
+tea containing a due allowance of sugar, and supplemented by a plateful
+of cake which he had ordered to be brought as a practical substitute for
+the scriptural calf&mdash;"I'm afraid you will find our simple life at
+Blanford very dull."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear sakes, no!" said that lady, hitching her chair up closer to the
+Bishop for a confidential chat&mdash;an action on her part which elicited a
+flashing glance of disapproval from Miss Matilda.</p>
+
+<p>"I've heard all about you," she went on, "from your son Cecil. You don't
+mind if I call him Cecil, do you? for I'm almost old enough to be his
+mother. Well, as I was saying, when he told me about the cathedral and
+the beeches and the rooks and you, all being here, hundreds of years
+old&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Excuse me, madam," said his Lordship, "I'm hardly as aged as that."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I didn't mean you, stupid! How literal you English are!"</p>
+
+<p>It is highly probable that in all the sixty years of his well-ordered
+existence the Bishop<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> of Blanford had never been called "stupid" by
+anybody. He gasped, and the episcopal cross, and even the heavy gold
+chain by which it depended from his neck, were unduly agitated. Then he
+decided that he liked it, and determined to continue the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"When I thought of all that," said Mrs. Mackintosh, "I said to your son:
+'Cecil,' said I, 'your father's like that old board fence in my back
+yard; he needs a coat of whitewash to freshen him up, and I'm going over
+to put it on.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Cromwell," remarked the Bishop, "applied enough whitewash to Blanford
+to last it for several centuries. Indeed, we've not succeeded in
+restoring all the frescoes yet."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense, man," said Mrs. Mackintosh, "you don't see the point at all.
+Now what do you take when your liver's out of order?"</p>
+
+<p>"Really, madam," faltered the Bishop, thoroughly aghast at this new turn
+in the conversation, "I&mdash;er&mdash;generally consult my medical adviser."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you shouldn't!" said Mrs. Mackintosh<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> with determination. "You
+should take what we call in my country a pick-me-up. Now I said to your
+son: 'I'm going to be a mental and moral pick-me-up for your father.
+What he needs is a new point of view. If you don't take care, he'll
+fossilise, and you'll have to put him in the British Museum.'"</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop's reflections during this conversation were many and varied.
+What he was pleased to term his inner moral consciousness told him he
+ought to be shocked at its flippancy; the rest of his mental make-up was
+distinctly refreshed. Besides, a certain tension in the social
+atmosphere suggested that Miss Matilda was about to go forth to battle,
+so he smiled graciously, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"It's certainly very considerate of you to undertake all this on my
+account, but I should not like to be in any one's debt, and I hardly see
+how I can repay my obligations."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm just coming to that," said Mrs. Mackintosh. "I don't say that I
+shouldn't be doing a Christian act by taking you in hand, but I'm free
+to admit that I've a personal interest in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> the matter, for you're the
+one man in England I most wanted to meet."</p>
+
+<p>"But what can there possibly be about me&mdash;" began the Bishop.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't about you," replied his guest. "It's about Jonah."</p>
+
+<p>"Josephus," broke in the harsh voice of his sister, "the bell of the
+mission chapel has been ringing for some time."</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop drew a long breath and formed a mighty resolve. At last he
+had met a person who took an intelligent interest in Jonah, a Biblical
+character to whose history he had devoted exhaustive research. It was a
+golden opportunity not to be let slip. So, turning to his sister and
+looking her squarely in the eyes, he replied boldly that he was quite
+aware of the fact.</p>
+
+<p>"If you do not go at once you'll be late," remarked that lady.</p>
+
+<p>"I've not the slightest intention of going at all," said the Bishop.
+"I'm talking to Mrs. Mackintosh, who is, it seems, much interested in
+Jonah."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>There came a sound as of spluttering from the upraised tea-cup of
+Professor Tybalt Smith, and Miss Matilda gave a distinctly aggressive
+sniff.</p>
+
+<p>"If you're not going, Josephus," she retorted, "I must send word to one
+of the chaplains, though after what you had said I naturally&mdash;" But
+there she paused, arrested by the incredible fact that for the first
+time in her experience her brother was not listening to what she was
+saying. Her silence commanded his attention.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," he replied, looking up vacantly, "do what you think proper," and
+turned again to Mrs. Mackintosh, who proceeded placidly with her theme.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," she said, "you hear a lot about seeing with the eye of
+faith, but I like to see with the eye of understanding, too, and I never
+yet sat under a preacher who was what I should call 'up to Jonah.' I
+read your book when it came out. It was one of the prizes they offered
+for selling on commission fifty packets of Tinker's Tannin Tea, and I've
+been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> wild to meet you ever since. I have been a-whaling, so to speak,
+for years, but I expect you to carry me safely into port."</p>
+
+<p>"Madam," said the Bishop, "you overwhelm me." He was immensely flattered
+by her appreciative, if outspoken, commendation. "I'm now," he
+continued, "at work on a set of supplementary sermons on this very
+subject; and if it wouldn't be imposing too much on your good nature to
+let me read them to you, or parts of them&mdash;they embrace some six hundred
+pages."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mackintosh looked at him regretfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't there any more than that?" she said. "I wanted three volumes at
+least."</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop beamed with gratification.</p>
+
+<p>"I trust," he replied, "that they'll be worthy of your attention. But my
+treatment of the subject is&mdash;er&mdash;slightly doctrinal, and perhaps you're
+not a member of the Church of England."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, no," said Mrs. Mackintosh. "I can't say as I am. I was baptised a
+Methodist,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> brought up in a Roman Catholic convent, finished at a
+Presbyterian boarding-school, and married before a Justice of the Peace
+to a Unitarian, and since I've been a widow I've attended a Baptist
+church regularly; but I don't believe I'd mind a few weeks of an
+Episcopalian, specially seeing he's a Bishop, which I haven't
+experienced before."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall endeavour to do my best, madam," said his Lordship. "Perhaps I
+may even lead you&mdash;in time&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I shouldn't be surprised but what you might," replied Mrs.
+Mackintosh, "but I mustn't take up all your time. I want you to know my
+little friend Miss Arminster. She's one of the nicest girls that ever
+was."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be delighted," said his Lordship. "Arminster," he continued
+reflectively. "Does she come from the Arminsters of Shropshire?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mackintosh laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure I don't know," she replied, "but from the way her friends
+speak of her, you'd think she came from Noah's Ark."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Dear me!" said the Bishop. "That's very curious."</p>
+
+<p>"They call her the Leopard," she went on, "and I must say for my part
+that I'm 'most as fond of the Leopard as I am of Jonah's whale." And she
+rose and joined the group about the tea-table, for she did not wish to
+try Miss Matilda's patience too far.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what you'll think of our quiet life. I fear it'll seem
+very strange to you," said his Lordship, addressing himself to Miss
+Arminster.</p>
+
+<p>"I think it'll be jolly," she replied promptly, looking up at him
+playfully to see whether he would bear chaffing, "and," she added, after
+due deliberation, "I think you're a dear, and your uniform is just
+sweet. I always did love a uniform. I used to be awfully gone, as a
+child, on a policeman at the corner of our block, but you're much more
+nicely dressed than he was."</p>
+
+<p>His Lordship started to say something crushing in regard to the sanctity
+of ecclesiastical trappings, but another glance at the bewitching<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>
+little figure that confronted him caused him to remark instead that he
+was glad she approved of him, and that he would try to take better care
+of her than even a guardian of the law.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm afraid I've said something shocking!" she exclaimed in a
+delightfully na&iuml;ve manner, "and I did mean to be so good and decorous.
+I'm sure I'll need a lot of teaching."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be delighted to undertake the task," he replied gallantly.
+"Suppose we begin by going to evensong. Would you like to do so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rather," she returned; "but I'm afraid," looking at her
+travelling-costume, "that I'm hardly dressed for the part&mdash;I mean the
+occasion."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me!" said the Bishop, scrutinizing her keenly, "it seems to be a
+very pretty gown."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's all right," she said. "Then we'll go at once."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"So we shall," he replied, "and you shall sit in the stalls."</p>
+
+<p>"How jolly!" she exclaimed. "I almost always have to sit in the
+balcony."</p>
+
+<p>"Really?" said his Lordship. "You don't say so. But from what Mr. Spotts
+says, I should judge that the architecture of American churches was
+novel." And they walked across the lawn to the cathedral.</p>
+
+<p>A few moments later, Miss Matilda, having dismissed her guests to their
+rooms, found herself alone with her nephew.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she said, turning on him sharply, "perhaps at last you'll
+condescend to tell me who these <i>friends</i> of yours are?"</p>
+
+<p>"They're a party of ladies and gentlemen with whom I've been travelling
+in America," Cecil replied. "And as we'd agreed to join forces for the
+rest of the summer, I'd no option but to invite them here as my guests.
+The gentlemen I've already introduced to you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the gentlemen!" snapped his aunt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> "I've no concern about them.
+It's the women I&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The ladies, Aunt Matilda."</p>
+
+<p>"The ladies, then. Your father, in what he is pleased to call his
+wisdom, has seen fit to allow you to introduce these persons into his
+house. I'm sure I hope he won't regret it! But I must insist on knowing
+something about the people whom I'm entertaining."</p>
+
+<p>"As I've told you already," he replied very quietly, "they're ladies
+whom I've met in America. I might also add that they've good manners and
+are uniformly courteous."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Matilda tilted her nose till its tip pointed straight at the spire
+of the cathedral, and, without any reply, swept past him into the house.</p>
+
+<p>Dinner, that night, in spite of his aunt's efforts to the contrary, was
+an unqualified success. The Bishop hailed with joy any interruption in
+the monotony of his daily life, and made himself most agreeable, while
+his guests seconded him to the best of their ability.</p>
+
+<p>The meal being over, his Lordship proposed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> a rubber of whist, a
+relaxation of which he was very fond, but which, in the reduced state of
+his family, he was seldom able to enjoy. Mrs. Mackintosh and Smith, as
+the two best players of the party, expressed themselves as willing to
+take a hand, and Miss Matilda made up the fourth.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll excuse me," said his Lordship apologetically to Mrs. Mackintosh,
+"if we play only for threepenny points. Were I a curate I could play for
+sixpence, but in my position the stakes are necessarily limited."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't ever mean to say," exclaimed the old lady, "that you're a
+gambling Bishop!"</p>
+
+<p>"My brother," interrupted Miss Matilda, "is a pattern of upright living
+to his day and generation. But of course if you're incapable of
+understanding the difference between a sinful wager of money and the few
+pence necessary to keep up the interest of the game&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Gambling is gambling, to my mind," said Mrs. Mackintosh, "whether you
+play for dollars or doughnuts!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The point seems well taken," remarked the Bishop meditatively. "It's
+certainly never struck me in that light before; but if you think&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I think," said the old lady decidedly, "that it's lucky for you that
+there are no whales in Blanford!"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Matilda threw down her cards.</p>
+
+<p>"If I'm to be called a gambler under my own brother's roof," she said,
+"I shall refuse to play. Besides I've a headache." And she rose
+majestically from the table.</p>
+
+<p>"But, my dear," began the Bishop meekly, "if we cannot find a fourth
+hand&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"If Miss Banborough doesn't feel up to playing," came the sweet tones of
+Violet's voice, "I'll be delighted to take her place." And a moment
+later she was ensconced at the table.</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop's sister retired to a corner with the largest and most
+aggressive volume of sermons she could find, and sniffed loudly at
+intervals all the evening. And when at ten o'clock, in response to the
+summons of an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> impressive functionary clad in black and bearing a wand
+surmounted by a silver cross, the little party filed out to evening
+devotions in the chapel, Miss Matilda gathered her skirts around her as
+if she feared contagion.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid of that old cat," Mrs. Mackintosh confided to Violet, when
+they had reached the haven of their apartments. "I'm sure she suspects
+us already; and if we're not careful, she'll find us out."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH THE ENEMY ARRIVES.</h3>
+
+<p>"I say, boss," remarked the tramp, as he paused for a moment in the
+process of stuffing himself to repletion with cold game-pie, "this is a
+rum trip, and no mistake."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that got to do with you?" retorted Marchmont sharply,
+appropriating the remaining fragments of the pasty to his own use.</p>
+
+<p>The two men were seated in the shady angle of a ruined buttress, a
+portion of a stately abbey, which in pre-Norman days had flourished at a
+spot some half-dozen miles from the site of Blanford.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said the tramp, "if this ain't a wild-goose chase I dunno what
+you calls it. Here you've gone an' took me away from my happy home, an'
+brought me across the ragin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> Atlantic, an' dumped me in a moth-eaten
+little village where there ain't nothin' fit to drink, all because I
+happened to chum with a Bishop."</p>
+
+<p>"You seem to forget," said Marchmont, "that it was you who came to me,
+offering to sell your friends and their secrets for a sufficient
+remuneration."</p>
+
+<p>"So I did," said the tramp; "but it was revenge, that's what it
+was&mdash;revenge. I was deserted in a furrin land, with just my board-bill
+paid, and not a penny to bless myself with."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," said Marchmont. "That's the reason, I suppose, why you came from
+Montreal to New York in a parlour car."</p>
+
+<p>The tramp sighed despondently, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"Now whoever told you that, boss?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody. I found the Pullman check in your coat-pocket when I was
+looking for my diamond ring, which you'd absent-mindedly placed there."</p>
+
+<p>"Humph!" replied the other. "There ain't no foolin' you!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I should be a pretty poor journalist if there were," said his employer.
+"Now give me the story again, and see if you can get it straight."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there ain't nothin' much to tell, 'cept I was carried off by them
+Spanish conspirators in mistake for a lady, which I in no-wise
+resembles, an' the bloke as was the head of the gang was allus called
+the Bishop, and a pretty rum Bishop he was."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind about his qualifications," interrupted Marchmont shortly;
+adding to himself, "That explains his son's presence in Montreal."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, this Bishop," continued the tramp, "used to talk about his palace
+at Blanford; and when the party give me the go-by, I gathered from the
+porter as took their traps that they'd gone to England; and the
+elevator-boy, he heard the Bishop say to the little actress as they'd be
+as safe at the palace as they would anywhere. And then I come on to New
+York and blew it into you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Marchmont, "and I've given<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> you a first-class passage to
+England, paid your board and lodging, and kept you full for the best
+part of three weeks; and what do I get out of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I admit as we haven't had much results as yet," said the tramp. "But
+now things is goin' to hum. The Bishop and his whole gang's coming over
+to these very ruins to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"How did you find that out?" demanded the journalist.</p>
+
+<p>"Footman up to the palace told me. I give him a little jamboree last
+night at the 'Three Jolly Sailor-boys.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and had to be carried home dead-drunk. Nice one you are to keep a
+secret."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I was only a-doin' me duty," said the tramp in an aggrieved tone
+of voice, "and if they don't know you're after 'em, and you should
+happen to be inspectin' the ruins at the same time as they are, you
+could get chummy with 'em without half tryin'."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll attend to that," said the newspaper man. "I've just had a cable
+from the <i>Daily<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> Leader</i> telling me to hustle if I want to get that
+position, and I've got to do something, and do it quick. But it'll never
+do for you to be seen. Once they know we're together, the game's up. I
+can't have you larking round with the servants either. You'll spoil the
+whole show. You've got to go back to Dullhampton this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"What! that little one-horse fishing-town?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that's where you're wanted. It's the nearest port to Blanford, and
+it's where they'll try and get out of the country if they're hard
+pressed. You just stay there and keep your eyes open till you hear from
+me."</p>
+
+<p>The tramp growled surlily, and reluctantly prepared to obey.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, then," said Marchmont shortly, "get a move on. Yes, you can take
+the provender with you. It'll help to keep your mouth shut."</p>
+
+<p>As the tramp slouched round the corner and out of sight, his master
+stretched himself comfortably on the ground, and supporting his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> head on
+one arm, with his straw hat tilted over his eyes to protect them from
+the sun, he proceeded to go peacefully to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely had the journalist composed himself to slumber, when the ruins
+were invaded by the party from the palace. It was now about a month
+since Cecil and his friends had arrived at Blanford, and though this
+expedition to the old abbey had been often discussed, one thing and
+another had intervened to prevent its being put into execution.</p>
+
+<p>After her first burst of antagonism, Miss Matilda had settled down to a
+formal hospitality which was, if anything, more disconcerting. Tybalt
+Smith alone had achieved a favourable position in her eyes, and this
+only as the result of a very considerable amount of flattery and
+attention. At first his friends were at a loss to account for his
+attitude, but as time went on it appeared that the tragedian had not
+exerted himself for nothing. "The dear Professor" frequently had his
+breakfast in bed when he was too lazy to get up, and Miss Matilda
+considered the delicate state of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> his health required the daily stimulus
+of a pint of champagne. He also had the exclusive use of her victoria in
+the afternoon, and even if this did necessitate an occasional attendance
+at missionary meetings and penny readings, it was after all but a fair
+return for value received. On this occasion he had begged off going to
+the picnic, and was spending a luxurious day at the palace, waited on by
+the Bishop's sister.</p>
+
+<p>The party, having arrived at the abbey, promptly separated to explore
+the ruins, his Lordship gallantly offering to play the part of cicerone
+to the ladies. Miss Violet, however, for reasons of her own, preferred
+seclusion and a quiet chat with Spotts to any amount of architectural
+antiquities, so her host was enabled to devote his entire time to Mrs.
+Mackintosh.</p>
+
+<p>"Does it strike you," remarked the Bishop, a few moments later, pausing
+in his wanderings to inspect critically a fragment of Roman brick&mdash;"does
+it strike you how absolutely peaceful this spot is?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well," returned Mrs. Mackintosh, "I don't know as it does. I should
+have said your palace was about as good a sample of all-round
+peacefulness as there is going."</p>
+
+<p>"Ha," said his Lordship, "it hadn't occurred to me."</p>
+
+<p>"That's just like you men. You never know when you're well off. Now with
+your palace and Jonah you ought to be content."</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear lady," he said, "I admit my faults. The palace I indeed possess
+temporarily, but Jonah&mdash;ah, what would Jonah be without you! If I have
+left my work once in the past month to ask your advice, I have left it a
+hundred times."</p>
+
+<p>"You have," admitted Mrs. Mackintosh with decision.</p>
+
+<p>"Then it is to you that Jonah owes his debt of gratitude, not to me. You
+have lightened my labour in more senses of the word than one."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I've had a very pleasant visit. Blanford's a little paradise."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The Bishop sighed again, and remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"Paradise I have always regarded as being peaceful."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," acquiesced his companion reflectively, "with all that Jonah went
+through, I don't remember as he had an unmarried sister."</p>
+
+<p>There was silence for a moment, and then his Lordship abruptly changed
+the subject.</p>
+
+<p>"What a charming, bright, fresh young life is Miss Arminster's! She
+dances through the world like&mdash;like&mdash;er&mdash;" And he paused for a simile.</p>
+
+<p>"Like a grasshopper," suggested Mrs. Mackintosh, with marked disapproval
+in her tones. The Bishop had a trivial, not to say frivolous, strain in
+his nature which seemed to her hardly in accord with his exalted
+position.</p>
+
+<p>"No, dear lady," objected his Lordship, "not a grasshopper. Decidedly
+not a grasshopper; say&mdash;like a ray of sunshine."</p>
+
+<p>"Violet's a good girl," remarked his companion, "a very good girl, but
+in most things<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> she is still a child, and the serious side of life
+doesn't appeal to her. I dare say she'd go to sleep if you read to her
+about Jonah."</p>
+
+<p>"She did," admitted the Bishop; "but then of course," he added, wishing
+to palliate the offence, "it was a very hot day. I suppose, however, you
+are right. Serious things do not interest her&mdash;and that is&mdash;I should
+say&mdash;we are serious."</p>
+
+<p>"I am," said Mrs. Mackintosh, "and at your time of life you ought to be;
+and if we stand here any longer looking at that chunk of brick in the
+broiling sun, we'll both be as red as a couple of beets."</p>
+
+<p>No amount of sentiment could be proof against a statement of this sort,
+and they moved on.</p>
+
+<p>Violet and Spotts had meantime sat themselves down on a convenient
+tombstone to while away the interval till luncheon was served.</p>
+
+<p>"There are lots of things I want to talk to you about, Alvy," began the
+little actress, "and I never get the chance."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, fire away," he replied. "You've got it now."</p>
+
+<p>"In the first place," she said, "I don't like the way things are going
+here."</p>
+
+<p>"At the palace, you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. We're not aboveboard. We're shamming all the while. Besides, we're
+doing nothing in our profession."</p>
+
+<p>"It's better than doing time in prison."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't straightforward, and I don't like it," she went on.</p>
+
+<p>"Neither do I," he returned; "but there are other things I like less."</p>
+
+<p>"Such as?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, people falling in love with you, for instance."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Cecil. He received his <i>cong&eacute;</i> before we left America."</p>
+
+<p>"I said <i>people</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't mean the Bishop?"</p>
+
+<p>Spotts nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"But he's such a dear funny old thing!" she cried.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What's that got to do with it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, he might be my grandfather."</p>
+
+<p>"He's as frisky as a two-year-old," remarked the actor.</p>
+
+<p>"And finally," continued Violet, not noticing the interruption, "his old
+cat of a sister wouldn't let him."</p>
+
+<p>"Worms have turned, and straws have broken camels' backs before now,"
+persisted Spotts.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you call me names, sir! Worms and straws, indeed! What next, I
+should like to know!"</p>
+
+<p>"If you don't take care, you'll be called his <i>Lordship's</i> 'leopard.'"</p>
+
+<p>She burst out laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" she cried. "Why, I actually believe you're becoming
+jealous."</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit of it," he said. "I'd trust you, little girl, through thick
+and thin."</p>
+
+<p>"I know you would, Alvy, and I'd rather marry you&mdash;well, ten times,
+before I'd marry a lord or a bishop once."</p>
+
+<p>"I know it, old girl, I know it!" cried<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> Spotts ecstatically, and
+slipped his arm round her waist.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do be careful," she protested. "Just think, if any one should see
+us! I'm sure I heard a footstep behind us."</p>
+
+<p>They looked up, and saw Cecil above them, standing on the sill of an old
+ruined window.</p>
+
+<p>He had not heard their words, but he had seen Spotts's embrace, and
+realised bitterly how little chance he stood against such a combination
+of Apollo and Roscius.</p>
+
+<p>The month which had intervened since his return to Blanford had not been
+an altogether happy time for the Bishop's son. The pain of Miss
+Arminster's refusal still rankled within him, and that young lady's
+actions had not done much to soothe it. Had she comported herself with a
+resigned melancholy, he could have borne his own sufferings with
+fortitude. But, on the contrary, she had, he considered, flirted most
+outrageously with Mr. Spotts. Indeed Cecil was already strongly of the
+opinion that the actor was trying to succeed where he had failed&mdash;a
+course of action which he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> thought quite justifiable on his,
+Banborough's, part, but highly reprehensible on the part of any one
+else. Matters had now culminated. Fate had brought the three together at
+this inopportune moment, and as it was manifestly impossible not to say
+something, Cecil laid himself out to be agreeable, and Miss Arminster,
+who was naturally aware of the awkwardness of his position, did her best
+to promote conversation, while Spotts almost immediately cut the Gordian
+knot by excusing himself on the plea of looking after the lunch.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she said, "what's the latest news from Spain?"</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me that the war must be almost over," he replied. "Now that
+Santiago's fallen, and Cervera's fleet's destroyed, Spain has no
+alternative but to yield."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," she murmured, "then we'll be free once more."</p>
+
+<p>"Has your exile been so irksome to you?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," she returned, "I didn't mean it that way, really. Believe me, I'm
+not ungrateful.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> Blanford's just sweet, and your father's an old dear."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he retorted, laughing. "I notice you're doing your best to usurp
+Mrs. Mackintosh's place in his affections."</p>
+
+<p>"That's not from pique, it's from charity," she replied. "I've been
+trying to rescue her from Jonah."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid my governor must be an awful bore," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but he's so sweet and simple with it all," she objected. "I'm
+really growing to be awfully fond of him."</p>
+
+<p>"I think he's growing to be awfully fond of <i>you</i>," said his son.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Arminster laughed merrily.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you fancy me as a step-mamma?" she queried. "But, joking apart,
+I'm afraid even Blanford would pall on me after a while. It isn't my
+first visit here, you see. I was on a tour through these counties three
+years ago."</p>
+
+<p>"That's how you came to know about my father, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said. "I had him pointed out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> to me, and you look a good deal
+alike. Besides, the name's not common."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you liked Blanford well enough to come back to it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," she returned, looking up at him with a roguish smile, "this
+section of the country has other associations for me."</p>
+
+<p>"I was waiting for that," he retorted. "In which of the neighbouring
+towns were you married?"</p>
+
+<p>"The one nearest here," she replied. "I think we can just see the spire
+of the church over the trees. But how did you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"I inferred it as a matter of course," he said banteringly, "but I'm
+only joking."</p>
+
+<p>"But I'm not," she returned.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you really mean that you were married over there?" he asked,
+pointing to the distant church.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she replied. "The third of June, 1895."</p>
+
+<p>"I say, you know," he said, "I think you might have married me once in a
+way, as I had asked you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Banborough," she replied stiffly, drawing herself up, "you forget
+yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," he returned humbly. "Only as American divorce laws
+are so lax, I thought&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The divorce laws of my country are a disgrace, and nothing would ever
+induce me to avail myself of them. Besides, marriage, to me, is a very
+serious and solemn matter, and I can't permit you to speak about it
+flippantly, even by way of a joke."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil picked up a handful of pebbles and began throwing them
+meditatively at the fragment of an adjacent arch. The more he saw of
+Miss Arminster, the greater mystery she became. By her own admission,
+she had been married at least half a dozen times, which, were he to
+accept as real the high moral standard which she always assumed, must
+imply a frightful mortality among her husbands. But then she neither
+seemed flippant nor shallow, and her serious attitude towards the
+sacrament of marriage appeared wholly incompatible<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> with a matrimonial
+experience which might have caused a Mormon to shudder. Anyway, she
+wasn't going to marry him, and he turned to the discussion of more
+fruitful subjects.</p>
+
+<p>"How's Spotts getting on with his studies in architecture?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I should think he'd learned a good deal," she replied. "Your father
+hasn't left a stone of his own cathedral unexplained, and I imagine
+he'll put him through his paces over this abbey."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Spotts! I'm afraid he's had a hard row to hoe," said Cecil; "but,
+anyway, it'll keep him out of mischief."</p>
+
+<p>"You must be very careful what you say about him to me," she replied. "I
+won't hear one word against him, for we're very old friends."</p>
+
+<p>"So I should infer," he retorted, "from what I've just seen. <i>I</i> never
+was allowed to put <i>my</i> arm&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"How dare you!" she cried, rising, really angry this time. "I&mdash;" Then
+turning to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> Bishop, who arrived very opportunely, she exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you rescue me, please? Your son's becoming awfully impertinent!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then," said his Lordship gallantly, "my son must be taught better
+manners. If he cannot show himself worthy of such a charming companion,
+we'll punish him by leaving him entirely alone."</p>
+
+<p>Certainly his father was coming on, thought Cecil. But if Miss Arminster
+tried to take advantage of his dotage to forge another link in her
+matrimonial chain, he, Banborough, would have a word to say on the
+subject.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish to tell you, my dear," began his Lordship as they walked away,
+leaving Cecil disconsolate, "of a very nice invitation I've received for
+the rest of the week. Lord Downton is to call for me in his yacht at
+Dullhampton to-morrow, and has asked me to join his party and to bring
+some lady with me to make the number even."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how jolly that'll be&mdash;for Miss Matilda!" said the artful Violet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Humph!&mdash;ye-es," replied the Bishop. "I hardly think my sister could
+leave the palace just at this time."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," suggested his guest, "yachting doesn't agree with her. Has
+she ever tried it before?"</p>
+
+<p>"She has," replied the Bishop, with a certain asperity.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, poor thing!" said Miss Arminster. "It must have taken away from
+your pleasure to feel that she was suffering such great discomfort on
+your account."</p>
+
+<p>"Lord Downton didn't specify my sister. He only said 'some lady'; and so
+I thought if you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's just sweet of you!" exclaimed his companion. "I'm sure I
+should adore yachting. It's something I've always wanted to do."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we'll consider it settled," said the Bishop.</p>
+
+<p>"But Miss Matilda?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes," admitted his Lordship. "That's just the trouble. You see my
+dilemma."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Of course!" Violet responded promptly, understanding that he wished to
+be helped out. "If your sister knew you were going, she'd feel it her
+duty to accompany you, and the trip would be spoilt for you by her
+sufferings. So, out of your affection for her, you think it would be
+better if we were just quietly to slip off to-morrow and send her a wire
+from Dullhampton."</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop was delighted. Miss Matilda never accepted him at his own
+valuation.</p>
+
+<p>"So, just on your account," continued his companion demurely, "I won't
+say a word, though I hate any form of concealment."</p>
+
+<p>"H'm&mdash;naturally," said the Bishop.</p>
+
+<p>"But since it's for your dear sister's sake&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"We'll take the eleven-fifty train to-morrow," replied his Lordship.</p>
+
+<p>And here his remarks were cut short from the fact that in suddenly
+rounding a corner he had planted his foot on the recumbent form of
+Marchmont.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo!" said that gentleman, sitting up, and adding, as he rubbed his
+eyes to get them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> wider open, "permit me to inform you that this part of
+the ground is strictly preserved."</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you, sir?" demanded the Bishop.</p>
+
+<p>"Come," said the stranger cheerfully, "we'll make a bargain. I'll tell
+you who you are, if you'll tell me who I am."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not see how that is possible&mdash;" began his Lordship.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll begin," said Marchmont. "You're the Bishop of Blanford and
+I'm your son's greatest benefactor."</p>
+
+<p>"Really, you surprise me. May I enquire how you've benefited him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I made the fame of his book, 'The Purple Kangaroo.' I've been sending
+you my editorials on the subject for some weeks past."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you the person who wrote those scandalous leaders which have been
+forwarded to me from America?" demanded the Bishop.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you'd remember them," said the journalist. "They're
+eye-openers, aren't they?"</p>
+
+<p>His Lordship drew himself up and put on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> his most repressive manner, but
+Marchmont babbled on serenely.</p>
+
+<p>"The last time I saw Cecil he said to me: 'Whenever you come to England,
+Marchmont, you just drop round to the palace, and we'll make things
+hum.' So, having a chance for a little vacation, I jumped on board a
+steamer, crossed to Southampton, and biked up-country, doing these ruins
+on the way. I meant to have presented myself at the palace this
+afternoon in due form and a swallow-tailed coat, but I'm just as much
+pleased to see you as if I'd been regularly introduced."</p>
+
+<p>"You're one of the most consummate liars I ever knew," remarked Cecil,
+who, hearing voices, had strolled over to see what it was all about.</p>
+
+<p>"Put it more mildly, my dear fellow," replied the American. "Call me a
+journalist, and spare your father's feelings."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now you're here, what do you intend to do?" demanded Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"Do?" said Marchmont. "Why, I'm going to put up for a week at your 'Pink
+Pig,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> or your 'Azure Griffin,' or whatever kind of nondescript-coloured
+animal your local hostelry boasts, and study your charming cathedral.
+But, in the first place, I think we'd better have some lunch. I'm as
+hungry as a bear."</p>
+
+<p>"I fear we've scarcely provided for an extra guest," returned Cecil
+frigidly. The journalist was the very last person he wanted to see at
+Blanford, and he did not take any pains to disguise the fact.</p>
+
+<p>Marchmont, however, was not to be snubbed, and remarking cheerfully that
+there was always enough for one more, calmly proceeded in the direction
+of the hampers. Once there, he constituted himself chef and butler
+forthwith, and moreover proved so efficient in both capacities that,
+irritated as his friend was at his self-assurance, he could not but
+express his appreciation.</p>
+
+<p>Marchmont, having started the rest of the people on their lunch and made
+all feel at their ease, turned on his journalistic tap for the benefit
+of the Bishop, and plied the old gentleman with such a judicious mixture
+of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> flattery and amusing anecdote that, by the time the repast was over,
+his Lordship was solemnly assuring his son, much to that young
+gentleman's disgust, that he was indeed fortunate in possessing such a
+delightful friend, and that he might invite Mr. Marchmont to the palace
+if he liked.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so," said Cecil. "I suppose you remember his article in the
+<i>Daily Leader</i>, in which he alluded to you as a 'consecrated fossil'?"</p>
+
+<p>"H'm!" said the Bishop. "Really, the accommodation at the inn is very
+good, and perhaps, with so many guests, it would be asking too much of
+your aunt."</p>
+
+<p>"What does all this mean?" asked Spotts of Banborough when a convenient
+opportunity offered.</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop's son shrugged his shoulders, replying:</p>
+
+<p>"It means mischief."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH PEACE IS PROPOSED AND WAR DECLARED.</h3>
+
+<p>Marchmont stood on the lawn before the palace, on the morning after his
+arrival, critically inspecting that structure; his feet stretched wide
+apart, his hands in his pockets, and his hat on the back of his head.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil, emerging from breakfast, sighted his enemy and made haste to join
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Jolly old rookery you've got," remarked the reporter.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Banborough. "It was a monastery originally. They turned it
+into a bishop's palace about the reign of Henry VIII."</p>
+
+<p>"I know that style," said the American. "Nice rambling ark, two stories
+high, and no two rooms on the same level. Architect built right out into
+the country till he got tired, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> then turned round and came back.
+Obliged to have a valet to show you to your room whether you're sober or
+not."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know," said Cecil drily, "that you possessed an extensive
+acquaintance in ecclesiastical circles in this country."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes," said Marchmont, "I served as valet for six months to a bishop
+while I was gathering materials for my articles on 'English Sees Seen
+from the Inside.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Was it a financial success?" queried Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"No," admitted the reporter regretfully, "it sold the paper splendidly,
+but was stopped at the second article at the request of the American
+ambassador."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you favour us with a visit?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hadn't that honour."</p>
+
+<p>"If you had done so you would probably have slept in the rooms we give
+to our American guests in the new part of the house."</p>
+
+<p>"How old is that?" queried the journalist.</p>
+
+<p>"About eight hundred years," replied Cecil, "and the walls are four feet
+thick."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I know," said the reporter, "It's appalling. That sort of thing always
+upsets me. It seems so out of keeping with the <i>Daily Leader</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Marchmont, why have you come to Blanford?" demanded
+Banborough, abruptly changing the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"To have the joy of your society," returned the journalist.</p>
+
+<p>"If that were really the case I'd be delighted to see you," said the
+Englishman. "But you're on the track of these unfortunate people who are
+my guests; and if you make things disagreeable for them I shan't have
+the slightest compunction in forbidding you the house."</p>
+
+<p>The American, apparently ignoring the other's frankness, remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"So you admit they're conspirators?"</p>
+
+<p>"I admit nothing of the kind. They're perfectly innocent of the charge
+you bring against them, and you've been making an awful ass of yourself,
+if you only knew it."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, thank you. But if this is the case why<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> didn't you mention the fact
+to me in Montreal?"</p>
+
+<p>"I had my reasons."</p>
+
+<p>"And why are all these people received as honoured guests in your
+father's palace?"</p>
+
+<p>"That, if you'll permit me to say so, Marchmont, is a matter that
+doesn't concern you."</p>
+
+<p>"Everything concerns me. Not that I expect you to see that point of
+view. But to put it another way. Considering all I've done to increase
+the sale of your book, won't you do me a good turn and tell me what you
+know about this affair?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wish the confounded book had never sold a copy!" burst out
+Banborough. "And I'll not say one word to the detriment of my friends!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then it <i>is</i> to be war?" queried the journalist, rolling a cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>"Not so far as I'm concerned," replied his host. "Why don't you let
+bygones be bygones? A truce between the United States and Spain may be
+declared any day, and then&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Then my great scoop will be lost for ever. What would the public care
+about conspirators if there were no war?"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly what I say," said Cecil. "So let's drop the whole matter."</p>
+
+<p>"Not much!" cried the journalist. "It's my last chance. And if you won't
+help me&mdash;why, I must help myself."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you wish me to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Turn 'em out of Blanford."</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible!"</p>
+
+<p>"But your father?"</p>
+
+<p>"How dare you mention my father's name in this connection? I won't have
+him dragged into publicity to sell your dirty rag of a newspaper!" Cecil
+exploded, thoroughly beside himself at the thought of such a dreadful
+possibility.</p>
+
+<p>The journalist nodded his head gravely. Banborough's fierce defence of
+the Bishop he attributed to far other grounds than those on which it was
+really based. It justified him to the tramp's suspicions that his
+Lordship was actually connected with the plot.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said, with a fair pretence of backing down, "there's no need
+of getting so hot about it. Of course I don't want to make myself
+disagreeable."</p>
+
+<p>"Neither do I," replied his host. "Only we may as well understand each
+other. You're quite welcome to come to the palace as long as you
+remember to be a gentleman before you are a journalist. But if you
+forget it, I'll be forced to treat you as you deserve," and turning on
+his heel, he left Marchmont chewing the ends of his sandy moustache with
+a grim avidity that boded ill for the peace of the Bishop and his
+household.</p>
+
+<p>The American told himself that he must work carefully. Banborough would
+watch him and probably put the others on their guard. And moreover, he
+would not hesitate to dismiss him from the palace, which, apart from the
+unpleasantness of the operation, would be well-nigh fatal to the success
+of the scheme the journalist was maturing. Decidedly the highest caution
+was essential, but he must work quickly, for there was no time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> to be
+lost. Marchmont therefore proceeded to pump the first member of the
+company he came across. This happened to be Spotts, who was in rather a
+bad humour, the result of a morning spent with the Bishop in the
+cobwebby heights of a neighbouring church-tower.</p>
+
+<p>"You're the very person I wanted to see," cried the reporter.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid I've hardly time to be interviewed just now," replied the
+actor shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, this isn't professional. I'm off duty sometimes. I'm only human."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, are you? I supposed newspaper men were neither the one nor the
+other."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I wanted to talk to you for your own good."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it as bad as all that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I know who you really are," pursued the journalist, ignoring
+the interruption. "And I may say confidentially that you and Miss
+Arminster are not the people of this party I'm after."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that's very thoughtful of you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"So, if I could help you two to slip off quietly&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Why include Miss Arminster?" queried Spotts with well-affected
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Why? My dear fellow, you don't suppose I'm quite blind. Any one who
+follows that lady about with his eyes as you do is naturally&mdash; Well&mdash;you
+understand&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid your professional acumen is at fault this time," said the
+actor, and added: "I hope I may never come any nearer being married than
+I am now."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I say," returned Marchmont; "don't you aspire to be her&mdash;sixteenth,
+is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"You're alluding to Miss Arminster's husbands?" asked Spotts drily.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'd a little bet up with a friend," said Marchmont, "that she'd
+been married at least a baker's dozen times. Ought I to hedge?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think you're well inside the number," replied the actor.</p>
+
+<p>"Gad! she must be pretty well acquainted with the divorce courts!"
+exclaimed the reporter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'm quite sure she's never been divorced in her life," returned Spotts.
+"So long. I'm after a drink." And he left him, thus terminating the
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," said the journalist to himself, "I bet you're the next in line,
+just the same."</p>
+
+<p>Baffled in his first attempt, Marchmont sought other means of
+information, for there is always a weak spot in every defence, and a man
+of far less keen perception than the reporter would have had little
+difficulty in finding the most favourable point of attack. So it is not
+surprising that after a little cogitation he went in search of Miss
+Matilda, whom he had met the day before when he had returned with the
+party from the abbey. He found that lady on the lawn knitting socks for
+the heathen, and deserted for the nonce by the faithful Smith.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Miss Banborough," began the journalist, sitting down beside her,
+"what a reproach it is to idle men like myself to see such industry!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's very kind of you, I'm sure, to notice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> my humble labours," replied
+the old lady, expanding at once under the first word of flattery. "My
+brother tells me you're connected with a great newspaper. How ennobling
+that must be! It gives you such a wide scope for doing good."</p>
+
+<p>Marchmont, who had hardly adopted journalism for this purpose, and was
+conscious of having done his fair share of mischief in the world, made a
+desperate effort to look the part assigned to him, and murmuring
+something about the inspiration, to toilers like himself, of such
+self-sacrificing lives as hers, abruptly turned the conversation by
+alluding to the pleasure which she must have felt at her nephew's
+return.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course we're very glad to have him back," acceded Miss Matilda. "But
+then we see little or nothing of him."</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally," said the journalist, "his days must be given up to his
+friends. How you must be looking forward to the time when you can have
+him quite to yourself!"</p>
+
+<p>The gleam that came into the old lady's eye<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> at this remark told him
+that he had not been mistaken in fancying her hostile to the strangers,
+and he hastened to continue such a fruitful theme, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose that, as they've been here a month now, you'll be losing them
+soon."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't say," she snapped. "They seem to be staying for an indefinite
+period."</p>
+
+<p>"Really?" he replied. "I shouldn't have fancied that your nephew would
+have found them very congenial. Indeed, if you'll pardon my frankness, I
+was rather surprised to meet them here."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Matilda at once gave him her undivided attention.</p>
+
+<p>"You knew them in America?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I knew about them. I was hardly acquainted personally."</p>
+
+<p>It was his tone rather than his words that lent an unfavourable colour
+to the remark, but the implication was not lost on the Bishop's sister.
+Here at last was a man who could give her the information she was most
+anxious to obtain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I should have supposed," she ventured, "that you'd have known such very
+intimate friends of Cecil's as these appear to be."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no," he returned. "New York's a big place. I dare say you know much
+more about them than I do."</p>
+
+<p>"I know nothing!" she burst out. "Strange as it may appear to you, my
+nephew has never told me one word concerning his guests, though I'm
+expected to receive them under my&mdash;his father's roof and introduce them
+to my friends."</p>
+
+<p>"I see," replied Marchmont cautiously. "Cecil should have trusted to
+your excellent discrimination and judgment, unless&mdash;" and here he
+paused.</p>
+
+<p>The position required consideration. It was easy enough to tell her
+about these people. Merely to say that they were an itinerant company of
+actors and actresses would be sufficient to ensure them a speedy <i>cong&eacute;</i>
+from Blanford. But was it wise to do this? Did he want them to go? A
+hasty action is often like a boomerang. It returns on the toes of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> the
+person who thoughtlessly launches it in flight. No, on the whole they
+had better remain, he told himself. The palace would form an excellent
+background for the sensational exposure he hoped to make. If he could
+only get the Bishop into a corner, he would be quite satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what?" she demanded sharply, impatient at his unfinished
+sentence.</p>
+
+<p>"Unless," he continued, hedging carefully&mdash;"unless your nephew felt that
+it was quite sufficient to have explained things to his father.
+Doubtless the Bishop knows all about his son's friends."</p>
+
+<p>"The Bishop knows a great deal too much for a man in his position,"
+snapped his sister.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so," thought the journalist, "and doesn't confide it to you."
+Aloud he remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"Of course there's nothing particular to be said against them, except
+that they're hardly in Cecil's set."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't need you to tell me that. But what about the ladies?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes, the ladies. Well, really, you've put me in an awkward
+position, Miss Banborough. One can't be uncomplimentary to the fair sex,
+you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Humph! Well, Josephus sees more of both of them than is good for him.
+But of course Mrs. Mackintosh has neither the youth nor the good looks
+to cause me any anxiety."</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Mackintosh is eminently respectable," said Marchmont, who always
+spoke the truth when it did not conflict with business.</p>
+
+<p>"But Miss Arminster?"</p>
+
+<p>The journalist did not answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she cried, "why don't you speak?"</p>
+
+<p>"Madam," he replied, "you place me in a most embarrassing situation. My
+duty to you and the natural gallantry of my nature draw me in different
+directions."</p>
+
+<p>"I insist."</p>
+
+<p>"I put myself in your hands. In saying what I do I'm laying myself open
+to serious misconstruction."</p>
+
+<p>"You may rely upon my silence."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Any indiscretion on your part would be most unfortunate."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not forget the confidence you've reposed in me."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall hold you to that," he said. "If I tell you what I have in mind,
+will you promise not to use the information without my permission?"</p>
+
+<p>"That I cannot say."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I say nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"But you've already implied&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But implications, my dear Miss Banborough, are not evidence."</p>
+
+<p>"You leave me no other course but to accede to your request," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, then you promise?"</p>
+
+<p>"I promise."</p>
+
+<p>"The word of a woman in your position and of your high moral standard I
+know is sacred."</p>
+
+<p>She nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then," he continued, "please answer me this question. Where was
+your brother the first week in May?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"In Scotland."</p>
+
+<p>"Why did he go?"</p>
+
+<p>"For absolute rest. He was worried and run down."</p>
+
+<p>"You heard from him frequently?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not once during the whole time. Sir Joseph Westmoreland, the great
+London nerve specialist, who advised the change, even prohibited
+correspondence."</p>
+
+<p>"You're sure he was in Scotland?"</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Mr. Marchmont, why do you ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I saw the Bishop of Blanford in the United States in the first
+week of May on his way to Montreal, Canada."</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm certain of it."</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot credit what you tell me!"</p>
+
+<p>"What I tell you is quite true. You say he was absent for a month. Might
+he not have gone to the States and returned in that time?"</p>
+
+<p>His sister nodded. Then, as a sudden thought occurred to her, she
+flushed red with anger, exclaiming:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And this girl, this Miss Arminster! Was she in Montreal also?"</p>
+
+<p>"She was," replied Marchmont. "I saw her."</p>
+
+<p>"The hussy!" cried Miss Matilda, rising. "She shan't remain in my house
+another hour!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hold on!" he exclaimed. "You forget your promise!"</p>
+
+<p>"But after what you've said!"</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't said anything. Miss Arminster's being in Montreal might have
+been merely a coincidence."</p>
+
+<p>"But do you know something about her?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've investigated her career," he replied, "and have found nothing
+objectionable in it, beyond the fact that she's rather fond of getting
+married."</p>
+
+<p>"Getting married! But surely she calls herself <i>Miss</i> Arminster?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes; but that's very common on the&mdash;I mean, not unusual in such
+cases."</p>
+
+<p>"She has been married, then, more than once?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I know of a dozen different occasions on which she has had the service
+performed."</p>
+
+<p>"Infamous!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no. There's no evidence of her ever having been through the divorce
+court. Indeed, she may never have been married to more than one man at
+the same time."</p>
+
+<p>"But how to account&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"For the mortality in husbands? Well, fortunately, we're not required to
+do that."</p>
+
+<p>"I will not have my dear brother stricken down in his prime!" gasped
+Miss Matilda.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't suppose she's necessarily fatal. Still, as mistress of
+Blanford&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop's sister arose in her wrath. For the first time in her
+existence she wanted to swear, but contented herself by remarking:</p>
+
+<p>"That young woman leaves the palace to-day!"</p>
+
+<p>"You forget your promise to me," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"But is it possible, in the face of what you've told me, that you can
+hold me to it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Quite possible. In fact I mean to do so, and as soon as your righteous
+indignation cools down a bit you'll realise that we've nothing
+whatsoever to go on. What I've said could only be substantiated by
+evidence requiring some time to obtain. If you accused her now, she'd
+merely deny my statement, and her word's as good as mine, and probably
+better, in his Lordship's estimation."</p>
+
+<p>"But is there no proof near at hand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. She was married several years ago at a little church close by the
+ruined abbey where I first met your party, and the fact is recorded in
+the register."</p>
+
+<p>"Then surely&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"There's no crime in being married once," he objected.</p>
+
+<p>"But what <i>can</i> we do?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep quiet for a little while longer. Miss Arminster's certain to make
+some slip, and then&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It seems very difficult to wait."</p>
+
+<p>"Believe me," he replied, "it's the only way, and I shall rely on your
+promise."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Saying which, he left her, partly because he had obtained all the
+information he wished, and partly because he was certain that he espied
+the well-known figure of the tramp hovering behind the bushes on the
+opposite side of the lawn.</p>
+
+<p>A few moments later he had his hand on that individual's collar, and was
+demanding sternly what he meant by coming to Blanford against his
+orders.</p>
+
+<p>"'Cause I've somethin' of importance to tell yer," retorted that worthy.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, out with it, quick!" said the journalist. "It's got to be pretty
+important to excuse your disobedience."</p>
+
+<p>"It is. The boss is going to bolt."</p>
+
+<p>"Who? The Bishop?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's it! Him and the lady."</p>
+
+<p>"What lady?"</p>
+
+<p>"The young 'un, I guess."</p>
+
+<p>"What's all this stuff about?" demanded Marchmont.</p>
+
+<p>"It ain't stuff, as you'll soon see," replied the tramp in an aggrieved
+tone. "There was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> a yacht come into Dullhampton last night, a
+nasty-lookin' boat and a quick steamer. The second mate and me, we got
+to know each other up to the inn&mdash;he's a furriner, he is&mdash;a Don, more'n
+likely. But he let on, havin' had some drink, as how he'd been sent
+there with the yacht to wait for the Bishop o' Blanford and a lady as
+was comin' down next day, and the Bishop was to give the sailin'
+orders."</p>
+
+<p>"Humph! What more?"</p>
+
+<p>"This mornin' I seed 'em lookin' over a lot of flags on the deck of the
+yacht, and one of 'em was Spanish."</p>
+
+<p>"So you came all the way up here to tell me this cock-and-bull story!"</p>
+
+<p>"Not till I'd squared the crew."</p>
+
+<p>"Squared the crew?"</p>
+
+<p>"I let on to 'em as how they'd been shipped under false orders to carry
+two Spanish spies out of the country, an' how we was on to the fact, and
+if they'd stay by us they'd not be held responsible; and I promised 'em
+ten shillin's apiece and give 'em all the drink they wanted, and they're
+ours to a man."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And that's where you've wasted good money and good liquor. I tell you
+what you say is impossible. If the Bishop had had any idea of a move
+like that, I'd have got wind of it. Besides, his old cat of a sister
+would never let him leave Blanford again without her."</p>
+
+<p>"Hist!" said the tramp, pointing across the lawn. "Look there, what did
+I say? My eyesight ain't what it was, from breakin' stones up to Sing
+Sing, and I can't see no faces at this distance, but there's somethin'
+sneakin' along there, in bishop's togs."</p>
+
+<p>Marchmont followed the direction he indicated, and saw two figures
+stealing round the corner of the palace, carrying hand-bags and showing
+every sign of watchfulness and suspicion. Having ascertained that the
+lawn was clear, they slipped rapidly across it, and, putting themselves
+in the protecting shade of a clump of bushes, turned into the high-road
+and disappeared. It had needed no second glance to identify them as his
+Lordship and Miss Arminster.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"By Jove!" gasped the journalist. "It is true, then! This will be a
+scoop of scoops! Come, we've got to run for it. We must take the same
+train, and they mustn't see us."</p>
+
+<p>Some one else had witnessed the departure, in spite of all the
+precautions of the fugitives, and that person was Miss Matilda, who,
+from the vantage of an upper window, caught a glimpse of them just as
+they disappeared through the gate. Unwilling at first to believe her
+senses, she rushed to her brother's room and then to Miss Arminster's.
+Alas! in each apartment the traces of hasty packing and missing
+hand-luggage gave damning evidence of the fact. She rushed downstairs,
+bursting with her dreadful intelligence. In the hall she met Cecil,
+delightedly waving a telegram in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurrah! Aunt Matilda!" he shouted. "Such news! 'The Purple Kangaroo'
+has reached its twentieth edition, and a truce is declared between the
+United States and Spain! Where are the others? I must tell them that the
+war is over."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Bother your war!" exclaimed his aunt. "Do you know that your father and
+that shameless minx, Miss Arminster, have just eloped?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH THE BISHOP IS ABDUCTED.</h3>
+
+<p>All the way from Blanford to Dullhampton the Bishop was in the best of
+spirits, much on the principle of a naughty boy who, having played
+truant, means to enjoy his holiday to the full, well knowing that he
+will be caned when it is over. Indeed his Lordship became positively
+skittish, and Miss Arminster was obliged to squelch him a little, as
+that young lady, for excellent reasons of her own, had no more intention
+of becoming the mistress of Blanford than she had of wedding the author
+of "The Purple Kangaroo." On the other hand, she realised that it was
+one of the old gentleman's very rare treats, and she wanted him to have
+as good a time as possible; besides which, she had always longed to take
+a cruise on a steam-yacht, and now her ambition was about to be
+gratified.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The shock of disappointment was therefore all the greater when, on their
+arrival at Dullhampton, they were met by the captain, who informed them
+that Lord Downton had had a bad fall the day before and seriously
+sprained his ankle, so that the party had been given up. He had sent the
+yacht on, however, with the request that the Bishop would consider it at
+his disposal for the remainder of the week.</p>
+
+<p>"Now that's exceedingly awkward," said his Lordship. "I fear we can
+hardly go yachting without a chaperon."</p>
+
+<p>"Most certainly not," agreed Miss Arminster. "But let's take a little
+sail this afternoon, and return to Blanford in time for dinner."</p>
+
+<p>"That's very well thought of," said the Bishop, "and to-morrow we can
+bring down some more of our party. It seems a pity we shouldn't use the
+yacht, now we're here. Does that arrangement meet with your approval,
+captain?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, your Lordship," replied the captain, "to be honest with you, I
+hadn't expected as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> how you'd be able to get away to-day, so I'd
+arranged to see my sister, who lives here, this afternoon, and the first
+mate's gone up to town to order some stores. But if you are only to be
+out for a few hours, as you say, my second mate's quite capable of
+taking the boat for you. I wouldn't like to trust him on a long cruise,
+for he's only joined a few weeks, and I know nothing about his
+character. He is a first-class navigator, however, and for an afternoon
+in the Solent he'll do you very well."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure we would not want to interfere with your plans, captain," said
+his Lordship, "so if Miss Arminster agrees&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh my, yes," acquiesced Violet. "I don't care who takes the yacht out,
+so long as we go."</p>
+
+<p>"Right you are," said the captain. "Steam's up, and I've ordered lunch
+on board, as I thought you'd want that anyway. I'll tell Funk, the
+second mate, to run out into the Solent, and then you can give your own
+orders. What time will you be back?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, not later than six," replied the Bishop, as they stepped on board
+Lord Downton's beautiful craft, the "Homing Pigeon."</p>
+
+<p>She was a large boat and thoroughly seaworthy. Indeed her owner had made
+a voyage in her to the Mediterranean, but she was built for speed also,
+and decidedly rakish in cut.</p>
+
+<p>They were at once introduced to the second mate, and Miss Arminster
+thought she had seldom seen a more unprepossessing individual. He was
+surly and shifty-eyed, and she confided to the Bishop, when they were
+alone, that she was glad they were not going far from land under that
+man's charge, for he looked like a pirate.</p>
+
+<p>After glancing round the deck, which seemed charmingly arranged, they at
+once descended to the cabin for lunch, for their little journey had made
+them hungry. Here the captain left them with a few courteous words of
+excuse. A moment later, as he was leaving the ship, he met two strangers
+coming on board, laden with hand-baggage. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> were, though unknown to
+him, the journalist and the tramp. On asking them sharply what their
+business was, Marchmont replied very glibly that he was his Lordship's
+valet, and that he had hired this man to bring down the luggage from the
+station.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think your master'll need his traps, as he's only going out for
+the afternoon," said the captain. "But you'd better take them down to
+the cabin, and see the porter gets off before they start. I don't allow
+strangers aboard."</p>
+
+<p>The valet touched his hat respectfully, and went up the gangway,
+followed by the obsequious porter. A moment later they reached the deck,
+and no sooner had the captain disappeared round a corner than both men
+approached the second mate, with whom they had a hurried and earnest
+conversation, followed by an interchange of something which that officer
+transferred to his trousers-pocket and jingled appreciatively.</p>
+
+<p>The ropes were now cast off, and they got under way, while Marchmont
+stole very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> quietly to the door of the hatchway which led down to the
+saloon where the Bishop and the actress were unsuspectingly lunching,
+and softly turned the key.</p>
+
+<p>"Mayn't I cut you a slice of this cold ham, my dear?" asked the Bishop
+in his most fatherly tones.</p>
+
+<p>"Not while the pigeon-pie lasts," said his fair companion. "But you may
+give me a glass of champagne, if you will. I see some going to waste in
+an ice-cooler over there in the corner."</p>
+
+<p>"I was hoping the steward would come," ventured his Lordship.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I hope he won't. Being t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te is much more fun, don't you
+think? Give the bottle to me, and I'll show you how to open it and not
+spill a drop. In some respects your education's been neglected."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid it has," admitted the Bishop, assisting her with his
+pen-knife.</p>
+
+<p>His Lordship felt recklessly jovial. To lunch alone with a young lady
+who opened champagne with a dexterity that bespoke considerable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>
+practice must be very wicked, he felt certain, and he was shocked to
+realise that he didn't care if it was. His years of repression were
+beginning to find their outlet in a natural reaction.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, have a glass of champagne, and don't think about your
+shortcomings," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"That's very nice," he replied, just tasting it.</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" she cried. "No heel-taps. I'm no end thirsty."</p>
+
+<p>"So am I," replied his Lordship, draining his glass contentedly, and
+watching her fill it up again.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you so pensive about?" she demanded. "There's another bottle."</p>
+
+<p>He had been thinking that his sister always confined him to two glasses,
+but he didn't say so, and under her skilful lead he was soon describing
+to her a Cowes regatta he had once seen, in which she professed to be
+amazingly interested.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you what it is," she remarked a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> later on. "If I had a
+gorgeous palace like yours I'd have no end of a good time."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," said the Bishop, who was helping her to unfasten the second bottle
+of champagne, "I never thought of it in that light."</p>
+
+<p>"No," returned his fair companion, "I suppose not. But you're losing
+lots of fun in life, and it does seem a shame, when you would so enjoy
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"It does," said the Bishop, sampling the fresh bottle. "But then, you
+see, there's my sister, Miss Matilda&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Rats!"</p>
+
+<p>"Excuse me, I didn't catch your meaning."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind my meaning. We're talking about your sister. She's a most
+estimable woman, my dear Bish&mdash; Oh, pshaw! I can't always call you by
+your title."</p>
+
+<p>"Call me Josephus," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I couldn't call you that, either. It's too dreadful. I'll call you
+Joe."</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop beamed with joy.</p>
+
+<p>"And I," he faltered, "may I call you Violet?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No," she said, "I don't think it's proper in a man of your position."</p>
+
+<p>"But if you call me&mdash;Joe&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well!" she cried, laughing, "we'll make a compromise. Suppose you call
+me 'the Leopard'?"</p>
+
+<p>"To be sure," he said. "Mrs. Mackintosh spoke of you as
+that&mdash;er&mdash;quadruped. But what does it mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"You want to know a great deal too much for a man of your age. It's an
+animal that is more than once mentioned in Scripture, and that ought to
+be sufficient for your purposes. So we'll have it understood that his
+Lordship's Leopard is quite at his Lordship's service, if his Lordship
+doesn't mind."</p>
+
+<p>"Mind!" he cried ecstatically, eyeing the other side of the table. But
+Miss Violet intended to have the board between them.</p>
+
+<p>"Take another glass of champagne, and keep quiet," she said sternly.
+"We're talking about your estimable but impossible sister. My dear Joe,
+you'll never have any sport till you've got rid of her."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But how shall I get rid of her?" he asked despondently. Even champagne
+was not proof against the depression induced by such an appalling
+thought.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, send her to a course of mud-baths or a water-cure!"</p>
+
+<p>"I might try it&mdash;if&mdash;if you'd help me&mdash;if you'd take her place at the
+palace. I mean&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Josephus!" she called, in such an exact imitation of his sister's tone
+that it made him sit right up. "Josephus! don't say another word! I know
+what you mean&mdash;and you're an old dear&mdash;and I'm not going to let you make
+a fool of yourself. You're aged enough to be my father, and if your son
+had had his way you would have been my father-in-law. I want to have a
+good time, and I want you to have a good time; but that isn't the proper
+manner in which to set about it. No, you send the old lady packing, for
+the good of her health, and Mrs. Mackintosh and I'll help you and Cecil
+entertain, and we'll have a dance, and a marquee, and lots of punch. I
+dare say you've never been to a dance in your life,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> she rattled on,
+not giving him a chance to blunder out excuses.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not such an old fogey as you think me," he began. "But I want to
+say&mdash;er&mdash;Miss&mdash;Leopard&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, you don't," she interrupted. "You want to forget what you've
+said, and so do I. We must talk about something else. What were you
+saying about a dance?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, not a dance," he replied, resigning himself to his fate. "But
+once," lowering his voice, "not long ago either, when I was in town,
+I&mdash;I'm sure you won't believe it&mdash; I went to a theatre." This last
+triumphantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you sad dog!" she cried. "You didn't!"</p>
+
+<p>He nodded his head affirmatively.</p>
+
+<p>"And what was the piece?"</p>
+
+<p>"'The Sign of the Cross.'"</p>
+
+<p>"What, that gruesome show, where every one's slaughtered or chewed up by
+lions! You ought to have gone to the Empire."</p>
+
+<p>"It wasn't far from Leicester Square," he said deprecatingly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Not near enough to be very wicked," she retorted. "But, say, I'll tell
+you something if you'll promise never, never to reveal it."</p>
+
+<p>"The word of a bishop&mdash;" he began.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nonsense! You're not a bishop at present, you're just Joe. Well,
+here it is: I'm an actress!"</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;are&mdash;an&mdash;actress!"</p>
+
+<p>"Fact! I'm quite harmless. If you keep six feet from me there's not the
+slightest danger of contamination."</p>
+
+<p>Then, seeing his look of astonished bewilderment, she burst into a peal
+of ringing laughter, crying:</p>
+
+<p>"Why, to look at you, one would think I'd told you that I was a Gorgon!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," he said, stammering. "I&mdash;I'm delighted. I always really wanted
+to meet an actress&mdash;but&mdash;er&mdash;I hardly know what to say&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't say anything. Just be your dear unsophisticated self, or you'll
+be a bore. Cecil didn't dare tell you who I was, for fear you'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> be
+shocked. Come on, let's go up on deck. It's close down here."</p>
+
+<p>"It is," admitted his Lordship, whose temperature had risen with his
+consumption of champagne, and added:</p>
+
+<p>"We should be well out by this time, for we seem to have been going at
+great speed."</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it glorious!" she cried. "I wonder what they're doing at
+Blanford. I guess your telegram was an eye-opener."</p>
+
+<p>"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the Bishop, fishing a form out of his pocket.
+"I forgot to send it."</p>
+
+<p>"What, do you mean to say they don't know what's become of us?"</p>
+
+<p>"I never said a word."</p>
+
+<p>"My hat!" she cried. "Won't you get a wigging to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>Then, seeing his evident discomfiture, she added:</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, I'll take it with you; and if she turns nasty we'll put a
+flea in her ear about those mud-baths. Come, let's have our fun,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>
+anyway." And she put her hand on the cabin door.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it's stuck!" she exclaimed. "I can't open it."</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop grasped the handle.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't stuck!" he cried, shaking it. "It's locked!"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>While events had been progressing in the cabin, others of no less
+importance were taking place on deck. Once they were well off the land,
+Funk lost no time in calling a meeting of the crew of the yacht, who
+formed a circle around him.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, my hearties," he said, introducing Marchmont, "this gentleman's
+got a word to say to you which it's worth your while to hear." And he
+put him in the centre of the ring.</p>
+
+<p>"Mates," began the journalist, fitting his speech to the audience he was
+addressing, "I'm a plain man of few words, and I've come to you about a
+plain matter. Mr. Funk will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> tell you I'm speaking the truth; and you
+know this gentleman," indicating the tramp.</p>
+
+<p>The crowd growled gutturally. They appreciated the tramp's generous
+offers of liquor, but not his society.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," continued Marchmont, ignoring the unfavourable tone, "I suppose
+you'd all like to see the Yankees lick the Dons."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, ay, you're right there," muttered a burly tar.</p>
+
+<p>"Good for you! We're all of the same family, and blood's thicker than
+water. Of course you want the boys in blue to win; and that being the
+case, I rely on you to help me, like true British tars, the nation's
+bulwarks&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hear, hear!" growled the crowd appreciatively.</p>
+
+<p>"Now do you know whom you've aboard to-day?" demanded the American.</p>
+
+<p>"The Bishop o' Blanford, and a laidy," came the tones of a voice whose
+owner evidently hailed from London.</p>
+
+<p>"No, you haven't," cried the journalist excitedly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> "No, you haven't!
+You've got two low-down Spanish spies!"</p>
+
+<p>"What d'ye say, mate?" demanded the first speaker among the crew.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm telling you the truth," vociferated Marchmont, lying boldly; for he
+feared that the Bishop's conspiracies would go for nothing if they
+suspected he was really a churchman.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm telling you the truth," he repeated. "And these two gentlemen,"
+referring to the mate and the tramp, "will back me up. That man's no
+more the Bishop of Blanford than you are! And the <i>lady</i>&mdash;well, she's on
+the stage when she isn't in the pay of the Spanish Government. I've
+tracked them from the States to Canada, where I saw them both a month
+ago, and then to England. I don't say how they got hold of this yacht,
+but I ask you, where's the captain and the first mate?"</p>
+
+<p>A growl of suspicion rewarded his efforts.</p>
+
+<p>"They took pretty good care to get out of the way, and leave Mr. Funk
+and you to bear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> the brunt of any breach of neutrality that these
+conspirators might let you in for."</p>
+
+<p>The sailors began to whisper to one another, and were evidently uneasy.</p>
+
+<p>"Then look at the captain's parting words!" cried the journalist. "'Go
+out into the Solent,' says he, 'and the <i>Bishop</i> will give you your
+sailing orders,' Sailing orders, indeed! What would a parson know about
+sailing a vessel of this sort?"</p>
+
+<p>One of the men nudged another at this, and he of the gruff voice gave it
+as his opinion that "there was summat in it."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you what the sailing orders will be," shouted Marchmont.
+"They'll take you round the Needles, and alongside of a Spanish cruiser.
+And when you get ashore, you'll all be clapped into prison for helping
+the Dons."</p>
+
+<p>"Let's take 'em back now," came a chorus of voices.</p>
+
+<p>"And let 'em go scot-free?" demanded Marchmont.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what would <i>you</i> do?" asked the spokesman.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I?" said the journalist. "I'd hand 'em over to the first American ship
+we sight, and send 'em to New York. That takes the burden off <i>your</i>
+shoulders. My man has promised you ten shillings apiece. Put 'em on
+board a Yankee ship, and I'll make it a pound." And he brought up a
+handful of gold from his pocket, and jingled it in their faces.</p>
+
+<p>It has been said that money talks, and it undoubtedly did so in this
+case. Marchmont's specious arguments sounded plausible enough, and the
+mate, who was a thoroughly bad lot and had plenty of the journalist's
+money in his pocket, backed him up in every particular. So the crew,
+after a little discussion, accepted the proposition to a man, and the
+fact that the Bishop chose this unfortunate time to make an attack on
+the cabin door probably helped to decide them.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," cried the journalist, as it rattled on its hinges, "they're
+trying to break out now, and are probably armed to the teeth."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We're with you, mates. The Yankees shall have 'em!" shouted the crowd.</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" he replied. "I'll see if I can induce them to surrender
+quietly." And going to the cabin door, he unlocked it and entered,
+closing it behind him.</p>
+
+<p>"Who has dared to lock us in in this unwarrantable manner?" spluttered
+the Bishop, as the door opened. Then, seeing who it was, he fell back a
+step, exclaiming:</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Mr. Marchmont, how did you come on board?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind about that," said the journalist shortly. "I'm here, and I
+locked you in; and when I tell you that I'm thoroughly on to the whole
+show, you'll understand that this high-and-mighty business doesn't go
+down. Got any champagne left? I'm as dry as a bone."</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop was rapidly turning purple with suppressed indignation, but
+Miss Arminster scornfully indicated the location of the wine-cooler.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, thanks," said the intruder, tossing off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> a glass. "That's better."
+And he threw himself comfortably down on a divan, saying, as he did so:</p>
+
+<p>"If you two have any weapons, you might as well put them on the table.
+Resistance is quite useless. I've plenty of men awaiting my signal on
+deck."</p>
+
+<p>Violet, who in the light of this last remark suddenly understood the
+position, burst into peals of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll find it's no laughing matter," cried the journalist angrily.</p>
+
+<p>"I insist upon your instantly explaining your outrageous conduct," said
+the Bishop.</p>
+
+<p>"I can do that in a very few words," replied Marchmont. "As an American
+representative, and authorised agent of the <i>Daily Leader</i>, the people's
+bulwark of defence, I arrest you both as Spanish spies."</p>
+
+<p>"He must be mad!" ejaculated his Lordship.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, he isn't. He actually believes it!" cried Violet between her
+paroxysms of merriment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> But her companion would not be convinced.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear man," he said blandly, "you must be suffering under some
+grievous delusion. I am, as you should know, having been my guest, the
+Bishop of Blanford, and it is quite impossible that either I or this
+lady should have any connection with a political crime. I must insist
+that you release us at once, and go away quietly, or I shall be forced
+to use harsher measures."</p>
+
+<p>"You do it very well, very well indeed," commented the journalist. "But
+you can't fool me, and so you'd better give up trying."</p>
+
+<p>"I say," remarked Miss Arminster to Marchmont, "you're making an awful
+fool of yourself."</p>
+
+<p>The representative of the <i>Daily Leader</i> shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you consent to let us go, without threshing the whole thing out?"
+she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you take me for?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, as you please," she said resignedly. "Put your questions; we'll
+answer them."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Is it best to humour him?" enquired his Lordship in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the only way," she replied. "Give him string enough, and see the
+cat's-cradle he'll weave out of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said the journalist cheerfully to the Bishop, "perhaps you'll
+deny that you spent a month or six weeks in the United States this
+spring?"</p>
+
+<p>"A month," acquiesced his Lordship.</p>
+
+<p>"Just so. And during that time you were supposed to be in Scotland
+taking a rest-cure?"</p>
+
+<p>"I admit that such is the case. But how you obtained your information&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I got it from your sister&mdash;about the rest-cure, I mean."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you tell her&mdash;er&mdash;that I was&mdash;er&mdash;in the United States?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied the journalist.</p>
+
+<p>His Lordship heaved a deep sigh. The future, he thought, held worse
+things for him than arrest and deportation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"How did you know that I was in the United States and Canada?" he
+demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw you."</p>
+
+<p>"Where?"</p>
+
+<p>"At a little station on the borders of the two countries. You spent the
+night wrapped up in a blanket, and slept under the bar."</p>
+
+<p>"You never&mdash;!" broke in Miss Arminster.</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop nodded mournfully. So far the facts were against him, and his
+interlocutor's face shone with a gleam of triumph.</p>
+
+<p>"But in that case&mdash;" exclaimed Violet.</p>
+
+<p>"Excuse me, I'll tell the story," said Marchmont, and continued the
+narration.</p>
+
+<p>"You were roused about five in the morning by a man breaking into the
+room."</p>
+
+<p>"So I was," admitted the Bishop. "How did you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was asleep in the room overhead, and gave the alarm."</p>
+
+<p>"That's perfectly correct," acquiesced his Lordship. "I remember the
+tones of your voice. It's most astounding."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And the man who broke into the bar," continued Violet, "was your son."</p>
+
+<p>It was now Marchmont's turn to be astonished.</p>
+
+<p>"What!" he cried, while the Bishop ejaculated:</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible!"</p>
+
+<p>"But it was," she insisted. "He went to get the coffee for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Were you in the station, too?" demanded his Lordship.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I was out in a potato-patch."</p>
+
+<p>"You a member of that party of political criminals who jumped off the
+train!" cried the Bishop. "I heard all about it the next morning, but I
+can't believe&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It's quite true," she assured him.</p>
+
+<p>"But it's too remarkable," he went on. "I'd gone to America on purpose
+to find my son, of whom I'd heard nothing for a year. And you say he was
+there, and&mdash;er&mdash;touched me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, didn't you see him in Montreal?" asked Marchmont.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I sailed next day for England. I was on my way to the steamer when the
+accident occurred which detained me overnight."</p>
+
+<p>"Why then did you conceal the purpose of your trip?" demanded his
+tormentor.</p>
+
+<p>"My sister was much opposed to my seeking my son," said his Lordship,
+colouring furiously. "And&mdash;I&mdash;in short, I had reasons."</p>
+
+<p>The journalist laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"The story's clever," he said. "But I can tell a more interesting tale."
+And he proceeded to relate the adventures of Cecil in the person of "the
+Bishop," to which his Lordship listened with open-mouthed astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" concluded his captor triumphantly. "Have you anything to say to
+that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have," chimed in Miss Arminster, and she gave the true version of the
+affair from the time Banborough had first engaged them at the Grand
+Central Station.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a very plausible story," said Marchmont, when she had finished,
+"and does credit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> to your invention. But fortunately I'm in a condition
+to completely disprove it."</p>
+
+<p>"Really?" she asked. "How so?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can produce a witness of the whole transaction."</p>
+
+<p>"Who?"</p>
+
+<p>"Friend Othniel."</p>
+
+<p>"What! here, on board the yacht?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Marchmont, "on board this yacht. And he can prove that what
+I say is true."</p>
+
+<p>"What? About the Bishop?" she cried, her voice quivering with suppressed
+merriment.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," replied the journalist. "After his release from the Black
+Maria he tells substantially your story, but gives the Bishop the part
+you have carefully assigned to his innocent son."</p>
+
+<p>At this she once more broke into peals of laughter, but at last,
+recovering her speech, managed to gasp out:</p>
+
+<p>"Bring him here, and see what he says."</p>
+
+<p>"I will," said Marchmont, hurriedly leaving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> the cabin, for her
+marvellous self-possession was beginning to arouse unpleasant suspicions
+even in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>"But what does it all mean?" queried the Bishop helplessly, after the
+journalist's departure. "How dare he say such things about me! I drive a
+prison-van, indeed!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you," she replied, striving to control her voice. "It's the
+greatest practical joke that ever was. We called your son 'the Bishop,'
+just as a nickname, you see, and of course the tramp heard us, and,
+after we dropped him in Montreal, must have blown the whole thing to
+Marchmont out of spite, and, not knowing any better, he thought your son
+really <i>was</i> the Bishop."</p>
+
+<p>Here his Lordship became speechless, as the truth dawned upon him; and
+at that moment Marchmont entered the cabin, with Friend Othniel in tow.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" he said, pointing to the ecclesiastic. "Is that the Bishop of
+Blanford?"</p>
+
+<p>"Naw," replied the tramp. "He's old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> enough to be his father, he is. The
+Bishop I means is a young 'un."</p>
+
+<p>"Like this!" cried Violet, opening the locket which Cecil had given her
+in Montreal, and handing it to the tramp.</p>
+
+<p>"That's him to a T," said Friend Othniel. "I'd know him among a
+thousand."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Marchmont said nothing as he encountered the full force of
+the cruel disillusion, and then with painstaking precision he turned and
+kicked the tramp up the entire flight of cabin stairs.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," remarked the Bishop, "perhaps you'll allow us to go free."</p>
+
+<p>"No!" cried the journalist, slamming the door. "I've wasted heaps of
+cash and no end of time over this wild-goose-chase, but the <i>Daily
+Leader</i> shall have its scoop yet! If you aren't conspirators, I'll make
+you so, in spite of yourselves! You <i>shall</i> be Spanish spies!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH THE BISHOP EATS JAM TART, AND MISS MATILDA HUMBLE-PIE.</h3>
+
+<p>"Now," remarked the Bishop to Miss Arminster, as Marchmont quitted the
+cabin after this last astounding remark, "Now I'm certain he's mad."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no," replied the lady, "it's merely journalistic enterprise. I
+don't blame him for being disappointed. It must be hard to find that
+we're not conspirators, after all."</p>
+
+<p>"But why should he wish to make us so?"</p>
+
+<p>"You dear stupid old Joe!" she exclaimed. "You haven't the remotest
+inkling of what American journalism means. It's sensation first, last,
+and altogether. Think of a bishop, and an English bishop at that, posing
+as an agent of the Spanish secret service, and eloping with an actress
+on somebody else's yacht.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> Why, I can shut my eyes and see the
+headlines. They're almost certain to print them in red ink. There's fame
+for you!"</p>
+
+<p>"But why should he wish to print it if it's not the truth?"</p>
+
+<p>"Truth! My dear Bishop, who said anything about truth? We were speaking
+of news, and&mdash;journalistic enterprise."</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the door again burst open, and Marchmont flung into the
+cabin.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" he said, with a tone of triumph, "we've sighted an American
+steamer down channel, and have hoisted the Spanish flag. We're pursuing
+her, and very presently we shall be captured, and you'll be
+surrendered."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose," began the Bishop, "that, to a man so devoid of moral
+consciousness as you appear to be, no arguments of mine&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't waste your breath," broke in Miss Arminster. "They wouldn't."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I'm sorry to cause you any inconvenience," said the journalist
+amiably, "but you see, my paper's simply panting for sensation, and when
+they hear about this little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> racket they'll sell extras till they can't
+see straight."</p>
+
+<p>"And what, may I ask, will happen when the truth comes out?" demanded
+his Lordship severely.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the war'll probably be over by the time you reach New York, and
+you'll cease to be interesting," replied Marchmont. "Besides, we'll have
+had our scoop, and most likely, when the <i>Daily Leader</i> finds there's no
+case against you they'll give you a return ticket. The management's
+generally pretty liberal."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I must say," spluttered the Bishop, "that of all the
+brazen&mdash;unconscionable&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you raise the Spanish flag?" interrupted Miss Arminster.</p>
+
+<p>"That was my idea," said the journalist, "and I'm rather proud of it.
+You see, we could hardly reverse the Union Jack as a sign of distress,
+and then go full speed ahead, but I don't think an American ship would
+resist taking a Spanish prize; and as soon as they get within firing
+range we'll run up a flag of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> truce. By the way," he continued, becoming
+quite courteous, now that he felt he had them in his power, "why do you
+remain in this stuffy cabin? I shall be very glad to have you up on
+deck, provided you'll give me your parole."</p>
+
+<p>"What, not to escape?" asked Violet. "Did you think we were going to
+jump overboard and swim ashore?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I mean that you should give your parole not to be anything but
+Spaniards."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid we couldn't manage that," she replied. "The Bishop doesn't
+look nearly ferocious enough."</p>
+
+<p>"I absolutely refuse to become a party to this deception!" said his
+Lordship.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't ask you to do that," returned Marchmont, "only to promise
+that you'll not try and enlist the sympathies of the crew in your
+behalf."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not promise anything," said the Bishop, "nor shall I allow this
+lady to do so. I'm a man of peace, but if ever I get hold of you on dry
+land I'll horsewhip you, if it costs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> me my see; and if you don't leave
+this cabin at once I'll treat you as you treated your friend. You are a
+thorough blackguard, and not fit to associate with gentlemen!"</p>
+
+<p>The journalist started to say something, but, remembering that his
+accuser was muscular, thought better of it, shrugged his shoulders, and
+went out silently, locking the door behind him.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" said his Lordship, "I can breathe more freely now."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Arminster made no reply, for the excellent reason that her head was
+out of a port-hole, and she could not hear clearly what was said.
+Presently she pulled it in again, crying, as she did so:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do look! This is great sport! The American ship is running away
+from us!"</p>
+
+<p>Such was indeed the case. The vessel they were overhauling was a small
+tramp steamer, which had evidently found courage, through the general
+incapacity of the Spanish navy and the fancied security of neutral
+waters, to flaunt the Stars and Stripes. It was therefore most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>
+disconcerting to find herself suddenly pursued in the English Channel by
+a craft which had every appearance of being a Spanish gunboat. No sooner
+had she caught a glimpse of the red and yellow flag of her enemy than
+she crowded on to her yards every stitch of canvass she possessed, in
+the hope of obtaining some advantage from the light breeze that was
+blowing, while the black clouds of smoke which belched from her single
+funnel showed that her engines were being driven to their utmost
+capacity. She having a long lead and the combined assistance of wind and
+steam, the distance between the pursuer and the pursued decreased
+slowly, and it soon became evident that it was to be a stern chase,
+which is proverbially a long chase. The yacht, therefore, turned about
+in search of some fresh enemy to whom she might surrender, and in this
+fortune favored her, for down the Channel came a great liner, whose
+name, albeit she flew temporarily the flag of another nation, proclaimed
+her to be an American ship, with an American captain and crew.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Those on board the "Homing Pigeon" now adopted different tactics, and an
+inverted British ensign replaced the banner of the Dons.</p>
+
+<p>As the yacht stood directly in the path of the oncoming ocean greyhound,
+and flew signals of distress which she could not disregard, the great
+ship was forced to heave to. Marchmont hastened to convey the news to
+his prisoners in the cabin, saying that he considered them very
+fortunate, as they had every prospect of a speedy and pleasant voyage,
+and cautioning them at the same time, as he led the way up the cabin
+stairs, that resistance was futile, and that any remarks of theirs to
+the crew would only be so much waste of breath. To all of which neither
+deigned to answer a word, realising that in their present precarious
+position silence was not only the most dignified but also the safest
+course.</p>
+
+<p>As they reached the deck the great liner was almost abreast of them, and
+gradually came to a standstill with clouds of pent-up steam pouring from
+her safety-valves.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What do you want?" bawled her chief officer through a megaphone, his
+voice sounding very large and clear from the great height above them.</p>
+
+<p>"We've two prisoners of war, Spanish spies, and we wish to hand them
+over!" shouted the mate in return.</p>
+
+<p>"This isn't an American ship," came the reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it is," howled Marchmont; "we know better! You belong to the 'Pink
+Star' line."</p>
+
+<p>The chief officer conferred with the captain.</p>
+
+<p>"It's Mason and Slidell the other way round," he said. "I wouldn't
+touch 'em with a ten-foot pole. Besides&mdash;" and here he seized the
+megaphone from his subordinate and yelled through it:</p>
+
+<p>"You infernal idiots! don't you know the war with Spain is over? We've
+declared a truce!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe it,", cried Marchmont, shaking his fist at the great
+steamship in a paroxysm of disappointed rage. "It's only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> an excuse to
+shirk your duty! We've brought them out to you, and you've got to take
+them! I'll report you to the government! I'll&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>The sharp ring of the engine-room bell from the liner's bridge was the
+only reply vouchsafed him, and a moment later the big ship forged ahead,
+her captain very red in the face and swearing like a trooper: for the
+most precious thing on board a racer of that class is time, and the
+"Homing Pigeon" had been wasting it.</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop, noting the sheepish faces of the mate and his two fellow
+conspirators, and the lowering glances of the crew, turned to Miss
+Arminster, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"We'd better return to the cabin, my dear. I think there's going to be
+trouble."</p>
+
+<p>The little actress followed his Lordship's gaze, and descended without a
+word of protest. She thought so, too.</p>
+
+<p>They had hardly entered the saloon, when there came a respectful knock
+at the door, and an elderly seaman entered, ducking his head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, my good man," said his Lordship, "what can I do for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Meanin' no disrespect, sir, be you really the Bishop of Blanford?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly I am," that gentleman replied. "You see my dress, and," as a
+happy thought struck him, "here's one of my cards to prove my identity."
+And he handed the sailor a bit of pasteboard with his title engraved
+thereon.</p>
+
+<p>"And the lady?" asked the seaman.</p>
+
+<p>"The lady is no more connected with this absurd charge than I am,"
+pursued the Bishop. "You've been grievously misled by your mate and
+these two strangers. But if you'll take us safe to the nearest port,
+I'll speak a word in your favour to your master, Lord Downton, who's an
+intimate friend of mine. Can you read?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, your honour."</p>
+
+<p>"Then here's a letter from his Lordship, which I fortunately have by me,
+requesting me to join his yacht. Read it yourself, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> show it to your
+fellows as a proof of who I am." And he handed him the missive.</p>
+
+<p>The sailor took it, ducked again, and retired silently, and there was
+presently a great shuffling of feet on the deck above.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think they're doing?" asked Violet.</p>
+
+<p>"I trust they're coming to their senses&mdash;and if&mdash;" But his remarks were
+interrupted by a most terrific row overhead, shouts, blows, and curses.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the Bishop. "What can be the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"They're squaring accounts with Marchmont, Friend Othniel, and the mate,
+I guess," she replied, "and I hope they'll half kill them."</p>
+
+<p>"Fie, fie! my dear Leopard&mdash;most unchristian. I must certainly go and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, you mustn't do anything of the sort! Stay right where you are.
+We're in hot enough water already." And suiting the action to the word,
+she pushed him back on to the divan.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, really&mdash;!" remarked the Bishop, and collapsed amiably.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the sounds of commotion ceased, and gave way to laughter, but
+laughter with a certain grim note in it that boded ill for those laughed
+at. After a little, there came another knock at the cabin door, and this
+time quite a deputation entered the saloon, the sailor who had first
+visited them being the spokesman.</p>
+
+<p>"Having disposed of those gents as you suggested&mdash;" he began.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!" the Bishop hastened to disclaim, "I suggested nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said the seaman, "we've fixed 'em, anyway. And now we're heading
+for the nearest port, which the same's Weymouth, and we hopes you'll
+overlook what's gone before, and come on deck and take command of this
+yacht."</p>
+
+<p>"I will certainly come on deck," replied the Bishop. "But as to assuming
+command of the ship, I hardly feel qualified. Is there not some one
+among you&mdash;?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'm bo'sn, please your honour," volunteered the speaker.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," said the Bishop blandly, "then I appoint you." And as the men fell
+back, he escorted Miss Arminster upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>As they appeared on deck, a striking scene met their eyes. Three
+wretched figures were triced up to the mainmast. They had only such
+remnants of clothes remaining on their persons as decency demanded, and
+they had all evidently made a recent acquaintance with the ship's
+tar-barrel and slush-bucket.</p>
+
+<p>As his Lordship and Miss Arminster appeared, the crew approached,
+expecting a speech.</p>
+
+<p>"I hardly know what to say," began the Bishop to Violet.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me speak to them, will you?" she asked, her eyes sparkling. "I
+understand human nature pretty well. I have to, in my profession."</p>
+
+<p>His Lordship nodded assent, and a moment later she had sprung on to the
+cabin hatch, a most entrancing little figure, and instantly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> commanded
+the attention and admiration of her audience.</p>
+
+<p>"Mates!" she cried, in her clear ringing voice, "mates, I want a word
+with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Speak up, and welcome!" called some one in the crowd, while the
+boatswain, nudging a comrade in the ribs, remarked under his breath:</p>
+
+<p>"My eye, but she's a stunner!"</p>
+
+<p>Silence having been obtained, she continued:</p>
+
+<p>"I've only this to say. We've all been made fools of. Those gentlemen
+tied up to the mast made fools of you, and you've certainly made fools
+of them."</p>
+
+<p>A loud laugh greeted this sally.</p>
+
+<p>"And," she resumed, "if it ever gets out that his Lordship the Bishop of
+Blanford and myself were carried off as Spanish spies, we'll never hear
+the last of it. Now let's all keep silence for the sake of the others.
+Put us ashore at Weymouth, and we'll say to Lord Downton that it was our
+wish to be landed there. He won't know about the occurrences<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> of this
+day, unless some of you tell him. You might leave the journalist and the
+tramp at Weymouth, too. I guess they'll have had enough of the sea to
+last them for some time. And oh, by the way, I suppose Mr. Marchmont
+intended to pay you for this. Perhaps you'll see that the division is
+properly carried out."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, ay!" came from twenty throats, followed by a rousing cheer.</p>
+
+<p>And so it happened that they reached <i>terra firma</i> about six in the
+afternoon. But Weymouth, while it is geographically not far distant from
+Blanford, is miles away by the railroad and its connections, and they
+did not reach the palace till nearly midnight.</p>
+
+<p>Everything was dark and still, and as they stood shivering in the porch,
+the Bishop remarked, producing his latch-key:</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know I&mdash;I'm really afraid to open the door."</p>
+
+<p>She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and they entered softly.</p>
+
+<p>"Is there anything I can get for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> Leopard, before she retires?" he
+asked apologetically, as they crossed the stone-paved floor of the
+palace by the aid of a single bedroom candle, which only served to
+accentuate the surrounding darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank you, I'm all right," she faltered, putting her foot on the
+first step of the stairs. And then, without the slightest warning, she
+burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>His Lordship, completely bewildered at this unexpected turn of affairs,
+patted her on the head, saying: "Dear, dear!" much as he would have done
+to obstreperous babies suspicious of baptism. But the fair Violet wept
+on.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" said the Bishop. "What have I done?"</p>
+
+<p>"You haven't done anything," she replied between her sobs, "but I&mdash;I'm
+so dreadfully hungry."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me!" exclaimed his Lordship, "I forgot all about dinner."</p>
+
+<p>It was quite true that, in his anxiety to catch trains and make a series
+of bewildering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> connections, the question of food had entirely escaped
+his memory, and, now he came to think of it, he was ravenously hungry
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm so sorry," he said helplessly. "We must see what we can find."</p>
+
+<p>It was years since he had dared to investigate his own pantries; but
+under the spur of Miss Arminster's necessities he achieved prodigies of
+valour, even breaking into that holy of holies, his sister's jam-closet.
+The little actress aided and abetted him, creating havoc among jars of
+sardines, olives, and caviare. And then, while they were in the midst of
+their midnight orgy, a figure appeared before them&mdash;a figure clad in an
+indescribable dressing-gown and carrying a bedroom candle.</p>
+
+<p>"Josephus," said the apparition, "is that you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my dear," replied the Bishop, with his mouth full of jam tart, "it
+is."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder you've the face to enter the house!" said his sister.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"His own house! That's good," commented Miss Arminster from the midst of
+sardines.</p>
+
+<p>"I admit that the circumstances are unusual," remarked the Bishop,
+cutting himself another large slice of the pastry, "but the train
+service is most irregular, and, as you can see, it was necessary to
+bring the Leopard home to-night, and so&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Josephus!" broke in his sister, "there are no leopards in this country,
+and I <i>can</i> see that to the other sins you have undoubtedly committed
+you have added the vice of&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But she got no further, for the Bishop, casting a glance at each of the
+two women, decided that now or never was salvation at hand, and said
+brusquely:</p>
+
+<p>"Matilda, go to bed at once!"</p>
+
+<p>It was the first time he had ever spoken to her in tones of authority,
+and his sister, not believing her ears, returned to the charge.</p>
+
+<p>"And as for that shameless minx&mdash;" she continued; but his Lordship again
+interrupted, remarking severely:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Matilda, go to bed instantly!"</p>
+
+<p>But the spinster was not yet defeated.</p>
+
+<p>"Josephus!" she began, in her most approved style.</p>
+
+<p>"Go to bed!" repeated the Bishop sharply.</p>
+
+<p>For one moment she wavered. Then, realising that under the present
+conditions resistance was worse than useless, she turned slowly upon her
+heel, and marched upstairs with the air of a martyr going to the stake.</p>
+
+<p>"You were right," said his Lordship moodily, as he disposed of the last
+piece of pie-crust.</p>
+
+<p>"Right about what?" asked Violet.</p>
+
+<p>"Mud-baths," returned the Bishop.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH MISS ARMINSTER PROPOSES TO MARRY AGAIN.</h3>
+
+<p>Cecil and Miss Matilda breakfasted alone the next morning. This was not
+by intention, but by fate. Violet and the Bishop, for obvious reasons,
+kept their respective rooms. Mrs. Mackintosh had felt it her duty to
+breakfast with, and comfort, her friend in distress, likewise to receive
+an early account of the doings of the day before; while Smith and
+Spotts, hearing that the fugitives had returned, took an early breakfast
+and adjourned to the neighboring golf-links. Cecil, however, who slept
+well, came down at the usual hour, quite unconscious of what was
+impending, and calmly walked into the trap.</p>
+
+<p>After the ancient butler had passed the tea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> and toast, and then
+withdrawn, as was his wont, leaving them to carve out their own
+salvation, Miss Matilda lost no time in opening up the contest. She had
+been at swords' points with her nephew ever since the evening before, as
+a result of his stoutly maintaining his father's innocence, and the
+manner in which she reported her midnight meeting would have made even
+Marchmont envious.</p>
+
+<p>"And now of course he'll have to marry her," she wound up her recital.</p>
+
+<p>"Good heavens! I hope not!" ejaculated Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad," remarked his aunt stiffly, "that we've at least one point of
+agreement."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we are quite agreed on that," he returned. "It would never do at
+all; in fact it's quite impossible."</p>
+
+<p>"You know, then?" she demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"Know what?" he asked cautiously.</p>
+
+<p>"That she's been married dozens of times already."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think I can subscribe to more than half a dozen. But Miss
+Arminster certainly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> does seem to have a fondness for that sort of
+thing."</p>
+
+<p>"And in the face of such scandalous proceedings do you consider her a
+fit person to marry your poor misguided father?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've told you I don't approve," he said, and added: "How did you come
+to know about Miss Arminster's marriages?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Marchmont told me."</p>
+
+<p>"Confound him!"</p>
+
+<p>"Cecil! Mr. Marchmont's a gentleman."</p>
+
+<p>"He's a mischief-maker of the first water."</p>
+
+<p>"Do not let us waste time in discussing his character. The important
+question is, what are we to do about your father's marriage?"</p>
+
+<p>"Stop it."</p>
+
+<p>"But how?" she asked. "Shall I speak?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; leave it to me," he said. "I'll undertake to settle the matter.
+If you saw the Bishop, you'd only irritate him."</p>
+
+<p>"He told me to go to bed, last night, after that woman had insulted me."</p>
+
+<p>"Insulted you? I thought you told me she'd nothing to say for herself."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Her presence was an insult, and one of us leaves this house to-day,"
+replied his aunt, and swept out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>Cecil gulped down his tea, and, ringing the bell, sent an urgent message
+to Miss Arminster, requesting a meeting in his aunt's boudoir, which,
+considering the purpose of the interview, he was sure Miss Matilda would
+not object to put at her disposal.</p>
+
+<p>Violet received him in about twenty minutes, apologising for her
+charming tea-gown, on the ground of being somewhat seedy.</p>
+
+<p>"Our supper last night was rather extraordinary, you know," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I've only heard one version," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Matilda's?" she asked, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>He nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"I fancy it was lurid enough," she went on; "but your good father's out
+of leading-strings this time, and no mistake."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me all about it," he said. "I'm most anxious to know."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you are," she returned. "So here goes."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Banborough enjoyed the recital immensely, and laughed immoderately at
+certain passages.</p>
+
+<p>"So the governor knows all about our adventures?" he said, when she had
+finished. "Did he seem much upset?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only about not recognising you when you blacked his eye under the bar."</p>
+
+<p>"What a good old chap he is! Just think of his coming all that way to
+hunt me up! I wish he could have some fun out of life."</p>
+
+<p>"We must try and help him to do so," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he replied, suddenly recollecting the object of his mission.
+"It's just that that I've come about. You see he's awfully
+conscientious, and when he's thought things over a bit, helped by my
+aunt's amiable suggestions, he'll come to the conclusion that he ought
+to marry you, you know&mdash;and so&mdash;well, he'll try to do it," he ended
+lamely, hoping she would see the point without further elucidation on
+his part.</p>
+
+<p>She was quick to take him up.</p>
+
+<p>"And you don't think that's just the best<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> way for him to have a good
+time? Sour grapes&mdash;eh, my son?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; only he's certain to propose to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Supposing he has done so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;did you accept him?"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't quite see how you could&mdash;under the circumstances."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he'd only had two bottles of champagne," she said, purposely
+misunderstanding him from pure joy of seeing him flounder.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't mean that," he went on. "But, anyway, his conscience
+will reassert itself, and he'll probably propose again this
+morning&mdash;ponderously."</p>
+
+<p>"And you're afraid I might accept?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure you'd make a most charming step-mamma," he replied, "only&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Only what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only the&mdash;the others might object, mightn't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"The others?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"All the men you've married," he blurted out, "if you will have it."</p>
+
+<p>"I see," she said meditatively. "And you don't want to run the 'dear
+Bishop' in for another scandal."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, if you choose to put it that way&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It's the way you'd put it if you only had the pluck," she retorted.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you awfully angry with me?" he asked, looking at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit," she replied. "From your point of view it's quite
+justifiable, I suppose, and I'm only considering the best way out of the
+dilemma."</p>
+
+<p>"Are there several?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's only one that I care to choose."</p>
+
+<p>"And that is?"</p>
+
+<p>"I shall marry again."</p>
+
+<p>"Good heavens! not&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>"Not your father, no; some one else."</p>
+
+<p>"But surely&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>"You see," she continued calmly, ignoring his interruption, "if I marry
+some one at once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> your father can't have any feeling of&mdash;shall we say
+responsibility? And it'll not be necessary for me to go into what Miss
+Matilda would call 'my shameful past.'"</p>
+
+<p>"But I really couldn't allow&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm not going to marry you either, so you needn't be alarmed. Can't
+you make some suggestions to help me out?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid you must excuse me," he said, fast becoming scandalised at
+her matter-of-fact way of approaching the subject.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, of course," she went on thoughtfully, "there are all your
+father's chaplains, but they're young, and prone to take things
+seriously. No, I don't think they'd do. And there's the butler. No, he
+wouldn't answer, either."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps Miss Matilda would lend you Professor Smith."</p>
+
+<p>"No," she said, "I don't think I'd have the heart to deprive her of him.
+On the whole, I think I'll marry Mr. Spotts. He's nice&mdash;and handy."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But mightn't he have something to say?" began Banborough.</p>
+
+<p>"Probably," admitted Violet; "but he generally does what he's told, and
+as he isn't married to any one else, I dare say he'll prove amenable
+when he understands the position. I'll try and see him this morning,
+and," as a brilliant idea struck her, "your father shall perform the
+ceremony. I never was married by a Bishop before. Won't it be jolly!"</p>
+
+<p>"You surely can't seriously intend&mdash;" began Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do. Now don't be stupid, but run along and let me finish my
+toilet." And she ran out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>Banborough walked away in a maze. He had thought to straighten matters
+out, and he had only got them into a far worse tangle. That Miss
+Arminster had no conscientious scruples about adding another husband to
+her quota was bad enough, but that his innocent, unsuspecting father
+should be allowed to disgrace his cloth by solemnising such a marriage
+was really more than he could stand. In his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> righteous wrath he
+determined that the Bishop should know the whole truth, soothing his
+conscience by the thought that if he did not tell him, Miss Matilda
+would.</p>
+
+<p>In the hall of the palace, however, he ran across Spotts, laden with the
+implements of golf, and all unconscious of his impending fate.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, old man," said Cecil, "I want to have five minutes' chat
+with you."</p>
+
+<p>"I am quite at your service," replied his friend. "In fact I was just
+coming to look you up myself. Now that the war's over, I must really be
+thinking of going away, as I've imposed long enough already on your
+hospitality."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it isn't about that I want to see you," said Banborough. "It's
+about your getting married."</p>
+
+<p>"My getting married?" queried Spotts.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. It seems there's a lady who has matrimonial designs on you. I
+thought it was only the part of a friend to warn you in due season."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If it's your aunt," returned the actor, "I'm very much obliged. I think
+I could manage to get packed up and leave by the afternoon train."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; it isn't so bad as that," said his host. "Or, rather, it's
+worse. Miss Arminster has you under consideration."</p>
+
+<p>"As a husband?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I think she means to marry you to-morrow or next day, and have my
+father perform the ceremony."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I see. And you've some feeling about it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, yes," admitted Cecil, "I'm afraid I have."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you'd like to take my place?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, it isn't that either. Yon don't seem to see the point. Miss
+Arminster wants to marry <i>you</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, isn't that a question between Miss Arminster and myself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally. But then she's married pretty frequently, hasn't she? Of
+course, if all her husbands are dead&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no," said Spotts. "I don't think she's ever lost a husband."</p>
+
+<p>"But you surely can't contemplate&mdash;" began Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you see," contended the actor, "this is the first time she's ever
+asked me to marry her, and one can't be so ungallant as to refuse a
+lady."</p>
+
+<p>"And you'll really add yourself to her list?"</p>
+
+<p>Spotts shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear fellow," he said, "I don't want to appear rude, but this
+interference in my prospective matrimonial affairs seems to me
+ill-timed. Miss Arminster hasn't as yet proposed to me, and if she does,
+I'll probably consent to oblige her. Anyway, it's doing you a favour, as
+I suppose your father would wish to marry her if I didn't." And turning
+on his heel, he walked away.</p>
+
+<p>As he ascended the stairs, he met Violet coming down. They were standing
+on the broad landing, and for the moment were quite alone and out of
+earshot.</p>
+
+<p>"I say!" burst out the actor. "Do you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> know I have just been warned
+against you by your friend Banborough. A joke's a joke, but this is
+going too far."</p>
+
+<p>"I know, Alvy," she said, "I know, and I'm awfully sorry. But it's
+almost over."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope it is," he replied. "I have held an equivocal position for
+months, and it isn't pleasant. Why, I've practically seen nothing of
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"It hasn't been pleasant for me either, old man. But, to speak frankly,
+you know as well as I do that it's been largely a sentimental interest
+which has caused Cecil to get us all out of this scrape. However, if he
+doesn't tell his father to-day&mdash;and I tried hard enough to force him to
+do so this morning&mdash;I shall."</p>
+
+<p>"Good! Then his Lordship's Leopard will be free," said Spotts. And
+pressing her hand, he proceeded on his way upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>In the face of his two interviews, Cecil felt he had no option but to
+refer the whole matter to the Bishop, whom he found in his study. He
+received a somewhat grim reception from the old gentleman, to whom a
+sleepless night<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> had afforded ample opportunity for reflecting on the
+vagaries of his son, to which he, not altogether unjustly, attributed
+his adventures of the preceding day.</p>
+
+<p>After formal salutations had been exchanged, the younger man, feeling
+that a disagreeable business was the better over, lost no time in coming
+to the point.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know that there's anything to be said about the past, father,"
+he began.</p>
+
+<p>"I should think there was a great deal to be said," returned his
+Lordship brusquely. "But this is perhaps not the best time to say it.
+I've been told a very astonishing story by Miss Arminster."</p>
+
+<p>"About the Black Maria and&mdash;the Spanish plot?"</p>
+
+<p>"About your wretched novel, sir!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes. Well, I corroborate it all, word for word. Miss Arminster told
+me about it this morning."</p>
+
+<p>"You've seen her, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. We had a chat concerning a number of things. But, as you suggest,
+we might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> reserve the discussion of our joint American experiences till
+another occasion, so I won't mention them beyond apologising to you for
+having blacked your eye under the bar; though of course I could hardly
+have supposed that your ecclesiastical duties would have placed you in
+just that position."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, rather, the search for an unregenerate son," suggested the Bishop,
+with a twinkle in his eye which showed him to be in better humour.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, anyway, you gave as good as you got," said Cecil. "My ribs were
+sore for a week afterwards."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," replied his Lordship. "I thought I must have landed you one. I
+haven't quite forgotten the athletics of my college days."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we're quits," returned Cecil. "But it was more than good of you to
+come out there and look for me. A father who could do all that deserves
+a somewhat better son than I've been in the past; and in the future&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't say it, Cecil. I know it." And the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> Bishop gripped his hand in a
+way that caused the mental and moral atmosphere to clear instantly.</p>
+
+<p>"And now," said his son, "I want to talk about Miss Arminster."</p>
+
+<p>"It's the subject nearest my heart," replied his father.</p>
+
+<p>"I asked her to marry me at Montreal," Cecil remarked simply.</p>
+
+<p>"So I inferred from what she said on the yacht," said his Lordship.</p>
+
+<p>"And you proposed to her yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"Did she tell you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the fact is she doesn't want to marry either of us."</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop nodded his head despondently.</p>
+
+<p>"But," continued the younger man, "she contemplates marrying some one
+else."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," said his Lordship, "I'm heartily glad she proposes to
+<i>marry</i>&mdash;after yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so, and she means to ask you to perform the ceremony."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Isn't that rather&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Rubbing it in?" suggested Cecil. "So it seemed to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Who is the&mdash;er&mdash;prospective bride-groom?"</p>
+
+<p>"Spotts."</p>
+
+<p>"He seems a good fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but&mdash;will you forgive me if I speak frankly? There can't be any
+feeling of jealousy between us; we've both been worsted."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you wish to say?"</p>
+
+<p>"That I'm afraid this marriage must not be permitted. You see, Miss
+Arminster isn't quite what she seems."</p>
+
+<p>"If you're going to say anything against that young lady&mdash;!" began his
+Lordship angrily.</p>
+
+<p>"You forget," said his son, "I wanted to marry her."</p>
+
+<p>His father remembered; and remembering, said:</p>
+
+<p>"Proceed."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I found out, for myself I mean, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> Miss Arminster had been
+married a number of times."</p>
+
+<p>"A number of times!"</p>
+
+<p>"Half a dozen at least. Perhaps more."</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible!"</p>
+
+<p>"She admitted as much to me."</p>
+
+<p>"But surely&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>"As far as I know, none of her husbands has died."</p>
+
+<p>"In America," began the Bishop, "the divorce laws are lax, and
+perhaps&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, I'm sure she hasn't been divorced. I don't think she'd approve
+of it."</p>
+
+<p>"But then&mdash;it means&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that's just the point. And so another marriage with this Mr.
+Spotts&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Must be stopped at all costs!" cried his Lordship, growing very red in
+the face with agitation.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you'd feel so," said his son. "And that's why I ventured&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>At this moment Miss Matilda entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you talking about, Josephus?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> she demanded, assuming a
+domination of which she felt by no means sure. "Did I hear you mention
+that hussy's name?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was speaking," said the Bishop, "of <i>Miss Arminster</i>. Cecil tells me
+she's to marry Mr. Spotts."</p>
+
+<p>"That's impossible," snapped Miss Matilda.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" asked her brother.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean what I say. While you were shamelessly gallivanting down the
+Channel, I went over to the little church near the ruined abbey which
+you visited the day you met Mr. Marchmont, and there I found a record of
+the marriage, in 1895, of this <i>person</i> who calls herself <i>Miss</i>
+Arminster, and I say she can't marry Mr. Spotts."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because she's married to him already!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH MISS ARMINSTER VERIFIES THE PROVERB.</h3>
+
+<p>The Bishop was pacing his garden. He was far from happy. It is true he
+had not been worsted in his encounter with his sister. There had been a
+drawn battle, and he had retired with dignity, conceding nothing but
+that he would ask Miss Arminster to come to his study at noon and
+explain her position. He could not believe the charges against the
+charming Violet, but nevertheless he felt decidedly uncomfortable: for
+even if she cleared herself, she was still married, and the palace
+lacked a mistress.</p>
+
+<p>It was easy to say that Miss Matilda should be deposed, but who should
+take her place? Not another man's wife, certainly. For the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> first time
+in all these years, his Lordship realised how lonely he had been. He
+should have remarried long before, and indeed even so unworldly a person
+as he knew that more than one young lady in Blanford would have viewed
+with complacency the prospect of becoming Mrs. Bishop.</p>
+
+<p>A young wife, however, even as attractive as the fair Violet, was not,
+he told himself, exactly what he wanted. He had tried a period of double
+rule in which his sister was the power behind the throne, and it was
+infinitely worse than the present r&eacute;gime. No; if he took another
+helpmate, she must be a person of strong will, some one who could hold
+her own against all comers, some one who should have an inexhaustible
+fund of sympathy for his work, some one whose appreciation of the
+exalted position of the Bishop of Blanford should be so great as to
+blind her, occasionally at least, to those minor faults to which,
+Scripture tells us, all flesh is heir.</p>
+
+<p>It was at just this point in his meditations<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> that his Lordship, turning
+sharply round the corner of a large gooseberry-bush, came suddenly upon
+Mrs. Mackintosh. Their surprise was mutual, for the good lady had
+evidently been gardening, and was suffering from the rigour of the game.</p>
+
+<p>"That head man of yours is a duffer," she said sharply, pointing a very
+earthy trowel at the unconscious figure of the gardener, who was busy in
+the middle distance digging potatoes. "A man," she continued, "who calls
+a plain, every-day squash a vegetable marrow isn't fit to run a
+well-ordered truck-patch; though it's no more than might be expected in
+a country where they sell bread by the yard, and flour by the gallon.
+And what, I should like to know, is a 'punnet'?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid, madam, I must confess my ignorance," replied the Bishop.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought as much," she retorted. "And yet they put you in command of a
+diocese. Your gardener said to me this morning: 'I'll pick a "punnet" of
+strawberries to-day.' 'You'll do nothing of the kind,' I told him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>
+'Pick them in a Christian basket, or not at all.'"</p>
+
+<p>His Lordship laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"It's some sort of measure, I imagine," he remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't wonder. And your cook's just as bad. She asked me yesterday
+if I liked jugged hare. 'Let me see your jug,' said I, 'and then I'll
+tell you.' And as sure's I'm a sinner, she told me she never used one
+for that dish!"</p>
+
+<p>"Now you speak of it," said his Lordship, "I don't think I ever saw one
+myself. But what are you doing this morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"Straightening the peas."</p>
+
+<p>"Straightening the peas?" he asked, thoroughly mystified.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, they're all waggly. When I plant my garden I take a string and two
+pegs and plant the seed along a line; but these just seem to be put in
+anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it good for the peas?" asked the Bishop suspiciously, as he saw them
+being rooted up and reset.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I can't say," she returned sharply. "But things ought to be straight at
+an episcopal palace, if they are anywhere."</p>
+
+<p>"So they should," he admitted mournfully, "but it's far from being the
+case. That's why I came out to consult you."</p>
+
+<p>"Go ahead, then. You talk, and I'll dig."</p>
+
+<p>And while the plants were being arranged to an ecclesiastical standard,
+he retailed to her the charges against Violet.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you believe them?" she asked, jamming her trowel up to its hilt in
+the soft earth.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do not."</p>
+
+<p>"Right you are," she said. "I know the whole story, and it's nothing to
+be ashamed of, I give you my word."</p>
+
+<p>"You relieve me immensely."</p>
+
+<p>"It's merely American enterprise," continued the old lady. "That's why
+they call her the Leopard."</p>
+
+<p>"The Leopard&mdash; I don't understand. She asked me to call her that."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I won't steal her thunder. She'll tell you herself."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But she is married?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes."</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"That disappoints you?" said Mrs. Mackintosh thoughtfully, balancing a
+pea-plant in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; at least I'd hoped&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I know. She told me. We haven't any secrets from each other."</p>
+
+<p>"You see," continued his Lordship, "if my sister leaves me, I must have
+some one to take her place; otherwise&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"She won't go."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said the Bishop; "that's just the point."</p>
+
+<p>"You ought to marry at once."</p>
+
+<p>"I feel that myself; but then, you see, there's no one who would care to
+marry me&mdash;no one at least who&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You don't want a young chit."</p>
+
+<p>"No," said his Lordship. "Somebody more like you."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mackintosh paused in her gardening.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Look here," she said. "Are you going to propose to me next?"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;was&mdash;thinking of it," admitted the Bishop.</p>
+
+<p>"As a last resource?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Mrs. Mackintosh!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know as I ever could be a bishopess," replied that lady,
+inadvertently resetting a pea-plant upside down.</p>
+
+<p>"There's Jonah," said the Bishop, resorting to diplomacy. "I shall never
+be able to complete that last volume without the spur of your
+appreciative criticism."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she replied, partially relenting, "I'd do a good deal
+for&mdash;Jonah."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will!" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>"I've one row of those peas left," she returned, "and when I've reset
+them I'll give you your answer. That'll be in fifteen minutes. Now go
+away, or you'll fidget round, and I sha'n't get 'em straight." And
+without another word she resumed her digging.</p>
+
+<p>Fifteen minutes later his Lordship was at her side.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"There's one more plant left," remarked Mrs. Mackintosh, cleaning her
+trowel and addressing herself to the task.</p>
+
+<p>"And are you going to say Yes when you have finished?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said the lady, "I am, but it's mostly on account of Jonah."</p>
+
+<p>The Bishop ruthlessly set his foot on the tender shoot which intervened
+between him and happiness, crushing it to the earth.</p>
+
+<p>Some time later Mrs. Mackintosh remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"The cathedral clock is striking twelve, and you're due in the study."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean, my dear, that <i>we</i> are due," replied his Lordship.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>On their arrival in the Bishop's sanctum, they found the full force of
+the company assembled to receive them.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Matilda looked on this gathering with suspicion.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not see," she said, "the need of so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> many witnesses to what must
+prove, I fear, a humiliating confession."</p>
+
+<p>"I've come," returned Mrs. Mackintosh, "to lend moral support to&mdash;" She
+glanced at the Bishop, changed her mind, and supplemented&mdash;"Miss
+Arminster."</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I speak?" asked Miss Matilda, ignoring her remark.</p>
+
+<p>"I will speak," said his Lordship. "It is my house, and my place to do
+so."</p>
+
+<p>His sister sat down hurriedly.</p>
+
+<p>"I've sent for you, my dear," he continued, turning to Violet, "because
+certain charges have been made against you by Mr. Marchmont and&mdash;others,
+and, as my son informs me that you contemplate marrying Mr. Spotts, and
+asking me to perform the ceremony, I feel it is my duty&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"She's already&mdash;" broke in his sister.</p>
+
+<p>"I am speaking, Matilda," he said quietly, and she collapsed.</p>
+
+<p>"You mustn't think," he went on, "that my asking you to explain your
+position implies any belief on my part in the charges made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> against you.
+I've only requested this interview because I thought you'd like an
+opportunity to disprove idle gossip."</p>
+
+<p>"It's very kind of you," she replied, "and I shall avail myself of it
+gladly."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so. Now my sister tells me that she's seen, in a neighbouring
+church, the record of your marriage to Mr. Spotts. Is this so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," said Violet. "I married him there in 1895."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Matilda sniffed viciously.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Marchmont," continued the Bishop, "in whose statements, I need
+hardly say, I place no reliance, informed my sister that you had been
+married with unusual frequency; and my son tells me, also, that you've
+admitted to him a&mdash;er&mdash;a considerable number of&mdash;er&mdash;matrimonial
+alliances. Would you&mdash;er&mdash;er&mdash;consider it an intrusion on my part if I
+asked how many times you have been married?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've had the marriage service performed over me," she replied,
+"thirty-seven times in four years."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Miss Matilda threw up her hands in an access of horror.</p>
+
+<p>"But your husbands&mdash;" stammered his Lordship.</p>
+
+<p>"I never had but one husband," she said. "And here he stands." And she
+took Spotts's hand in hers.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the Bishop. "You surely haven't married him
+thirty-seven times?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that is exactly the case," she returned.</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't understand."</p>
+
+<p>"The explanation is very simple," she replied. "My husband and I are
+both actors. He plays the part of the hero, and I the part of the
+heroine. In the fifth act, after many struggles and disappointments,
+we're at last united. To have the marriage ceremony actually performed
+on the stage, or the next day at church, has always proved a great
+attraction to our audiences. At first I objected. But I've been informed
+by a competent authority in my own country that there's no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> canonical
+rule against it, and in remarrying my husband I merely renew my vows to
+him, and I've never once gone through the ceremony lightly or
+thoughtlessly. I do not defend the practice, or expect you to approve of
+it, and, now that you know the truth, I shouldn't think of asking you to
+marry us again; but I don't consider that I've done anything of which I
+need be ashamed."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me!" said the Bishop. "In my ecclesiastical position I can hardly
+approve of the course you've taken; but as a man&mdash;well, it's a great
+relief to me."</p>
+
+<p>"I consider it a sacrilege," exclaimed Miss Matilda, "and, as I remarked
+to Cecil this morning, that young person leaves the palace to-day, or I
+do!"</p>
+
+<p>"You'll naturally act as seems to you best," said her brother. "But I
+beg you to remember that I'm master of this house, and that this lady is
+my guest."</p>
+
+<p>"And who, pray, will keep your house for you when I'm gone?" she
+snapped.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure that Mrs. Spotts will attend to it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> for me until Mrs.
+Mackintosh and I are married."</p>
+
+<p>"Till you're married!" his sister repeated after him, too astounded to
+grasp fully the meaning of his words.</p>
+
+<p>"It is an event which I hope will occur shortly," her brother replied.</p>
+
+<p>"That's enough!" she retorted. "I leave Blanford this afternoon!"</p>
+
+<p>"I trust you'll not go in anger, Matilda," he said. "I'm sure a change
+will do you good. Miss Arminster&mdash;I mean Mrs. Spotts&mdash;suggests a course
+of mud-baths; and if you'll permit me to assume the expense&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Josephus!" she returned shortly, "do not add insult to injury." And she
+swept from the room.</p>
+
+<p>"I, too," said Professor Tybalt Smith, who had hitherto remained
+silent&mdash;"I, too, must be permitted to excuse myself. It may be that I
+can comfort that injured lady in her exile." And he followed her out.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm delighted!" cried Violet, seizing Mrs. Mackintosh's hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And I, too," said Cecil.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," replied his stepmother-to-be. "That pleases me more than
+anything else. I hope you'll really make Blanford your home."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall indeed," he returned, "since no one will have me as a husband."</p>
+
+<p>"You've the great success of your book to comfort you," suggested
+Violet. "What more can you ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, as it seems a day of explanations," he said, "I should really
+like to know why you're called 'the Leopard'?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's a very trifling secret after all," she replied, laughing. "But to
+have let you know it would have given away our little plot. Now it
+doesn't matter. Tell him, Alvy."</p>
+
+<p>"It's merely this," said her husband gaily: "that, as much as she may
+marry, <span class="smcap">His Lordship's Leopard can never change her Spot(t)s</span>."</p>
+
+<h3>THE END.</h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><span class="u">GODFREY'S THE HARP OF LIFE</span></h2>
+
+<p class="center">12mo. $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>A very human account of certain events in the life of the first violin
+of the Pinecliff (England) orchestra.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Boston Transcript</i>: "She has literary skill, grace, delicacy....
+Here and there are bits of description sketched in with as much
+sympathy as truthfulness.... Her artistic sense is very keen. She
+doesn't introduce a description like this for the mere sake of
+describing: something, but for the purpose of contrast with a mood
+or situation, and she never spoils a perspective. Although she is
+writing a musical novel, she never rhapsodizes.... The
+characterization is effective throughout.... This masterly tale
+cannot want for readers, it seems to us."</p>
+
+<p><i>Public Opinion</i>: "Miss Godfrey writes understandingly of music
+and the musical temperament."</p>
+
+<p><i>Outlook</i>: "There are several characters of interest, and the
+somewhat unusual situations in which they are placed are handled
+in a clever and novel manner."</p>
+
+<p><i>N.&nbsp;Y. Herald</i>: "She draws human nature, delights in the
+opposition of character, and has, in fact, written a first-rate
+modern novel."</p>
+
+<p><i>Buffalo Commercial Advertiser</i>: "A thoroughly good, strong, pure
+story."</p></div>
+
+<h2><span class="u">GODFREY'S POOR HUMAN NATURE</span></h2>
+
+<p class="center">A musical novel. <i>2d Impression</i>, 12mo. $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>The story of some Wagnerian singers at the Court Opera of Blankenstadt.
+It has been said that this name thinly veils Dresden, and that the book
+gives an intimate picture of musical life at the Saxon capital.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Bookman</i>: "It is curiously convincing. The characters, too are
+peculiarly real.... Each and every one stands out with vivid
+distinction, and is not soon to be forgotten.... The portrayal of
+local life, particularly that appertaining to operatic circles, is
+full of freshness and interest.... It is well written, it is nobly
+felt, it is altogether an admirable work."</p>
+
+<p><i>New York Tribune</i>: "One of the cleverest musical novels we know,
+and it is particularly creditable in that it holds nothing of the
+hysterical gush with which the feminine writer usually fills
+fiction of this kind.... The study of the group of singers at the
+Royal Opera in a minor German city is astonishingly well done, and
+so is the portrait of the great tenor's peasant wife ... so
+unmistakably true that she must have been drawn from life ... an
+uncommonly attractive and interesting novel."</p>
+
+<p><i>Boston Transcript</i>: "We have nothing but praise to say of this
+fine, strong tale, and can recommend it heartily and without
+qualification."</p>
+
+<p><i>Literary World</i>: "There is a distinctly original touch in this
+story.... Full of interest."</p></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h5><i><span class="u">21st Impression of a Remarkable Romance.</span></i></h5>
+
+<h2>THE GADFLY.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">By <span class="smcap">E.&nbsp;L. Voynich</span>. 12mo, cloth. $1.25.</p>
+
+<p><i>New York Tribune</i>: "It is nothing more or less than one of the most
+powerful novels of the decade.... He shows us the veritable conspirator
+of history, who plotted like a human being: and not like an operatic
+bandit.... It is a thrilling book and absolutely sober.... 'The Gadfly'
+is an original and impressive being; ... a story to remember."</p>
+
+<p><i>New York Times</i>: "Paradox worked up with intense dramatic effect is the
+salient feature of 'The Gadfly'; ... shows a wonderfully strong hand,
+and descriptive powers which are rare; ... a very remarkable romance."</p>
+
+<p><i>The Dial</i>: "One of the most interesting phases of the history of
+Nineteenth Century Europe. The story of the Italian revolutionary
+movement; ... is full of such incidents as the novelist most desires;
+... this novel is one of the strongest of the year, vivid in conception,
+and dramatic in execution, filled with intense human feeling, and worked
+up to a tremendously impressive climax."</p>
+
+<p><i>The Critic</i>: "An historical novel permeated with a deep religious
+interest in which from first to last the story is dominant and
+absorbing.... 'The Gadfly' is a figure to live in the imagination."</p>
+
+<p><i>The New York Herald</i>: "An exceptionally clever story, eminently fresh
+and original. The author has a capital story to tell, and he tells it
+consummately well.... The beaten track has not allured him, and the
+characters to whom he introduces us are not such as we meet in every-day
+novels. This is the crowning merit of this book."</p>
+
+<p><i>The Chap Book</i>: "Gives the reading public an opportunity to welcome a
+new and intense writer; ... a profound psychological study; ... a
+powerful climax. Yet, however much the imagination be used, the author
+will be found to rise beyond it; the scene at High Mass on the feast of
+Corpus Christi being one of the most powerful in English fiction."</p>
+
+<p><i>The Independent</i>: "We have read this peculiar romance with breathless
+interest; ... a romance of revolutionary experiences in Italy; lifelike,
+stirring, picturesque, a story of passion, sacrifice, and tragic
+energy."</p>
+
+<p><i>The Literary World</i>: "A powerful and picturesque story&mdash;a canvas
+glowing with color and life&mdash;the few striking characters stand out in
+firm, resolute outlines. We heartily commend 'The Gadfly.'"</p>
+
+<p><i>The Buffalo Commercial</i>: "In every way sharp, thrilling, entertaining."</p>
+
+<p><i>The Chicago Post</i>: "A powerful story, and, unlike others of its kind,
+holds the reader's attention strictly to the end."</p>
+
+<p><i>The Chicago Times-Herald</i>: "'The Gadfly' is a tremendous story. It goes
+on like a whirlwind, gathering force as it rushes."</p>
+
+<h2><span class="u">BARROW'S THE FORTUNE OF WAR</span></h2>
+
+<p>A novel of the last year of the American Revolution. 12mo. $1.25.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The scene is laid mainly in New York City during the British
+occupation, partly on one of the prison ships, and partly in the
+patriot camp at Morristown. The life in the headquarters of the
+two armies is cleverly contrasted. The story has a strong "love
+interest."</p>
+
+<p><i>N.&nbsp;Y. Times Saturday Review</i>: "The story is a good one, the
+historical data accurate, and the ways and manners of the period
+are cleverly presented."</p>
+
+<p><i>The Outlook</i>: "Miss Elizabeth Barrow has done her work, not only
+well, but delightfully well."</p>
+
+<p><i>Chicago Times-Herald</i>: "Another tale of the time of Washington,
+but one that is more deserving both of popular and critical
+appreciation than some of the much-vaunted financial successes."</p>
+
+<p><i>Springfield Republican</i>: "It gives a good picture of New York
+City as it was in the eighteenth century.... The story is
+agreeable reading."</p>
+
+<p><i>Hartford Courant</i>: "She has done good work in her romance; ... it
+is told in a very attractive way.... The book is decidedly one
+that will entertain."</p></div>
+
+<h2><span class="u">GODFREY'S THE HARP OF LIFE</span></h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Uniform with the author's "Poor Human Nature." 12mo. $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>An intensely human story of an episode in the life of the first
+violin of an orchestra, at an English watering-place. Miss Godfrey
+has again been uncommonly happy in creating a "musical
+atmosphere."</p></div>
+
+<h2><span class="u">LUCAS'S THE OPEN ROAD</span></h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>A little book for wayfarers, bicycle-wise and otherwise. Compiled
+by <span class="smcap">E.&nbsp;V. Lucas</span>, editor of "A Book of Verses for Children." With
+illustrated cover-linings. Green and gold flexible covers. 12mo.
+$1.50.</p>
+
+<p>Some 125 poems of out-door life and 25 prose passages,
+representing over 60 authors, including Fitzgerald, Shelley,
+Shakespeare, Kenneth Grahame, Stevenson, Whitman, Bliss Carman,
+Browning, William Watson, Alice Meynel, Keats, Wordsworth, Matthew
+Arnold, Tennyson, William Morris, Maurice Hewlett, Izaak Walton,
+Wm. Barnes, Herrick, Gervase Markham, Dobson, Lamb, Milton,
+Whittier, etc.</p></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h5>"<i>Better than the 'Prisoner of Zenda.'</i>"&mdash;<span class="smcap">Critic</span></h5>
+
+<h5>10th Impression of the Sequel to</h5>
+
+<h5>"The Prisoner of Zenda"</h5>
+
+<h2><span class="u">HOPE'S RUPERT OF HENTZAU</span></h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From the memoirs of Fritz von Tarlenheim. With eight full-page
+illustrations by <span class="smcap">Charles Dana Gibson</span>, 12mo, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p><i>A. Dithmar in New York Times' Saturday Review</i>: "Delightfully
+stirring and irresponsible, ... a sequel ... for a wonder as
+vigorous and powerful as its original.... It seems to bring
+romance to life again."</p>
+
+<p><i>Life</i>: "A sequel to 'Zenda' which does not let down one bit the
+high standard of chivalrous love which was the charm of that
+romance.... Mr. Hope's heroes are never dull.... These 'Zenda'
+stories have added a distinctly modern value to what men and women
+mean by the 'sense of honor.'... The closing chapters are simply
+written, elevated in sentiment, and an ideal solution of the fate
+of <i>Flavia</i> and <i>Rudolf</i>."</p>
+
+<p><i>Geo. W. Smalloy in New York Herald</i>: "A story which lays a spell
+upon you. The animation is unceasing, and so, therefore, is the
+interest.... Mr. Hope has not lost his old deftness in
+dialogue.... The scene between the two men [Sapt and James] after
+the murder ... is a masterpiece."</p>
+
+<p><i>New York Tribune</i>: "Everything moves swiftly and naturally to the
+climax, upon which, we may add, Mr. Hope has wreaked himself with
+a tact that is perhaps the best thing in the book.... It is
+absorbing, and especially is it an excellent sequel, which is more
+than can be said of most books of its kind."</p>
+
+<p><i>Springfield Republican</i>: "It is a question whether it does not
+rival 'The Prisoner of Zenda' itself in excellence.... It strikes
+a stronger and deeper note."</p>
+
+<p><i>Brooklyn Eagle</i>: "Has the ring of genuine humanity and true
+romance."</p>
+
+<p><i>Chicago Tribune</i>: "Considered as a sequel, the book is
+surprisingly good. It retains the spirit of 'Zenda,' is fertile in
+invention, swift in movement, and is of a thrilling and absorbing
+nature."</p></div>
+
+<h5>6th Impression of the New Edition of</h5>
+
+<h2><span class="u">HOPE'S PRISONER OF ZENDA</span></h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>With five full-page illustrations by <span class="smcap">Charles Dana Gibson</span>, and a
+view and plan of the castle by <span class="smcap">Howard Ince</span>. 12mo, $1.50.</p></div>
+
+<h2><span class="u">OTHER BOOKS BY ANTHONY HOPE</span></h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>With frontispieces by <span class="smcap">Rackham</span>, <span class="smcap">Russell</span>, and <span class="smcap">Wechsler</span>. 18mo, 75
+cents each.</p></div>
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Indiscretion of the Duchess</span>, <i>12th Impression</i>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Dolly Dialogues</span>, <i>10th Impression</i>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Change of Air</span>, <i>9th Impression</i>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Man of Mark</span>, <i>9th Impression</i>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Sport Royal, etc.</span>, <i>4th Impression</i>.</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h4>"Tense with sustained power."</h4>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 35em;">&mdash;<i>New York Commercial Advertiser.</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<h2>FOLLY CORNER</h2>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">By Mrs. HENRY DUDENEY</span></h3>
+
+<p class="center">12mo. $1.25.</p>
+
+<p>A novel of love against reason in conflict with love conformable to
+reason, worked out with all the power of the author's former novel, "The
+Maternity of Harriot Wicken," but much more inviting in subject,
+characters, and treatment. A distinct advance on that able work and full
+of promise for the future of this rising author. Scene, Sussex to-day.</p>
+
+<p><i>N.&nbsp;Y. Commercial Advertiser</i>: "It shows the same deep insight into the
+complications of the human soul [as did the author's earlier novel]....
+This story from the opening page is tense with sustained power and is
+surely destined to be one of the most important contributions to this
+season's fiction."</p>
+
+<p><i>N.&nbsp;Y. Mail and Express</i>: "These pictures have the true color, alive
+with the activity of nature or soothing in its quietude. They form a
+distinct feature of the book, beautify its pages and make them
+notable.... It has the elements in it of a wider popularity [than that
+of the author's earlier novel], which it deserves in every sense."</p>
+
+<p><i>Buffalo Commercial</i>: "We find just the same originality in plot, skill
+in character depiction, and the effective presentation of events [which
+characterized 'The Maternity of Harriot Wicken'].... In the story we see
+so artistic a description of the play of character, the various phases
+of human goodness and badness are so well drawn out, that the book
+deserves high praise.... The description of the life of Folly Corner,
+and the men and women seen there, is not surpassed by any work of any
+contemporary novelist. The book is a notable one every way."</p>
+
+<p><i>The Academy, London</i>: "Really interesting; ... the writing is generally
+vigorous and even brilliant. The comedy is first rate.... It is in fact
+a successful novel."</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h5>"One of the most captivating works of fiction that it has been our good
+fortune to read."&mdash;<i>Dial</i>.</h5>
+
+<h2>GOD'S PRISONER</h2>
+
+<h3>By <span class="smcap">John Oxenham</span>.</h3>
+
+<p class="center">12mo, $1.25.</p>
+
+<p>A story of adventure in England and the Southern Seas.</p>
+
+<p><i>Dial</i>: "A series of the most romantic and startling experiences. The
+author's invention is unflaggingly brilliant, and his narrative manner
+both direct and forcible.... The reader bent upon excitement alone, and
+the reader who delights in the better qualities of romance&mdash;in literary
+form and psychological portrayal&mdash;will alike find their account in a
+book which we counsel them not to miss."</p>
+
+<p><i>Book Buyer</i>: "It is not likely that any story bristles more with
+ingenious surprises.... If the reader should leave off in the middle,
+there is no doubt that he would be sorely perplexed; but it is safe to
+say that he will never have the fortitude to leave off in the middle."</p>
+
+<p><i>New York Commercial Advertiser</i>: "A very intense sort of book.... Many
+thrilling scenes and strong delineations of emotion."</p>
+
+<p><i>New York Times</i>: "A romance of adventure carried out to its ultimate
+degree."</p>
+
+<p><i>New York Tribune</i>: "By a daring abuse of coincidence the climax is made
+positively amazing.... The tale of his wanderings is well invented and
+diverting.... 'God's Prisoner' is unnatural in its tone, but it is not
+dull."</p>
+
+<p><i>New York Herald</i>: "Very entertaining reading."</p>
+
+<p><i>Literary World</i>: "So much of the interest depends on the surprises in
+the plot, that we will not even give an outline of the story, but only
+say that it holds several absorbing situations."</p>
+
+<p><i>Public Opinion</i>: "A good story.... The mystery and agony preceding the
+discovery is drawn in just the right shades. There was danger of
+overdoing it, but the author was not to be entrapped.... There are
+surprises to the end."</p>
+
+<p><i>Chicago Times-Herald</i>: "There is such power of analysis, of
+description, and of imagination, that one feels sure that he has to deal
+here with the ebullition of an uncommon mind."</p>
+
+<p><i>Saturday Review</i> (London): "He tells his tale in so brisk and plausible
+a fashion that belief comes easily."</p>
+
+<p><i>Graphic</i> (London): "Has stronger motive for a novel of romantic and
+sensational adventure than is at all usual, and to the very great
+advantage of an otherwise exciting and well-constructed story."</p>
+
+<h3>HENRY HOLT &amp; CO.</h3>
+
+<h4>29 West 23rd Street</h4>
+
+<h4>New York</h4>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's His Lordship's Leopard, by David Dwight Wells
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+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/30873.txt b/30873.txt
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+++ b/30873.txt
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of His Lordship's Leopard, by David Dwight Wells
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: His Lordship's Leopard
+       A Truthful Narration of Some Impossible Facts
+
+Author: David Dwight Wells
+
+Release Date: January 6, 2010 [EBook #30873]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HIS LORDSHIP'S LEOPARD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced from
+scanned images of public domain material from the Google
+Print project.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+HER LADYSHIP'S ELEPHANT
+
+
+By DAVID DWIGHT WELLS. With cover by WM. NICHOLSON, 10th Impression.
+12mo. $1.25.
+
+A very humorous story, dealing with English society, growing out of
+certain experiences of the author while a member of our Embassy in
+London. The elephant's experiences, also, are based on facts.
+
+_The Nation_: "He is probably funny because he cannot help it.... Again
+and again excites spontaneous laughter, is such a boon that its author
+must consent to be regarded as a benefactor of his kind without
+responsibility."
+
+_New York Tribune_: "Mr. Wells allows his sense of humor to play about
+the personalities of half a dozen men and women whose lives, for a few
+brief, extraordinary days, are inextricably intertwined with the life of
+the aforesaid monarch of the jungle.... Smacks of fun which can be
+created by clever actors placed in excruciatingly droll situations."
+
+_Philadelphia Times_: "As breezy a bit of fiction as the reading public
+has lately been offered. Amusing from the first page to the last, unique
+in conception, and absolutely uproarious in plot."
+
+_New York Commercial Advertiser_: "A really delicious chain of
+absurdities which are based upon American independence and impudence;
+... exceedingly amusing."
+
+_Outlook_: "Full of amusing situations."
+
+_Buffalo Express_: "So amusing is the book that the reader is almost too
+tired to laugh when the elephant puts in his appearance."
+
+
+HENRY HOLT & CO.
+New York.
+
+
+
+
+HIS LORDSHIP'S LEOPARD
+
+_A TRUTHFUL NARRATION OF
+SOME IMPOSSIBLE FACTS_
+
+
+BY
+DAVID DWIGHT WELLS
+_Author of "Her Ladyship's Elephant"_
+
+
+NEW YORK
+HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
+1900
+
+
+Copyright, 1900,
+BY
+HENRY HOLT & CO.
+
+
+
+
+WARNING!
+
+
+The ensuing work is a serious attempt to while away an idle hour. The
+best criticism that the author received of "Her Ladyship's Elephant" was
+from an old lady who wrote him that it had made her forget a toothache;
+the most discouraging, from a critic who approached the book as _serious
+literature_ and treated it according to the standards of _the higher
+criticism_.
+
+The author takes this occasion to state that he has never been guilty of
+writing literature, serious or otherwise, and that if any one considers
+this book a fit subject for the application of the higher criticism, he
+will treat it as a just ground for an action for libel.
+
+If the _minimum opus_ possesses an intrinsic value, it lies in the
+explanation of the whereabouts of a Spanish gunboat, which, during our
+late unpleasantness with Spain, the yellow journalists insisted was
+patrolling the English Channel, in spite of the fact that the U. S.
+Board of Strategy knew that every available ship belonging to that
+nation was better employed somewhere else.
+
+Should this _expose_ ruffle another English see, so much the worse for
+the Bishop.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+PART I.
+
+_AMERICA_.
+
+  CHAPTER I.
+
+                                                                    PAGE
+
+  IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH ACHIEVES FAME, AND THE "DAILY LEADER" A
+  "SCOOP"                                                              3
+
+  CHAPTER II.
+
+  IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH ATTEMPTS TO DRIVE PUBLIC OPINION          18
+
+  CHAPTER III.
+
+  IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH DRIVES A BLACK MARIA                      36
+
+  CHAPTER IV.
+
+  IN WHICH THE BLACK MARIA RECEIVES A NEW INMATE                      54
+
+  CHAPTER V.
+
+  IN WHICH THE PARTY RECEIVES A NEW IMPETUS                           72
+
+  CHAPTER VI.
+
+  IN WHICH THE BISHOP OF BLANFORD RECEIVES A BLACK EYE                92
+
+  CHAPTER VII.
+
+  IN WHICH A LINE IS DRAWN AND CROSSED                               107
+
+  CHAPTER VIII.
+
+  IN WHICH A LOCKET IS ACCEPTED AND A RING REFUSED                   131
+
+
+PART II.
+
+_ENGLAND_.
+
+  CHAPTER I.
+
+  IN WHICH MRS. MACKINTOSH ADMIRES JONAH                             151
+
+  CHAPTER II.
+
+  IN WHICH THE ENEMY ARRIVES                                         173
+
+  CHAPTER III.
+
+  IN WHICH PEACE IS PROPOSED AND WAR DECLARED                        198
+
+  CHAPTER IV.
+
+  IN WHICH THE BISHOP IS ABDUCTED                                    222
+
+  CHAPTER V.
+
+  IN WHICH THE BISHOP EATS JAM TART, AND MISS MATILDA HUMBLE-PIE     250
+
+  CHAPTER VI.
+
+  IN WHICH MISS ARMINSTER PROPOSES TO MARRY AGAIN                    269
+
+  CHAPTER VII.
+
+  IN WHICH MISS ARMINSTER VERIFIES THE PROVERB                       288
+
+
+
+
+PART I.
+
+
+_AMERICA_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH ACHIEVES FAME AND THE "DAILY LEADER" A
+"SCOOP."
+
+
+Cecil Banborough stood at one of the front windows of a club which faced
+on Fifth Avenue, his hands in his pockets, and a cigarette in his mouth,
+idly watching the varied life of the great thoroughfare. He had returned
+to the city that morning after a two weeks' absence in the South, and,
+having finished his lunch, was wondering how he could manage to put in
+the time till the 4:30 express left for Meadowbrook. 2 P.M., he
+reflected ruefully, was an hour when New York had no use and no
+resources for men of leisure like himself.
+
+Yet even for a mere onlooker the panorama of the street was of unusual
+interest. The avenue was ablaze with bunting, which hurrying thousands
+pointed out to their companions, while every street-corner had its
+little group of citizens, discussing with feverish energy and gestures
+of ill-concealed disquietude the situation of which the gay flags were
+the outward and visible sign. For in these latter days of April, 1898, a
+first-class Republic had, from purely philanthropic motives, announced
+its intention of licking a third-rate Monarchy into the way it should
+go. Whereat the good citizens had flung broadcast their national emblem
+to express a patriotic enthusiasm they did not feel, while the wiser
+heads among them were already whispering that the war was not merely
+unjustifiable, but might be expensive.
+
+All these matters, important as they doubtless were, did not interest
+Cecil Banborough, and indeed were quite dwarfed by the fact that this
+uncalled-for war had diverted the press from its natural functions, and
+for the time being had thrown utterly into the shade his new sensational
+novel, "The Purple Kangaroo." His meditations were, however,
+interrupted by the sound of voices using perfectly good English, but
+with an accent which bespoke a European parentage.
+
+"'The Purple Kangaroo,'" said one. "It is sufficiently striking--_Si,
+Senor_?"
+
+"It serves the purpose well, _mi amigo_," replied the other. "It is, as
+you say, striking; indeed nothing better could be devised; while its
+reputation--" And the voices died away.
+
+Cecil swung rapidly round. Two gentlemen, slight, swarthy, and evidently
+of a Latin race, were moving slowly down the long drawing-room. They
+were foreigners certainly, Spaniards possibly, but they had spoken of
+his book in no modified terms of praise. He drew a little sigh of
+satisfied contentment and turned again to the street. Ah, if his father,
+the Bishop of Blanford, could have heard!
+
+The two foreigners had meanwhile continued their conversation, though
+out of earshot. The elder was speaking.
+
+"As you say, its reputation is so slight," he said, "one of those
+ephemeral productions that are forgotten in a day, that it will serve
+our purpose well. We must have a password--the less noticeable the
+better. When do you return to Washington?"
+
+"The Legation may be closed at any moment now," replied the younger,
+seating himself carelessly on the arm of a Morris chair, "and I may be
+wanted. I go this afternoon, _a dios y a ventura_."
+
+"Softly; not so loud."
+
+"There's no one to hear. Keep us informed, I say. I'll see to the rest.
+We've our secret lines of communication nearly complete. They may turn
+us out of their capital, but--we shall know what passes. _Carramba!_
+What is that?" For, in leaning back, the speaker had come against an
+unresisting body.
+
+Springing up and turning quickly round, he saw that the chair on the arm
+of which he had been sitting was already occupied by the slumbering form
+of a youngish man with clear-cut features and a voluminous golden
+moustache.
+
+"_Madre de Dios!_ Could he have heard?" exclaimed the younger man,
+moving away.
+
+"_Malhaya!_ No!" replied the other. "These pigs of Americanos who sleep
+at noonday hear nothing! Come!" And, casting a glance of concentrated
+contempt at the huddled-up figure, he put his arm through that of his
+companion, and together they left the room.
+
+A moment later the sleeper sat up, flicked a speck of dust off his
+coat-sleeve, and, diving into a pocket, produced a note-book and blue
+pencil and began to write rapidly. Evidently his occupation was a
+pleasant one, for a broad smile illumined his face.
+
+"Ah, Marchmont," said Banborough, coming towards him, "didn't know you'd
+waked up."
+
+"Was I asleep?"
+
+"Rather. Don't suppose you saw those Spanish Dons who went out just
+now?"
+
+"Spaniards?" queried Marchmont, with a preoccupied air. "What about
+'em?"
+
+"Oh, nothing in particular, only I supposed that a Spaniard to a yellow
+journalist was like a red rag to a bull. You should make them into
+copy--'Conspiracy in a Fifth Avenue Club,' etc."
+
+"Thanks," said the other, "so I might. Valuable suggestion." And he
+returned his note-book to his pocket.
+
+"They did me a good turn, anyway," resumed Banborough. "They were
+talking about my book--thought it would serve its purpose, was very
+striking, said nothing better could be devised; and they were
+foreigners, too. I tell you what it is, Marchmont, the public will wake
+up to the merits of 'The Purple Kangaroo' some day. Why doesn't the
+_Daily Leader_ notice it?"
+
+"My dear Cecil, give me the space and I'll write a critique the fulsome
+flattery of which will come up to even your exacting demands. But just
+at present we're so busy arousing popular enthusiasm that we really
+haven't time."
+
+"You never do have time," replied Banborough, a trifle petulantly,
+"except for sleeping after lunch."
+
+"Ah, that's all in the day's work. But tell me. You're an Englishman;
+why didn't you publish your book in your own country?"
+
+"I may be green, but I don't impart confidences to an American
+journalist."
+
+"Nonsense! I never betray my friends' confidences when it's not worth--I
+should say, out of business hours."
+
+The Englishman laughed.
+
+"Oh, if you don't think it worth while," he said, "I suppose there's no
+danger, so I'll confess that my literary exile is purely to oblige my
+father."
+
+"The Bishop of Blanford?"
+
+"The Bishop of Blanford, who has the bad taste to disapprove of 'The
+Purple Kangaroo.'"
+
+"Has he ever read it?"
+
+"Of course not; the ecclesiastical mind is nothing if not dogmatic."
+
+"My dear fellow, I was only trying to assign a reason."
+
+"Chaff away, but it's principally my Aunt Matilda."
+
+"The Bishop, I remember, is a widower."
+
+"Rather. My aunt keeps house for him."
+
+"Ah, these aunts!" exclaimed the journalist. "They make no end of
+trouble--and copy."
+
+"It's not so bad as that," said Cecil; "but she rules the governor with
+a rod of iron, and she kicked up such a row about my book that I dropped
+the whole show."
+
+"Don't correspond with 'em?"
+
+"Not on my side. I receive occasional sermons from Blanford."
+
+"Which remain unanswered?"
+
+Cecil nodded, and changed the subject.
+
+"You know my father's cathedral?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, yes. The verger prevented my chipping off a bit of the high altar
+as a memento the last time I was over. You English are so beastly
+conservative. Not that the Bishop had anything to do with it."
+
+Banborough laughed, and returned to the charge.
+
+"So I came abroad," he continued, "and approached the most respectable
+and conservative firm of publishers I could find in New York."
+
+"Was that out of consideration for the Bishop?"
+
+"I thought it might sweeten the pill. But somehow the book doesn't
+sell."
+
+"Advertising, my boy--that's the word."
+
+"The traditions of the firm forbid it," objected Banborough.
+
+"Traditions! What's any country less than a thousand years old got to do
+with traditions?" spluttered Marchmont. "I knew a Chicago author who got
+a divorce every time he produced a new novel. They sold like hot cakes."
+
+"And the wives?"
+
+"Received ten per cent. of the profits as alimony."
+
+"Talk sense, and say something scandalous about me in the _Leader_. What
+possessed you, anyway, to join such a disgraceful sheet?"
+
+"If I'd an entailed estate and an hereditary bishopric, I wouldn't. As
+it is, it pays."
+
+"The bishopric isn't hereditary," said Cecil. "I wish it were. Then I
+might have a chance of spending my life in the odour of sanctity and
+idleness, and the entail is--a dream."
+
+"So you write novels," retorted Marchmont, "that are neither indecent
+nor political, and expect 'em to succeed. Callow youth! Well, I must be
+off to the office. I've some copy up my sleeve, and if it's a go it'll
+give your book the biggest boom a novel ever had."
+
+"Are you speaking the truth?" said the Englishman. "I beg your pardon. I
+forgot it was out of professional hours."
+
+"Wait and see," replied the journalist, as he strolled out of the club.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Hi, Marchmont, I've got a detail for you!" called the editor, making
+the last correction on a belated form and attempting to revivify a cigar
+that had long gone out.
+
+"Yes?" queried Marchmont, slipping off his coat and slipping on a pair
+of straw cuffs, which was the chief reason why he always sported
+immaculate linen.
+
+"We're on the track of a big thing. Perhaps you don't know that the
+President has delivered an ultimatum, and that our Minister at Madrid
+has received his passports?"
+
+"Saw it on the bulletin-board as I came in," said his subordinate
+laconically.
+
+"Well, it's a foregone conclusion that the Spanish Legation will
+establish a secret service in this country, and the paper that shows it
+up will achieve the biggest scoop on record."
+
+"Naturally. But what then?"
+
+"Why, I give the detail to you. You don't seem to appreciate the
+situation, man. It's the chance of a lifetime."
+
+"Quite so," replied Marchmont, lighting a cigarette.
+
+"But you can't lose a minute."
+
+"Oh, yes, I can--two or three. Time for a smoke, and then I'll write you
+a first-column article that'll call for the biggest caps you have in
+stock."
+
+"But I-- What the-- Say, you know something!"
+
+"I know that the secret service has been organised, I know the
+organisers, and I know the password."
+
+Here Marchmont's chief became unquotable, lapsing into unlimited
+profanity from sheer joy and exultation.
+
+"I'll give you a rise if you pull this off!" he exclaimed, after hearing
+the recital of the events at the club. "May I be"--several things--"if I
+don't! Now what are you going to do about it?"
+
+"Suppose we inform the nearest police station, have the crowd arrested,
+and take all the glory ourselves."
+
+"Suppose we shut up shop and take a holiday," suggested the chief, with
+a wealth of scorn.
+
+"Well, what have you to propose?"
+
+"We must work the whole thing through our detective agency."
+
+"But we haven't a detective agency," objected Marchmont.
+
+"But we will have before sunset," said the chief. "There's O'Brien--"
+
+"Yes. Chucked from Pinkerton's force for habitual drunkenness,"
+interjected his subordinate.
+
+"Just so," said the editor, "and anxious to get a job in consequence.
+He'll be only too glad to run the whole show for us. The city shall be
+watched, and the first time 'The Purple Kangaroo' is used in a
+suspicious sense we'll arrest the offenders, discover the plot, and the
+_Daily Leader_, as the defender of the nation and the people's bulwark,
+will increase its circulation a hundred thousand copies! It makes me
+dizzy to think of it! I tell you what it is, Marchmont, that
+subeditorship is still vacant, and if you put this through, the place is
+yours."
+
+The reporter grasped his chief's hand.
+
+"That's white of you, boss," he said, "and I'll do it no matter what it
+costs or who gets hurt in the process."
+
+"Right you are!" cried his employer. "The man who edits this paper has
+got to hustle. Now don't let the grass grow under your feet, and we'll
+have a drink to celebrate."
+
+When the chief offers to set up a _sub_ it means business, and Marchmont
+was elated accordingly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At the Club the Bishop's son still contemplated the Avenue from the
+vantage-point of the most comfortable armchair the room possessed.
+Praise, he reflected, which was not intended for the author's ear was
+praise indeed. No man could tell to what it might lead. No one indeed,
+Cecil Banborough least of all, though he was destined to find out before
+he was many hours older; for down in the editorial sanctum of the _Daily
+Leader_ O'Brien was being instructed:
+
+"And if you touch a drop during the next week," reiterated the chief,
+"I'll put a head on you!"
+
+"But supposin' this dago conspiracy should turn out to be a fake?"
+objected the Irishman.
+
+"Then," said the reporter with determination, "you'll have to hatch one
+yourself, and I'll discover it. But two things are certain. Something's
+got to be exposed, and I've got to get that editorship."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH ATTEMPTS TO DRIVE PUBLIC OPINION.
+
+
+It is a trifle chilly in the early morning, even by the first of May,
+and Cecil shivered slightly as he paced the rustic platform at
+Meadowbrook with his publisher and host of the night before.
+
+"You see," the great man was saying, "there's an etiquette about all
+these things. We can't advertise our publications in the elevated trains
+like tomato catsup or the latest thing in corsets. It's not dignified.
+The book must succeed, if at all, through the recognised channels of
+criticism and on its own merits. Of course it's a bad season. But once
+the war's well under way, people will give up newspapers and return to
+literature."
+
+"Meantime it wants a boom," contended the young Englishman, with an
+insistence that apparently jarred on his hearer, who answered shortly:
+
+"And that, Mr. Banborough, it is not in my power to give your book, or
+any other man's."
+
+There was an element of finality about this remark which seemed to
+preclude further conversation, and Cecil took refuge in the morning
+paper till the train pulled into the Grand Central Station, when the two
+men shook hands and parted hurriedly, the host on his daily rush to the
+office, the guest to saunter slowly up the long platform, turning over
+in his mind the problems suggested by his recent conversation.
+
+The busy life of the great terminus grated upon him, and that is perhaps
+the reason why his eye rested with a sense of relief on a little group
+of people who, like himself, seemed to have nothing particular to do.
+They were six in number, two ladies and four gentlemen, and stood
+quietly discussing some interesting problem, apparently unconscious of
+the hurrying crowds which were surging about them.
+
+Cecil approached them slowly, and was about to pass on when his
+attention and footsteps were suddenly arrested by hearing the younger of
+the two ladies remark in a plaintive voice:
+
+"But that doesn't help us to get any breakfast, Alvy."
+
+"No, or dinner either," added the elder lady.
+
+"Well," rejoined the gentleman addressed as "Alvy," who, in contrast to
+the frock coats and smart tailor-made gowns of his three companions,
+wore an outing suit, a short overcoat of box-cloth, a light, soft hat,
+and a rather pronounced four-in-hand tie. "Well, I'm hungry myself, as
+far as that goes."
+
+Banborough was astonished. These fashionably dressed people in need of a
+meal? Impossible! And yet--he turned to look at them again. No, they
+were not quite gentlefolk. There was _something_-- He stumbled and
+nearly fell over a dress-suit case, evidently belonging to one of the
+party, and marked in large letters, "H. Tybalt Smith. A. B. C.
+Company."
+
+Actors, of course. That explained the situation--and the clothes.
+Another company gone to pieces, and its members landed penniless and in
+their costumes. It was too bad, and the young woman was so very
+good-looking. If only he had some legitimate excuse for going to their
+assistance.
+
+Suddenly he stood motionless, petrified. An idea had occurred to him,
+the boldness and originality of which fairly took his breath away. "The
+Purple Kangaroo" wanted advertising, and his publishers refused to help
+him. Well, why should he not advertise it himself? To think was to act.
+Already the company were starting in a listless, dispirited way towards
+the door. The Englishman summoned all his resolution to his aid, and,
+overcoming his insular reticence, approached the leader of the party,
+asking if he were Mr. Smith.
+
+"H. Tybalt Smith, at your service, sir," replied that portly and
+imposing individual.
+
+Cecil Banborough bowed low.
+
+"I hope you'll not think me intrusive," he said, "but I judge that
+you're not now engaged, and as I'm at present in want of the services of
+a first-class theatrical company, I ventured to address you."
+
+"The manager skipped last evening," remarked the man in mufti.
+
+"Alvy," corrected Mr. Smith, "I will conduct these negotiations. As Mr.
+Spotts says, sir," he continued, indicating the last speaker, "with a
+colloquialism that is his distinguishing characteristic, our manager is
+not forthcoming, and--a--er--temporary embarrassment has resulted, so
+that we should gladly accept the engagement you offer, provided it is
+not inconsistent with the demands of art."
+
+"Oh, cut it short, Tyb," again interrupted the ingenuous Spotts.
+
+Mr. Smith cast a crushing glance at the youth, and, laying one hand
+across his ample chest, prepared to launch a withering denunciation at
+him, when Cecil came to the rescue.
+
+"I was about to suggest," he said, "that if you've not yet breakfasted
+you would all do so with me, and we can then discuss this matter at
+length."
+
+Mr. Smith's denunciation died upon his lips, and a smile of ineffable
+contentment lighted up his face.
+
+"Sir," he said, "we are obliged--vastly obliged. I speak collectively."
+And he waved one flabby hand towards his companions. "I have not,
+however, the honour of knowing your name."
+
+Cecil handed him his card.
+
+"Ah, thanks. Mr. Banborough. Exactly. Permit me to introduce myself: H.
+Tybalt Smith, Esq., tragedian of the A. B. C. Company. My companions are
+Mr. Kerrington, the heavy villain; Mr. Mill, the leading serious. Our
+juvenile, Mr. G. Alvarado Spotts, has already sufficiently introduced
+himself. The ladies are Mrs. Mackintosh, our senior legitimate,"
+indicating the elder of the two, who smilingly acknowledged the
+introduction in such a good-natured, hearty manner that for the moment
+her plain, almost rugged New England countenance was lighted up and she
+became nearly handsome. "And," continued Mr. Smith, "our leading lady,
+the Leopard-- I mean Miss Violet Arminster," pointing to the bewitching
+young person in the tailor-made gown.
+
+Each of the members bowed as his or her name was spoken, and the
+tragedian continued:
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen of the A. B. C. Company, I have much pleasure in
+introducing to you--my friend--Mr. Cecil Banborough, who has kindly
+invited you to breakfast at--the Murray Hill? Shall we say the Murray
+Hill? Yes."
+
+The ensuing hour having been given up to the serious pursuit of
+satisfying healthy appetites, the members of the A. B. C. Company heaved
+sighs of pleasurable repletion, and prepared to listen to their host's
+proposition in a highly optimistic mood. Banborough, who had already
+sufficiently breakfasted, employed the interval of the meal in talking
+to Miss Arminster and in studying his guests. Mrs. Mackintosh, who
+seemed to take a motherly interest in the charming Violet, and whose
+honest frankness had appealed to him from the first, appeared to be the
+good genius of the little company. As he came to know her better during
+the next few days, under the sharp spur of adversity, he realised more
+and more how much goodness and strength of character lay hidden under
+the rough exterior and the sharp tongue, and his liking changed into an
+honest admiration. Mr. Smith was ponderous and egotistical to the last
+degree, while Spotts seemed hail-fellow-well-met, the jolliest,
+brightest, most good-looking and resourceful youth that Cecil had met
+for many a long day. The other two men were the most reserved of the
+company, saying little, and devoting themselves to their meal. But it
+was to Miss Arminster that he found himself especially attracted. From
+the first moment that he saw her she had exercised a fascination over
+him, and even his desire for the success of his book gave way to his
+anxiety for her comfort and happiness. She was by no means difficult to
+approach; they soon were chatting gaily together, and by the time the
+repast was finished were quite on the footing of old friends--so much
+so, indeed, that Cecil ventured to ask her a question which had been
+uppermost in his mind for some time.
+
+"Why did Mr. Smith call you the Leopard when he introduced you to me at
+the station?" he said.
+
+"Oh," she answered, laughing, "that's generally the last bit of
+information my friends get about me. It has terminated my acquaintance
+with a lot of gentlemen. Do you think you'd better ask it, just when we
+are beginning to know one another?"
+
+"Are you another Lohengrin," he said, "and will a white swan come and
+carry you off as soon as you've told me?"
+
+"More probably a cable-car," she replied, "seeing we're in New York."
+
+"Then I shall defer the evil day as long as possible," he answered.
+
+"You seem to forget," she returned, "that I don't know as yet what our
+business relations are to be."
+
+"And you seem to forget," he replied, "that there are still some
+strawberries left on that dish."
+
+She sighed regretfully, saying:
+
+"I'm afraid they must go till next time--if there's to be a next time."
+
+Banborough vowed to himself that instead of confining the advertisement
+of his book to the city alone, he would extend it to Harlem and
+Brooklyn--yes, and to all New York State, if need be, rather than forego
+the delight of her society.
+
+"Isn't your father an English bishop?" continued Miss Arminster,
+interrupting his reverie.
+
+"Now how on earth did you know that?" exclaimed Cecil.
+
+The little actress laughed.
+
+"Oh, I know a lot of things," she said. "But I was merely going to
+suggest that we call you 'Bishop' for short. Banborough's much too long
+a name for ordinary use. What do you say, boys?" turning to the men of
+the company.
+
+A chorus of acclamation greeted this sally, and to the members of the
+A. B. C. Company Cecil Banborough was 'the Bishop' from that hour.
+
+"And now," said the Englishman, "that you've christened me, suppose we
+come to the business in hand?"
+
+Every one was at once intently silent.
+
+"I am," he continued, "the author of 'The Purple Kangaroo.'"
+
+The silence became deeper. The audience were politely impressed, and the
+heavy villain did a bit of dumb show with the leading serious, which
+only needed to have been a trifle better to have proved convincing.
+
+"Yet," continued the author, "owing to the popular interest in an
+imminent war and a lack of energy on the part of my publishers, the book
+doesn't sell."
+
+"Impossible!" exclaimed Mr. Smith. "Impossible! Why, I was saying only
+the other day to Henry Irving, 'Hen,' I said--I call him 'Hen' for
+short,--'that book--'"
+
+"What you say doesn't cut any ice," broke in Spotts. "What were you
+saying, sir?"
+
+"I was about to remark," continued Banborough, "that what the novel
+needs is advertising. For an author to make the round of the shops is so
+old an artifice that any tradesman would see through it."
+
+"It is," interjected the tragedian. "I have more than once demanded the
+lower right-hand box when I was playing the leading role."
+
+"And always got it," added Spotts. The silence was appalling, and Cecil
+rushed into the breach, saying:
+
+"It's occurred to me, however, that if a number of people, apparently in
+different walks of life, were to call at the various bookshops and
+department stores of the city, demanding copies of 'The Purple
+Kangaroo,' and refusing to be satisfied with excuses, it might create a
+market for the book."
+
+"A first-rate idea!" cried Spotts heartily.
+
+"But supposing it was in stock?" suggested the more cautious duenna.
+
+"I shall of course see you're provided with funds for such an
+emergency," the author hastened to add; "and if you ladies and gentlemen
+feel that you could canvass the city thoroughly in my interests at--ten
+dollars a day and car-fares?" he ventured, fearing he had offered too
+little.
+
+"I should rather think we do," said Spotts emphatically. "Ten dollars a
+day and car-fares is downright luxury compared with one-night stands and
+a salary that doesn't get paid. You're a might good fellow, Mr.
+Banborough," continued the young actor, "and Violet and I and the rest
+of the company will do our best to make your book a howling success."
+And as he spoke he laid his hand familiarly on the little actress's
+shoulder, an action which did not altogether please Cecil, and made him
+realise that in the attractive young comedian he had found a strong
+rival for Miss Arminster's favour.
+
+"Well, then, we'll consider it settled," he said; whereat the company
+arose and clasped his hands silently. Their satisfaction was too deep
+for words. Spotts was the first to rouse himself to action.
+
+"Come," he said, "we mustn't lose any time. Your interests are ours now,
+Mr. Banborough, and the sooner we get to work the more thoroughly we'll
+earn our salary," and touching a bell, he said to the answering
+messenger:
+
+"Bring me a New York directory," thereby showing an honest activity
+which was much appreciated by his employer.
+
+An hour later, the company, fully primed, departed joyfully on their
+mission.
+
+Banborough, rich in the comforting sense of a good morning's work well
+accomplished, retired to his club to dream of the success of his book.
+In spirit he visited the book-stalls, noting the growing concern of the
+clerks as they were obliged to turn away customer after customer who
+clamoured for "The Purple Kangaroo." He saw the hurried consultations
+with the heads of firms, who at length realised their blind stupidity
+in neglecting to stock their shelves with the success of the season. He
+saw the dozens of orders which poured into the publishing house, and
+heard in fancy that sweetest of all announcements that can fall upon an
+author's ears: "My dear sir, we have just achieved another edition."
+
+So dreaming, he was rudely awakened by a slap on the shoulder, and the
+cheerful voice of Marchmont, saying:
+
+"Who's asleep this time?"
+
+"Not I," replied his friend, "only dreaming."
+
+"Of the success of 'The Purple Kangaroo'?" asked the journalist. "Well,
+you'll have it, old man--see if you don't--and live to bless the name of
+Marchmont and the _Daily Leader_. Why, thousands will be reading your
+book before the week's out."
+
+"What do you mean?" gasped the Englishman. "Surely you don't know--?"
+For he feared the discovery of his little plot.
+
+"Know!" replied the journalist. "I know that your book has leaped at one
+bound from fiction to the exalted sphere of politics. Now don't you
+breathe a word of this, for it's professional, but the Spanish
+secret-service agents have taken the title of your novel as their
+password. The city is watched by our own special corps of detectives,
+and the instant 'The Purple Kangaroo' is used in a suspicious sense we
+arrest the spies and unravel the plot."
+
+"But, good heavens, man! You don't understand--" began Banborough.
+
+"I understand it all. I tell you the _Daily Leader_ will not shrink from
+its duty. It'll leave no stone unturned to hound the offenders down. I
+dare say they may be making arrests even now, and once started, we'll
+never pause till every Spanish sympathiser who has knowledge of the plot
+is under lock and key."
+
+"Stop! Stop!" cried Cecil. "You don't know what you're doing!"
+
+"Oh, trust me for that, and think of the boom your book'll get. I'll
+make it my special care. I tell you 'The Purple Kangaroo' will be all
+the rage."
+
+"But you're making a ghastly mistake," insisted the author. "You must
+listen to me--"
+
+"Can't!" cried Marchmont, springing up as the sound of shouts and
+clanging bells fell upon his ear. "There's a fire! See you later!" and
+he dashed out of the club and was gone.
+
+Cecil sank back in his chair fairly paralysed.
+
+"Good heavens! Suppose any of the company should be suspected or
+arrested! Supposing--"
+
+"A gentleman to see you, sir," said a page at his elbow.
+
+"Show him in!" cried Banborough, fearing the worst, as he read Tybalt
+Smith's name on the card.
+
+There was no need to have given the message. The actor was at the page's
+heels, dishevelled, distraught.
+
+"Do you know we're taken for Spanish spies?" he gasped.
+
+"Yes, yes; I've just heard--"
+
+"But they've arrested--"
+
+"Not one of your companions--Spotts, Kerrington, or Mill?"
+
+"No," said the tragedian, shaking his head, "they've arrested Miss
+Arminster."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+IN WHICH CECIL BANBOROUGH DRIVES A BLACK MARIA.
+
+
+Cecil Banborough's feelings can be better imagined than described at the
+announcement of the calamity which had befallen Miss Arminster. The
+winsome ways of the charming Violet had impressed the young man more
+deeply than he knew until he was brought face to face with a realisation
+of the miseries to which his own folly had exposed her.
+
+"Where have they taken her?" he demanded of Smith as soon as his
+consternation could find expression.
+
+"She's at the police station round the corner from here."
+
+"Where did this occur?" asked Banborough.
+
+"On Fourteenth Street," replied Smith, "Spotts and I met Miss
+Arminster, and she called out as she passed me, 'Don't forget "The
+Purple Kangaroo!"' A minute later the police arrested her, and when the
+crowd heard that she was a Spanish spy, I swear I think they'd have torn
+her in pieces if the officers hadn't put her in a prison van and got her
+away."
+
+The tragedian paused, shivering from his recent agitation, and Cecil,
+seeing his condition, rang for some brandy.
+
+"But what does it all mean?" asked the actor, tossing off his drink.
+
+"I know what it means," cried Banborough, "but there's no time to talk
+now. We've not a moment to lose!" and he rushed downstairs.
+
+Spotts met them at the doorway, and, as they walked rapidly along, the
+young Englishman poured into his companions' ears an account of what he
+had learned from Marchmont of the Spanish plot and the unforeseen use
+which had been made of the title of his book, while the tragedian
+rehearsed again the story of Miss Arminster's arrest, of his own
+hair-breadth escape from the clutches of the law, of his prodigies of
+valour in connection with Spotts, whom he had met in his headlong
+flight, and who, it seemed, had prevailed on his more timid companion to
+follow the prisoner in a hansom.
+
+"It's a bad business," admitted Cecil; "but what's to be done?"
+
+"Done!" exclaimed Smith in tragic tones. "Why, rescue the lady instantly
+and leave the city without delay. In the present excited state of the
+public no amount of explanation will avail. We may all be arrested as
+confederates. We must act!"
+
+"You're talking sense for once," said Spotts. "Heroic measures are the
+only ones worth considering, and if you"--turning to Banborough--"will
+stand by us, we may come out on top after all."
+
+"You can depend on me to any extent," declared the young author. "I've
+got you into this scrape, and I'll do my best to get you out of it."
+
+"That's just what I expected of you, Bishop!" exclaimed Spotts, grasping
+his hand. "We can't waste time in talking. You must go and find the
+other members of the company, Tyb, and warn them of their danger. Now
+where can we rendezvous outside the city? Speak quickly, some one!"
+
+"The leading hotel in Yonkers," said Smith.
+
+"Right you are," replied Spotts. "Get there as soon as possible and wait
+for us to turn up. How about funds?"
+
+"I've plenty of ready money with me," volunteered Cecil, "and very
+fortunately a draft to my credit arrived to-day, which I've not yet
+cashed."
+
+"Good!" said Spotts. "We're in luck. Give Tyb fifty."
+
+Banborough whipped out a roll of bills and handed the desired amount to
+the tragedian without demur.
+
+"Now, off you go," cried his brother actor, "and keep your wits about
+you."
+
+Smith nodded and hailed a passing cab.
+
+"Come," said Spotts to the author, "we've no time to lose."
+
+"What's your plan?" asked Cecil as they swung round the corner and
+sighted the police station.
+
+"Haven't got any as yet. We'll see how the land lies first. The Black
+Maria's still before the door. That's lucky!"
+
+Sure enough, there it was, looking gloomily like an undertaker's wagon,
+minus the plate glass.
+
+"Must be hot inside," commented the actor, directing a glance at the two
+little grated slits high up in the folding doors at the back, which
+apparently formed the only means of ventilation.
+
+Cecil shuddered as he thought of the discomforts which the girl must be
+enduring, and longed to throw himself upon the vehicle and batter it to
+pieces. But calmer judgment prevailed, and controlling himself he
+approached the police station, saying:
+
+"Let me go first. You might be recognised. I'll try and find out where
+she's to be taken."
+
+He accordingly went up to the driver of the Black Maria, who, cap in
+hand, was wiping his perspiring forehead.
+
+"A fine pair of horses that," he said, indicating the mettlesome bays
+attached to the vehicle, which, in spite of their brisk run, were
+tossing their heads and fretting to be off.
+
+"Oh, they're good enough," was the curt reply. "A trifle fresh, but we
+need that in our business."
+
+"Something interesting on to-day?" queried Cecil.
+
+"Who the devil are you, anyway?" asked the driver abruptly. And the
+Englishman, lying boldly, replied:
+
+"I'm the new reporter on the _Daily Leader_. I was here last week with
+Mr. Marchmont on a burglary case."
+
+"Oh, the New Rochelle robbery," suggested the driver.
+
+Cecil acquiesced, drawing a quiet sigh of relief that his random shot
+had hit the mark.
+
+"Yes," he said, "that's it. I was introduced round, but I don't remember
+meeting you."
+
+"Might have been the other driver, Jim?"
+
+"Now I come to think of it, it was Jim."
+
+"Jus' so. Well, there's copy for you in this case."
+
+"So I imagined. It's your first political arrest, isn't it?"
+
+"That's where the hitch comes in," said the man. "I don't know where to
+deliver the prisoner. When the court's made up its mind they'll let me
+know, and I'll drive on. Now in the Civil War we sent them politicals to
+Fort Wadsworth."
+
+"So you have to wait till they decide?"
+
+"You bet I have. And there ain't no superfluity of shade on the sunny
+side of this street neither," replied the driver, as he slipped off his
+coat and hung it with his cap on a peg beside the box seat of the Black
+Maria.
+
+"Suppose you were to run into the court and see how they're getting on,"
+suggested Banborough, slipping a coin into his hand. "I want a word with
+the police when they've finished. Mention the _Daily Leader_. I'll
+watch your horses."
+
+"Oh, they'll stand quiet enough," said the man. Then, suspiciously,
+jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards Spotts, he asked: "Who's yer
+pal?"
+
+"Just a green hand whom I'm initiating into the business."
+
+"You're pretty green yourself or you wouldn't have set me up," said the
+driver. "But if you'll mind them horses I'll just run across to
+McCafferty's saloon and have a schooner of beer, and then drop into
+court for you."
+
+"All right," responded Cecil. "Only don't be all day; I've got another
+detail."
+
+"Say," rejoined the man, "I can put beer down quicker than you can
+wink." And he ran across the street.
+
+"Well, what's to be done?" demanded Banborough, as the man left them.
+
+"That's easily answered," replied Spotts. "When he's in court we'll jump
+on the box, drive for all we're worth till we've eluded pursuit, then
+rescue Miss Arminster and be off to Yonkers."
+
+"But that's laying ourselves open to arrest," expostulated the
+Englishman.
+
+"We've done that already," said his friend.
+
+"But they'll know we're not officials: we've no uniform."
+
+"What, not when the driver has obligingly left his hat and coat?" said
+Spotts. "Slip them on. You've dark trousers, and no one will suspect."
+
+"But driving fast--?" protested the author.
+
+"Well, we're going to a 'hurry call,' of course. You've no invention,
+man! And besides, I can't drive."
+
+"Oh, that doesn't matter," said Banborough. "I understand all about
+horses."
+
+"So I supposed, as you're an Englishman."
+
+"I don't care much for this business, you know," remonstrated the
+unfortunate author.
+
+"Neither do I," replied the actor. "But we might as well be killed for a
+sheep as a lamb, and we've a good chance of winning. Here comes the
+driver; give him a bluff."
+
+"I ain't lost much time," panted that individual as he passed them,
+wiping the foam from his moustache with the back of his hand, and
+adding: "I'll run right into court and be out again in a jiffy!"
+
+"Stay long enough to see how things are going," called Cecil.
+
+"All right! Guess the horses'll stand," he replied, and disappeared
+within the building.
+
+"Now, Bishop!" cried Spotts. And before the Englishman could think, his
+coat and hat had been whipped off and thrown on the box seat along with
+a small handbag which the actor carried, and he was being helped into
+the very hot and unsavoury clothes of the driver.
+
+"Lucky they fit you," said his friend. "Lead the horses carefully to the
+corner, and see they don't make more noise than necessary. If the driver
+should come out, you let 'em go; otherwise wait for me. Know where to
+drive?"
+
+"Along the park?"
+
+"No," said Spotts. "Double several times, then try one of the avenues to
+the Harlem River. There are plenty of bridges. Now, careful!" And as
+Cecil moved slowly off, leading the horses towards the upper corner, the
+actor lounged up to the entrance of the court, blocking the doorway with
+his athletic figure.
+
+After what seemed an eternity, Banborough achieved the corner of the
+block, and, mounting the box, turned the horses' heads down the side
+street, keeping an eagle eye upon the entrance of the court-room, within
+which his companion had now disappeared. Perhaps three minutes had
+elapsed when the actor came out, running quietly towards him so as not
+to attract attention. The street was well-nigh deserted, and no one
+seemed to have noticed the movements of the Black Maria.
+
+"Walk slowly till we're round the corner, and then drive for all you're
+worth!" gasped Spotts, springing on to the seat beside him.
+
+Cecil followed his directions implicitly, and a moment later they went
+tearing down the side street, and swung round the corner into an avenue,
+nearly colliding with a cable-car in the process, and causing a wild
+scatteration of passengers and pedestrians.
+
+"Here, that won't do!" cried the actor above the rattle occasioned by
+their rapid progress over the cobblestones. "Ring the bell, or we'll be
+arrested!"
+
+"Where?" called Banborough.
+
+"That knob under your feet. Press it!"
+
+The Englishman did as directed, and instantly the most hideous clamour
+arose beneath the carriage. The horses, which had been flying before,
+excited by the noise, put down their heads and tore blindly forward. The
+vehicle rocked and swayed, and the avenue and its occupants swept by in
+an indistinguishable blur.
+
+"They'll surely track us by the noise!" screamed Cecil, trying to make
+himself heard above the horrible din.
+
+"We're too far off by this time," returned Spotts. "Can you manage the
+horses?"
+
+"Oh, they're all right so long as we've a clear road!" yelled Banborough
+in reply.
+
+They were now well under way, the traffic ahead of them swerving wildly
+to right and left at the insistent clamour of the bell. They rushed
+forward by leaps and bounds, an occasional stretch of asphalt giving
+them an instant's respite from the dreadful shaking of the cobblestones.
+They spoke but little, excitement keeping them quiet, but the Englishman
+suffered keenly in spirit at the thought of what the delicate girl, shut
+up in that dark stifling prison behind them, must be undergoing.
+
+Suddenly in front of them loomed up the helmeted figure of a policeman,
+swinging his club and gesticulating wildly.
+
+"Run him down!" howled Spotts; and Cecil, who had caught some of the
+madness of their wild flight, lashed the horses afresh and hurled the
+Black Maria straight at the officer of the law.
+
+The constable, still gesticulating, made a hasty leap to one side, and
+they swept by a huge express-wagon which was coming up the
+cross-street, nearly grazing the noses of the rearing horses, and
+catching a glimpse of the driver's startled face.
+
+So they ran on and on, faster and faster as the traffic became less, and
+the pair of bays settled down in earnest to the race. Suddenly the
+street narrowed, and a confused mass of carts and horses seemed to block
+up the farther end. Banborough put on the brake, and with considerable
+difficulty succeeded in bringing his team to a standstill on the outer
+edge of the throng.
+
+"It's the Harlem River," cried Spotts, "and the drawbridge is up, curse
+the luck!"
+
+There was nothing for it but wait, and Cecil, jumping down, patted the
+horses and examined the harness to make sure that everything was all
+right.
+
+"You seem in a rush," said a neighbouring driver.
+
+"Hurry call to Harlem," replied Banborough brusquely.
+
+"Whereabouts?"
+
+"Oh, police station."
+
+"What station?"
+
+The Englishman grunted an inaudible reply as a forward movement of the
+crowd betokened that the bridge was again in position. A moment later
+they were trotting towards freedom and the open country, Cecil making
+the horses go slower now, wishing to reserve their strength for any
+unforeseen emergency.
+
+As the buildings grew more scattered, and patches of woodland appeared
+here and there, the actor began to discuss with his companion their plan
+of campaign.
+
+"The sooner we get Violet out of her prison," he said, "and leave this
+confounded vehicle behind, the better."
+
+"It's rather too well populated about here to suit me," replied
+Banborough. "But the police haven't been idle since we started, and our
+flight has probably been telegraphed all over the countryside. Perhaps
+we'd better run the risk, for if we're caught red-handed with the Black
+Maria we'll find some difficulty in proving our innocence."
+
+"Besides which, I'm anxious to get Miss Arminster out of durance vile as
+soon as possible, for I think the Leopard's been caged long enough,"
+said Spotts, laughing.
+
+"Why do you people insist on calling Miss Arminster the Leopard?" asked
+Banborough.
+
+"Oh," said his companion, "I think I'd better let you find that out for
+yourself. It would hardly be fair to Violet, and besides--" Then,
+breaking off suddenly as they entered a strip of woodland, he changed
+the conversation abruptly, saying: "Here's as good a place as we're
+likely to find--no houses in sight, and a clear view of the road in
+either direction." And as Cecil drew up the horses he jumped off the
+box.
+
+"How are you going to open the confounded thing?" asked the author.
+
+"Well," replied his companion, "I should think a key would be as good a
+method as any other."
+
+"The best, provided you've got the key."
+
+"I imagine you'll find it in the right-hand outside pocket of the
+driver's coat," said Spotts. "I thought I heard something jingle as I
+was helping you on with it."
+
+"Right you are," said the Englishman. "Here it is!" producing two
+nickel-plated keys on a ring. "Now we'll have her out in no time." And
+running round to the back of the vehicle, he unlocked the folding doors
+and threw them wide open, crying:
+
+"My dear Miss Arminster, accept your freedom and a thousand pardons for
+such rough treatment. What the--!" And he stopped short, too surprised
+to finish; for, instead of the petite form of the fascinating Violet,
+there shambled out on to the road the slouching figure of a disreputable
+tramp, clothed in nondescript garments of uncertain age and colour,
+terminating in a pair of broken boots, out of which protruded sockless
+feet. He had a rough shock of hair, surmounted by a soft hat full of
+holes, and a fat German face, whose ugliness was further enhanced by the
+red stubbly growth of a week's beard.
+
+"I guess youse gents has rescued me unbeknownst, and I'm much obleeged,
+though I don't know but what I'd rather break stones up to Sing Sing
+than be chucked round the way I has been for the last hour."
+
+"Who are you?" demanded Banborough.
+
+"Me?" said the figure. "Oh, I'm a anarchist."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+IN WHICH THE BLACK MARIA RECEIVES A NEW INMATE.
+
+
+At the sight of this astonishing and utterly unlooked-for personage, the
+actor and the Englishman stood for a moment gaping at each other in
+surprised silence. Then, as the full force of what they had done
+occurred to them, and they realised that, at great risk of life, limb,
+and freedom, they had rescued from the clutches of the law an utterly
+worthless tramp, they burst into peals of uncontrollable laughter.
+
+"But where's Violet?" gasped Spotts, who was the first to recover
+himself.
+
+"Oh, there's a lady in there, if you mean _her_," said the tramp,
+indicating the cavernous depths of the Black Maria.
+
+"Yes, I'm here all right," came the welcome tones of the little
+actress's voice. "I'll be out in just a moment, as soon as I've put
+myself straight. You're the most reckless drivers I ever saw."
+
+"I'm awfully sorry," said Banborough, approaching the door to help her
+out. "But circumstances didn't leave us much choice."
+
+"Apparently not," she replied, and a moment later stood in their midst,
+looking even more bewitching than usual in her dishevelled condition.
+Then as she drew a long breath, inhaling the fresh woodland air, and
+realising all the joy of her restored freedom, the eternal feminine
+reasserted itself, and, seizing both of Spotts's hands, she cried
+impetuously: "Look at me, Alvy, and tell me if my hat is straight."
+
+They all laughed, which broke the tension of the situation.
+
+"I don't know what you must think of us," said Banborough.
+
+"I thought I was being run away with at first," she said; "but when I
+heard Alvy's voice on the box I knew it must be all right."
+
+"Of course," continued Cecil, "we hadn't the least idea there was
+anybody else in the van."
+
+"Oh, I didn't mind so much," she said. "He was quite nice and
+respectful, and very soft to fall on. I guess he must be all black and
+blue from the number of times I hit him."
+
+"Well, you're safe, and that's the main thing," said Spotts.
+
+"But what does it all mean?" she demanded.
+
+"Oh, there's time enough for explanations later on," returned the actor.
+"We're not out of the woods yet."
+
+"Of course we aren't, stupid! Any one can see that."
+
+"Metaphorically, he means," said Cecil. "But, joking apart, this Black
+Maria is, so to speak _particeps criminis_, and the sooner we lose it
+the better."
+
+"Which way shall we go?" she asked.
+
+"Oh, that's been all arranged beforehand with the other members of the
+party," said Spotts, purposely omitting to mention their destination in
+the presence of their undesirable companion. "It can't be more than a
+mile or two across country to the Hudson River Railroad, and we'd better
+make for the nearest station. Do you feel up to walking?"
+
+"Do I feel up to walking!" she exclaimed. "Well, if you'd been chucked
+round for an hour without being consulted, I guess you'd feel like doing
+a little locomotion on your own account." And without another word the
+three turned to get their belongings.
+
+"Say," interjected the tramp, "where do I come in?"
+
+"Oh, but you don't," said Spotts. "We're going to leave you this
+beautiful carriage and pair with our blessing. Better take a drive in
+the country and enjoy the fresh air."
+
+"Yah!" snarled the disreputable one in reply. "That don't go! It's too
+thin! Why, look here, boss," he continued, addressing Banborough, "you
+went and 'scaped with me without so much as sayin' by your leave, and
+now, when you've gone and laid me open to extra time for evadin' of my
+penalty, you've got the cheek to propose to leave me alone in a cold
+world with _that_!" And he pointed expressively at the Black Maria.
+
+"It is rather hard lines," admitted Cecil. "But, you see, it would never
+do to have you with us, my man. Why, your clothes would give us away
+directly."
+
+"And I'll give yer away directly to the cops if you don't take me
+along."
+
+Banborough and Spotts looked at each other in redoubled perplexity.
+
+"You see," continued the anarchist, "I don't go for to blow on no blokes
+as has stood by me as youse has, but it's sink or swim together.
+Besides, you'd get lost in this country in no time, while I knows it
+well. Why, I burgled here as a boy."
+
+"What's to be done?" asked Cecil.
+
+"Oh, I suppose we've got to take him along," replied the actor. "We're
+all in the same boat, if it comes to that."
+
+"Now if youse gents," suggested the tramp, "could find an extra pair of
+pants between you, this coat and hat would suit me down to the ground."
+And he laid a dirty paw on Banborough's discarded garments.
+
+"No you don't!" cried that gentleman, hastily recovering his
+possessions. "Haven't you got any clothes in that bag of yours, Spotts?"
+
+"Well, I _have_ got a costume, Bishop, and that's a fact," replied the
+actor; "but it's hardly in his line, I should think."
+
+"What is it?" asked the Englishman. "You seem about of a size."
+
+"It's a Quaker outfit. I used it in a curtain-raiser we were playing."
+
+"That would do very well," said Cecil, "if it isn't too pronounced."
+
+"Oh, it's tame enough," replied the actor, who exercised a restraint in
+his art for which those who met him casually did not give him credit.
+Indeed, among the many admirable qualities which led people to predict a
+brilliant future for Spotts was the fact that he never overdid anything.
+
+"Huh!" grunted the tramp, "I dunno but what I'd as lieve sport a shovel
+hat as the suit of bedticking they give yer up the river. I used to
+work round Philidelphy some, and I guess I could do the lingo."
+
+"Give them to him," said Banborough. "I'll make it good to you."
+
+"Well, take them, then," replied Spotts regretfully, handing their
+unwelcome companion the outfit which he produced from his bag, adding as
+he pointed to the woods: "Get in there and change quickly. We ought to
+be moving."
+
+The tramp made one step towards the underbrush, and then, pausing
+doubtfully, said:
+
+"You don't happen to have a razor and a bit of looking-glass about yer,
+do yer? I see there's a brook here, and there ain't nothin' Quakery
+about my beard."
+
+The actor's face was a study.
+
+"I'm afraid there's no escape from it, old man," remarked Cecil. "If
+you've your shaving materials with you, let him have them."
+
+"There they are. You needn't trouble to return them."
+
+Their recipient grinned appreciatively, and as the last rustle of his
+retirement into privacy died away, Miss Arminster turned to Banborough
+and demanded:
+
+"Now tell me what I was arrested for, why you two ran away with me, and
+where I'm being taken."
+
+"I can answer the first of those questions," broke in Spotts. "You're a
+Spanish sympathiser and a political spy."
+
+"I'm nothing of the sort, as you know very well!" she replied, colouring
+violently. "I'm the leading lady of the A. B. C. Company."
+
+"Of course _we_ know it," returned the actor; "but the police have
+chosen to take a different view of the matter."
+
+"Why is he chaffing me like this?" she said, appealing to Cecil.
+
+"I'm afraid it's a grim reality," he replied. "You see, when the Spanish
+officials were turned out of Washington, they'd the impertinence to take
+the title of my book as their password."
+
+"Well, then," she said, "they did what they'd no right to do."
+
+"I suppose that would be a question of international copyright," he
+replied. "But 'The Purple Kangaroo' has proved itself a most troublesome
+animal, and as I thought you wouldn't care for quarters down the bay
+till the war was over, I took the liberty of running off with you."
+
+"I'm very much obliged to you, I'm sure; but what next?"
+
+"We're all to rendezvous at Yonkers."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"Well, unless the situation improves, I'm afraid it'll become a question
+of seeking a refuge in another country."
+
+"If you think," she cried, "that I'm going to spend the rest of my
+existence in the forests of Yucatan or on the plains of Patagonia,
+you're mightily mistaken!"
+
+"Oh," he said, laughing, "it isn't as bad as all that. Ours is only a
+political crime, and Canada will afford a safe harbour from the
+extradition laws."
+
+"But the war won't be finished in a day," she contended, her eyes
+beginning to fill with tears.
+
+"Won't you trust me?" asked Cecil, taking both her hands. "Won't you let
+me prove my repentance by guarding your welfare? Won't you--"
+
+Indeed there is no knowing to what he might have committed himself in
+the face of such beauty and sorrow had not Spotts broken in with a cry
+of:
+
+"It's all up now! We're done for, and no mistake!" And he pointed to the
+figure of a short, fat, red-faced man, very much out of breath, who was
+bustling down the road, waving his hands at them and shouting "Hi!"
+
+"You'd better go and warn the tramp," said Banborough; and the actor
+plunged into the woods.
+
+A moment later the stranger came up to them, and panted out:
+
+"I arrest you both, in the name of the law!"
+
+Neither said anything, but Banborough took one of Miss Arminster's tiny
+gloved hands in his own and gave it a little squeeze just by way of
+reassuring her.
+
+"Well," said the new arrival, as soon as he had recovered his breath,
+"what have you got to say for yourselves?"
+
+"I don't know that we've anything to say," replied Cecil sheepishly.
+
+"I should think not!" said the other. "Here, take off that coat!" And he
+stripped the official garment from the Englishman's shoulders. "The cap,
+too!"
+
+Banborough handed it to him, saying as he did so:
+
+"You're a police official, I suppose?"
+
+"I'm the Justice of the Peace from the next town. They just missed
+catching you at the last place you drove through, and telegraphed on to
+me. Knowing there was a cross-road here, I wasn't going to take any
+chance of losing you. I left the police to follow. They'll be along in a
+minute. Now what do you mean by it?"
+
+"I don't suppose any explanations of mine would persuade you that
+you're making a mistake," said Banborough.
+
+"No, I don't suppose they would. Now you put on that coat accidentally,
+didn't you? Just absent-mindedly--"
+
+"I don't know you," broke in the Englishman, "and I don't--"
+
+"That'll do," said the Justice of the Peace. "I don't know you either,
+and--yes, I do know the woman." Then turning to Miss Arminster, he
+continued: "Didn't I perform the marriage ceremony over you the year
+before last?"
+
+"Yes," she said softly. And Cecil relinquished her hand. This, he
+considered, was worse than being arrested.
+
+"I thought I did," went on the magistrate. "I don't often forget a face,
+and I'm sorry to see you in such bad company."
+
+The young girl began to show signs of breaking down, and the situation
+was fast becoming acute, when the unexpected tones of an unctuous voice
+suddenly diverted everybody's attention.
+
+"Why is thee so violent, friend?" said some one behind them. And turning
+quickly, they perceived the sleek, clean-shaven, well-groomed figure of
+a Quaker, dressed in a shad-bellied brown coat, a low black silk hat
+with a curved brim, and square shoes.
+
+"Who the devil--!" began the officer.
+
+"Fie! fie!" said the stranger. "Abstain from cursings and revilings in
+thy speech. But I am glad thee hast come, for verily I feared the
+workers of iniquity were abroad."
+
+"Oh, you know something about it, do you?" asked the Justice of the
+Peace.
+
+"I was returning from a meeting of the Friends," continued the Quaker
+blandly, "when I came upon these two misguided souls. As my counsellings
+were not heeded, and I am a man of peace, I had retired into the woods
+to pursue my way uninterrupted, when I heard thee approach."
+
+"Well, I'll be glad of your assistance, though I daresay I could have
+managed them until the police came. They're a dangerous pair.
+
+"And what will thee do with the other prisoner, friend?"
+
+"Eh? What other prisoner?"
+
+"The one that lies in a debauched sleep at the farther end of the van. I
+have striven to arouse him, but in vain."
+
+"Where is he?" said the magistrate, peering into the black depths of the
+waggon.
+
+"In the far corner. Thee canst not see him from here."
+
+"I'll have him out in no time!" exclaimed the officer, springing into
+the van, with the driver's hat and coat still in his hand.
+
+"Not if I knows it, you old bloke!" cried the sometime Quaker, slamming
+the door and turning the key with vicious enjoyment, while his three
+companions, for Spotts had emerged from the wood, executed a war-dance
+round the vehicle out of sheer joy and exultation. From within proceeded
+a variety of curses and imprecations, while the Black Maria bounced upon
+its springs as if a young elephant had gone mad inside.
+
+Suddenly the Quaker laid a detaining hand upon Banborough's shoulder,
+saying:
+
+"Take care, boss; here come the cops! I'll play the leading role, and
+you follow the cues."
+
+They all paused and stood listening, while the rapid beat of a horse's
+hoofs came to their ears, and a second later a Concord waggon, loaded
+down with policemen, swung into view round the corner of the road, and
+presently drew up beside them.
+
+"Thee hast come in good time, friend," said the Quaker to the chief
+officer. "We have watched thy prisoners overlong already."
+
+"Where's the boss?" demanded the official.
+
+"Dost thee mean the worldly man with the red face, much given to profane
+speaking?"
+
+"I guess that's him," laughed one of the subordinates.
+
+"As I was returning from a meeting of the Friends with these good
+people," pursued the Quaker, indicating his companions, "we came upon
+this vehicle standing in the road, the horses being held by two men,
+who, when they saw us, ran into the woods towards the river."
+
+"How were they dressed?" asked the chief officer.
+
+"One of them had garments like thine, friend."
+
+"That's our man, sure!"
+
+"Very presently," resumed the Quaker, "came thy master, using much
+unseemly language, who, having heard our story, followed the men in the
+direction we indicated, begging that we guard this carriage till you
+came, and bidding us tell you to return with it to the town."
+
+"Well, I guess the boss knows his own business best," said the leader of
+the party; "so we'd better be getting back to the station. I suppose
+you'll come and give your evidence."
+
+"I am a man of peace," said the Quaker; "but if my testimony is required
+I and my friends will walk behind thee to the next town and give it."
+
+"It's only half a mile from here, a straight road--you can't miss it.
+You'll be there as soon as we want you."
+
+The Quaker nodded.
+
+"Then we'd better be moving," said the chief officer. "I'll drive Maria,
+and you fellows go ahead in the cart."
+
+The remarks which were now proceeding from the interior of that vehicle
+were much too dreadful to record. But as it was about to start, the man
+of peace, lifting his hands, checked the driver and said:
+
+"I will, with thy permission, approach the grating and speak a word of
+counsel." And going to the door, he said in a loud voice:
+
+"Peace, friend. Remember what the good Benjamin Franklin has said: 'He
+that speaks much is much mistaken.'"
+
+The reply elicited by these remarks was of such a nature that Miss
+Arminster was obliged to put her hands over her ears, and the police
+drove off with loud guffaws, enjoying immensely the good Quaker's
+confusion.
+
+"That bloke," remarked the tramp, as the Black Maria disappeared in a
+cloud of dust, "give me three months once, an' I feels better."
+
+And without another word he led the party across the road and into the
+woods in the direction of the river.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+IN WHICH THE PARTY RECEIVES A NEW IMPETUS.
+
+
+An hour later, when the little party of four, weary and dusty, walked up
+to the hotel at Yonkers, they perceived Tybalt Smith in his
+shirt-sleeves, with his hat tipped over his eyes as a protection from
+the rays of the declining sun, lying fast asleep in a large garden chair
+which was tilted back on its hind legs against the side of the house.
+Spotts lost no time in poking him in the ribs with his cane, whereupon
+the tragedian, rousing himself from slumber, hastily assumed a more
+upright position, bringing the chair down on its front legs with a bang.
+Having thus been fully awakened, he became at once the master of the
+situation.
+
+"We are here," he said.
+
+"So I see," replied Spotts, "and a pretty show you've made of yourself.
+There's nothing private or retiring about your methods. Now where are
+the rest of the party?"
+
+Mr. Smith at once assumed an air of mysterious solemnity.
+
+"Mrs. Mackintosh," he said in a stage whisper, "is above. I reserved an
+apartment for her and the Leop--Miss Arminster, I mean, and a private
+sitting-room for us all. Mrs. Mackintosh is disturbed. Mrs. Mackintosh
+requires an explanation. Mrs. Mackintosh," turning to Banborough, "is a
+woman of great character, of great force, and she requires an
+explanation of _you_!"
+
+"Ha!" said Spotts, casting a look of mock commiseration at the
+Englishman.
+
+"Perhaps it might be better," suggested the tragedian, "if Miss
+Arminster saw her first."
+
+"Perhaps it might," acquiesced Spotts.
+
+"All right, I'll go," said Violet; adding to Cecil, as she passed him:
+"Don't be frightened; her bark's worse than her bite." And she entered
+the house laughing.
+
+"But where are the others?" asked the author.
+
+"Sh!" whispered the tragedian, casting a suspicious glance at the
+Quaker. "We're not alone."
+
+"Yes," said Spotts, "the Bishop's got a new convert."
+
+"Oh," returned Banborough, "I forgot you hadn't met this gentleman. We
+inadvertently rescued him, and since then he's done us a similar service
+twice over. I really don't know what he's called. The clothes belong to
+Spotts."
+
+"I thought I recognised the costume," said Smith. Then, turning to the
+stranger, he demanded, abruptly: "What's your name?"
+
+"I have been known by many," came the suave tones of the Quaker, "but
+for the purposes of our brief acquaintance thee mayst call me Friend
+Othniel."
+
+The tragedian gave a grunt of disapproval.
+
+"I think he can be trusted," remarked Spotts. "He's certainly stood by
+us well, so far. Now tell us about Kerrington and Mill."
+
+"Yes, I'm most anxious to know what's become of them," said the
+Englishman. And the three drew nearer together, while the Quaker,
+turning to the road, stood basking in the sunshine, his broad flabby
+hands clasped complacently before him.
+
+Tybalt Smith, after casting another furtive glance in Friend Othniel's
+direction, murmured the words:
+
+"Shoe-strings and a sandwich!"
+
+"Eh? What?" queried Banborough.
+
+"Our two friends," continued the tragedian, "through the powerful aid of
+a member of our fraternity, whose merits the public have hitherto failed
+to recognise, have sought refuge in the more humble walks of life to
+escape the undesirable publicity forced upon them by _you_! Mr.
+Kerrington, disguised as a Jew pedlar, is now dispensing shoe-strings
+and collar-buttons on lower Broadway, while Mr. Mill is at present
+taking a constitutional down Fifth Avenue encased in a sandwich frame
+calling attention to the merits of Backer's Tar Soap. He is, if I may
+so express it, between the boards instead of on the boards--a little
+pleasantry of my own, you will observe."
+
+The tragedian paused, but failing to elicit the desired laugh, continued
+his narration:
+
+"Mrs. Mackintosh, though having been offered a most desirable position
+to hawk apples and chewing-gum on Madison Square, has preferred to share
+the rigours of an unknown exile, that she might protect the youthful
+innocence of our leading lady."
+
+"All of which means," said Spotts shortly, "that Mill and Kerrington
+chose to fake it out in town, while you and the old girl bolted."
+
+"Our friend," remarked Smith, casting an aggrieved look at the last
+speaker, "is lamentably terse. But let us join Mrs. Mackintosh. She
+will support my remarks, not perhaps in such chaste diction, but--"
+
+"Oh, shut it off!" interrupted Mr. Spotts. "Come along, Othniel. I guess
+you're in this, too." And he led the way into the house.
+
+When they entered the private parlour they found Mrs. Mackintosh and
+Miss Arminster waiting to receive them, the old lady with mingled
+feelings of righteous indignation and amusement at the ludicrous
+position in which they were placed, which latter she strove hard to
+conceal.
+
+"Well, Bishop," she began, as soon as Banborough was fairly in the room,
+"you've carried off an innocent and unsuspecting young lady in a Black
+Maria, imprisoned an officer of the law, deceived his agents, reduced
+two of the members of our company to walking the streets, forced us to
+consort with thieves and criminals," pointing to the bland form of the
+Quaker, who had just appeared in the doorway, "laid us all under the
+imputation of plotting against our country, exiled us from our native
+land, brought me away from New York in my declining years, with only the
+clothes I stand up in, and deposited me in a small room on the third
+floor of a second-class hotel, which is probably full of fleas! And now
+I ask you, sir, in the name of Christian decency, which you're supposed
+to represent, and common sense, of which you've very little, what
+you're going to do with us?"
+
+Banborough sat down suddenly on the nearest available chair, made a weak
+attempt at a smile, gave it up, and blurted out:
+
+"Well, I'm blessed if I know! But permit me to decline the declining
+years," he murmured gallantly.
+
+"I have," continued the lady, with a twinkle in her eye, "for the past
+thirty years played blameless parts on the metropolitan stage, and I'm
+too old to assume with any degree of success the role of a political
+criminal."
+
+"Madam," said the author, making a desperate effort to compose himself,
+"I'm the first to admit the lack of foresight on my part which has
+placed us in this deplorable predicament; but the fact remains that
+we're suspected of a serious crime against this Government, and until we
+can prove ourselves innocent it's necessary to protect our liberties as
+best we may. I fortunately have ample funds, and I can only say that it
+will be a duty as well as a privilege to take you all to a place of
+safety, and keep you there, as my guests, till happier times."
+
+"Hear, hear!" said the tragedian from the back of the room, while the
+Quaker settled himself into the most comfortable armchair with a sigh of
+contentment.
+
+"Very nicely spoken, young man," replied the older lady, whose
+suspicions were only partially allayed, "but words aren't deeds, and
+Canada, where I'm informed we're to be dumped, is a long way off; and if
+you imagine you can go cavorting round the country with a Black Maria
+for a whole afternoon without bringing the police down on you, you're
+vastly mistaken!"
+
+"Thee speaketh words of wisdom, but a full stomach fortifieth a stout
+heart," said Friend Othniel.
+
+"Yes," replied Smith, who took this remark to himself. "I ordered dinner
+at six, thinking you'd be in then, and if I'm not mistaken it's here
+now." And as he spoke the door opened and a waiter entered to lay the
+table.
+
+Conversation of a private nature was naturally suspended forthwith, and
+the members of the A. B. C. Company sat in silence, hungrily eyeing the
+board.
+
+"Thee mayst lay a place for me, friend," said the Quaker to the waiter,
+as he watched the preparations with bland enjoyment.
+
+"Did you order any drinks?" asked Banborough of the tragedian.
+
+"No, Bishop, I didn't," replied the latter. "As you're paying for the
+show, I thought I'd leave you that privilege."
+
+"Order six soda lemonades," said Banborough to the waiter, adding behind
+his hand to Spotts, as he noted the gloom spread over the company: "No
+liquor to-night. We need to keep our wits about us."
+
+"Stop, friend," came the unctuous tones of the Quaker, arresting the
+waiter as he was about to leave the room. "For myself I never take
+strong waters, but thee forgettest, Bishop," giving Banborough the title
+he had heard the others use, "thee forgettest that our revered friend,"
+with a wave of his hand in Mrs. Mackintosh's direction, "hath an
+affection of her lungs which requires her to take a brandy and soda for
+her body's good before meals. Let it be brought at once!"
+
+"Why, you impudent upstart!" gasped the old lady, as the door closed
+behind the waiter. "How dare you say I drink!"
+
+"Shoo!" returned Friend Othniel, lapsing from the Quaker into the tramp;
+"I ain't orderin' it for youse. I've a throat like a Sahara."
+
+Then turning to the other members of the company, he continued:
+
+"Now seein' as we've a moment alone, and bein' all criminals, I votes we
+has a session o' the committee o' ways and means."
+
+A chorus of indignant protest arose from every side.
+
+"Youse ain't criminals, eh? What's liberatin' prisoners, an' stealin'
+two hosses an' a kerridge, an' the driver's hat an' coat, with a
+five-dollar bill in the pocket?"
+
+Banborough rose to deny vehemently the last assertion.
+
+"Oh, yes, ther' was," continued the tramp. "I got that." And he
+produced a crisp note at the sight of which the Englishman groaned, as
+he realised the damning chain of evidence which circumstance was
+building up around them.
+
+"An' lockin' up officers of the law," Friend Othniel went on, "an'
+runnin' off with prisoners, specially a tough like me, one o' your pals,
+what's wanted particular." And he winked villainously.
+
+"I do not see," began Banborough, who was fast losing his temper, "that
+there's any need of discussing the moral aspect of this affair. You,"
+turning to the tramp, "will have your dinner and your drink, and a
+certain sum of money, and you'll then kindly leave us. Though your
+nature may be incapable of appreciating the difference between a crime
+knowingly committed and one innocently entered into, a difference
+exists, and renders further association between us undesirable, to say
+the least."
+
+"Oh, it does, does it?" said Friend Othniel. "Well, that's where youse
+blokes is mistook. This mornin' my dearest ambition was to blow up
+Madison Square Garden, but what's that to wreckin' a whole nation? No,
+Bishop, I'm a political conspirator from this time on, and I'll stand by
+yer through thick and thin! Why, you people ain't no more fitted to run
+a show o' this sort than a parcel of three-weeks-old babies. I wouldn't
+give yer ten hours to land the whole crowd in jail; but you just trust
+to me, and I'll see yer safe, if it can be done. I tell yer, it ain't
+the fust time I ben in a hurry to view Niagary Falls from the Canadian
+side."
+
+Just then the door opened, and the waiter entered with the brandy and
+soda in a long glass.
+
+"Thee mayst put it here, friend, till the lady is ready to take it,"
+said Othniel, indicating the table at his side.
+
+"Nothing of the kind," snapped Mrs. Mackintosh. "I guess I'm as ready to
+take it now's I ever shall be." And she grasped the glass and, setting
+her face, proceeded to drain the tumbler to the amusement of the
+company.
+
+"There," she said, wiping her lips with her handkerchief, as the waiter
+left the room, "that tasted about as bad as anything I've had for a long
+time; but if it had been castor oil, I'd have drunk every drop rather
+than that you'd had it."
+
+A general laugh greeted this sally, and the tramp remarked sheepishly
+that he guessed he'd know it the next time he ran up against her.
+
+Then, waxing serious, he resumed his former topic.
+
+"We ain't got no time to waste in frivolity," he said, "and if we're to
+get out of this hole, the sooner we makes our plans the better, and
+perhaps, as I know more about this business than youse, I'll do the
+talking."
+
+Receiving the silent assent of the company, he continued: "I remembers
+in the days o' my innocent youth, before I burgled my first watch,
+a-playin' of a Sunday-school game, where we went out of the room, and
+the bloke what teached us put a quarter somewhere in plain sight, and
+when we come in again not one on us could find it, 'cause it was just
+under our noses; which the same is the game I'm proposing to play."
+
+"I think I see what you mean," said Banborough. "I've heard it said that
+the destruction of most criminals is their cleverness."
+
+"That's just what I'm a-tryin' to point out," replied the tramp. "The
+cops gives you the credit of allus tryin' to do the out-o'-the-way
+thing, so as to put 'em off the track, while if yer only acted as yer
+naturally would if yer hadn't done nothin' to be cotched for, yer could
+walk before their eyes and they'd never see yer."
+
+"That sounds all right," said Spotts. "Now what's your advice?"
+
+"To go back to New York," replied the tramp shortly.
+
+"But," objected Miss Arminster, "we can't stay in the United States."
+
+"Who said we could?" retorted the tramp. "Don't yer see, the cops'll
+reckon on our takin' some train along hereabouts for the North, and
+they'll watch all the little stations on the up line, but they won't
+trouble 'bout the down line, 'cause they know we've left the city. So
+all we has to do, after we've had our dinner comfortable-like, is to
+take a local back to town, and catch the White Mountain Express for
+Montreal."
+
+"Why the White Mountain Express?" asked Mrs. Mackintosh.
+
+"'Cause it's the longest route," replied the tramp, "an' they'll reckon
+on our takin' the shortest. Besides which, we'll cross the border in the
+early morning, havin' the baggage, which we ain't got, examined on
+arrival."
+
+The company expressed hearty approval of the plan, and it was easy to
+see, in the case of the ladies at least, that Friend Othniel's sagacity
+had won him a much-improved position in their estimation.
+
+The waiter now came bustling in and out of the room, and Mrs. Mackintosh
+drew Cecil apart into the embrasure of a window.
+
+"You mustn't think I'm too hard on you, young man," she said, "though I
+can talk like a house afire when I once get r'iled. I know you didn't
+mean to get us into this scrape. You're a good-hearted chap, or you
+wouldn't have given us all a breakfast when you didn't need to, and I
+want you to understand that I'll stand by you whatever happens. I've
+taken a real liking to you, because you can look me straight in the eye,
+and I know you're worth a dozen of those chaps one sees hanging round a
+theatre; and if you behave yourself nicely, you won't find you've got a
+better friend than Betsy Mackintosh." And she squeezed his hand with an
+honest fervour that many a man might have envied.
+
+Cecil thanked her for her confidence in him, and turned to have a few
+words with Miss Arminster, who had been constantly in his mind. When she
+had admitted to the Justice of the Peace that she was a married woman,
+he felt as if somebody had poured a pitcher of ice-water down his back.
+Of course he hardly considered his sentiment for her as serious, but he
+was at the age when a young man feels it a personal grievance if he
+discovers that a pretty girl is married. Indeed, the fact that the
+little actress had been so blind to her own interests as not to keep her
+heart and hand free till he came along first caused him to realise how
+hard he was hit.
+
+"I do hope you've not been too much fatigued?" he said, sitting down
+beside her.
+
+"Oh, you mustn't bother about that," she replied, raising her eyes to
+his in a decidedly disconcerting manner. "I'm afraid you must have
+thought me very selfish and ungrateful for seeming to care so much about
+my own appearance and so little about all you've done for me."
+
+"Oh, don't speak of that," he protested.
+
+"But I must speak of it," she insisted. "I can't begin to tell you how I
+appreciated it. It was plucky and just splendid, and some day or other I
+want you to take me out driving again, in another sort of trap. You're
+the best whip I ever knew."
+
+He flushed under her praise, and began to say pretty things which he had
+better have omitted; but she presently became absent-minded in the face
+of his attentions, and interpreting this as an unfavourable sign, he
+ventured to ask her why she was so pensive.
+
+"I'm afraid you must think me awfully rude," she said, "and really I've
+listened to all the nice things you've been saying, half of which I
+don't deserve, but the fact is, this place, and even this very room, are
+full of sweet associations for me. It was in that little church, just
+across the road, that I was married four years ago."
+
+"But I thought," he began, "that the Justice of the Peace said that he
+married you."
+
+"So he did," she returned softly, "but that was different--it was
+later."
+
+"Eh? What!" he said, "later?"
+
+"Yes," she replied dreamily, not noticing the interruption. "But it was
+here that the few sweet days of my first honeymoon were passed. 'Twas
+here I became the bride of the only man I've ever loved, the bride of--"
+
+"Hist!" cried the tramp, who had been looking out of the window. "The
+house is watched!" And with this announcement Banborough's tete-a-tete
+came to an abrupt close.
+
+"Are you sure?" cried Spotts.
+
+"Positive. There are three cops fooling round in front now."
+
+"What shall we do?" cried Smith.
+
+"Git," rejoined the tramp.
+
+"But how?" queried Banborough.
+
+"Oh, I'll fix that all right," said the Quaker. "I bagged a plated
+tea-service here five years ago, and if they ain't changed the
+arrangements of the house, this side door leads into an unused passage,
+which, barrin' the climbin' of a picket fence, is very handy for
+escape."
+
+"But how about the waiter?" suggested Mrs. Mackintosh, who was always
+practical.
+
+"Right you are," said Friend Othniel. "We'll lock the door before we get
+out. They'll waste time enough over trying to open it, to give us a
+chance."
+
+To speak was to act, and the tramp softly turned the key and slipped it
+into his pocket.
+
+"As a memento," he said. "It's all I'm likely to git. They don't even
+use plate now." And he fingered the spoons and forks on the table
+regretfully.
+
+"Come," said Spotts shortly. "We've no time to lose."
+
+"Look here," said Banborough to the company, "I may be a criminal, but
+I'm not a sneak, and I don't order meals and apartments without paying
+for them. How much ought I to leave behind?"
+
+Spotts laughed.
+
+"If you put it that way, I guess ten dollars'll cover it," he said.
+
+The Englishman threw a bill on the table.
+
+"Now," cried Smith, "let's be off!"
+
+"Out this way," said the tramp, opening a side door. "You others go
+first, and I'll wait here till I sees you're all safe."
+
+"Not if I know it," said Cecil. "You go first, or you'll get kicked."
+
+The tramp looked longingly at the crisp note, and led the way,
+remarking:
+
+"Thee castest thy pearls before swine, friend."
+
+"Ah, that's just what I'm trying to avoid," said Banborough cheerfully,
+bringing up the rear.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+IN WHICH THE BISHOP OF BLANFORD RECEIVES A BLACK EYE.
+
+
+"The Bishop of Blanford!" announced the page, as he threw open the door
+of Sir Joseph Westmoreland's private consulting-room.
+
+Sir Joseph came forward to meet his distinguished patient, and said a
+few tactful words about having long known his Lordship by reputation.
+The Bishop smiled amiably, and surveyed the great London physician
+through his glasses. The two men were of thoroughly opposite types: Sir
+Joseph tall, thin, wiry, his high forehead and piercing blue eye
+proclaiming a powerful mind well trained for the purposes of science;
+the Bishop short and broad of stature, with an amiable, rounded, ruddy
+face, and the low forehead which is typical of a complacent dogmatism.
+
+An ecclesiastic had come to humbug a man of science. Could he do it? Not
+really, he told himself; but then Sir Joseph was so courteous.
+
+"I ventured to consult you," said his Lordship, in reply to the
+physician's questions, "because I feel the need of rest, absolute rest.
+The duties of my diocese are so onerous--and--er--in short--you
+understand."
+
+"Quite so, quite so," said Sir Joseph, who understood that there was
+nothing whatever the matter with his patient.
+
+"To be entirely alone," continued the Bishop, "for a space of time,
+without any distractions--not even letters."
+
+"Most certainly not letters, your Lordship."
+
+"How wonderful you men of science are!" murmured the ecclesiastic. "You
+understand me exactly. Now if I could have six weeks--or even a month."
+
+"A month, I should say," replied Sir Joseph. "After that you might begin
+to receive your correspondence."
+
+"Yes, a month would do--that is--er--where would you advise me to go?"
+
+"What climate generally suits you best?"
+
+"I--er--was thinking of Scotland."
+
+"In May?" queried the physician.
+
+"A friend would lend me his country place--and I--er--should be so
+entirely alone."
+
+"Quite so. Nothing could be better," replied his adviser, who, like all
+men who have risen in their profession, had attained an infinite
+knowledge of human nature.
+
+"And you will be so kind as to write me a note, stating your
+opinion--about the rest--and--er--immunity from letters--and all that,"
+said the Bishop, depositing with studied thoughtlessness a double fee on
+the table, "for the benefit of my--my family. She is--they are--I
+mean--that is, she might not realise the importance of absolute rest,
+and"--as a brilliant thought occurred to him--"and you'll give me a
+prescription."
+
+"Certainly," said Sir Joseph. "I'll do both now."
+
+"Thanks," murmured the Bishop, and, receiving the precious documents,
+he took his leave.
+
+The great physician's letter he put carefully in an inside pocket; the
+prescription he never remembered to get filled.
+
+"A month," he said to himself; "that ought to be time enough." And he
+hailed a cab, and driving promptly to the nearest American steamship
+office, he engaged a passage forthwith.
+
+"I wonder what Sir Joseph thought about it," he meditated, as he paid
+for his ticket. In this respect, however, he did his adviser an
+injustice. Sir Joseph never thought about it at all. It was not part of
+his profession.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Most people would have united in saying that the Bishop of Blanford
+was an exceedingly fortunate man. No one was possessed of an estate
+boasting fairer lawns or more noble beeches, and the palace was a
+singularly successful combination of ecclesiastical antiquity and
+nineteenth-century comfort. The cathedral was a gem, and its boy choir
+the despair of three neighbouring sees, while, owing to a certain
+amount of worldly wisdom on the part of former investors of the
+revenues, the bishopric was among the most handsomely endowed in
+England. Yet his Lordship was not happy. All his life long there had
+been a blot upon his enjoyment, and that blot was his sister, Miss
+Matilda Banborough.
+
+Miss Matilda was blatantly good, an intolerant virtue that accounted for
+multitudes of sins in other people. Her one ambition was to bring up the
+Bishop in the way she thought he should go, and hitherto she had been
+wonderfully successful. All through his married life she had resided at
+the palace and been the ruling power, and when his wife had died twenty
+years before, snuffed out by the cold austerity of the Bishop's sister
+and the ecclesiastical monotony of Blanford, Miss Matilda had assumed
+the reins of power, and had never laid them down.
+
+The Bishop's wife had been a weak, amiable woman, and her last conscious
+request was to be buried in the sunlight, but her sister-in-law
+remarked that "her mind must have been wandering, for though Sarah was
+vacillating, she was never sacrilegious." So they buried her in the
+shadiest corner of the cloisters, and put up a memorial brass setting
+forth all the virtues for which she was not particularly noted, and
+entirely omitting to mention her saving grace of patience under great
+provocation.
+
+Since that time the Bishop's son, Cecil, had been a bone of contention
+at Blanford. His aunt had attempted to apply the same rigorous treatment
+to him that had been meted out to his father; but the lad, whose spirit
+had not been broken, refused to submit. At first, in his boyhood days,
+his feeling was chiefly one of awe of Miss Matilda, who always seemed to
+be interfering with his pleasure, and who made the Sabbath anything but
+a day of peace for the restless child. Then came long terms at school,
+with vacations to which he never looked forward, and then four years at
+the university, when the periods spent at Blanford became more dreaded.
+
+Cecil tried bringing home friends, but there were too many restrictions.
+So, after graduation, he drifted off to London, where his aunt
+prophesied speedy damnation for him, and never quite forgave him because
+he did not achieve it. During these years his visits to the palace
+became fewer and fewer. Then he wrote his novel, which proved the
+breaking-point, for Miss Matilda forced his good-natured, easy-going
+father to protest against its publication in England, and the young man,
+in impatient scorn, had shaken the dust of his native country from his
+feet and departed to the United States, bearing his manuscript with him.
+
+That was a year ago, and Cecil had never written once. His publishers
+would not give his address, and if he received the letters sent through
+their agency, he never answered them. His father pined for him. His aunt
+waxed spiteful, and so firm was her domination over the Bishop that he
+never dared tell her of his secretly formed plan of going to America to
+find his son. Hence his visit to the great London physician.
+
+The little plot worked out better than he could have hoped. Sir Joseph's
+letter proved convincing, for Miss Matilda had a holy awe of constituted
+authority, and would no more have thought of disobeying its injunctions
+than she would of saying her prayers backwards. His Lordship accordingly
+went to London, and disappeared for a month--ostensibly to Scotland, in
+reality to America; and no one on the Allan liner suspected for a moment
+that the little man in civilian's clothes, whose name appeared on the
+passenger-list as Mr. Banborough, was the Bishop of Blanford.
+
+His thirty days of grace allowed him but two weeks in the States, and
+here fortune seemed to have deserted him, for, on his arrival, he
+learned that his son had gone South. A wild-goose chase to Washington
+consumed much valuable time, and, with only forty-eight hours to spare,
+he arrived at Cecil's quarters in New York on the day when that young
+gentleman was madly driving a Black Maria out of the city.
+
+Discouraged and disheartened at his lack of success, the Bishop took a
+train for Montreal, and found himself, about ten o'clock on that
+evening, owing to faulty orders and a misplaced switch, stranded at a
+little station just on the dividing line between Canada and the United
+States.
+
+"And when can I proceed on my journey to Montreal?" he queried of the
+station-master.
+
+"Sure I don't know," responded that individual briefly. "We're bound to
+get things cleared for the White Mountain Express if possible."
+
+"And when is it due?" asked his Lordship.
+
+"Eleven forty-five A.M., if she's on time."
+
+"I think," said the Bishop, "that I'll remain for the night, and go on
+at a more seasonable hour to-morrow. Is there any one here who can put
+me up?"
+
+The station-master scratched his head in perplexity, glancing off to the
+horizon where glimmered a few lights from scattered farmhouses.
+
+"I dunno what to say," he replied. "I reckon Deacon Perkins would have
+put you up," pointing to the nearest light, some mile and a half
+distant, which at that moment disappeared, "but," added the official,
+"it looks as if he'd gone to bed. Folks don't stay up late round here.
+There ain't much to do."
+
+"But," protested his Lordship, "there's a story over this office. Surely
+you can arrange something for me."
+
+"Well, you see it's this way," said the man. "There's two police
+officers and a journalist has reserved it for to-night, 'cause they's on
+the lookout for a batch of prisoners 'scaping to Canada. But if so be's
+you wouldn't mind sleeping in the refreshment-room, I could let you have
+a mattress, and make you up a tidy bed under the bar."
+
+The Bishop reflected that, though such quarters were hardly in keeping
+with the dignity of an episcopal prince, they were better than nothing,
+and as he was travelling incognito it did not much matter. So he
+cheerfully accepted, and going out on the platform took a seat on the
+narrow wooden bench that ran along the front of the station, and lighted
+a cigar to while away the time till the preparations for his retirement
+were completed.
+
+It was pitch-dark outside, and the presence of three glimmering points
+of light were the only indication of any other occupants of the bench.
+But he rightly conjectured that the smokers were the policemen and the
+journalist of whom he had heard, and, having nothing better to do, he
+entered into conversation with them.
+
+"Oh, yes," said Marchmont, for it was none other, "we've got a big job
+on hand to-night, sir, if we pull it off."
+
+"Is it uncertain, then?" asked the Bishop.
+
+"Well, of course we don't know which way they're coming. There was a
+sensational escape of a lot of Spanish spies from New York this noon.
+When I left we only knew they'd gone North. Since then they've been
+heard of near the Hudson River. Of course it's practically certain
+they'll make for Montreal, as it's the nearest point at which they have
+a consul, and my knowledge of human nature leads me to think they'll
+take the most indirect route; so I came on here by the first train, and
+if we can catch them when the Express comes through to-night, it'll be a
+great scoop, and certain promotion for me."
+
+"Who compose the party?" asked his Lordship.
+
+"The whole thing seems to be rather mysterious," said the journalist.
+"There's a woman conspirator in it, and one or two men, but the identity
+of the leader, the man who planned the rescue and had the unparalleled
+audacity to represent himself as one of our reporters, is quite unknown
+to the police."
+
+"But you?" said the Bishop.
+
+"Oh, I," replied Marchmont, "of course I could hazard a guess as to his
+identity." And putting his hand before his mouth, so that his two
+companions should not hear his words, he added, with a tone of triumph
+in his voice: "There's not the remotest doubt in my mind that the young
+man who ran off with the Black Maria was none other than the Secretary
+of the Spanish Legation."
+
+"Ah," said his Lordship, who was getting bored, "very interesting, I'm
+sure. I think I'll turn in now. Good-night." And a few minutes later he
+was safely ensconced under the bar and in the land of dreams, where Miss
+Matilda and a prison-van figured conspicuously.
+
+After an interval of time, the Bishop was sleepily conscious of the
+arrival of a train, accompanied by a certain amount of excitement, but
+it was not till several hours later, when dawn was just beginning to
+break, that he was rudely awakened by some one attempting to appropriate
+his resting-place. At the same moment he became conscious that a
+considerable uproar was going on in the station, and a voice from above,
+which he recognised as the journalist's, called out:
+
+"Say! One of that gang's in the bar! I saw him come up to the door as I
+was lying in bed!"
+
+Before the Bishop, however, became sufficiently wide awake to assimilate
+thoroughly these astonishing facts, the intruder, who was grotesquely
+armed with a can of hot coffee and a loaf of bread, deposited his
+burdens, and falling upon the recumbent ecclesiastic, proceeded to sit
+upon his head, forcing his face into the pillow, and rendering it
+impossible for him to utter a single sound. The half light and the
+suddenness of the attack had not permitted his Lordship to see the
+features of his aggressor. He had, however, no intention of submitting
+tamely to such an unpardonable outrage; and when the station-master and
+the two policemen, unaware of the proximity of the object of their
+pursuit, had rushed through the room and out at the back door, and the
+stranger, releasing the Bishop, was preparing to fly also, his Lordship,
+forgetful of the professions of peace which his calling assumed, smote
+the intruder lustily in the ribs. He received in return a smashing blow
+in the eye which made him see a multitude of stars, and before he could
+recover himself the stranger had seized the coffee and the loaf and
+dashed through to the front of the station.
+
+The Bishop staggered to his feet, groping blindly about, while he heard
+the voice of the journalist, who was leaning over the banisters in night
+attire, calling vociferously to his companions that the man was escaping
+by the front.
+
+"Did he hurt you?" he asked of the Bishop.
+
+"Yes," replied his Lordship, still blinded by the force of the blow.
+"But he got as good as he gave. I didn't have four years of athletics at
+the 'varsity for nothing."
+
+"Oh, they're sure to catch him," said the journalist
+
+"I hope so," cried the Bishop, "for he richly deserves it."
+
+It is probable, however, that his Lordship would have modified his
+desire for vengeance had he known that his aggressor was his own son.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+IN WHICH A LINE IS DRAWN AND CROSSED.
+
+
+"Say, are you asleep?" came the low voice of the tramp at the side of
+Banborough's berth in the early hours of the morning.
+
+The speaker stood in the aisle of the sleeper and was bending over him,
+half dressed, the contrast between the sleek outer garments of the
+Quaker and the rough underwear of the tramp giving him a most grotesque
+appearance.
+
+"Eh? what?" said Cecil, rousing himself, and noting, as he did so, that
+it was still dark. A moment later he was fully awake, saying, as he sat
+up in his bunk: "Is anything the matter?"
+
+"I'm afraid so. We've stopped here more'n ten minutes already, and we're
+scheduled to run through."
+
+"Well, what of it?" said the Englishman, somewhat testily, for he was
+very weary, and resented having his rest broken. "I suppose it's only a
+hot box."
+
+"Hot box be blowed! It's us they're after. If you looks round the corner
+of your curtain, you can see the cops on the platform."
+
+Cecil did as he was bidden, and, drawing back hastily, said:
+
+"You're right. I'm afraid the game is up. Where are we, anyway?"
+
+"If this is the station I take it to be, we're just on the line between
+the two countries. But whether our car's in Canady or the States is
+more'n I can tell."
+
+"Is there anything to be done?" asked Banborough, turning to Smith and
+Spotts, who at this moment quietly joined the Quaker at the Englishman's
+bedside.
+
+"Plenty," replied Spotts. "It's only a question of going North. Ten feet
+may mean the difference between a prison and the 'Windsor.'"
+
+"Well, what shall we do?"
+
+"Are you dressed?"
+
+"All but my boots and coat," answered Cecil. "I'm not enough of a
+gymnast to disrobe in a space six feet by two, and besides I thought
+something of this sort might occur."
+
+"Well, get into your boots, then, and don't make any more noise than
+necessary," said Spotts. "The ladies must be ready by this time. You
+were called last."
+
+"Are you going to make a bolt for it?" queried Banborough, as he put one
+foot out of bed.
+
+"Sh!" returned Spotts. "Not so loud! The officials out there on the
+platform are not sure that we're on board. My suggestion that Mrs.
+Mackintosh should buy the tickets was a lucky move, as she was not
+known. I'm going to pull the bell-cord as a sign to start, in the hopes
+that the engineer will get going before the conductor has time to
+reverse the signal, which means we'll run to the next station. If we
+don't succeed in pulling out, we'll just have to jump off and sprint for
+it."
+
+"Go ahead," said Banborough. "I'll have my boots on by the time I want
+them."
+
+The actor took a cautious look round the sleeper. Quiet reigned, except
+for their own little party, who were by this time all gathered together,
+the ladies having joined them.
+
+"Now!" said Friend Othniel. And Spotts, reaching up, gave two sharp
+jerks to the cord which swung from the centre of the car.
+
+Instantly the air-brakes were relaxed, the engine gave forth a series of
+mighty exhausts, the great driving-wheels spun round for a second on the
+rails, then caught their grip, and the train began to move out of the
+station.
+
+A perfect pandemonium at once arose without. Shouts, gesticulations, and
+the waving of a multitude of lights, but the train still kept on moving,
+and the last car, in which the fugitives were, was sweeping past the
+station building, when the conductor, capless, but lantern in hand,
+emerged from the ticket-office and sprang for the rear platform of the
+train. A second later the quick jerk of the bell-cord and an answering
+whistle from the engine told them that he had succeeded in boarding the
+train and signalling it to stop.
+
+The Quaker, forgetful of his cloth, swore lustily.
+
+"Come on!" cried Spotts, "we'll have to run for it. They'll back into
+the station in a minute, and then we're done for." And suiting the
+action to the word, he rushed down the car towards the front of the
+train. The rest followed him with the best speed they could muster,
+falling over boxes and bundles, getting entangled in stray shoes, and
+running foul of swinging portieres. Fortunately the cars were
+vestibuled, so the platforms offered no impediment. The train seemed
+absolutely interminable, for as they dashed through sleeper after
+sleeper, one more always appeared ahead, and Banborough could not help
+feeling as he ran, hatless and in his shirt-sleeves, with his coat under
+his arm and one shoe-string untied, that the whole thing must after all
+be some wildly improbable dream from which he would awake in due
+course.
+
+Now they felt the train stand still and then begin slowly to move
+backwards, which only hastened their flight. But there is an end to
+everything, and presently the last sleeper had been passed through, and
+they emerged, hot and breathless, into the baggage-car, immediately
+behind the engine. Here for the first time they found an open door, the
+vestibules having all been tightly closed.
+
+Spotts, who led the way, wasted no time in explanation, but making one
+dash at the burly baggage-master who confronted him, gave him a blow
+that sent him flying backwards. At the same instant he managed to trip
+up his assistant, causing the two men to come down on the floor
+together, bringing with them in their fall two bicycles and half a dozen
+crates of eggs.
+
+Grasping any light luggage he could seize, Friend Othniel added this to
+the heap, while Spotts, throwing open the great door in the side of the
+car, cried:
+
+"Jump for all you're worth!"
+
+Smith stood cowering on the edge of the door-sill, little relishing the
+prospect of a wild leap into the night. But the Quaker, who had no time
+to waste on arguments, smashed down the top bicycle with one hand, thus
+placing his two opponents on their backs on the floor, and swinging
+round at the same moment, delivered a kick to the tragedian which sent
+him flying into outer darkness after the manner of a spread eagle.
+
+The train was only just moving, and Spotts sprang quickly to the ground,
+and, running alongside the car, called to Miss Arminster to jump into
+his arms, which she promptly did. Putting her to one side out of the
+reach of the train, he ran forward to receive Mrs. Mackintosh; but that
+good lady, being unaccustomed to such acrobatic feats, and arriving with
+more force than precision, completely bowled him over, and they went
+flying into space together. Banborough and Friend Othniel followed
+almost immediately, and, both trying to get out of the door at the same
+time, collided with considerable force, and performed a series of
+somersaults, landing with safety, but emphasis, in a potato-patch.
+
+As the engine swept by them, Cecil sat up and surveyed the scene. It
+certainly was an unusual situation, and the half-light of the early
+morning only served to make their attitudes the more grotesque. The
+party was scattered at large over the field in question. Smith, on one
+knee, was rubbing the bruised portions of his body. Miss Arminster, who
+had landed safely on her feet, was standing with both hands clasped to
+her head, an attitude suggesting concussion of the brain, but which in
+reality betokened nothing more dreadful than an utter disarrangement of
+her hair. Spotts had assumed an unconventional attitude at her feet,
+while the Quaker, face down, with hands and legs outspread, seemed to be
+trying to swim due north.
+
+Directly opposite the Englishman, seated erect and prim on what had once
+been a hill of potatoes, her bonnet perched rakishly on one ear, and her
+grey toupee partially disarranged, hanging with its sustaining hairpins
+over her eyes, was Mrs. Mackintosh, firmly grasping in one hand her
+green silk parasol which she had never relinquished.
+
+As Banborough met her gaze, she demanded sternly:
+
+"What next, young man, I should like to know?"
+
+"Really, Mrs. Mackintosh," he replied, "if for no other reason, you
+ought to be deeply indebted to me as a purveyor of new sensations."
+
+"This is not a time for levity, sir," remarked that lady sternly,
+dropping her parasol and hastily restoring her toupee to its original
+position, "and I consider it perfectly disgraceful that you should cause
+a lady of my character to be arrested in a potato-patch at four o'clock
+in the morning!"
+
+"That's just what I've been endeavouring to prevent," he said. "I
+believe this to be Canada."
+
+"Then Canada's a very poor sort of a country," she replied snappishly.
+
+The others now approached them, and all eyes were turned to the
+railroad station a few hundred yards distant, which was alive with
+bobbing lanterns. Presently a cluster of lights detached itself from the
+rest and came towards them.
+
+"Do you think they're going to arrest us?" asked Miss Arminster timidly.
+
+"Don't you be afraid, miss," returned Friend Othniel. "You just let me
+run this circus, and I'll get you out all right and no mistake."
+
+The party now came up to them. It consisted of the station-master, the
+conductor, several trainmen, and the two policemen.
+
+"Here!" said the conductor. "What did you mean by pulling the cord and
+starting the train?"
+
+"Because we was anxious to see the beauties of Canady," replied the
+tramp.
+
+"Ah, I thought as much," said one of the policemen.
+
+"I am afraid," added the other, "we shall be obliged to persuade you and
+your party to stay in the United States for a while. You may consider
+yourselves under arrest."
+
+"Thank yer," said the tramp sweetly.
+
+"So, to save trouble," continued the officer, "you might as well come
+back quietly with us to the station."
+
+"Yah!" retorted the tramp. "'Will yer walk into my parlour?' said the
+spider to the fly. I knows that game, and I guess the climate o' Canady
+suits my constitution."
+
+"Nonsense!" replied the policeman. "You aren't over the border by about
+two miles."
+
+"Oh, ain't we?" said the tramp. "Just oblige me, then, by putting them
+bracelets which I sees hangin' out o' your pocket on my wrists." And he
+held out his hands.
+
+The policeman looked sheepish, whispered something to his companion, and
+presently they turned their backs on the party and walked away in the
+direction of the station.
+
+"We's so stuck on this piece o' land," called Friend Othniel after them,
+"that we thinks o' farmin' it permanently. Come back and spend Christmas
+with us, won't yer?"
+
+The officers did not deign to notice these remarks, and a few moments
+later the train swept by them on its way to Montreal, the baggage-master
+and his assistant giving their views on the party in general as they
+passed.
+
+The day now really began to break in earnest, bringing with it a cold,
+damp chill, which seemed to penetrate to their very marrow. Spotts took
+off his coat and wrapped it around the shivering Violet--an act of
+chivalry which made Banborough curse his own thoughtlessness. But
+Spotts's endeavours to promote the comfort of the company did not end
+here. He roused Friend Othniel into action, and succeeded in collecting
+a little stubble and underbrush, and with the aid of a few matches they
+made an apology for a fire, round which the forlorn party huddled. But,
+damp with the early dews, the brush gave out more smoke than flame, only
+serving to emphasize their discomfort.
+
+The increasing light showed them something of their surroundings. At
+distances varying from a mile to a mile and a half a few dilapidated
+dwellings peeped out of a fringe of woods. Everything else was
+pine-swamp, with the exception of the one small field of potatoes in
+which they were encamped, and which stood out as an oasis in the
+wilderness. Through the midst of the landscape straggled a muddy road,
+hopelessly impassable for foot-travellers. Certainly the outlook was not
+cheering.
+
+It was therefore with a feeling of positive relief that they perceived
+shambling towards them the uncouth figure of the station-master. He
+paused on the edge of the patch, with one hand embedded in his shock of
+hair, and the other grasping a large piece of chalk, and surveyed the
+party critically.
+
+"Say," he began after a few moments' silence, "them's my potatoes you're
+a-settin' on."
+
+The tramp growled something unintelligible, and the others vouchsafed no
+reply whatsoever.
+
+"I guess it must be purty damp out in that field," continued the
+station-master, "specially for the ladies, and I thought as how I'd let
+yer know as I was a-makin' some coffee over to the station, and yer
+could come and get it if yer liked."
+
+"Yes, and get arrested into the bargain," said Spotts.
+
+"I thought of that," replied the man, "and so I've drawed a line onto
+the platform with this piece of chalk, jest where the boundary be, and
+so long as yer stays to the northard of it yer can't be ketched."
+
+"How are we to know that that is just the boundary?" asked Banborough.
+
+"'Pears to me you're mighty 'spicious. Anyhow, thar's the line and
+thar's the coffee. Yer can take it or leave it, jest as yer likes."
+
+"I'd make it worth your while to bring it to us down here," said Cecil.
+
+"Humph!" returned the maker of beverages. "I don't go totin' coffee all
+round the country, and I'd like to remind yer as potatoes ain't eggs and
+don't need no hatchin', so the sooner you gets through settin' on 'em
+the better I'll be pleased." And turning his back he slouched away to
+the station.
+
+"What do you think about it?" said Banborough to Spotts.
+
+"I think it's a plan," replied the actor. "A New England farmer never
+misses a chance of making a penny when he can do so, and that fellow
+would have been glad enough to sell his coffee to us at a fancy price
+anywhere we chose to drink it if he hadn't been offered more to entice
+us up to the station."
+
+"Well, I'm not going to pass the rest of my days on top of a
+potato-hill," said Mrs. Mackintosh spitefully. "I'm so stiff now I can
+hardly move."
+
+"Yes, I don't think there's much to wait for," agreed Cecil. "But where
+shall we go?"
+
+"To the next station, I guess," said the tramp. "But in Canady that's as
+likely to be thirteen miles as it is two, and this track ain't ballasted
+for a walking-tour."
+
+The fair Violet heaved a deep sigh.
+
+"What is it?" asked Banborough anxiously. "Don't you feel well?"
+
+"I do feel a little faint," she replied, "but I dare say I'll be better
+in a minute. I shouldn't have sighed, only I was thinking what an old
+wretch that station-master is, and how good that coffee would have
+tasted."
+
+"You shall have some," he said, determined not to be outdone again by
+Spotts, "and I'll get it for you myself."
+
+"No, no!" she protested. "I didn't mean that. I shouldn't have said it.
+I wouldn't have you go for worlds. You'd surely be arrested."
+
+"Nonsense!" he replied. "I think I can manage it and get back safely,
+and you and Mrs. Mackintosh must have something sustaining, for you've a
+long walk before you." And, in spite of all remonstrances, he prepared
+to set out on his delicate and dangerous mission.
+
+"What's your plan?" asked Friend Othniel, immensely interested now there
+was a chance of an adventure.
+
+"I'm going to crawl along in the dry ditch beside the railroad track
+till I get up to the station, and then trust to luck. I used to be able
+to do a hundred yards in pretty decent time in my Oxford days, and if I
+can get into the refreshment-room without being seen, I don't think
+they'll catch me."
+
+"Well, good luck to yer," said the tramp, "and if yer should come across
+a hunk of pumpkin pie, don't forget your friend Othniel."
+
+Banborough slipped off his overcoat, and donning a pair of heavy dogskin
+gloves, the property of the driver of the Black Maria, which the tramp
+produced, he watched his opportunity when no one was in sight at the
+station, and, cautioning the rest of the party not to betray by their
+actions that anything unusual was going on, stole across the open field
+and, dropping into the shallow ditch, began his perilous journey.
+
+Within three feet of the edge of the platform all means of concealment
+ceased; but feeling that a bold course was the only one which gave any
+hope of success, Cecil rose quickly, and, slipping across the exposed
+place in an instant, glided into the great woodshed which in that part
+of the world, where coal is expensive, forms an important adjunct to
+every station. He felt himself practically secure here, as no one was
+likely to come for logs so early in the morning; and after waiting for a
+few moments to make certain that his presence had not been discovered,
+he threw himself down on his face, and, crawling noiselessly on
+all-fours across the twenty feet of open platform which intervened
+between the woodshed and the main building, achieved the precarious
+shelter afforded by the side wall of the house. He then wormed himself
+forward till he was close to the front corner; and here his patient
+efforts were at last rewarded, for he heard a few scraps of a
+conversation which, had he been in a less dangerous position, would have
+afforded him infinite amusement.
+
+"I tell you what it is," came the strident voice of the station-master.
+"It ain't no mortal manner of use. Why, they spotted me to onct; said
+how was they to know I drawed the line correct."
+
+"Ha!" said one of the policemen. "Couldn't you go out and dicker with
+them some more?"
+
+"Nope," rejoined the other shortly. "And there's that whole tin o'
+coffee in the back room goin' to waste, and I guess they'd have paid
+more'n a dollar for it."
+
+"Where's Mr. Marchmont?" asked the second speaker, a remark which caused
+Banborough considerable surprise.
+
+"He's been keepin' out o' the way o' them Spaniards," said the
+station-master, "lest they should get a sight of him, 'cause he may have
+to shadow 'em in Canady, and he don't want 'em to get on to who he is.
+He's gone upstairs now to get a snooze, an' that's where I'm goin', too.
+There ain't no train for three hours, and I've had enough o' this durned
+foolishness."
+
+"What's that?" cried the policeman, as a sharp sound smote their ears.
+
+"Tain't nothin' but the back door slammin'," replied the other. "I must
+ha' forgot to latch it. The wind's riz a bit."
+
+"Yes," said the officer, "and it's going to rain presently."
+
+"I guess I'd better go and shet that door."
+
+"No, you stay here; I want to talk to you. We'll let them get thoroughly
+drenched, and you can offer them the hospitality of the woodshed. Maybe
+we could alter the boundary-line a few feet in the interests of
+justice."
+
+Banborough waited to hear no more, but, drawing softly back, sprang to
+his feet and ran noiselessly along the side of the house and round to
+the unlatched door behind. Now, if ever, was his chance. He dashed into
+a room which seemed to be a combination of kitchen and bar, but on the
+stove stood a steaming tin can of savoury coffee, while among the
+bottles on the shelf, just showing out of its paper wrappings, was a
+goodly loaf of white bread. Had he left well alone, and been satisfied
+with the coffee, he would have been all right; but the bread tempted
+him, and to obtain possession of it he must go behind the bar. This he
+hastened to do, unlatching the little swinging gate at the end, when a
+scuffling sound from the room above gave place to heavy foot-falls on
+the boards, and a moment later Marchmont called down the stairs which
+evidently led into the front room:
+
+"Say! One of that gang's in the bar! I saw him come up to the door as I
+was lying in bed!" A bit of information which was instantly followed by
+a clatter of chairs on the front platform.
+
+Wedged in behind the bar, Banborough felt himself trapped. But a happy
+inspiration seizing him, he possessed himself of the can of coffee and,
+with the loaf of bread in his other hand, crawled under the protecting
+shelf, while just at that moment a particularly strong gust of wind blew
+the unlatched door wide open, banging it back against the wall.
+
+To his intense astonishment, Cecil found his hiding-place already
+occupied by the recumbent and sleeping form of a man, and, jumping to
+the conclusion that he must be either a policeman or a detective, he
+promptly sat upon his head with a view to suppressing any inopportune
+remarks. A second later three men rushed into the room, and Banborough
+held his breath. But luck was with him, for one glance at the empty
+stove and the open door satisfied the station-master, who cried:
+
+"Those fellows has bolted with the coffee!" and dashed out at the back,
+followed by the policemen.
+
+In a second Cecil was up and out of the bar, but not before he had
+received a smashing blow in the ribs from the stranger he had so rudely
+awakened. He promptly struck out in return, and from the sputtering and
+thrashing sounds which emanated from under the shelf he judged that his
+blow had gone home.
+
+Snatching up the coffee and the bread, he dashed through to the front of
+the house, and, emerging on the platform, saw a sight which filled his
+heart with joy. On the track stood one of those little flat cars,
+employed by section-men, which is propelled by means of a wheel and
+crank in the centre turned by hand, on the same principle as a
+velocipede.
+
+He sprang upon it, deposited his precious burden, and began turning the
+crank with feverish energy. To his joy, the car at once started
+forward, and under his well-directed pressure went rattling out of the
+station, shooting by his three astonished pursuers as they rounded the
+corner of the woodshed. Two minutes later he arrived in triumph at the
+potato-patch, being warmly welcomed by his admiring companions, who
+forthwith fell to and made a satisfying, if frugal, meal.
+
+Just as they were finishing, the station-master came up, and, being
+rendered thoroughly amiable by a liberal recompense for the stolen
+viands, so far forgot himself, in his appreciation of Banborough's
+pluck, as to admit that there was no objection to their taking the flat
+car on to the next station, provided they could square it with the
+superintendent on arrival, as there were no trains due either way.
+
+"How far is the next station?" asked Cecil, as the party clambered on to
+the car.
+
+"About twelve miles," said Miss Arminster.
+
+"Do you know it?" asked Banborough, still glowing under her praises of
+his prowess.
+
+"Oh, yes," she replied softly. "I was married there last June."
+
+The Englishman, muttering something under his breath, seized the handles
+and, giving them a vicious turn, sent the car spinning northwards.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+IN WHICH A LOCKET IS ACCEPTED AND A RING REFUSED.
+
+
+Something over a week after the events narrated in the last chapter,
+Banborough was lounging in the office of the Windsor Hotel at Montreal.
+The course of events had run more smoothly for the party since the day
+they arrived in the city, weary and travel-stained with their
+adventurous trip. Montreal in general, and the manager of the Windsor in
+particular, were accustomed to see travellers from the States appear in
+all sorts of garbs and all kinds of conditions incident to a hasty
+departure, so their coming occasioned little comment; and as Cecil never
+did things by halves, they were soon rehabilitated and installed in the
+best apartments the hotel could offer.
+
+The various members of the party, after the first excitement was over,
+had relapsed into a listless existence, which, however, was destined to
+be rudely disturbed, for while the Englishman's thoughts were wandering
+in anything but a practical direction, he was aroused from his reverie
+by a well-known voice, and, turning, found himself face to face with
+Marchmont.
+
+"Well, who on earth would have thought of seeing you here?" exclaimed
+the journalist. "Have you fled to Canada to escape being lionised?"
+
+"No," said Banborough cautiously, "not exactly for that reason."
+
+"We couldn't imagine what had become of you," continued his friend.
+"You're the hero of the hour in New York, I can tell you, and 'The
+Purple Kangaroo' is achieving the greatest success of the decade."
+
+"Oh, confound 'The Purple Kangaroo--'!"
+
+"That's right; run it down. Your modesty becomes you. But seriously, old
+man, let me congratulate you. You must be making heaps out of it."
+
+"Let's talk about something else," said Banborough wearily, for he was
+heartily sick of his unfortunate novel. "You ask me why I'm here. I'll
+return the compliment. Why are you?"
+
+"Why," returned Marchmont, "you're partially to blame for it, you know.
+I'm after those Spanish conspirators. Of course you've heard the story?"
+
+"No," said Banborough. "I haven't been in town for a fortnight. What is
+it?"
+
+"Well, we arrested a lovely senorita on Fourteenth Street who was using
+the title of your novel as a password. I can tell you confidentially
+that there's no doubt that she's one of the cleverest and most
+unscrupulous female spies in the Spanish secret service; and while they
+were deciding where to take her, a stranger, who we're certain was one
+of the Secretaries of their Legation, eloped with her, Black Maria and
+all, with the recklessness of a true hidalgo. They were joined by a
+band outside the city, where they overcame a Justice of the Peace who
+arrested them, after a desperate resistance on his part. The story of
+this unequal battle was one of the finest bits of bravery we've had for
+years.
+
+"After dining at a hotel at Yonkers they held up the waiter with
+revolvers and escaped. Similar audacities were perpetrated at the
+boundary-line between the United States and Canada, and in spite of the
+most intelligent and valiant efforts on the part of the police, aided by
+our own special corps of detectives, they've so far eluded us. Their
+leader's said to be a perfect devil, who, as I tell you, is certainly a
+Secretary of the Spanish Legation."
+
+"How do you know that?" asked Banborough.
+
+"Ah," said Marchmont, looking wise and shaking his head, "the _Daily
+Leader_ has private sources of information. I wonder you've not heard
+anything of this."
+
+"Yes," acquiesced the Englishman, "it _is_ curious, isn't it?"
+
+"But," continued his friend, "you haven't told me yet why you came to
+Montreal."
+
+"Well," said Cecil, laughing, "I can at least assure you that my trip
+here has been much less eventful than the one you described."
+
+"By the way," said the journalist, "have you seen the last editorial
+about your book in the _Daily Leader_?"
+
+The Englishman shook his head.
+
+"No? Well, here goes." And Marchmont began to read forthwith:
+
+"'English conservatism has recently received a shock from the scion of
+Blanford, and the Bishop's son, in connection with 'The Purple
+Kangaroo,' has caused the British lion to hump himself into the hotbed
+of American politics--'"
+
+"Oh, shut up!" said Cecil, with more force than politeness.
+
+"Don't you like it?" exclaimed the journalist. "There's a column and a
+half more. I blue-pencilled a copy and sent it over to your old man."
+
+Banborough groaned.
+
+"But," continued Marchmont, "this isn't anything to what we'll do when
+we've hounded the Dons out of Canada."
+
+"What?" cried the author.
+
+"Yes," went on his friend. "We've complained to your Foreign Office, and
+within a week every Spanish conspirator will receive notice to quit Her
+Majesty's North American colonies on pain of instant arrest and
+deportation."
+
+Cecil waited to hear no more, but, pleading an imperative engagement,
+rushed away to summon the members of his party to a hurried council of
+war in their private sitting-room. All were present with the exception
+of Miss Arminster, who had gone to spend the day at a convent in the
+suburbs, where she had been brought up as a child.
+
+After an hour of useless debating the council ended, as Banborough might
+have foreseen from the first, in the party giving up any solution of the
+problem as hopeless, and putting themselves unreservedly in his hands to
+lead them out of their difficulties. Cecil, who felt himself ill
+equipped for the role of a Moses, jammed his hat on his head, lit his
+pipe, and, thrusting his hands in his pockets, said he was going out
+where he could be quiet and think about it.
+
+"Going to the Blue Nunnery, he means," said Smith, laughing, and nudging
+Spotts.
+
+The actor grunted. Apparently the author's attentions to the fascinating
+Violet did not meet with his unqualified approval.
+
+An hour later Banborough stood in the grey old garden of the nunnery,
+the sister who was his guide silently pointing out to him the figure of
+the little actress, whose bright garments were in striking contrast to
+the severe simplicity of her surroundings. When the Englishman turned to
+thank the nun, she had disappeared, and he and Miss Arminster had the
+garden to themselves.
+
+She stood with her back to him, bending over some roses, unconscious of
+his presence, and for a few moments he remained silent, watching her
+unobserved. The ten days which had passed had done much to alter his
+position towards her, and he had come to fully realise that he was
+honestly in love with this woman. Even the fact of her having been
+married at Ste. Anne de Beau Pre, which information he had elicited from
+her on the occasion of their pilgrimage to that shrine a few days
+before, had not served to cool his ardour. Indeed, the fact that his
+suit seemed hopeless made him all the more anxious to win her for his
+wife.
+
+After he had been watching her for some minutes, a subtle intuition
+seemed to tell her of his presence, and he approached her as she raised
+her face from the roses to greet him.
+
+"I came to see you--" he began, and paused, hardly knowing how to
+continue.
+
+"Am I not then allowed even one holiday?" she asked.
+
+"Is my presence so much of a burden?" he inquired, realising for the
+first time the full force of what her statement implied, as a hurried
+mental review of the past fortnight showed him that he had scarcely ever
+been absent from her side. Indeed, it no longer seemed natural not to
+be with her.
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean to be rude," she said, "but I do like a day out of
+the world occasionally. You know, when I come back here I forget for the
+time that I've ever lived any other life than that which is associated
+with this dear old place."
+
+He thought grimly that a young lady who had been married four times
+before she was twenty-five must have to undergo a considerable amount of
+mental obliteration.
+
+"I think you'd tire of it very soon if you had to live here always," he
+said.
+
+"I'm not sure," she replied. "I think--but of course you wouldn't
+understand that--only, life on the stage isn't all bright and amusing,
+and there are times when one simply longs for a quiet, old-world place
+like this."
+
+"I believe you'd like Blanford," he suggested.
+
+"I should love it," she assured him. "But what would your father say to
+me? I'd probably shock him out of his gaiters--if he wears them. Does
+he?"
+
+"I suppose so," said Cecil. The fact was that the raiment of the Bishop
+of Blanford did not particularly interest him at that moment. He had
+more important things to talk about, things that had no connection
+whatsoever with the immediate future of the A. B. C. Company. Yet the
+mention of his father caused him to stop and think, and thought, in this
+case, proved fatal to sentiment. He thrust his hands into his pockets
+and addressed himself to the more prosaic topics of life, saying:
+
+"My excuse for intruding on you is that our troubles are by no means
+over. The authorities, not content with driving us out of the United
+States, are preparing to order us out of Canada as well, and the
+question of where we are to go is decidedly perplexing."
+
+"Oh, dear!" said the little woman, "I think I'll go into the convent
+after all."
+
+"That settles the difficulty as far as you're concerned. Do you think
+they'd admit me?"
+
+"Don't talk nonsense. What do the others say?"
+
+"Oh, they say a good many things, but nothing practical, so I came to
+you for advice."
+
+"Well, to speak frankly," she replied, "if I were you, I'd drop us all
+and run away home. It's much the easiest solution of the difficulty."
+
+"Excuse me," he said. "I'm a gentleman, and besides--"
+
+"Well, what?"
+
+"Besides," he continued, thinking it better to be discreet, "I doubt if
+I should be welcome. I've a letter from the governor in my pocket, which
+I haven't yet had courage to open. I dare say it won't be pleasant
+reading; besides which, it's been chasing me round the country for the
+last five or six weeks, and must be rather ancient history."
+
+"Look at it and see," she advised. "They may be ready to kill the fatted
+calf for you, after all."
+
+"I'm afraid they do regard me rather in the light of a prodigal," he
+admitted. "However, here goes." And breaking the seal of the envelope,
+he read the letter aloud:
+
+  "THE PALACE, BLANFORD.
+
+  "MY DEAR SON:
+
+     "Do you realise that it is nearly a year since your Aunt Matilda
+     and I have received news of you? This has been a source of great
+     grief and pain to both of us, but it has not moved me to anger. It
+     has rather caused me to devote such hours as I could spare from
+     the preparation of my series of sermons on the miracle of Jonah to
+     personal introspection, in the endeavour to discover, if possible,
+     whether the cause of our estrangement lay in any defect of my own.
+
+     "It may be that you achieve a certain degree of spiritual
+     enlightenment in producing a book entitled 'The Purple Kangaroo.'
+     I hope so, though I have not read it. Nor do I wholly agree with
+     your good aunt, who contends that the title savours too much of
+     the Apocrypha, and I say nothing of the undesirable popularity you
+     seem to have attained in the United States. I only ask you to come
+     home.
+
+     "As a proof of her reconciliation, your aunt included a copy of
+     your book in her last mission box to the Ojibway Indians. I shall
+     always be glad to receive and make welcome any of your friends at
+     the palace, no matter how different their tastes and principles
+     may be to my own well-defined course of action.
+
+     "In the hope of better things,
+
+  "YOUR AFFECTIONATE FATHER."
+
+"Of course you'll go," Violet said softly.
+
+"Oh, I don't know about that," he replied.
+
+"I do," she returned. "It's your duty. What a dear old chap he must
+be!--so thoroughly prosy and honest. I'm sure I should love him. I know
+just the sort of man he is. A downright Nonconformist minister of the
+midland counties, who was consecrated a Bishop by mistake."
+
+Cecil paused a minute, thinking it over.
+
+"How about the others?" he said.
+
+"Ah, yes," she replied, "the others. But perhaps you don't class them as
+your friends."
+
+"Oh, it isn't that," he answered. "Only I was wondering--"
+
+"What the Bishop would say?" she asked, looking at him with a roguish
+smile. "Well, why not take him at his word and find out."
+
+"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "I will! I believe you've hit on the very best
+possible solution of our difficulty. The episcopal palace at Blanford is
+absolutely the last place in the world where any one would think of
+looking for a political conspirator, and, by some freak of fortune, the
+police are entirely ignorant that I'm in any way connected with your
+flight."
+
+"Good! then it's settled!" she cried. "And we'll all accompany you."
+
+"Ye-es, only the governor wouldn't go within a hundred yards of a
+theatre, and my aunt calls actors children of--I forget whom--some one
+in the Old Testament."
+
+"Belial," suggested Miss Arminster.
+
+"That's it. How did you know?"
+
+"You forget," she said, "I was brought up in a convent."
+
+"It'll never do," he continued, "for them to suspect who you really
+are."
+
+"Are we not actors?"
+
+"Of course. We must have a dress rehearsal at once, and cast you for
+your parts. But there's Friend Othniel--"
+
+"Ah, yes," she said. "He's impossible."
+
+"We must drop him somehow."
+
+"That's easily managed," she replied. "Pay his hotel bill, and leave him
+a note with a nice little cheque in it to be delivered after we've
+gone."
+
+"Then we must get away quickly, or he'll suspect."
+
+"The sooner the better."
+
+"I noticed that there was a ship sailing from Montreal for England this
+afternoon."
+
+"That'll just suit our purpose," she said. "Friend Othniel told me he
+was going to walk up Mount Royal after lunch and wouldn't be back before
+six."
+
+"And you'll really come to Blanford?" he asked, taking her hand.
+
+"Of course," she said. "Why should you doubt it?"
+
+"Because," he replied, "it seems too good to be true. I was thinking,
+hoping, that perhaps I might persuade you to come there for good, and
+never go away."
+
+"Ah," she interrupted him, "you're not going to say that?"
+
+"Why not?" he asked.
+
+"Because we've been such friends," she answered, "and it's quite
+impossible."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"Perfectly. And oh, I didn't want you to say it."
+
+"But can't we be friends still?" he insisted.
+
+"With all my heart, if you'll forget this mad dream. It would have been
+impossible, even if I were free. Your people would never have accepted
+me, and I would only have been a drag on you."
+
+"No, no!" he denied vehemently.
+
+"There," she said, "we won't talk about it. You've been one of the best
+friends I ever had, and--what's in that locket you wear?"
+
+"That?" he replied, touching a little blue-enamelled case that hung from
+his watch-chain. "It has nothing more interesting in it at present than
+a picture of myself. But I'd hoped--"
+
+"Give it to me, will you," she asked, "in remembrance of to-day?"
+
+He detached it silently from his chain, and, pressing it to his lips,
+placed it in her hand.
+
+"I'll always wear it," she said.
+
+There was an awkward silence for a moment, and then, pulling himself
+together, he remarked brusquely:
+
+"I suppose we'd better be starting for town."
+
+"I'll join you later," she replied. "I want to go to mid-day service in
+the little church next to this convent. Such a pretty little church. I
+was married there once."
+
+"You were what? Are you really serious, Miss Arminster?"
+
+"Perfectly," she answered, giving him a bewitching little smile as she
+tripped out of the garden.
+
+
+
+
+PART II.
+
+
+_ENGLAND_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+IN WHICH MRS. MACKINTOSH ADMIRES JONAH.
+
+
+"I think, Matilda, that you must have neglected to put any sugar in my
+tea," said the Bishop of Blanford, pushing his cup towards his sister,
+after tasting the first mouthful.
+
+"You're quite right, Josephus, I did," she replied.
+
+"And," continued his Lordship, who, being near-sighted, was poking
+about, after the manner of a mole, in the three-storied brass bird-cage
+which held the more substantial portion of the repast, "there doesn't
+seem to be any cake."
+
+"You forget," said Miss Matilda sternly, "that it's an ember-day."
+
+Her brother said nothing, and took a mouthful of the tea, which, like
+the morality of the palace, was strong and bitter. But his ample chest
+expanded with just the slightest sigh of regret, causing the massive
+episcopal cross of gold filigree, set with a single sapphire, which
+rested thereon, to rise and fall gently. Miss Matilda's hawklike eye saw
+and noted this as the first slight sign of rebellion, and she hastened
+to mete out justice swift and stern, saying:
+
+"You remember, Josephus, that there's a special service at the mission
+church at five, at which I consider you ought to be present."
+
+His Lordship had not forgotten it, or the circumstance that the
+afternoon was exceedingly hot, and that the mission church, which was
+situated in an outlying slum, was made of corrugated tin. The palace
+garden would have been infinitely preferable, and he knew that had he
+accepted sugarless tea without a murmur, his chaplain would have
+sweltered in his place. As it was, he submitted meekly, and his sister
+gazed at him with a satisfied expression of triumph across her bright
+green tea-cloth. If Miss Matilda had a weakness, it was for
+ecclesiastical tea-cloths. White was reserved for Sundays and
+feast-days; on ordinary occasions, at this time of the year, her ritual
+prescribed green.
+
+They were seated in the garden of the palace, a peaceful Arcadia which
+it was difficult to realise was only separated from a dusty and concrete
+world by a battlemented wall which formed the horizon. The sky overhead
+was so blue and cloudless that it might have formed the background for
+an Italian landscape, and framed against it was the massive tower of the
+cathedral, its silver-greys darkening almost to black, as a buttress
+here and there brought it in shadow. Among its pinnacles a few wise old
+rooks flapped lazily in the still air, as much a part of their
+surroundings as the stately swans that floated on the stream which
+lapped the foot of the tower, while on all sides there stretched away a
+great sweep of that perfect verdure which only England knows.
+
+"It's nearly two months since I last wrote to Cecil," said the Bishop,
+judging it wise to change the trend of the conversation, "and I've not
+heard a word."
+
+"I'm sure I should be surprised if you had," snapped Miss Matilda. "And
+what your sainted Sarah would have felt, had she lived to see her son's
+disgraceful career, makes me shudder."
+
+The Bishop started to sigh again. Then, thinking better of it, stopped.
+He had returned to Blanford from his rest-cure a week before, and
+apparently the air of Scotland had not proved as beneficial as he had
+expected.
+
+"I believe that Cecil will come back to us," he said, ignoring his
+sister's last remark. "I told him that his friends would be welcome here
+in future, and I particularly mentioned that you'd put a copy of his
+book in your last missionary box."
+
+"I hope you didn't neglect to say that I tore out all the pictures. A
+more scandalous collection--"
+
+But she never finished her denunciation of the novel, for just at that
+moment the Bishop sprang to his feet with a glad cry of "Cecil!"
+
+The young man came running across the lawn to meet his father, seizing
+him warmly by the hand, and having administered a dutiful peck to his
+aunt, turned to introduce the little group of strangers who had
+accompanied him.
+
+"Father," he said, "these are my friends. On the strength of your letter
+I've taken the liberty of asking them to be my guests as well."
+
+"They're very welcome to the palace," said the Bishop.
+
+Cecil turned, and leading the two ladies forward, presented them to his
+father and his aunt. Miss Matilda swept them both with a comprehensive
+glance, and addressing Mrs. Mackintosh, remarked:
+
+"Your daughter, I presume," indicating Miss Arminster. Whereupon the
+good lady coloured violently and denied the fact.
+
+"Your niece?" insisted Miss Matilda, who was an excellent catechist, as
+generations of unfortunate children could bear witness.
+
+"A young lady whom I'm chaperoning in Europe," replied Mrs. Mackintosh
+stiffly, in an effort to be truthful, and at the same time to furnish
+Violet with a desirable status in the party.
+
+The tragedian was now brought forward.
+
+"Allow me," said Banborough, in pursuance of a prearranged scheme of
+action--"allow me to introduce my friend Professor Tybalt Smith. You,
+father, are of course acquainted with his scholarly work on monumental
+brasses."
+
+The Bishop naturally was not conversant with the book in question,
+because it had never been written, but he was entirely too pedantic to
+admit the fact; so he smiled, and congratulated the Professor most
+affably on what he termed "his well-known attainments," assuring him
+that he would find in the cathedral a rich field of research in his
+particular line of work.
+
+Spotts was now brought up, and introduced as a rising young architect of
+ecclesiastical tendencies, which delighted his Lordship immensely as
+there was nothing he liked better than to explain every detail of his
+cathedral to an appreciative listener.
+
+"I've a bit of old dog-tooth I shall want you to look at to-morrow,"
+said his host, "and there's some Roman tiling in the north transept that
+absolutely demands your attention."
+
+Spotts smiled assent, but was evidently bewildered, and seizing the
+first opportunity that offered, asked Cecil in a low voice if his father
+took him for a dentist or a mason.
+
+"For a dentist or a mason?" queried Banborough. "I don't understand."
+
+"Well, anyway, he said something about looking after his old dog's teeth
+and attending to his tiles."
+
+Cecil exploded in a burst of laughter, saying:
+
+"That's only the architectural jargon, man. You must play the game."
+
+"Oh, I see," said the actor. "It's about his ramshackle old church.
+Well, I'll do my best--" But his assurances were cut short by the flow
+of his Lordship's conversation.
+
+"As I was saying, Mr. Spotts," he continued, "I should be much
+interested to hear your American views on the subject of a clerestory."
+
+"Sure," replied the actor, plunging recklessly. "I always believe in
+having four clear stories at least, and in New York and Chicago we run
+'em up as high as--" But here a premonitory kick from Cecil brought his
+speech to an abrupt termination.
+
+"Most astonishing," commented his Lordship. "I've never heard of more
+than one."
+
+"Oh, our Western churches are chock-full of new wrinkles."
+
+"Of new--what? I don't understand. Another cup' of tea for you, Mrs.
+Mackintosh? Certainly. We must pursue this subject at leisure, Mr.
+Spotts."
+
+The party now turned their attention to the repast, and the Bishop
+proceeded to devote himself to Mrs. Mackintosh.
+
+"I'm afraid," he said, when he had seen her sufficiently fortified with
+tea containing a due allowance of sugar, and supplemented by a plateful
+of cake which he had ordered to be brought as a practical substitute for
+the scriptural calf--"I'm afraid you will find our simple life at
+Blanford very dull."
+
+"Dear sakes, no!" said that lady, hitching her chair up closer to the
+Bishop for a confidential chat--an action on her part which elicited a
+flashing glance of disapproval from Miss Matilda.
+
+"I've heard all about you," she went on, "from your son Cecil. You don't
+mind if I call him Cecil, do you? for I'm almost old enough to be his
+mother. Well, as I was saying, when he told me about the cathedral and
+the beeches and the rooks and you, all being here, hundreds of years
+old--"
+
+"Excuse me, madam," said his Lordship, "I'm hardly as aged as that."
+
+"Of course I didn't mean you, stupid! How literal you English are!"
+
+It is highly probable that in all the sixty years of his well-ordered
+existence the Bishop of Blanford had never been called "stupid" by
+anybody. He gasped, and the episcopal cross, and even the heavy gold
+chain by which it depended from his neck, were unduly agitated. Then he
+decided that he liked it, and determined to continue the conversation.
+
+"When I thought of all that," said Mrs. Mackintosh, "I said to your son:
+'Cecil,' said I, 'your father's like that old board fence in my back
+yard; he needs a coat of whitewash to freshen him up, and I'm going over
+to put it on.'"
+
+"Cromwell," remarked the Bishop, "applied enough whitewash to Blanford
+to last it for several centuries. Indeed, we've not succeeded in
+restoring all the frescoes yet."
+
+"Nonsense, man," said Mrs. Mackintosh, "you don't see the point at all.
+Now what do you take when your liver's out of order?"
+
+"Really, madam," faltered the Bishop, thoroughly aghast at this new turn
+in the conversation, "I--er--generally consult my medical adviser."
+
+"Well, you shouldn't!" said Mrs. Mackintosh with determination. "You
+should take what we call in my country a pick-me-up. Now I said to your
+son: 'I'm going to be a mental and moral pick-me-up for your father.
+What he needs is a new point of view. If you don't take care, he'll
+fossilise, and you'll have to put him in the British Museum.'"
+
+The Bishop's reflections during this conversation were many and varied.
+What he was pleased to term his inner moral consciousness told him he
+ought to be shocked at its flippancy; the rest of his mental make-up was
+distinctly refreshed. Besides, a certain tension in the social
+atmosphere suggested that Miss Matilda was about to go forth to battle,
+so he smiled graciously, saying:
+
+"It's certainly very considerate of you to undertake all this on my
+account, but I should not like to be in any one's debt, and I hardly see
+how I can repay my obligations."
+
+"I'm just coming to that," said Mrs. Mackintosh. "I don't say that I
+shouldn't be doing a Christian act by taking you in hand, but I'm free
+to admit that I've a personal interest in the matter, for you're the
+one man in England I most wanted to meet."
+
+"But what can there possibly be about me--" began the Bishop.
+
+"It isn't about you," replied his guest. "It's about Jonah."
+
+"Josephus," broke in the harsh voice of his sister, "the bell of the
+mission chapel has been ringing for some time."
+
+The Bishop drew a long breath and formed a mighty resolve. At last he
+had met a person who took an intelligent interest in Jonah, a Biblical
+character to whose history he had devoted exhaustive research. It was a
+golden opportunity not to be let slip. So, turning to his sister and
+looking her squarely in the eyes, he replied boldly that he was quite
+aware of the fact.
+
+"If you do not go at once you'll be late," remarked that lady.
+
+"I've not the slightest intention of going at all," said the Bishop.
+"I'm talking to Mrs. Mackintosh, who is, it seems, much interested in
+Jonah."
+
+There came a sound as of spluttering from the upraised tea-cup of
+Professor Tybalt Smith, and Miss Matilda gave a distinctly aggressive
+sniff.
+
+"If you're not going, Josephus," she retorted, "I must send word to one
+of the chaplains, though after what you had said I naturally--" But
+there she paused, arrested by the incredible fact that for the first
+time in her experience her brother was not listening to what she was
+saying. Her silence commanded his attention.
+
+"Oh," he replied, looking up vacantly, "do what you think proper," and
+turned again to Mrs. Mackintosh, who proceeded placidly with her theme.
+
+"Of course," she said, "you hear a lot about seeing with the eye of
+faith, but I like to see with the eye of understanding, too, and I never
+yet sat under a preacher who was what I should call 'up to Jonah.' I
+read your book when it came out. It was one of the prizes they offered
+for selling on commission fifty packets of Tinker's Tannin Tea, and I've
+been wild to meet you ever since. I have been a-whaling, so to speak,
+for years, but I expect you to carry me safely into port."
+
+"Madam," said the Bishop, "you overwhelm me." He was immensely flattered
+by her appreciative, if outspoken, commendation. "I'm now," he
+continued, "at work on a set of supplementary sermons on this very
+subject; and if it wouldn't be imposing too much on your good nature to
+let me read them to you, or parts of them--they embrace some six hundred
+pages."
+
+Mrs. Mackintosh looked at him regretfully.
+
+"Isn't there any more than that?" she said. "I wanted three volumes at
+least."
+
+The Bishop beamed with gratification.
+
+"I trust," he replied, "that they'll be worthy of your attention. But my
+treatment of the subject is--er--slightly doctrinal, and perhaps you're
+not a member of the Church of England."
+
+"Well, no," said Mrs. Mackintosh. "I can't say as I am. I was baptised a
+Methodist, brought up in a Roman Catholic convent, finished at a
+Presbyterian boarding-school, and married before a Justice of the Peace
+to a Unitarian, and since I've been a widow I've attended a Baptist
+church regularly; but I don't believe I'd mind a few weeks of an
+Episcopalian, specially seeing he's a Bishop, which I haven't
+experienced before."
+
+"I shall endeavour to do my best, madam," said his Lordship. "Perhaps I
+may even lead you--in time--"
+
+"Well, I shouldn't be surprised but what you might," replied Mrs.
+Mackintosh, "but I mustn't take up all your time. I want you to know my
+little friend Miss Arminster. She's one of the nicest girls that ever
+was."
+
+"I shall be delighted," said his Lordship. "Arminster," he continued
+reflectively. "Does she come from the Arminsters of Shropshire?"
+
+Mrs. Mackintosh laughed.
+
+"I'm sure I don't know," she replied, "but from the way her friends
+speak of her, you'd think she came from Noah's Ark."
+
+"Dear me!" said the Bishop. "That's very curious."
+
+"They call her the Leopard," she went on, "and I must say for my part
+that I'm 'most as fond of the Leopard as I am of Jonah's whale." And she
+rose and joined the group about the tea-table, for she did not wish to
+try Miss Matilda's patience too far.
+
+"I don't know what you'll think of our quiet life. I fear it'll seem
+very strange to you," said his Lordship, addressing himself to Miss
+Arminster.
+
+"I think it'll be jolly," she replied promptly, looking up at him
+playfully to see whether he would bear chaffing, "and," she added, after
+due deliberation, "I think you're a dear, and your uniform is just
+sweet. I always did love a uniform. I used to be awfully gone, as a
+child, on a policeman at the corner of our block, but you're much more
+nicely dressed than he was."
+
+His Lordship started to say something crushing in regard to the sanctity
+of ecclesiastical trappings, but another glance at the bewitching
+little figure that confronted him caused him to remark instead that he
+was glad she approved of him, and that he would try to take better care
+of her than even a guardian of the law.
+
+"Oh, I'm afraid I've said something shocking!" she exclaimed in a
+delightfully naive manner, "and I did mean to be so good and decorous.
+I'm sure I'll need a lot of teaching."
+
+"I shall be delighted to undertake the task," he replied gallantly.
+"Suppose we begin by going to evensong. Would you like to do so?"
+
+"Rather," she returned; "but I'm afraid," looking at her
+travelling-costume, "that I'm hardly dressed for the part--I mean the
+occasion."
+
+"Dear me!" said the Bishop, scrutinizing her keenly, "it seems to be a
+very pretty gown."
+
+"Oh, that's all right," she said. "Then we'll go at once."
+
+"So we shall," he replied, "and you shall sit in the stalls."
+
+"How jolly!" she exclaimed. "I almost always have to sit in the
+balcony."
+
+"Really?" said his Lordship. "You don't say so. But from what Mr. Spotts
+says, I should judge that the architecture of American churches was
+novel." And they walked across the lawn to the cathedral.
+
+A few moments later, Miss Matilda, having dismissed her guests to their
+rooms, found herself alone with her nephew.
+
+"Well," she said, turning on him sharply, "perhaps at last you'll
+condescend to tell me who these _friends_ of yours are?"
+
+"They're a party of ladies and gentlemen with whom I've been travelling
+in America," Cecil replied. "And as we'd agreed to join forces for the
+rest of the summer, I'd no option but to invite them here as my guests.
+The gentlemen I've already introduced to you--"
+
+"Oh, the gentlemen!" snapped his aunt. "I've no concern about them.
+It's the women I--"
+
+"The ladies, Aunt Matilda."
+
+"The ladies, then. Your father, in what he is pleased to call his
+wisdom, has seen fit to allow you to introduce these persons into his
+house. I'm sure I hope he won't regret it! But I must insist on knowing
+something about the people whom I'm entertaining."
+
+"As I've told you already," he replied very quietly, "they're ladies
+whom I've met in America. I might also add that they've good manners and
+are uniformly courteous."
+
+Miss Matilda tilted her nose till its tip pointed straight at the spire
+of the cathedral, and, without any reply, swept past him into the house.
+
+Dinner, that night, in spite of his aunt's efforts to the contrary, was
+an unqualified success. The Bishop hailed with joy any interruption in
+the monotony of his daily life, and made himself most agreeable, while
+his guests seconded him to the best of their ability.
+
+The meal being over, his Lordship proposed a rubber of whist, a
+relaxation of which he was very fond, but which, in the reduced state of
+his family, he was seldom able to enjoy. Mrs. Mackintosh and Smith, as
+the two best players of the party, expressed themselves as willing to
+take a hand, and Miss Matilda made up the fourth.
+
+"You'll excuse me," said his Lordship apologetically to Mrs. Mackintosh,
+"if we play only for threepenny points. Were I a curate I could play for
+sixpence, but in my position the stakes are necessarily limited."
+
+"You don't ever mean to say," exclaimed the old lady, "that you're a
+gambling Bishop!"
+
+"My brother," interrupted Miss Matilda, "is a pattern of upright living
+to his day and generation. But of course if you're incapable of
+understanding the difference between a sinful wager of money and the few
+pence necessary to keep up the interest of the game--"
+
+"Gambling is gambling, to my mind," said Mrs. Mackintosh, "whether you
+play for dollars or doughnuts!"
+
+"The point seems well taken," remarked the Bishop meditatively. "It's
+certainly never struck me in that light before; but if you think--"
+
+"I think," said the old lady decidedly, "that it's lucky for you that
+there are no whales in Blanford!"
+
+Miss Matilda threw down her cards.
+
+"If I'm to be called a gambler under my own brother's roof," she said,
+"I shall refuse to play. Besides I've a headache." And she rose
+majestically from the table.
+
+"But, my dear," began the Bishop meekly, "if we cannot find a fourth
+hand--"
+
+"If Miss Banborough doesn't feel up to playing," came the sweet tones of
+Violet's voice, "I'll be delighted to take her place." And a moment
+later she was ensconced at the table.
+
+The Bishop's sister retired to a corner with the largest and most
+aggressive volume of sermons she could find, and sniffed loudly at
+intervals all the evening. And when at ten o'clock, in response to the
+summons of an impressive functionary clad in black and bearing a wand
+surmounted by a silver cross, the little party filed out to evening
+devotions in the chapel, Miss Matilda gathered her skirts around her as
+if she feared contagion.
+
+"I'm afraid of that old cat," Mrs. Mackintosh confided to Violet, when
+they had reached the haven of their apartments. "I'm sure she suspects
+us already; and if we're not careful, she'll find us out."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+IN WHICH THE ENEMY ARRIVES.
+
+
+"I say, boss," remarked the tramp, as he paused for a moment in the
+process of stuffing himself to repletion with cold game-pie, "this is a
+rum trip, and no mistake."
+
+"What's that got to do with you?" retorted Marchmont sharply,
+appropriating the remaining fragments of the pasty to his own use.
+
+The two men were seated in the shady angle of a ruined buttress, a
+portion of a stately abbey, which in pre-Norman days had flourished at a
+spot some half-dozen miles from the site of Blanford.
+
+"Well," said the tramp, "if this ain't a wild-goose chase I dunno what
+you calls it. Here you've gone an' took me away from my happy home, an'
+brought me across the ragin' Atlantic, an' dumped me in a moth-eaten
+little village where there ain't nothin' fit to drink, all because I
+happened to chum with a Bishop."
+
+"You seem to forget," said Marchmont, "that it was you who came to me,
+offering to sell your friends and their secrets for a sufficient
+remuneration."
+
+"So I did," said the tramp; "but it was revenge, that's what it
+was--revenge. I was deserted in a furrin land, with just my board-bill
+paid, and not a penny to bless myself with."
+
+"Ah," said Marchmont. "That's the reason, I suppose, why you came from
+Montreal to New York in a parlour car."
+
+The tramp sighed despondently, saying:
+
+"Now whoever told you that, boss?"
+
+"Nobody. I found the Pullman check in your coat-pocket when I was
+looking for my diamond ring, which you'd absent-mindedly placed there."
+
+"Humph!" replied the other. "There ain't no foolin' you!"
+
+"I should be a pretty poor journalist if there were," said his employer.
+"Now give me the story again, and see if you can get it straight."
+
+"Well, there ain't nothin' much to tell, 'cept I was carried off by them
+Spanish conspirators in mistake for a lady, which I in no-wise
+resembles, an' the bloke as was the head of the gang was allus called
+the Bishop, and a pretty rum Bishop he was."
+
+"Never mind about his qualifications," interrupted Marchmont shortly;
+adding to himself, "That explains his son's presence in Montreal."
+
+"Well, this Bishop," continued the tramp, "used to talk about his palace
+at Blanford; and when the party give me the go-by, I gathered from the
+porter as took their traps that they'd gone to England; and the
+elevator-boy, he heard the Bishop say to the little actress as they'd be
+as safe at the palace as they would anywhere. And then I come on to New
+York and blew it into you."
+
+"Yes," said Marchmont, "and I've given you a first-class passage to
+England, paid your board and lodging, and kept you full for the best
+part of three weeks; and what do I get out of it?"
+
+"I admit as we haven't had much results as yet," said the tramp. "But
+now things is goin' to hum. The Bishop and his whole gang's coming over
+to these very ruins to-day."
+
+"How did you find that out?" demanded the journalist.
+
+"Footman up to the palace told me. I give him a little jamboree last
+night at the 'Three Jolly Sailor-boys.'"
+
+"Yes, and had to be carried home dead-drunk. Nice one you are to keep a
+secret."
+
+"Well, I was only a-doin' me duty," said the tramp in an aggrieved tone
+of voice, "and if they don't know you're after 'em, and you should
+happen to be inspectin' the ruins at the same time as they are, you
+could get chummy with 'em without half tryin'."
+
+"I'll attend to that," said the newspaper man. "I've just had a cable
+from the _Daily Leader_ telling me to hustle if I want to get that
+position, and I've got to do something, and do it quick. But it'll never
+do for you to be seen. Once they know we're together, the game's up. I
+can't have you larking round with the servants either. You'll spoil the
+whole show. You've got to go back to Dullhampton this afternoon."
+
+"What! that little one-horse fishing-town?"
+
+"Yes, that's where you're wanted. It's the nearest port to Blanford, and
+it's where they'll try and get out of the country if they're hard
+pressed. You just stay there and keep your eyes open till you hear from
+me."
+
+The tramp growled surlily, and reluctantly prepared to obey.
+
+"Now, then," said Marchmont shortly, "get a move on. Yes, you can take
+the provender with you. It'll help to keep your mouth shut."
+
+As the tramp slouched round the corner and out of sight, his master
+stretched himself comfortably on the ground, and supporting his head on
+one arm, with his straw hat tilted over his eyes to protect them from
+the sun, he proceeded to go peacefully to sleep.
+
+Scarcely had the journalist composed himself to slumber, when the ruins
+were invaded by the party from the palace. It was now about a month
+since Cecil and his friends had arrived at Blanford, and though this
+expedition to the old abbey had been often discussed, one thing and
+another had intervened to prevent its being put into execution.
+
+After her first burst of antagonism, Miss Matilda had settled down to a
+formal hospitality which was, if anything, more disconcerting. Tybalt
+Smith alone had achieved a favourable position in her eyes, and this
+only as the result of a very considerable amount of flattery and
+attention. At first his friends were at a loss to account for his
+attitude, but as time went on it appeared that the tragedian had not
+exerted himself for nothing. "The dear Professor" frequently had his
+breakfast in bed when he was too lazy to get up, and Miss Matilda
+considered the delicate state of his health required the daily stimulus
+of a pint of champagne. He also had the exclusive use of her victoria in
+the afternoon, and even if this did necessitate an occasional attendance
+at missionary meetings and penny readings, it was after all but a fair
+return for value received. On this occasion he had begged off going to
+the picnic, and was spending a luxurious day at the palace, waited on by
+the Bishop's sister.
+
+The party, having arrived at the abbey, promptly separated to explore
+the ruins, his Lordship gallantly offering to play the part of cicerone
+to the ladies. Miss Violet, however, for reasons of her own, preferred
+seclusion and a quiet chat with Spotts to any amount of architectural
+antiquities, so her host was enabled to devote his entire time to Mrs.
+Mackintosh.
+
+"Does it strike you," remarked the Bishop, a few moments later, pausing
+in his wanderings to inspect critically a fragment of Roman brick--"does
+it strike you how absolutely peaceful this spot is?"
+
+"Well," returned Mrs. Mackintosh, "I don't know as it does. I should
+have said your palace was about as good a sample of all-round
+peacefulness as there is going."
+
+"Ha," said his Lordship, "it hadn't occurred to me."
+
+"That's just like you men. You never know when you're well off. Now with
+your palace and Jonah you ought to be content."
+
+The Bishop sighed.
+
+"Dear lady," he said, "I admit my faults. The palace I indeed possess
+temporarily, but Jonah--ah, what would Jonah be without you! If I have
+left my work once in the past month to ask your advice, I have left it a
+hundred times."
+
+"You have," admitted Mrs. Mackintosh with decision.
+
+"Then it is to you that Jonah owes his debt of gratitude, not to me. You
+have lightened my labour in more senses of the word than one."
+
+"Well, I've had a very pleasant visit. Blanford's a little paradise."
+
+The Bishop sighed again, and remarked:
+
+"Paradise I have always regarded as being peaceful."
+
+"Yes," acquiesced his companion reflectively, "with all that Jonah went
+through, I don't remember as he had an unmarried sister."
+
+There was silence for a moment, and then his Lordship abruptly changed
+the subject.
+
+"What a charming, bright, fresh young life is Miss Arminster's! She
+dances through the world like--like--er--" And he paused for a simile.
+
+"Like a grasshopper," suggested Mrs. Mackintosh, with marked disapproval
+in her tones. The Bishop had a trivial, not to say frivolous, strain in
+his nature which seemed to her hardly in accord with his exalted
+position.
+
+"No, dear lady," objected his Lordship, "not a grasshopper. Decidedly
+not a grasshopper; say--like a ray of sunshine."
+
+"Violet's a good girl," remarked his companion, "a very good girl, but
+in most things she is still a child, and the serious side of life
+doesn't appeal to her. I dare say she'd go to sleep if you read to her
+about Jonah."
+
+"She did," admitted the Bishop; "but then of course," he added, wishing
+to palliate the offence, "it was a very hot day. I suppose, however, you
+are right. Serious things do not interest her--and that is--I should
+say--we are serious."
+
+"I am," said Mrs. Mackintosh, "and at your time of life you ought to be;
+and if we stand here any longer looking at that chunk of brick in the
+broiling sun, we'll both be as red as a couple of beets."
+
+No amount of sentiment could be proof against a statement of this sort,
+and they moved on.
+
+Violet and Spotts had meantime sat themselves down on a convenient
+tombstone to while away the interval till luncheon was served.
+
+"There are lots of things I want to talk to you about, Alvy," began the
+little actress, "and I never get the chance."
+
+"Well, fire away," he replied. "You've got it now."
+
+"In the first place," she said, "I don't like the way things are going
+here."
+
+"At the palace, you mean?"
+
+"Yes. We're not aboveboard. We're shamming all the while. Besides, we're
+doing nothing in our profession."
+
+"It's better than doing time in prison."
+
+"It isn't straightforward, and I don't like it," she went on.
+
+"Neither do I," he returned; "but there are other things I like less."
+
+"Such as?"
+
+"Well, people falling in love with you, for instance."
+
+"Oh, Cecil. He received his _conge_ before we left America."
+
+"I said _people_."
+
+"You don't mean the Bishop?"
+
+Spotts nodded.
+
+"But he's such a dear funny old thing!" she cried.
+
+"What's that got to do with it?"
+
+"Why, he might be my grandfather."
+
+"He's as frisky as a two-year-old," remarked the actor.
+
+"And finally," continued Violet, not noticing the interruption, "his old
+cat of a sister wouldn't let him."
+
+"Worms have turned, and straws have broken camels' backs before now,"
+persisted Spotts.
+
+"Don't you call me names, sir! Worms and straws, indeed! What next, I
+should like to know!"
+
+"If you don't take care, you'll be called his _Lordship's_ 'leopard.'"
+
+She burst out laughing.
+
+"Nonsense!" she cried. "Why, I actually believe you're becoming
+jealous."
+
+"Not a bit of it," he said. "I'd trust you, little girl, through thick
+and thin."
+
+"I know you would, Alvy, and I'd rather marry you--well, ten times,
+before I'd marry a lord or a bishop once."
+
+"I know it, old girl, I know it!" cried Spotts ecstatically, and
+slipped his arm round her waist.
+
+"Oh, do be careful," she protested. "Just think, if any one should see
+us! I'm sure I heard a footstep behind us."
+
+They looked up, and saw Cecil above them, standing on the sill of an old
+ruined window.
+
+He had not heard their words, but he had seen Spotts's embrace, and
+realised bitterly how little chance he stood against such a combination
+of Apollo and Roscius.
+
+The month which had intervened since his return to Blanford had not been
+an altogether happy time for the Bishop's son. The pain of Miss
+Arminster's refusal still rankled within him, and that young lady's
+actions had not done much to soothe it. Had she comported herself with a
+resigned melancholy, he could have borne his own sufferings with
+fortitude. But, on the contrary, she had, he considered, flirted most
+outrageously with Mr. Spotts. Indeed Cecil was already strongly of the
+opinion that the actor was trying to succeed where he had failed--a
+course of action which he thought quite justifiable on his,
+Banborough's, part, but highly reprehensible on the part of any one
+else. Matters had now culminated. Fate had brought the three together at
+this inopportune moment, and as it was manifestly impossible not to say
+something, Cecil laid himself out to be agreeable, and Miss Arminster,
+who was naturally aware of the awkwardness of his position, did her best
+to promote conversation, while Spotts almost immediately cut the Gordian
+knot by excusing himself on the plea of looking after the lunch.
+
+"Well," she said, "what's the latest news from Spain?"
+
+"It seems to me that the war must be almost over," he replied. "Now that
+Santiago's fallen, and Cervera's fleet's destroyed, Spain has no
+alternative but to yield."
+
+"Ah," she murmured, "then we'll be free once more."
+
+"Has your exile been so irksome to you?" he asked.
+
+"Oh," she returned, "I didn't mean it that way, really. Believe me, I'm
+not ungrateful. Blanford's just sweet, and your father's an old dear."
+
+"Yes," he retorted, laughing. "I notice you're doing your best to usurp
+Mrs. Mackintosh's place in his affections."
+
+"That's not from pique, it's from charity," she replied. "I've been
+trying to rescue her from Jonah."
+
+"I'm afraid my governor must be an awful bore," he said.
+
+"Oh, but he's so sweet and simple with it all," she objected. "I'm
+really growing to be awfully fond of him."
+
+"I think he's growing to be awfully fond of _you_," said his son.
+
+Miss Arminster laughed merrily.
+
+"Don't you fancy me as a step-mamma?" she queried. "But, joking apart,
+I'm afraid even Blanford would pall on me after a while. It isn't my
+first visit here, you see. I was on a tour through these counties three
+years ago."
+
+"That's how you came to know about my father, I suppose."
+
+"Yes," she said. "I had him pointed out to me, and you look a good deal
+alike. Besides, the name's not common."
+
+"I'm glad you liked Blanford well enough to come back to it."
+
+"Oh," she returned, looking up at him with a roguish smile, "this
+section of the country has other associations for me."
+
+"I was waiting for that," he retorted. "In which of the neighbouring
+towns were you married?"
+
+"The one nearest here," she replied. "I think we can just see the spire
+of the church over the trees. But how did you know?"
+
+"I inferred it as a matter of course," he said banteringly, "but I'm
+only joking."
+
+"But I'm not," she returned.
+
+"Do you really mean that you were married over there?" he asked,
+pointing to the distant church.
+
+"Yes," she replied. "The third of June, 1895."
+
+"I say, you know," he said, "I think you might have married me once in a
+way, as I had asked you."
+
+"Mr. Banborough," she replied stiffly, drawing herself up, "you forget
+yourself."
+
+"I beg your pardon," he returned humbly. "Only as American divorce laws
+are so lax, I thought--"
+
+"The divorce laws of my country are a disgrace, and nothing would ever
+induce me to avail myself of them. Besides, marriage, to me, is a very
+serious and solemn matter, and I can't permit you to speak about it
+flippantly, even by way of a joke."
+
+Cecil picked up a handful of pebbles and began throwing them
+meditatively at the fragment of an adjacent arch. The more he saw of
+Miss Arminster, the greater mystery she became. By her own admission,
+she had been married at least half a dozen times, which, were he to
+accept as real the high moral standard which she always assumed, must
+imply a frightful mortality among her husbands. But then she neither
+seemed flippant nor shallow, and her serious attitude towards the
+sacrament of marriage appeared wholly incompatible with a matrimonial
+experience which might have caused a Mormon to shudder. Anyway, she
+wasn't going to marry him, and he turned to the discussion of more
+fruitful subjects.
+
+"How's Spotts getting on with his studies in architecture?" he asked.
+
+"I should think he'd learned a good deal," she replied. "Your father
+hasn't left a stone of his own cathedral unexplained, and I imagine
+he'll put him through his paces over this abbey."
+
+"Poor Spotts! I'm afraid he's had a hard row to hoe," said Cecil; "but,
+anyway, it'll keep him out of mischief."
+
+"You must be very careful what you say about him to me," she replied. "I
+won't hear one word against him, for we're very old friends."
+
+"So I should infer," he retorted, "from what I've just seen. _I_ never
+was allowed to put _my_ arm--"
+
+"How dare you!" she cried, rising, really angry this time. "I--" Then
+turning to the Bishop, who arrived very opportunely, she exclaimed:
+
+"Won't you rescue me, please? Your son's becoming awfully impertinent!"
+
+"Then," said his Lordship gallantly, "my son must be taught better
+manners. If he cannot show himself worthy of such a charming companion,
+we'll punish him by leaving him entirely alone."
+
+Certainly his father was coming on, thought Cecil. But if Miss Arminster
+tried to take advantage of his dotage to forge another link in her
+matrimonial chain, he, Banborough, would have a word to say on the
+subject.
+
+"I wish to tell you, my dear," began his Lordship as they walked away,
+leaving Cecil disconsolate, "of a very nice invitation I've received for
+the rest of the week. Lord Downton is to call for me in his yacht at
+Dullhampton to-morrow, and has asked me to join his party and to bring
+some lady with me to make the number even."
+
+"Oh, how jolly that'll be--for Miss Matilda!" said the artful Violet.
+
+"Humph!--ye-es," replied the Bishop. "I hardly think my sister could
+leave the palace just at this time."
+
+"Perhaps," suggested his guest, "yachting doesn't agree with her. Has
+she ever tried it before?"
+
+"She has," replied the Bishop, with a certain asperity.
+
+"Ah, poor thing!" said Miss Arminster. "It must have taken away from
+your pleasure to feel that she was suffering such great discomfort on
+your account."
+
+"Lord Downton didn't specify my sister. He only said 'some lady'; and so
+I thought if you--"
+
+"Oh, that's just sweet of you!" exclaimed his companion. "I'm sure I
+should adore yachting. It's something I've always wanted to do."
+
+"Then we'll consider it settled," said the Bishop.
+
+"But Miss Matilda?"
+
+"Ah, yes," admitted his Lordship. "That's just the trouble. You see my
+dilemma."
+
+"Of course!" Violet responded promptly, understanding that he wished to
+be helped out. "If your sister knew you were going, she'd feel it her
+duty to accompany you, and the trip would be spoilt for you by her
+sufferings. So, out of your affection for her, you think it would be
+better if we were just quietly to slip off to-morrow and send her a wire
+from Dullhampton."
+
+The Bishop was delighted. Miss Matilda never accepted him at his own
+valuation.
+
+"So, just on your account," continued his companion demurely, "I won't
+say a word, though I hate any form of concealment."
+
+"H'm--naturally," said the Bishop.
+
+"But since it's for your dear sister's sake--"
+
+"We'll take the eleven-fifty train to-morrow," replied his Lordship.
+
+And here his remarks were cut short from the fact that in suddenly
+rounding a corner he had planted his foot on the recumbent form of
+Marchmont.
+
+"Hullo!" said that gentleman, sitting up, and adding, as he rubbed his
+eyes to get them wider open, "permit me to inform you that this part of
+the ground is strictly preserved."
+
+"Who are you, sir?" demanded the Bishop.
+
+"Come," said the stranger cheerfully, "we'll make a bargain. I'll tell
+you who you are, if you'll tell me who I am."
+
+"I do not see how that is possible--" began his Lordship.
+
+"Well, I'll begin," said Marchmont. "You're the Bishop of Blanford and
+I'm your son's greatest benefactor."
+
+"Really, you surprise me. May I enquire how you've benefited him?"
+
+"I made the fame of his book, 'The Purple Kangaroo.' I've been sending
+you my editorials on the subject for some weeks past."
+
+"Are you the person who wrote those scandalous leaders which have been
+forwarded to me from America?" demanded the Bishop.
+
+"I thought you'd remember them," said the journalist. "They're
+eye-openers, aren't they?"
+
+His Lordship drew himself up and put on his most repressive manner, but
+Marchmont babbled on serenely.
+
+"The last time I saw Cecil he said to me: 'Whenever you come to England,
+Marchmont, you just drop round to the palace, and we'll make things
+hum.' So, having a chance for a little vacation, I jumped on board a
+steamer, crossed to Southampton, and biked up-country, doing these ruins
+on the way. I meant to have presented myself at the palace this
+afternoon in due form and a swallow-tailed coat, but I'm just as much
+pleased to see you as if I'd been regularly introduced."
+
+"You're one of the most consummate liars I ever knew," remarked Cecil,
+who, hearing voices, had strolled over to see what it was all about.
+
+"Put it more mildly, my dear fellow," replied the American. "Call me a
+journalist, and spare your father's feelings."
+
+"Well, now you're here, what do you intend to do?" demanded Banborough.
+
+"Do?" said Marchmont. "Why, I'm going to put up for a week at your 'Pink
+Pig,' or your 'Azure Griffin,' or whatever kind of nondescript-coloured
+animal your local hostelry boasts, and study your charming cathedral.
+But, in the first place, I think we'd better have some lunch. I'm as
+hungry as a bear."
+
+"I fear we've scarcely provided for an extra guest," returned Cecil
+frigidly. The journalist was the very last person he wanted to see at
+Blanford, and he did not take any pains to disguise the fact.
+
+Marchmont, however, was not to be snubbed, and remarking cheerfully that
+there was always enough for one more, calmly proceeded in the direction
+of the hampers. Once there, he constituted himself chef and butler
+forthwith, and moreover proved so efficient in both capacities that,
+irritated as his friend was at his self-assurance, he could not but
+express his appreciation.
+
+Marchmont, having started the rest of the people on their lunch and made
+all feel at their ease, turned on his journalistic tap for the benefit
+of the Bishop, and plied the old gentleman with such a judicious mixture
+of flattery and amusing anecdote that, by the time the repast was over,
+his Lordship was solemnly assuring his son, much to that young
+gentleman's disgust, that he was indeed fortunate in possessing such a
+delightful friend, and that he might invite Mr. Marchmont to the palace
+if he liked.
+
+"Quite so," said Cecil. "I suppose you remember his article in the
+_Daily Leader_, in which he alluded to you as a 'consecrated fossil'?"
+
+"H'm!" said the Bishop. "Really, the accommodation at the inn is very
+good, and perhaps, with so many guests, it would be asking too much of
+your aunt."
+
+"What does all this mean?" asked Spotts of Banborough when a convenient
+opportunity offered.
+
+The Bishop's son shrugged his shoulders, replying:
+
+"It means mischief."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+IN WHICH PEACE IS PROPOSED AND WAR DECLARED.
+
+
+Marchmont stood on the lawn before the palace, on the morning after his
+arrival, critically inspecting that structure; his feet stretched wide
+apart, his hands in his pockets, and his hat on the back of his head.
+
+Cecil, emerging from breakfast, sighted his enemy and made haste to join
+him.
+
+"Jolly old rookery you've got," remarked the reporter.
+
+"Yes," said Banborough. "It was a monastery originally. They turned it
+into a bishop's palace about the reign of Henry VIII."
+
+"I know that style," said the American. "Nice rambling ark, two stories
+high, and no two rooms on the same level. Architect built right out into
+the country till he got tired, and then turned round and came back.
+Obliged to have a valet to show you to your room whether you're sober or
+not."
+
+"I didn't know," said Cecil drily, "that you possessed an extensive
+acquaintance in ecclesiastical circles in this country."
+
+"Oh, yes," said Marchmont, "I served as valet for six months to a bishop
+while I was gathering materials for my articles on 'English Sees Seen
+from the Inside.'"
+
+"Was it a financial success?" queried Banborough.
+
+"No," admitted the reporter regretfully, "it sold the paper splendidly,
+but was stopped at the second article at the request of the American
+ambassador."
+
+"Did you favour us with a visit?"
+
+"I hadn't that honour."
+
+"If you had done so you would probably have slept in the rooms we give
+to our American guests in the new part of the house."
+
+"How old is that?" queried the journalist.
+
+"About eight hundred years," replied Cecil, "and the walls are four feet
+thick."
+
+"I know," said the reporter, "It's appalling. That sort of thing always
+upsets me. It seems so out of keeping with the _Daily Leader_."
+
+"Look here, Marchmont, why have you come to Blanford?" demanded
+Banborough, abruptly changing the conversation.
+
+"To have the joy of your society," returned the journalist.
+
+"If that were really the case I'd be delighted to see you," said the
+Englishman. "But you're on the track of these unfortunate people who are
+my guests; and if you make things disagreeable for them I shan't have
+the slightest compunction in forbidding you the house."
+
+The American, apparently ignoring the other's frankness, remarked:
+
+"So you admit they're conspirators?"
+
+"I admit nothing of the kind. They're perfectly innocent of the charge
+you bring against them, and you've been making an awful ass of yourself,
+if you only knew it."
+
+"Ah, thank you. But if this is the case why didn't you mention the fact
+to me in Montreal?"
+
+"I had my reasons."
+
+"And why are all these people received as honoured guests in your
+father's palace?"
+
+"That, if you'll permit me to say so, Marchmont, is a matter that
+doesn't concern you."
+
+"Everything concerns me. Not that I expect you to see that point of
+view. But to put it another way. Considering all I've done to increase
+the sale of your book, won't you do me a good turn and tell me what you
+know about this affair?"
+
+"I wish the confounded book had never sold a copy!" burst out
+Banborough. "And I'll not say one word to the detriment of my friends!"
+
+"Then it _is_ to be war?" queried the journalist, rolling a cigarette.
+
+"Not so far as I'm concerned," replied his host. "Why don't you let
+bygones be bygones? A truce between the United States and Spain may be
+declared any day, and then--"
+
+"Then my great scoop will be lost for ever. What would the public care
+about conspirators if there were no war?"
+
+"Exactly what I say," said Cecil. "So let's drop the whole matter."
+
+"Not much!" cried the journalist. "It's my last chance. And if you won't
+help me--why, I must help myself."
+
+"What do you wish me to do?"
+
+"Turn 'em out of Blanford."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"But your father?"
+
+"How dare you mention my father's name in this connection? I won't have
+him dragged into publicity to sell your dirty rag of a newspaper!" Cecil
+exploded, thoroughly beside himself at the thought of such a dreadful
+possibility.
+
+The journalist nodded his head gravely. Banborough's fierce defence of
+the Bishop he attributed to far other grounds than those on which it was
+really based. It justified him to the tramp's suspicions that his
+Lordship was actually connected with the plot.
+
+"Well," he said, with a fair pretence of backing down, "there's no need
+of getting so hot about it. Of course I don't want to make myself
+disagreeable."
+
+"Neither do I," replied his host. "Only we may as well understand each
+other. You're quite welcome to come to the palace as long as you
+remember to be a gentleman before you are a journalist. But if you
+forget it, I'll be forced to treat you as you deserve," and turning on
+his heel, he left Marchmont chewing the ends of his sandy moustache with
+a grim avidity that boded ill for the peace of the Bishop and his
+household.
+
+The American told himself that he must work carefully. Banborough would
+watch him and probably put the others on their guard. And moreover, he
+would not hesitate to dismiss him from the palace, which, apart from the
+unpleasantness of the operation, would be well-nigh fatal to the success
+of the scheme the journalist was maturing. Decidedly the highest caution
+was essential, but he must work quickly, for there was no time to be
+lost. Marchmont therefore proceeded to pump the first member of the
+company he came across. This happened to be Spotts, who was in rather a
+bad humour, the result of a morning spent with the Bishop in the
+cobwebby heights of a neighbouring church-tower.
+
+"You're the very person I wanted to see," cried the reporter.
+
+"I'm afraid I've hardly time to be interviewed just now," replied the
+actor shortly.
+
+"Oh, this isn't professional. I'm off duty sometimes. I'm only human."
+
+"Oh, are you? I supposed newspaper men were neither the one nor the
+other."
+
+"Well, I wanted to talk to you for your own good."
+
+"Is it as bad as all that?"
+
+"Of course I know who you really are," pursued the journalist, ignoring
+the interruption. "And I may say confidentially that you and Miss
+Arminster are not the people of this party I'm after."
+
+"Ah, that's very thoughtful of you."
+
+"So, if I could help you two to slip off quietly--"
+
+"Why include Miss Arminster?" queried Spotts with well-affected
+surprise.
+
+"Why? My dear fellow, you don't suppose I'm quite blind. Any one who
+follows that lady about with his eyes as you do is naturally-- Well--you
+understand--"
+
+"I'm afraid your professional acumen is at fault this time," said the
+actor, and added: "I hope I may never come any nearer being married than
+I am now."
+
+"Oh, I say," returned Marchmont; "don't you aspire to be her--sixteenth,
+is it?"
+
+"You're alluding to Miss Arminster's husbands?" asked Spotts drily.
+
+"Oh, I'd a little bet up with a friend," said Marchmont, "that she'd
+been married at least a baker's dozen times. Ought I to hedge?"
+
+"I think you're well inside the number," replied the actor.
+
+"Gad! she must be pretty well acquainted with the divorce courts!"
+exclaimed the reporter.
+
+"I'm quite sure she's never been divorced in her life," returned Spotts.
+"So long. I'm after a drink." And he left him, thus terminating the
+conversation.
+
+"Ah," said the journalist to himself, "I bet you're the next in line,
+just the same."
+
+Baffled in his first attempt, Marchmont sought other means of
+information, for there is always a weak spot in every defence, and a man
+of far less keen perception than the reporter would have had little
+difficulty in finding the most favourable point of attack. So it is not
+surprising that after a little cogitation he went in search of Miss
+Matilda, whom he had met the day before when he had returned with the
+party from the abbey. He found that lady on the lawn knitting socks for
+the heathen, and deserted for the nonce by the faithful Smith.
+
+"Dear Miss Banborough," began the journalist, sitting down beside her,
+"what a reproach it is to idle men like myself to see such industry!"
+
+"It's very kind of you, I'm sure, to notice my humble labours," replied
+the old lady, expanding at once under the first word of flattery. "My
+brother tells me you're connected with a great newspaper. How ennobling
+that must be! It gives you such a wide scope for doing good."
+
+Marchmont, who had hardly adopted journalism for this purpose, and was
+conscious of having done his fair share of mischief in the world, made a
+desperate effort to look the part assigned to him, and murmuring
+something about the inspiration, to toilers like himself, of such
+self-sacrificing lives as hers, abruptly turned the conversation by
+alluding to the pleasure which she must have felt at her nephew's
+return.
+
+"Of course we're very glad to have him back," acceded Miss Matilda. "But
+then we see little or nothing of him."
+
+"Naturally," said the journalist, "his days must be given up to his
+friends. How you must be looking forward to the time when you can have
+him quite to yourself!"
+
+The gleam that came into the old lady's eye at this remark told him
+that he had not been mistaken in fancying her hostile to the strangers,
+and he hastened to continue such a fruitful theme, saying:
+
+"I suppose that, as they've been here a month now, you'll be losing them
+soon."
+
+"I can't say," she snapped. "They seem to be staying for an indefinite
+period."
+
+"Really?" he replied. "I shouldn't have fancied that your nephew would
+have found them very congenial. Indeed, if you'll pardon my frankness, I
+was rather surprised to meet them here."
+
+Miss Matilda at once gave him her undivided attention.
+
+"You knew them in America?" she asked.
+
+"Of course I knew about them. I was hardly acquainted personally."
+
+It was his tone rather than his words that lent an unfavourable colour
+to the remark, but the implication was not lost on the Bishop's sister.
+Here at last was a man who could give her the information she was most
+anxious to obtain.
+
+"I should have supposed," she ventured, "that you'd have known such very
+intimate friends of Cecil's as these appear to be."
+
+"Oh, no," he returned. "New York's a big place. I dare say you know much
+more about them than I do."
+
+"I know nothing!" she burst out. "Strange as it may appear to you, my
+nephew has never told me one word concerning his guests, though I'm
+expected to receive them under my--his father's roof and introduce them
+to my friends."
+
+"I see," replied Marchmont cautiously. "Cecil should have trusted to
+your excellent discrimination and judgment, unless--" and here he
+paused.
+
+The position required consideration. It was easy enough to tell her
+about these people. Merely to say that they were an itinerant company of
+actors and actresses would be sufficient to ensure them a speedy _conge_
+from Blanford. But was it wise to do this? Did he want them to go? A
+hasty action is often like a boomerang. It returns on the toes of the
+person who thoughtlessly launches it in flight. No, on the whole they
+had better remain, he told himself. The palace would form an excellent
+background for the sensational exposure he hoped to make. If he could
+only get the Bishop into a corner, he would be quite satisfied.
+
+"Well, what?" she demanded sharply, impatient at his unfinished
+sentence.
+
+"Unless," he continued, hedging carefully--"unless your nephew felt that
+it was quite sufficient to have explained things to his father.
+Doubtless the Bishop knows all about his son's friends."
+
+"The Bishop knows a great deal too much for a man in his position,"
+snapped his sister.
+
+"Quite so," thought the journalist, "and doesn't confide it to you."
+Aloud he remarked:
+
+"Of course there's nothing particular to be said against them, except
+that they're hardly in Cecil's set."
+
+"I didn't need you to tell me that. But what about the ladies?"
+
+"Ah, yes, the ladies. Well, really, you've put me in an awkward
+position, Miss Banborough. One can't be uncomplimentary to the fair sex,
+you know."
+
+"Humph! Well, Josephus sees more of both of them than is good for him.
+But of course Mrs. Mackintosh has neither the youth nor the good looks
+to cause me any anxiety."
+
+"Mrs. Mackintosh is eminently respectable," said Marchmont, who always
+spoke the truth when it did not conflict with business.
+
+"But Miss Arminster?"
+
+The journalist did not answer.
+
+"Well," she cried, "why don't you speak?"
+
+"Madam," he replied, "you place me in a most embarrassing situation. My
+duty to you and the natural gallantry of my nature draw me in different
+directions."
+
+"I insist."
+
+"I put myself in your hands. In saying what I do I'm laying myself open
+to serious misconstruction."
+
+"You may rely upon my silence."
+
+"Any indiscretion on your part would be most unfortunate."
+
+"I shall not forget the confidence you've reposed in me."
+
+"I shall hold you to that," he said. "If I tell you what I have in mind,
+will you promise not to use the information without my permission?"
+
+"That I cannot say."
+
+"Then I say nothing."
+
+"But you've already implied--"
+
+"But implications, my dear Miss Banborough, are not evidence."
+
+"You leave me no other course but to accede to your request," she said.
+
+"Ah, then you promise?"
+
+"I promise."
+
+"The word of a woman in your position and of your high moral standard I
+know is sacred."
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Well, then," he continued, "please answer me this question. Where was
+your brother the first week in May?"
+
+"In Scotland."
+
+"Why did he go?"
+
+"For absolute rest. He was worried and run down."
+
+"You heard from him frequently?"
+
+"No, not once during the whole time. Sir Joseph Westmoreland, the great
+London nerve specialist, who advised the change, even prohibited
+correspondence."
+
+"You're sure he was in Scotland?"
+
+"Really, Mr. Marchmont, why do you ask?"
+
+"Because I saw the Bishop of Blanford in the United States in the first
+week of May on his way to Montreal, Canada."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"I'm certain of it."
+
+"I cannot credit what you tell me!"
+
+"What I tell you is quite true. You say he was absent for a month. Might
+he not have gone to the States and returned in that time?"
+
+His sister nodded. Then, as a sudden thought occurred to her, she
+flushed red with anger, exclaiming:
+
+"And this girl, this Miss Arminster! Was she in Montreal also?"
+
+"She was," replied Marchmont. "I saw her."
+
+"The hussy!" cried Miss Matilda, rising. "She shan't remain in my house
+another hour!"
+
+"Hold on!" he exclaimed. "You forget your promise!"
+
+"But after what you've said!"
+
+"I haven't said anything. Miss Arminster's being in Montreal might have
+been merely a coincidence."
+
+"But do you know something about her?"
+
+"I've investigated her career," he replied, "and have found nothing
+objectionable in it, beyond the fact that she's rather fond of getting
+married."
+
+"Getting married! But surely she calls herself _Miss_ Arminster?"
+
+"Ah, yes; but that's very common on the--I mean, not unusual in such
+cases."
+
+"She has been married, then, more than once?"
+
+"I know of a dozen different occasions on which she has had the service
+performed."
+
+"Infamous!"
+
+"Oh, no. There's no evidence of her ever having been through the divorce
+court. Indeed, she may never have been married to more than one man at
+the same time."
+
+"But how to account--"
+
+"For the mortality in husbands? Well, fortunately, we're not required to
+do that."
+
+"I will not have my dear brother stricken down in his prime!" gasped
+Miss Matilda.
+
+"Oh, I don't suppose she's necessarily fatal. Still, as mistress of
+Blanford--"
+
+The Bishop's sister arose in her wrath. For the first time in her
+existence she wanted to swear, but contented herself by remarking:
+
+"That young woman leaves the palace to-day!"
+
+"You forget your promise to me," he said.
+
+"But is it possible, in the face of what you've told me, that you can
+hold me to it?"
+
+"Quite possible. In fact I mean to do so, and as soon as your righteous
+indignation cools down a bit you'll realise that we've nothing
+whatsoever to go on. What I've said could only be substantiated by
+evidence requiring some time to obtain. If you accused her now, she'd
+merely deny my statement, and her word's as good as mine, and probably
+better, in his Lordship's estimation."
+
+"But is there no proof near at hand?"
+
+"Yes. She was married several years ago at a little church close by the
+ruined abbey where I first met your party, and the fact is recorded in
+the register."
+
+"Then surely--"
+
+"There's no crime in being married once," he objected.
+
+"But what _can_ we do?" she asked.
+
+"Keep quiet for a little while longer. Miss Arminster's certain to make
+some slip, and then--"
+
+"It seems very difficult to wait."
+
+"Believe me," he replied, "it's the only way, and I shall rely on your
+promise."
+
+Saying which, he left her, partly because he had obtained all the
+information he wished, and partly because he was certain that he espied
+the well-known figure of the tramp hovering behind the bushes on the
+opposite side of the lawn.
+
+A few moments later he had his hand on that individual's collar, and was
+demanding sternly what he meant by coming to Blanford against his
+orders.
+
+"'Cause I've somethin' of importance to tell yer," retorted that worthy.
+
+"Well, out with it, quick!" said the journalist. "It's got to be pretty
+important to excuse your disobedience."
+
+"It is. The boss is going to bolt."
+
+"Who? The Bishop?"
+
+"That's it! Him and the lady."
+
+"What lady?"
+
+"The young 'un, I guess."
+
+"What's all this stuff about?" demanded Marchmont.
+
+"It ain't stuff, as you'll soon see," replied the tramp in an aggrieved
+tone. "There was a yacht come into Dullhampton last night, a
+nasty-lookin' boat and a quick steamer. The second mate and me, we got
+to know each other up to the inn--he's a furriner, he is--a Don, more'n
+likely. But he let on, havin' had some drink, as how he'd been sent
+there with the yacht to wait for the Bishop o' Blanford and a lady as
+was comin' down next day, and the Bishop was to give the sailin'
+orders."
+
+"Humph! What more?"
+
+"This mornin' I seed 'em lookin' over a lot of flags on the deck of the
+yacht, and one of 'em was Spanish."
+
+"So you came all the way up here to tell me this cock-and-bull story!"
+
+"Not till I'd squared the crew."
+
+"Squared the crew?"
+
+"I let on to 'em as how they'd been shipped under false orders to carry
+two Spanish spies out of the country, an' how we was on to the fact, and
+if they'd stay by us they'd not be held responsible; and I promised 'em
+ten shillin's apiece and give 'em all the drink they wanted, and they're
+ours to a man."
+
+"And that's where you've wasted good money and good liquor. I tell you
+what you say is impossible. If the Bishop had had any idea of a move
+like that, I'd have got wind of it. Besides, his old cat of a sister
+would never let him leave Blanford again without her."
+
+"Hist!" said the tramp, pointing across the lawn. "Look there, what did
+I say? My eyesight ain't what it was, from breakin' stones up to Sing
+Sing, and I can't see no faces at this distance, but there's somethin'
+sneakin' along there, in bishop's togs."
+
+Marchmont followed the direction he indicated, and saw two figures
+stealing round the corner of the palace, carrying hand-bags and showing
+every sign of watchfulness and suspicion. Having ascertained that the
+lawn was clear, they slipped rapidly across it, and, putting themselves
+in the protecting shade of a clump of bushes, turned into the high-road
+and disappeared. It had needed no second glance to identify them as his
+Lordship and Miss Arminster.
+
+"By Jove!" gasped the journalist. "It is true, then! This will be a
+scoop of scoops! Come, we've got to run for it. We must take the same
+train, and they mustn't see us."
+
+Some one else had witnessed the departure, in spite of all the
+precautions of the fugitives, and that person was Miss Matilda, who,
+from the vantage of an upper window, caught a glimpse of them just as
+they disappeared through the gate. Unwilling at first to believe her
+senses, she rushed to her brother's room and then to Miss Arminster's.
+Alas! in each apartment the traces of hasty packing and missing
+hand-luggage gave damning evidence of the fact. She rushed downstairs,
+bursting with her dreadful intelligence. In the hall she met Cecil,
+delightedly waving a telegram in his hand.
+
+"Hurrah! Aunt Matilda!" he shouted. "Such news! 'The Purple Kangaroo'
+has reached its twentieth edition, and a truce is declared between the
+United States and Spain! Where are the others? I must tell them that the
+war is over."
+
+"Bother your war!" exclaimed his aunt. "Do you know that your father and
+that shameless minx, Miss Arminster, have just eloped?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+IN WHICH THE BISHOP IS ABDUCTED.
+
+
+All the way from Blanford to Dullhampton the Bishop was in the best of
+spirits, much on the principle of a naughty boy who, having played
+truant, means to enjoy his holiday to the full, well knowing that he
+will be caned when it is over. Indeed his Lordship became positively
+skittish, and Miss Arminster was obliged to squelch him a little, as
+that young lady, for excellent reasons of her own, had no more intention
+of becoming the mistress of Blanford than she had of wedding the author
+of "The Purple Kangaroo." On the other hand, she realised that it was
+one of the old gentleman's very rare treats, and she wanted him to have
+as good a time as possible; besides which, she had always longed to take
+a cruise on a steam-yacht, and now her ambition was about to be
+gratified.
+
+The shock of disappointment was therefore all the greater when, on their
+arrival at Dullhampton, they were met by the captain, who informed them
+that Lord Downton had had a bad fall the day before and seriously
+sprained his ankle, so that the party had been given up. He had sent the
+yacht on, however, with the request that the Bishop would consider it at
+his disposal for the remainder of the week.
+
+"Now that's exceedingly awkward," said his Lordship. "I fear we can
+hardly go yachting without a chaperon."
+
+"Most certainly not," agreed Miss Arminster. "But let's take a little
+sail this afternoon, and return to Blanford in time for dinner."
+
+"That's very well thought of," said the Bishop, "and to-morrow we can
+bring down some more of our party. It seems a pity we shouldn't use the
+yacht, now we're here. Does that arrangement meet with your approval,
+captain?"
+
+"Well, your Lordship," replied the captain, "to be honest with you, I
+hadn't expected as how you'd be able to get away to-day, so I'd
+arranged to see my sister, who lives here, this afternoon, and the first
+mate's gone up to town to order some stores. But if you are only to be
+out for a few hours, as you say, my second mate's quite capable of
+taking the boat for you. I wouldn't like to trust him on a long cruise,
+for he's only joined a few weeks, and I know nothing about his
+character. He is a first-class navigator, however, and for an afternoon
+in the Solent he'll do you very well."
+
+"I'm sure we would not want to interfere with your plans, captain," said
+his Lordship, "so if Miss Arminster agrees--"
+
+"Oh my, yes," acquiesced Violet. "I don't care who takes the yacht out,
+so long as we go."
+
+"Right you are," said the captain. "Steam's up, and I've ordered lunch
+on board, as I thought you'd want that anyway. I'll tell Funk, the
+second mate, to run out into the Solent, and then you can give your own
+orders. What time will you be back?"
+
+"Oh, not later than six," replied the Bishop, as they stepped on board
+Lord Downton's beautiful craft, the "Homing Pigeon."
+
+She was a large boat and thoroughly seaworthy. Indeed her owner had made
+a voyage in her to the Mediterranean, but she was built for speed also,
+and decidedly rakish in cut.
+
+They were at once introduced to the second mate, and Miss Arminster
+thought she had seldom seen a more unprepossessing individual. He was
+surly and shifty-eyed, and she confided to the Bishop, when they were
+alone, that she was glad they were not going far from land under that
+man's charge, for he looked like a pirate.
+
+After glancing round the deck, which seemed charmingly arranged, they at
+once descended to the cabin for lunch, for their little journey had made
+them hungry. Here the captain left them with a few courteous words of
+excuse. A moment later, as he was leaving the ship, he met two strangers
+coming on board, laden with hand-baggage. They were, though unknown to
+him, the journalist and the tramp. On asking them sharply what their
+business was, Marchmont replied very glibly that he was his Lordship's
+valet, and that he had hired this man to bring down the luggage from the
+station.
+
+"I don't think your master'll need his traps, as he's only going out for
+the afternoon," said the captain. "But you'd better take them down to
+the cabin, and see the porter gets off before they start. I don't allow
+strangers aboard."
+
+The valet touched his hat respectfully, and went up the gangway,
+followed by the obsequious porter. A moment later they reached the deck,
+and no sooner had the captain disappeared round a corner than both men
+approached the second mate, with whom they had a hurried and earnest
+conversation, followed by an interchange of something which that officer
+transferred to his trousers-pocket and jingled appreciatively.
+
+The ropes were now cast off, and they got under way, while Marchmont
+stole very quietly to the door of the hatchway which led down to the
+saloon where the Bishop and the actress were unsuspectingly lunching,
+and softly turned the key.
+
+"Mayn't I cut you a slice of this cold ham, my dear?" asked the Bishop
+in his most fatherly tones.
+
+"Not while the pigeon-pie lasts," said his fair companion. "But you may
+give me a glass of champagne, if you will. I see some going to waste in
+an ice-cooler over there in the corner."
+
+"I was hoping the steward would come," ventured his Lordship.
+
+"Well, I hope he won't. Being tete-a-tete is much more fun, don't you
+think? Give the bottle to me, and I'll show you how to open it and not
+spill a drop. In some respects your education's been neglected."
+
+"I'm afraid it has," admitted the Bishop, assisting her with his
+pen-knife.
+
+His Lordship felt recklessly jovial. To lunch alone with a young lady
+who opened champagne with a dexterity that bespoke considerable
+practice must be very wicked, he felt certain, and he was shocked to
+realise that he didn't care if it was. His years of repression were
+beginning to find their outlet in a natural reaction.
+
+"Here, have a glass of champagne, and don't think about your
+shortcomings," she said.
+
+"That's very nice," he replied, just tasting it.
+
+"Nonsense!" she cried. "No heel-taps. I'm no end thirsty."
+
+"So am I," replied his Lordship, draining his glass contentedly, and
+watching her fill it up again.
+
+"What are you so pensive about?" she demanded. "There's another bottle."
+
+He had been thinking that his sister always confined him to two glasses,
+but he didn't say so, and under her skilful lead he was soon describing
+to her a Cowes regatta he had once seen, in which she professed to be
+amazingly interested.
+
+"I tell you what it is," she remarked a little later on. "If I had a
+gorgeous palace like yours I'd have no end of a good time."
+
+"Ah," said the Bishop, who was helping her to unfasten the second bottle
+of champagne, "I never thought of it in that light."
+
+"No," returned his fair companion, "I suppose not. But you're losing
+lots of fun in life, and it does seem a shame, when you would so enjoy
+it."
+
+"It does," said the Bishop, sampling the fresh bottle. "But then, you
+see, there's my sister, Miss Matilda--"
+
+"Rats!"
+
+"Excuse me, I didn't catch your meaning."
+
+"Never mind my meaning. We're talking about your sister. She's a most
+estimable woman, my dear Bish-- Oh, pshaw! I can't always call you by
+your title."
+
+"Call me Josephus," he said.
+
+"No, I couldn't call you that, either. It's too dreadful. I'll call you
+Joe."
+
+The Bishop beamed with joy.
+
+"And I," he faltered, "may I call you Violet?"
+
+"No," she said, "I don't think it's proper in a man of your position."
+
+"But if you call me--Joe--"
+
+"Well!" she cried, laughing, "we'll make a compromise. Suppose you call
+me 'the Leopard'?"
+
+"To be sure," he said. "Mrs. Mackintosh spoke of you as
+that--er--quadruped. But what does it mean?"
+
+"You want to know a great deal too much for a man of your age. It's an
+animal that is more than once mentioned in Scripture, and that ought to
+be sufficient for your purposes. So we'll have it understood that his
+Lordship's Leopard is quite at his Lordship's service, if his Lordship
+doesn't mind."
+
+"Mind!" he cried ecstatically, eyeing the other side of the table. But
+Miss Violet intended to have the board between them.
+
+"Take another glass of champagne, and keep quiet," she said sternly.
+"We're talking about your estimable but impossible sister. My dear Joe,
+you'll never have any sport till you've got rid of her."
+
+"But how shall I get rid of her?" he asked despondently. Even champagne
+was not proof against the depression induced by such an appalling
+thought.
+
+"Oh, send her to a course of mud-baths or a water-cure!"
+
+"I might try it--if--if you'd help me--if you'd take her place at the
+palace. I mean--"
+
+"Josephus!" she called, in such an exact imitation of his sister's tone
+that it made him sit right up. "Josephus! don't say another word! I know
+what you mean--and you're an old dear--and I'm not going to let you make
+a fool of yourself. You're aged enough to be my father, and if your son
+had had his way you would have been my father-in-law. I want to have a
+good time, and I want you to have a good time; but that isn't the proper
+manner in which to set about it. No, you send the old lady packing, for
+the good of her health, and Mrs. Mackintosh and I'll help you and Cecil
+entertain, and we'll have a dance, and a marquee, and lots of punch. I
+dare say you've never been to a dance in your life," she rattled on,
+not giving him a chance to blunder out excuses.
+
+"I'm not such an old fogey as you think me," he began. "But I want to
+say--er--Miss--Leopard--"
+
+"Oh, no, you don't," she interrupted. "You want to forget what you've
+said, and so do I. We must talk about something else. What were you
+saying about a dance?"
+
+"No, no, not a dance," he replied, resigning himself to his fate. "But
+once," lowering his voice, "not long ago either, when I was in town,
+I--I'm sure you won't believe it-- I went to a theatre." This last
+triumphantly.
+
+"Oh, you sad dog!" she cried. "You didn't!"
+
+He nodded his head affirmatively.
+
+"And what was the piece?"
+
+"'The Sign of the Cross.'"
+
+"What, that gruesome show, where every one's slaughtered or chewed up by
+lions! You ought to have gone to the Empire."
+
+"It wasn't far from Leicester Square," he said deprecatingly.
+
+"Not near enough to be very wicked," she retorted. "But, say, I'll tell
+you something if you'll promise never, never to reveal it."
+
+"The word of a bishop--" he began.
+
+"Oh, nonsense! You're not a bishop at present, you're just Joe. Well,
+here it is: I'm an actress!"
+
+"You--are--an--actress!"
+
+"Fact! I'm quite harmless. If you keep six feet from me there's not the
+slightest danger of contamination."
+
+Then, seeing his look of astonished bewilderment, she burst into a peal
+of ringing laughter, crying:
+
+"Why, to look at you, one would think I'd told you that I was a Gorgon!"
+
+"No, no," he said, stammering. "I--I'm delighted. I always really wanted
+to meet an actress--but--er--I hardly know what to say--"
+
+"Don't say anything. Just be your dear unsophisticated self, or you'll
+be a bore. Cecil didn't dare tell you who I was, for fear you'd be
+shocked. Come on, let's go up on deck. It's close down here."
+
+"It is," admitted his Lordship, whose temperature had risen with his
+consumption of champagne, and added:
+
+"We should be well out by this time, for we seem to have been going at
+great speed."
+
+"Isn't it glorious!" she cried. "I wonder what they're doing at
+Blanford. I guess your telegram was an eye-opener."
+
+"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the Bishop, fishing a form out of his pocket.
+"I forgot to send it."
+
+"What, do you mean to say they don't know what's become of us?"
+
+"I never said a word."
+
+"My hat!" she cried. "Won't you get a wigging to-night?"
+
+Then, seeing his evident discomfiture, she added:
+
+"Never mind, I'll take it with you; and if she turns nasty we'll put a
+flea in her ear about those mud-baths. Come, let's have our fun,
+anyway." And she put her hand on the cabin door.
+
+"Why, it's stuck!" she exclaimed. "I can't open it."
+
+The Bishop grasped the handle.
+
+"It isn't stuck!" he cried, shaking it. "It's locked!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+While events had been progressing in the cabin, others of no less
+importance were taking place on deck. Once they were well off the land,
+Funk lost no time in calling a meeting of the crew of the yacht, who
+formed a circle around him.
+
+"Now, my hearties," he said, introducing Marchmont, "this gentleman's
+got a word to say to you which it's worth your while to hear." And he
+put him in the centre of the ring.
+
+"Mates," began the journalist, fitting his speech to the audience he was
+addressing, "I'm a plain man of few words, and I've come to you about a
+plain matter. Mr. Funk will tell you I'm speaking the truth; and you
+know this gentleman," indicating the tramp.
+
+The crowd growled gutturally. They appreciated the tramp's generous
+offers of liquor, but not his society.
+
+"Well," continued Marchmont, ignoring the unfavourable tone, "I suppose
+you'd all like to see the Yankees lick the Dons."
+
+"Ay, ay, you're right there," muttered a burly tar.
+
+"Good for you! We're all of the same family, and blood's thicker than
+water. Of course you want the boys in blue to win; and that being the
+case, I rely on you to help me, like true British tars, the nation's
+bulwarks--!"
+
+"Hear, hear!" growled the crowd appreciatively.
+
+"Now do you know whom you've aboard to-day?" demanded the American.
+
+"The Bishop o' Blanford, and a laidy," came the tones of a voice whose
+owner evidently hailed from London.
+
+"No, you haven't," cried the journalist excitedly. "No, you haven't!
+You've got two low-down Spanish spies!"
+
+"What d'ye say, mate?" demanded the first speaker among the crew.
+
+"I'm telling you the truth," vociferated Marchmont, lying boldly; for he
+feared that the Bishop's conspiracies would go for nothing if they
+suspected he was really a churchman.
+
+"I'm telling you the truth," he repeated. "And these two gentlemen,"
+referring to the mate and the tramp, "will back me up. That man's no
+more the Bishop of Blanford than you are! And the _lady_--well, she's on
+the stage when she isn't in the pay of the Spanish Government. I've
+tracked them from the States to Canada, where I saw them both a month
+ago, and then to England. I don't say how they got hold of this yacht,
+but I ask you, where's the captain and the first mate?"
+
+A growl of suspicion rewarded his efforts.
+
+"They took pretty good care to get out of the way, and leave Mr. Funk
+and you to bear the brunt of any breach of neutrality that these
+conspirators might let you in for."
+
+The sailors began to whisper to one another, and were evidently uneasy.
+
+"Then look at the captain's parting words!" cried the journalist. "'Go
+out into the Solent,' says he, 'and the _Bishop_ will give you your
+sailing orders,' Sailing orders, indeed! What would a parson know about
+sailing a vessel of this sort?"
+
+One of the men nudged another at this, and he of the gruff voice gave it
+as his opinion that "there was summat in it."
+
+"I'll tell you what the sailing orders will be," shouted Marchmont.
+"They'll take you round the Needles, and alongside of a Spanish cruiser.
+And when you get ashore, you'll all be clapped into prison for helping
+the Dons."
+
+"Let's take 'em back now," came a chorus of voices.
+
+"And let 'em go scot-free?" demanded Marchmont.
+
+"Well, what would _you_ do?" asked the spokesman.
+
+"I?" said the journalist. "I'd hand 'em over to the first American ship
+we sight, and send 'em to New York. That takes the burden off _your_
+shoulders. My man has promised you ten shillings apiece. Put 'em on
+board a Yankee ship, and I'll make it a pound." And he brought up a
+handful of gold from his pocket, and jingled it in their faces.
+
+It has been said that money talks, and it undoubtedly did so in this
+case. Marchmont's specious arguments sounded plausible enough, and the
+mate, who was a thoroughly bad lot and had plenty of the journalist's
+money in his pocket, backed him up in every particular. So the crew,
+after a little discussion, accepted the proposition to a man, and the
+fact that the Bishop chose this unfortunate time to make an attack on
+the cabin door probably helped to decide them.
+
+"You see," cried the journalist, as it rattled on its hinges, "they're
+trying to break out now, and are probably armed to the teeth."
+
+"We're with you, mates. The Yankees shall have 'em!" shouted the crowd.
+
+"Good!" he replied. "I'll see if I can induce them to surrender
+quietly." And going to the cabin door, he unlocked it and entered,
+closing it behind him.
+
+"Who has dared to lock us in in this unwarrantable manner?" spluttered
+the Bishop, as the door opened. Then, seeing who it was, he fell back a
+step, exclaiming:
+
+"Why, Mr. Marchmont, how did you come on board?"
+
+"Never mind about that," said the journalist shortly. "I'm here, and I
+locked you in; and when I tell you that I'm thoroughly on to the whole
+show, you'll understand that this high-and-mighty business doesn't go
+down. Got any champagne left? I'm as dry as a bone."
+
+The Bishop was rapidly turning purple with suppressed indignation, but
+Miss Arminster scornfully indicated the location of the wine-cooler.
+
+"Ah, thanks," said the intruder, tossing off a glass. "That's better."
+And he threw himself comfortably down on a divan, saying, as he did so:
+
+"If you two have any weapons, you might as well put them on the table.
+Resistance is quite useless. I've plenty of men awaiting my signal on
+deck."
+
+Violet, who in the light of this last remark suddenly understood the
+position, burst into peals of laughter.
+
+"You'll find it's no laughing matter," cried the journalist angrily.
+
+"I insist upon your instantly explaining your outrageous conduct," said
+the Bishop.
+
+"I can do that in a very few words," replied Marchmont. "As an American
+representative, and authorised agent of the _Daily Leader_, the people's
+bulwark of defence, I arrest you both as Spanish spies."
+
+"He must be mad!" ejaculated his Lordship.
+
+"Oh, no, he isn't. He actually believes it!" cried Violet between her
+paroxysms of merriment. But her companion would not be convinced.
+
+"My dear man," he said blandly, "you must be suffering under some
+grievous delusion. I am, as you should know, having been my guest, the
+Bishop of Blanford, and it is quite impossible that either I or this
+lady should have any connection with a political crime. I must insist
+that you release us at once, and go away quietly, or I shall be forced
+to use harsher measures."
+
+"You do it very well, very well indeed," commented the journalist. "But
+you can't fool me, and so you'd better give up trying."
+
+"I say," remarked Miss Arminster to Marchmont, "you're making an awful
+fool of yourself."
+
+The representative of the _Daily Leader_ shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Won't you consent to let us go, without threshing the whole thing out?"
+she asked.
+
+"What do you take me for?"
+
+"Well, as you please," she said resignedly. "Put your questions; we'll
+answer them."
+
+"Is it best to humour him?" enquired his Lordship in a low voice.
+
+"It's the only way," she replied. "Give him string enough, and see the
+cat's-cradle he'll weave out of it."
+
+"Now," said the journalist cheerfully to the Bishop, "perhaps you'll
+deny that you spent a month or six weeks in the United States this
+spring?"
+
+"A month," acquiesced his Lordship.
+
+"Just so. And during that time you were supposed to be in Scotland
+taking a rest-cure?"
+
+"I admit that such is the case. But how you obtained your information--"
+
+"I got it from your sister--about the rest-cure, I mean."
+
+"Did you tell her--er--that I was--er--in the United States?"
+
+"Yes," replied the journalist.
+
+His Lordship heaved a deep sigh. The future, he thought, held worse
+things for him than arrest and deportation.
+
+"How did you know that I was in the United States and Canada?" he
+demanded.
+
+"I saw you."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"At a little station on the borders of the two countries. You spent the
+night wrapped up in a blanket, and slept under the bar."
+
+"You never--!" broke in Miss Arminster.
+
+The Bishop nodded mournfully. So far the facts were against him, and his
+interlocutor's face shone with a gleam of triumph.
+
+"But in that case--" exclaimed Violet.
+
+"Excuse me, I'll tell the story," said Marchmont, and continued the
+narration.
+
+"You were roused about five in the morning by a man breaking into the
+room."
+
+"So I was," admitted the Bishop. "How did you know?"
+
+"I was asleep in the room overhead, and gave the alarm."
+
+"That's perfectly correct," acquiesced his Lordship. "I remember the
+tones of your voice. It's most astounding."
+
+"And the man who broke into the bar," continued Violet, "was your son."
+
+It was now Marchmont's turn to be astonished.
+
+"What!" he cried, while the Bishop ejaculated:
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"But it was," she insisted. "He went to get the coffee for me."
+
+"Were you in the station, too?" demanded his Lordship.
+
+"No, I was out in a potato-patch."
+
+"You a member of that party of political criminals who jumped off the
+train!" cried the Bishop. "I heard all about it the next morning, but I
+can't believe--"
+
+"It's quite true," she assured him.
+
+"But it's too remarkable," he went on. "I'd gone to America on purpose
+to find my son, of whom I'd heard nothing for a year. And you say he was
+there, and--er--touched me?"
+
+"Why, didn't you see him in Montreal?" asked Marchmont.
+
+"I sailed next day for England. I was on my way to the steamer when the
+accident occurred which detained me overnight."
+
+"Why then did you conceal the purpose of your trip?" demanded his
+tormentor.
+
+"My sister was much opposed to my seeking my son," said his Lordship,
+colouring furiously. "And--I--in short, I had reasons."
+
+The journalist laughed.
+
+"The story's clever," he said. "But I can tell a more interesting tale."
+And he proceeded to relate the adventures of Cecil in the person of "the
+Bishop," to which his Lordship listened with open-mouthed astonishment.
+
+"There!" concluded his captor triumphantly. "Have you anything to say to
+that?"
+
+"I have," chimed in Miss Arminster, and she gave the true version of the
+affair from the time Banborough had first engaged them at the Grand
+Central Station.
+
+"It's a very plausible story," said Marchmont, when she had finished,
+"and does credit to your invention. But fortunately I'm in a condition
+to completely disprove it."
+
+"Really?" she asked. "How so?"
+
+"I can produce a witness of the whole transaction."
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Friend Othniel."
+
+"What! here, on board the yacht?"
+
+"Yes," said Marchmont, "on board this yacht. And he can prove that what
+I say is true."
+
+"What? About the Bishop?" she cried, her voice quivering with suppressed
+merriment.
+
+"Certainly," replied the journalist. "After his release from the Black
+Maria he tells substantially your story, but gives the Bishop the part
+you have carefully assigned to his innocent son."
+
+At this she once more broke into peals of laughter, but at last,
+recovering her speech, managed to gasp out:
+
+"Bring him here, and see what he says."
+
+"I will," said Marchmont, hurriedly leaving the cabin, for her
+marvellous self-possession was beginning to arouse unpleasant suspicions
+even in his mind.
+
+"But what does it all mean?" queried the Bishop helplessly, after the
+journalist's departure. "How dare he say such things about me! I drive a
+prison-van, indeed!"
+
+"I'll tell you," she replied, striving to control her voice. "It's the
+greatest practical joke that ever was. We called your son 'the Bishop,'
+just as a nickname, you see, and of course the tramp heard us, and,
+after we dropped him in Montreal, must have blown the whole thing to
+Marchmont out of spite, and, not knowing any better, he thought your son
+really _was_ the Bishop."
+
+Here his Lordship became speechless, as the truth dawned upon him; and
+at that moment Marchmont entered the cabin, with Friend Othniel in tow.
+
+"There!" he said, pointing to the ecclesiastic. "Is that the Bishop of
+Blanford?"
+
+"Naw," replied the tramp. "He's old enough to be his father, he is. The
+Bishop I means is a young 'un."
+
+"Like this!" cried Violet, opening the locket which Cecil had given her
+in Montreal, and handing it to the tramp.
+
+"That's him to a T," said Friend Othniel. "I'd know him among a
+thousand."
+
+For a moment Marchmont said nothing as he encountered the full force of
+the cruel disillusion, and then with painstaking precision he turned and
+kicked the tramp up the entire flight of cabin stairs.
+
+"Now," remarked the Bishop, "perhaps you'll allow us to go free."
+
+"No!" cried the journalist, slamming the door. "I've wasted heaps of
+cash and no end of time over this wild-goose-chase, but the _Daily
+Leader_ shall have its scoop yet! If you aren't conspirators, I'll make
+you so, in spite of yourselves! You _shall_ be Spanish spies!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+IN WHICH THE BISHOP EATS JAM TART, AND MISS MATILDA HUMBLE-PIE.
+
+
+"Now," remarked the Bishop to Miss Arminster, as Marchmont quitted the
+cabin after this last astounding remark, "Now I'm certain he's mad."
+
+"Oh, no," replied the lady, "it's merely journalistic enterprise. I
+don't blame him for being disappointed. It must be hard to find that
+we're not conspirators, after all."
+
+"But why should he wish to make us so?"
+
+"You dear stupid old Joe!" she exclaimed. "You haven't the remotest
+inkling of what American journalism means. It's sensation first, last,
+and altogether. Think of a bishop, and an English bishop at that, posing
+as an agent of the Spanish secret service, and eloping with an actress
+on somebody else's yacht. Why, I can shut my eyes and see the
+headlines. They're almost certain to print them in red ink. There's fame
+for you!"
+
+"But why should he wish to print it if it's not the truth?"
+
+"Truth! My dear Bishop, who said anything about truth? We were speaking
+of news, and--journalistic enterprise."
+
+At this moment the door again burst open, and Marchmont flung into the
+cabin.
+
+"There!" he said, with a tone of triumph, "we've sighted an American
+steamer down channel, and have hoisted the Spanish flag. We're pursuing
+her, and very presently we shall be captured, and you'll be
+surrendered."
+
+"I suppose," began the Bishop, "that, to a man so devoid of moral
+consciousness as you appear to be, no arguments of mine--"
+
+"Don't waste your breath," broke in Miss Arminster. "They wouldn't."
+
+"Why, I'm sorry to cause you any inconvenience," said the journalist
+amiably, "but you see, my paper's simply panting for sensation, and when
+they hear about this little racket they'll sell extras till they can't
+see straight."
+
+"And what, may I ask, will happen when the truth comes out?" demanded
+his Lordship severely.
+
+"Oh, the war'll probably be over by the time you reach New York, and
+you'll cease to be interesting," replied Marchmont. "Besides, we'll have
+had our scoop, and most likely, when the _Daily Leader_ finds there's no
+case against you they'll give you a return ticket. The management's
+generally pretty liberal."
+
+"Well, I must say," spluttered the Bishop, "that of all the
+brazen--unconscionable--!"
+
+"Why did you raise the Spanish flag?" interrupted Miss Arminster.
+
+"That was my idea," said the journalist, "and I'm rather proud of it.
+You see, we could hardly reverse the Union Jack as a sign of distress,
+and then go full speed ahead, but I don't think an American ship would
+resist taking a Spanish prize; and as soon as they get within firing
+range we'll run up a flag of truce. By the way," he continued, becoming
+quite courteous, now that he felt he had them in his power, "why do you
+remain in this stuffy cabin? I shall be very glad to have you up on
+deck, provided you'll give me your parole."
+
+"What, not to escape?" asked Violet. "Did you think we were going to
+jump overboard and swim ashore?"
+
+"No. I mean that you should give your parole not to be anything but
+Spaniards."
+
+"I am afraid we couldn't manage that," she replied. "The Bishop doesn't
+look nearly ferocious enough."
+
+"I absolutely refuse to become a party to this deception!" said his
+Lordship.
+
+"Oh, I don't ask you to do that," returned Marchmont, "only to promise
+that you'll not try and enlist the sympathies of the crew in your
+behalf."
+
+"I shall not promise anything," said the Bishop, "nor shall I allow this
+lady to do so. I'm a man of peace, but if ever I get hold of you on dry
+land I'll horsewhip you, if it costs me my see; and if you don't leave
+this cabin at once I'll treat you as you treated your friend. You are a
+thorough blackguard, and not fit to associate with gentlemen!"
+
+The journalist started to say something, but, remembering that his
+accuser was muscular, thought better of it, shrugged his shoulders, and
+went out silently, locking the door behind him.
+
+"There!" said his Lordship, "I can breathe more freely now."
+
+Miss Arminster made no reply, for the excellent reason that her head was
+out of a port-hole, and she could not hear clearly what was said.
+Presently she pulled it in again, crying, as she did so:
+
+"Oh, do look! This is great sport! The American ship is running away
+from us!"
+
+Such was indeed the case. The vessel they were overhauling was a small
+tramp steamer, which had evidently found courage, through the general
+incapacity of the Spanish navy and the fancied security of neutral
+waters, to flaunt the Stars and Stripes. It was therefore most
+disconcerting to find herself suddenly pursued in the English Channel by
+a craft which had every appearance of being a Spanish gunboat. No sooner
+had she caught a glimpse of the red and yellow flag of her enemy than
+she crowded on to her yards every stitch of canvass she possessed, in
+the hope of obtaining some advantage from the light breeze that was
+blowing, while the black clouds of smoke which belched from her single
+funnel showed that her engines were being driven to their utmost
+capacity. She having a long lead and the combined assistance of wind and
+steam, the distance between the pursuer and the pursued decreased
+slowly, and it soon became evident that it was to be a stern chase,
+which is proverbially a long chase. The yacht, therefore, turned about
+in search of some fresh enemy to whom she might surrender, and in this
+fortune favored her, for down the Channel came a great liner, whose
+name, albeit she flew temporarily the flag of another nation, proclaimed
+her to be an American ship, with an American captain and crew.
+
+Those on board the "Homing Pigeon" now adopted different tactics, and an
+inverted British ensign replaced the banner of the Dons.
+
+As the yacht stood directly in the path of the oncoming ocean greyhound,
+and flew signals of distress which she could not disregard, the great
+ship was forced to heave to. Marchmont hastened to convey the news to
+his prisoners in the cabin, saying that he considered them very
+fortunate, as they had every prospect of a speedy and pleasant voyage,
+and cautioning them at the same time, as he led the way up the cabin
+stairs, that resistance was futile, and that any remarks of theirs to
+the crew would only be so much waste of breath. To all of which neither
+deigned to answer a word, realising that in their present precarious
+position silence was not only the most dignified but also the safest
+course.
+
+As they reached the deck the great liner was almost abreast of them, and
+gradually came to a standstill with clouds of pent-up steam pouring from
+her safety-valves.
+
+"What do you want?" bawled her chief officer through a megaphone, his
+voice sounding very large and clear from the great height above them.
+
+"We've two prisoners of war, Spanish spies, and we wish to hand them
+over!" shouted the mate in return.
+
+"This isn't an American ship," came the reply.
+
+"Yes, it is," howled Marchmont; "we know better! You belong to the 'Pink
+Star' line."
+
+The chief officer conferred with the captain.
+
+"It's Mason and Slidell the other way round," he said. "I wouldn't
+touch 'em with a ten-foot pole. Besides--" and here he seized the
+megaphone from his subordinate and yelled through it:
+
+"You infernal idiots! don't you know the war with Spain is over? We've
+declared a truce!"
+
+"I don't believe it," cried Marchmont, shaking his fist at the great
+steamship in a paroxysm of disappointed rage. "It's only an excuse to
+shirk your duty! We've brought them out to you, and you've got to take
+them! I'll report you to the government! I'll--!"
+
+The sharp ring of the engine-room bell from the liner's bridge was the
+only reply vouchsafed him, and a moment later the big ship forged ahead,
+her captain very red in the face and swearing like a trooper: for the
+most precious thing on board a racer of that class is time, and the
+"Homing Pigeon" had been wasting it.
+
+The Bishop, noting the sheepish faces of the mate and his two fellow
+conspirators, and the lowering glances of the crew, turned to Miss
+Arminster, saying:
+
+"We'd better return to the cabin, my dear. I think there's going to be
+trouble."
+
+The little actress followed his Lordship's gaze, and descended without a
+word of protest. She thought so, too.
+
+They had hardly entered the saloon, when there came a respectful knock
+at the door, and an elderly seaman entered, ducking his head.
+
+"Well, my good man," said his Lordship, "what can I do for you?"
+
+"Meanin' no disrespect, sir, be you really the Bishop of Blanford?"
+
+"Certainly I am," that gentleman replied. "You see my dress, and," as a
+happy thought struck him, "here's one of my cards to prove my identity."
+And he handed the sailor a bit of pasteboard with his title engraved
+thereon.
+
+"And the lady?" asked the seaman.
+
+"The lady is no more connected with this absurd charge than I am,"
+pursued the Bishop. "You've been grievously misled by your mate and
+these two strangers. But if you'll take us safe to the nearest port,
+I'll speak a word in your favour to your master, Lord Downton, who's an
+intimate friend of mine. Can you read?"
+
+"Yes, your honour."
+
+"Then here's a letter from his Lordship, which I fortunately have by me,
+requesting me to join his yacht. Read it yourself, and show it to your
+fellows as a proof of who I am." And he handed him the missive.
+
+The sailor took it, ducked again, and retired silently, and there was
+presently a great shuffling of feet on the deck above.
+
+"What do you think they're doing?" asked Violet.
+
+"I trust they're coming to their senses--and if--" But his remarks were
+interrupted by a most terrific row overhead, shouts, blows, and curses.
+
+"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the Bishop. "What can be the matter?"
+
+"They're squaring accounts with Marchmont, Friend Othniel, and the mate,
+I guess," she replied, "and I hope they'll half kill them."
+
+"Fie, fie! my dear Leopard--most unchristian. I must certainly go and--"
+
+"No, you mustn't do anything of the sort! Stay right where you are.
+We're in hot enough water already." And suiting the action to the word,
+she pushed him back on to the divan.
+
+"Well, really--!" remarked the Bishop, and collapsed amiably.
+
+Presently the sounds of commotion ceased, and gave way to laughter, but
+laughter with a certain grim note in it that boded ill for those laughed
+at. After a little, there came another knock at the cabin door, and this
+time quite a deputation entered the saloon, the sailor who had first
+visited them being the spokesman.
+
+"Having disposed of those gents as you suggested--" he began.
+
+"No, no!" the Bishop hastened to disclaim, "I suggested nothing."
+
+"Well," said the seaman, "we've fixed 'em, anyway. And now we're heading
+for the nearest port, which the same's Weymouth, and we hopes you'll
+overlook what's gone before, and come on deck and take command of this
+yacht."
+
+"I will certainly come on deck," replied the Bishop. "But as to assuming
+command of the ship, I hardly feel qualified. Is there not some one
+among you--?"
+
+"I'm bo'sn, please your honour," volunteered the speaker.
+
+"Ah," said the Bishop blandly, "then I appoint you." And as the men fell
+back, he escorted Miss Arminster upstairs.
+
+As they appeared on deck, a striking scene met their eyes. Three
+wretched figures were triced up to the mainmast. They had only such
+remnants of clothes remaining on their persons as decency demanded, and
+they had all evidently made a recent acquaintance with the ship's
+tar-barrel and slush-bucket.
+
+As his Lordship and Miss Arminster appeared, the crew approached,
+expecting a speech.
+
+"I hardly know what to say," began the Bishop to Violet.
+
+"Let me speak to them, will you?" she asked, her eyes sparkling. "I
+understand human nature pretty well. I have to, in my profession."
+
+His Lordship nodded assent, and a moment later she had sprung on to the
+cabin hatch, a most entrancing little figure, and instantly commanded
+the attention and admiration of her audience.
+
+"Mates!" she cried, in her clear ringing voice, "mates, I want a word
+with you."
+
+"Speak up, and welcome!" called some one in the crowd, while the
+boatswain, nudging a comrade in the ribs, remarked under his breath:
+
+"My eye, but she's a stunner!"
+
+Silence having been obtained, she continued:
+
+"I've only this to say. We've all been made fools of. Those gentlemen
+tied up to the mast made fools of you, and you've certainly made fools
+of them."
+
+A loud laugh greeted this sally.
+
+"And," she resumed, "if it ever gets out that his Lordship the Bishop of
+Blanford and myself were carried off as Spanish spies, we'll never hear
+the last of it. Now let's all keep silence for the sake of the others.
+Put us ashore at Weymouth, and we'll say to Lord Downton that it was our
+wish to be landed there. He won't know about the occurrences of this
+day, unless some of you tell him. You might leave the journalist and the
+tramp at Weymouth, too. I guess they'll have had enough of the sea to
+last them for some time. And oh, by the way, I suppose Mr. Marchmont
+intended to pay you for this. Perhaps you'll see that the division is
+properly carried out."
+
+"Ay, ay!" came from twenty throats, followed by a rousing cheer.
+
+And so it happened that they reached _terra firma_ about six in the
+afternoon. But Weymouth, while it is geographically not far distant from
+Blanford, is miles away by the railroad and its connections, and they
+did not reach the palace till nearly midnight.
+
+Everything was dark and still, and as they stood shivering in the porch,
+the Bishop remarked, producing his latch-key:
+
+"Do you know I--I'm really afraid to open the door."
+
+She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and they entered softly.
+
+"Is there anything I can get for the Leopard, before she retires?" he
+asked apologetically, as they crossed the stone-paved floor of the
+palace by the aid of a single bedroom candle, which only served to
+accentuate the surrounding darkness.
+
+"No, thank you, I'm all right," she faltered, putting her foot on the
+first step of the stairs. And then, without the slightest warning, she
+burst into tears.
+
+His Lordship, completely bewildered at this unexpected turn of affairs,
+patted her on the head, saying: "Dear, dear!" much as he would have done
+to obstreperous babies suspicious of baptism. But the fair Violet wept
+on.
+
+"What is it?" said the Bishop. "What have I done?"
+
+"You haven't done anything," she replied between her sobs, "but I--I'm
+so dreadfully hungry."
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed his Lordship, "I forgot all about dinner."
+
+It was quite true that, in his anxiety to catch trains and make a series
+of bewildering connections, the question of food had entirely escaped
+his memory, and, now he came to think of it, he was ravenously hungry
+himself.
+
+"I'm so sorry," he said helplessly. "We must see what we can find."
+
+It was years since he had dared to investigate his own pantries; but
+under the spur of Miss Arminster's necessities he achieved prodigies of
+valour, even breaking into that holy of holies, his sister's jam-closet.
+The little actress aided and abetted him, creating havoc among jars of
+sardines, olives, and caviare. And then, while they were in the midst of
+their midnight orgy, a figure appeared before them--a figure clad in an
+indescribable dressing-gown and carrying a bedroom candle.
+
+"Josephus," said the apparition, "is that you?"
+
+"Yes, my dear," replied the Bishop, with his mouth full of jam tart, "it
+is."
+
+"I wonder you've the face to enter the house!" said his sister.
+
+"His own house! That's good," commented Miss Arminster from the midst of
+sardines.
+
+"I admit that the circumstances are unusual," remarked the Bishop,
+cutting himself another large slice of the pastry, "but the train
+service is most irregular, and, as you can see, it was necessary to
+bring the Leopard home to-night, and so--"
+
+"Josephus!" broke in his sister, "there are no leopards in this country,
+and I _can_ see that to the other sins you have undoubtedly committed
+you have added the vice of--"
+
+But she got no further, for the Bishop, casting a glance at each of the
+two women, decided that now or never was salvation at hand, and said
+brusquely:
+
+"Matilda, go to bed at once!"
+
+It was the first time he had ever spoken to her in tones of authority,
+and his sister, not believing her ears, returned to the charge.
+
+"And as for that shameless minx--" she continued; but his Lordship again
+interrupted, remarking severely:
+
+"Matilda, go to bed instantly!"
+
+But the spinster was not yet defeated.
+
+"Josephus!" she began, in her most approved style.
+
+"Go to bed!" repeated the Bishop sharply.
+
+For one moment she wavered. Then, realising that under the present
+conditions resistance was worse than useless, she turned slowly upon her
+heel, and marched upstairs with the air of a martyr going to the stake.
+
+"You were right," said his Lordship moodily, as he disposed of the last
+piece of pie-crust.
+
+"Right about what?" asked Violet.
+
+"Mud-baths," returned the Bishop.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+IN WHICH MISS ARMINSTER PROPOSES TO MARRY AGAIN.
+
+
+Cecil and Miss Matilda breakfasted alone the next morning. This was not
+by intention, but by fate. Violet and the Bishop, for obvious reasons,
+kept their respective rooms. Mrs. Mackintosh had felt it her duty to
+breakfast with, and comfort, her friend in distress, likewise to receive
+an early account of the doings of the day before; while Smith and
+Spotts, hearing that the fugitives had returned, took an early breakfast
+and adjourned to the neighboring golf-links. Cecil, however, who slept
+well, came down at the usual hour, quite unconscious of what was
+impending, and calmly walked into the trap.
+
+After the ancient butler had passed the tea and toast, and then
+withdrawn, as was his wont, leaving them to carve out their own
+salvation, Miss Matilda lost no time in opening up the contest. She had
+been at swords' points with her nephew ever since the evening before, as
+a result of his stoutly maintaining his father's innocence, and the
+manner in which she reported her midnight meeting would have made even
+Marchmont envious.
+
+"And now of course he'll have to marry her," she wound up her recital.
+
+"Good heavens! I hope not!" ejaculated Cecil.
+
+"I'm glad," remarked his aunt stiffly, "that we've at least one point of
+agreement."
+
+"Oh, we are quite agreed on that," he returned. "It would never do at
+all; in fact it's quite impossible."
+
+"You know, then?" she demanded.
+
+"Know what?" he asked cautiously.
+
+"That she's been married dozens of times already."
+
+"I don't think I can subscribe to more than half a dozen. But Miss
+Arminster certainly does seem to have a fondness for that sort of
+thing."
+
+"And in the face of such scandalous proceedings do you consider her a
+fit person to marry your poor misguided father?"
+
+"I've told you I don't approve," he said, and added: "How did you come
+to know about Miss Arminster's marriages?"
+
+"Mr. Marchmont told me."
+
+"Confound him!"
+
+"Cecil! Mr. Marchmont's a gentleman."
+
+"He's a mischief-maker of the first water."
+
+"Do not let us waste time in discussing his character. The important
+question is, what are we to do about your father's marriage?"
+
+"Stop it."
+
+"But how?" she asked. "Shall I speak?"
+
+"No, no; leave it to me," he said. "I'll undertake to settle the matter.
+If you saw the Bishop, you'd only irritate him."
+
+"He told me to go to bed, last night, after that woman had insulted me."
+
+"Insulted you? I thought you told me she'd nothing to say for herself."
+
+"Her presence was an insult, and one of us leaves this house to-day,"
+replied his aunt, and swept out of the room.
+
+Cecil gulped down his tea, and, ringing the bell, sent an urgent message
+to Miss Arminster, requesting a meeting in his aunt's boudoir, which,
+considering the purpose of the interview, he was sure Miss Matilda would
+not object to put at her disposal.
+
+Violet received him in about twenty minutes, apologising for her
+charming tea-gown, on the ground of being somewhat seedy.
+
+"Our supper last night was rather extraordinary, you know," she said.
+
+"I've only heard one version," he replied.
+
+"Miss Matilda's?" she asked, laughing.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"I fancy it was lurid enough," she went on; "but your good father's out
+of leading-strings this time, and no mistake."
+
+"Tell me all about it," he said. "I'm most anxious to know."
+
+"Of course you are," she returned. "So here goes."
+
+Banborough enjoyed the recital immensely, and laughed immoderately at
+certain passages.
+
+"So the governor knows all about our adventures?" he said, when she had
+finished. "Did he seem much upset?"
+
+"Only about not recognising you when you blacked his eye under the bar."
+
+"What a good old chap he is! Just think of his coming all that way to
+hunt me up! I wish he could have some fun out of life."
+
+"We must try and help him to do so," she said.
+
+"Yes," he replied, suddenly recollecting the object of his mission.
+"It's just that that I've come about. You see he's awfully
+conscientious, and when he's thought things over a bit, helped by my
+aunt's amiable suggestions, he'll come to the conclusion that he ought
+to marry you, you know--and so--well, he'll try to do it," he ended
+lamely, hoping she would see the point without further elucidation on
+his part.
+
+She was quick to take him up.
+
+"And you don't think that's just the best way for him to have a good
+time? Sour grapes--eh, my son?"
+
+"No, no; only he's certain to propose to you."
+
+"Supposing he has done so?"
+
+"Well--did you accept him?"
+
+"What do you think?" she asked.
+
+"I don't quite see how you could--under the circumstances."
+
+"Oh, he'd only had two bottles of champagne," she said, purposely
+misunderstanding him from pure joy of seeing him flounder.
+
+"I didn't mean that," he went on. "But, anyway, his conscience
+will reassert itself, and he'll probably propose again this
+morning--ponderously."
+
+"And you're afraid I might accept?"
+
+"I'm sure you'd make a most charming step-mamma," he replied, "only--"
+
+"Only what?"
+
+"Only the--the others might object, mightn't they?"
+
+"The others?"
+
+"All the men you've married," he blurted out, "if you will have it."
+
+"I see," she said meditatively. "And you don't want to run the 'dear
+Bishop' in for another scandal."
+
+"Of course, if you choose to put it that way--"
+
+"It's the way you'd put it if you only had the pluck," she retorted.
+
+"Are you awfully angry with me?" he asked, looking at her.
+
+"Not a bit," she replied. "From your point of view it's quite
+justifiable, I suppose, and I'm only considering the best way out of the
+dilemma."
+
+"Are there several?"
+
+"There's only one that I care to choose."
+
+"And that is?"
+
+"I shall marry again."
+
+"Good heavens! not--!"
+
+"Not your father, no; some one else."
+
+"But surely--!"
+
+"You see," she continued calmly, ignoring his interruption, "if I marry
+some one at once your father can't have any feeling of--shall we say
+responsibility? And it'll not be necessary for me to go into what Miss
+Matilda would call 'my shameful past.'"
+
+"But I really couldn't allow--"
+
+"Oh, I'm not going to marry you either, so you needn't be alarmed. Can't
+you make some suggestions to help me out?"
+
+"I am afraid you must excuse me," he said, fast becoming scandalised at
+her matter-of-fact way of approaching the subject.
+
+"Well, of course," she went on thoughtfully, "there are all your
+father's chaplains, but they're young, and prone to take things
+seriously. No, I don't think they'd do. And there's the butler. No, he
+wouldn't answer, either."
+
+"Perhaps Miss Matilda would lend you Professor Smith."
+
+"No," she said, "I don't think I'd have the heart to deprive her of him.
+On the whole, I think I'll marry Mr. Spotts. He's nice--and handy."
+
+"But mightn't he have something to say?" began Banborough.
+
+"Probably," admitted Violet; "but he generally does what he's told, and
+as he isn't married to any one else, I dare say he'll prove amenable
+when he understands the position. I'll try and see him this morning,
+and," as a brilliant idea struck her, "your father shall perform the
+ceremony. I never was married by a Bishop before. Won't it be jolly!"
+
+"You surely can't seriously intend--" began Cecil.
+
+"Yes, I do. Now don't be stupid, but run along and let me finish my
+toilet." And she ran out of the room.
+
+Banborough walked away in a maze. He had thought to straighten matters
+out, and he had only got them into a far worse tangle. That Miss
+Arminster had no conscientious scruples about adding another husband to
+her quota was bad enough, but that his innocent, unsuspecting father
+should be allowed to disgrace his cloth by solemnising such a marriage
+was really more than he could stand. In his righteous wrath he
+determined that the Bishop should know the whole truth, soothing his
+conscience by the thought that if he did not tell him, Miss Matilda
+would.
+
+In the hall of the palace, however, he ran across Spotts, laden with the
+implements of golf, and all unconscious of his impending fate.
+
+"Look here, old man," said Cecil, "I want to have five minutes' chat
+with you."
+
+"I am quite at your service," replied his friend. "In fact I was just
+coming to look you up myself. Now that the war's over, I must really be
+thinking of going away, as I've imposed long enough already on your
+hospitality."
+
+"Oh, it isn't about that I want to see you," said Banborough. "It's
+about your getting married."
+
+"My getting married?" queried Spotts.
+
+"Yes. It seems there's a lady who has matrimonial designs on you. I
+thought it was only the part of a friend to warn you in due season."
+
+"If it's your aunt," returned the actor, "I'm very much obliged. I think
+I could manage to get packed up and leave by the afternoon train."
+
+"No, no; it isn't so bad as that," said his host. "Or, rather, it's
+worse. Miss Arminster has you under consideration."
+
+"As a husband?"
+
+"Yes. I think she means to marry you to-morrow or next day, and have my
+father perform the ceremony."
+
+"Oh, I see. And you've some feeling about it."
+
+"Well, yes," admitted Cecil, "I'm afraid I have."
+
+"I suppose you'd like to take my place?"
+
+"No, it isn't that either. Yon don't seem to see the point. Miss
+Arminster wants to marry _you_."
+
+"Well, isn't that a question between Miss Arminster and myself?"
+
+"Naturally. But then she's married pretty frequently, hasn't she? Of
+course, if all her husbands are dead--"
+
+"Oh, no," said Spotts. "I don't think she's ever lost a husband."
+
+"But you surely can't contemplate--" began Cecil.
+
+"Well, you see," contended the actor, "this is the first time she's ever
+asked me to marry her, and one can't be so ungallant as to refuse a
+lady."
+
+"And you'll really add yourself to her list?"
+
+Spotts shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"My dear fellow," he said, "I don't want to appear rude, but this
+interference in my prospective matrimonial affairs seems to me
+ill-timed. Miss Arminster hasn't as yet proposed to me, and if she does,
+I'll probably consent to oblige her. Anyway, it's doing you a favour, as
+I suppose your father would wish to marry her if I didn't." And turning
+on his heel, he walked away.
+
+As he ascended the stairs, he met Violet coming down. They were standing
+on the broad landing, and for the moment were quite alone and out of
+earshot.
+
+"I say!" burst out the actor. "Do you know I have just been warned
+against you by your friend Banborough. A joke's a joke, but this is
+going too far."
+
+"I know, Alvy," she said, "I know, and I'm awfully sorry. But it's
+almost over."
+
+"I hope it is," he replied. "I have held an equivocal position for
+months, and it isn't pleasant. Why, I've practically seen nothing of
+you."
+
+"It hasn't been pleasant for me either, old man. But, to speak frankly,
+you know as well as I do that it's been largely a sentimental interest
+which has caused Cecil to get us all out of this scrape. However, if he
+doesn't tell his father to-day--and I tried hard enough to force him to
+do so this morning--I shall."
+
+"Good! Then his Lordship's Leopard will be free," said Spotts. And
+pressing her hand, he proceeded on his way upstairs.
+
+In the face of his two interviews, Cecil felt he had no option but to
+refer the whole matter to the Bishop, whom he found in his study. He
+received a somewhat grim reception from the old gentleman, to whom a
+sleepless night had afforded ample opportunity for reflecting on the
+vagaries of his son, to which he, not altogether unjustly, attributed
+his adventures of the preceding day.
+
+After formal salutations had been exchanged, the younger man, feeling
+that a disagreeable business was the better over, lost no time in coming
+to the point.
+
+"I don't know that there's anything to be said about the past, father,"
+he began.
+
+"I should think there was a great deal to be said," returned his
+Lordship brusquely. "But this is perhaps not the best time to say it.
+I've been told a very astonishing story by Miss Arminster."
+
+"About the Black Maria and--the Spanish plot?"
+
+"About your wretched novel, sir!"
+
+"Ah, yes. Well, I corroborate it all, word for word. Miss Arminster told
+me about it this morning."
+
+"You've seen her, then?"
+
+"Yes. We had a chat concerning a number of things. But, as you suggest,
+we might reserve the discussion of our joint American experiences till
+another occasion, so I won't mention them beyond apologising to you for
+having blacked your eye under the bar; though of course I could hardly
+have supposed that your ecclesiastical duties would have placed you in
+just that position."
+
+"Say, rather, the search for an unregenerate son," suggested the Bishop,
+with a twinkle in his eye which showed him to be in better humour.
+
+"Well, anyway, you gave as good as you got," said Cecil. "My ribs were
+sore for a week afterwards."
+
+"Ah," replied his Lordship. "I thought I must have landed you one. I
+haven't quite forgotten the athletics of my college days."
+
+"Then we're quits," returned Cecil. "But it was more than good of you to
+come out there and look for me. A father who could do all that deserves
+a somewhat better son than I've been in the past; and in the future--"
+
+"Don't say it, Cecil. I know it." And the Bishop gripped his hand in a
+way that caused the mental and moral atmosphere to clear instantly.
+
+"And now," said his son, "I want to talk about Miss Arminster."
+
+"It's the subject nearest my heart," replied his father.
+
+"I asked her to marry me at Montreal," Cecil remarked simply.
+
+"So I inferred from what she said on the yacht," said his Lordship.
+
+"And you proposed to her yesterday."
+
+"Did she tell you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, the fact is she doesn't want to marry either of us."
+
+The Bishop nodded his head despondently.
+
+"But," continued the younger man, "she contemplates marrying some one
+else."
+
+"Ah," said his Lordship, "I'm heartily glad she proposes to
+_marry_--after yesterday."
+
+"Quite so, and she means to ask you to perform the ceremony."
+
+"Isn't that rather--"
+
+"Rubbing it in?" suggested Cecil. "So it seemed to me."
+
+"Who is the--er--prospective bride-groom?"
+
+"Spotts."
+
+"He seems a good fellow."
+
+"Yes, but--will you forgive me if I speak frankly? There can't be any
+feeling of jealousy between us; we've both been worsted."
+
+"What do you wish to say?"
+
+"That I'm afraid this marriage must not be permitted. You see, Miss
+Arminster isn't quite what she seems."
+
+"If you're going to say anything against that young lady--!" began his
+Lordship angrily.
+
+"You forget," said his son, "I wanted to marry her."
+
+His father remembered; and remembering, said:
+
+"Proceed."
+
+"Well, I found out, for myself I mean, that Miss Arminster had been
+married a number of times."
+
+"A number of times!"
+
+"Half a dozen at least. Perhaps more."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"She admitted as much to me."
+
+"But surely--!"
+
+"As far as I know, none of her husbands has died."
+
+"In America," began the Bishop, "the divorce laws are lax, and
+perhaps--"
+
+"Oh, no, I'm sure she hasn't been divorced. I don't think she'd approve
+of it."
+
+"But then--it means--"
+
+"Yes, that's just the point. And so another marriage with this Mr.
+Spotts--"
+
+"Must be stopped at all costs!" cried his Lordship, growing very red in
+the face with agitation.
+
+"I thought you'd feel so," said his son. "And that's why I ventured--"
+
+At this moment Miss Matilda entered the room.
+
+"What are you talking about, Josephus?" she demanded, assuming a
+domination of which she felt by no means sure. "Did I hear you mention
+that hussy's name?"
+
+"I was speaking," said the Bishop, "of _Miss Arminster_. Cecil tells me
+she's to marry Mr. Spotts."
+
+"That's impossible," snapped Miss Matilda.
+
+"What do you mean?" asked her brother.
+
+"I mean what I say. While you were shamelessly gallivanting down the
+Channel, I went over to the little church near the ruined abbey which
+you visited the day you met Mr. Marchmont, and there I found a record of
+the marriage, in 1895, of this _person_ who calls herself _Miss_
+Arminster, and I say she can't marry Mr. Spotts."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because she's married to him already!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+IN WHICH MISS ARMINSTER VERIFIES THE PROVERB.
+
+
+The Bishop was pacing his garden. He was far from happy. It is true he
+had not been worsted in his encounter with his sister. There had been a
+drawn battle, and he had retired with dignity, conceding nothing but
+that he would ask Miss Arminster to come to his study at noon and
+explain her position. He could not believe the charges against the
+charming Violet, but nevertheless he felt decidedly uncomfortable: for
+even if she cleared herself, she was still married, and the palace
+lacked a mistress.
+
+It was easy to say that Miss Matilda should be deposed, but who should
+take her place? Not another man's wife, certainly. For the first time
+in all these years, his Lordship realised how lonely he had been. He
+should have remarried long before, and indeed even so unworldly a person
+as he knew that more than one young lady in Blanford would have viewed
+with complacency the prospect of becoming Mrs. Bishop.
+
+A young wife, however, even as attractive as the fair Violet, was not,
+he told himself, exactly what he wanted. He had tried a period of double
+rule in which his sister was the power behind the throne, and it was
+infinitely worse than the present regime. No; if he took another
+helpmate, she must be a person of strong will, some one who could hold
+her own against all comers, some one who should have an inexhaustible
+fund of sympathy for his work, some one whose appreciation of the
+exalted position of the Bishop of Blanford should be so great as to
+blind her, occasionally at least, to those minor faults to which,
+Scripture tells us, all flesh is heir.
+
+It was at just this point in his meditations that his Lordship, turning
+sharply round the corner of a large gooseberry-bush, came suddenly upon
+Mrs. Mackintosh. Their surprise was mutual, for the good lady had
+evidently been gardening, and was suffering from the rigour of the game.
+
+"That head man of yours is a duffer," she said sharply, pointing a very
+earthy trowel at the unconscious figure of the gardener, who was busy in
+the middle distance digging potatoes. "A man," she continued, "who calls
+a plain, every-day squash a vegetable marrow isn't fit to run a
+well-ordered truck-patch; though it's no more than might be expected in
+a country where they sell bread by the yard, and flour by the gallon.
+And what, I should like to know, is a 'punnet'?"
+
+"I'm afraid, madam, I must confess my ignorance," replied the Bishop.
+
+"I thought as much," she retorted. "And yet they put you in command of a
+diocese. Your gardener said to me this morning: 'I'll pick a "punnet" of
+strawberries to-day.' 'You'll do nothing of the kind,' I told him.
+'Pick them in a Christian basket, or not at all.'"
+
+His Lordship laughed.
+
+"It's some sort of measure, I imagine," he remarked.
+
+"I shouldn't wonder. And your cook's just as bad. She asked me yesterday
+if I liked jugged hare. 'Let me see your jug,' said I, 'and then I'll
+tell you.' And as sure's I'm a sinner, she told me she never used one
+for that dish!"
+
+"Now you speak of it," said his Lordship, "I don't think I ever saw one
+myself. But what are you doing this morning?"
+
+"Straightening the peas."
+
+"Straightening the peas?" he asked, thoroughly mystified.
+
+"Yes, they're all waggly. When I plant my garden I take a string and two
+pegs and plant the seed along a line; but these just seem to be put in
+anyhow."
+
+"Is it good for the peas?" asked the Bishop suspiciously, as he saw them
+being rooted up and reset.
+
+"I can't say," she returned sharply. "But things ought to be straight at
+an episcopal palace, if they are anywhere."
+
+"So they should," he admitted mournfully, "but it's far from being the
+case. That's why I came out to consult you."
+
+"Go ahead, then. You talk, and I'll dig."
+
+And while the plants were being arranged to an ecclesiastical standard,
+he retailed to her the charges against Violet.
+
+"Do you believe them?" she asked, jamming her trowel up to its hilt in
+the soft earth.
+
+"Of course I do not."
+
+"Right you are," she said. "I know the whole story, and it's nothing to
+be ashamed of, I give you my word."
+
+"You relieve me immensely."
+
+"It's merely American enterprise," continued the old lady. "That's why
+they call her the Leopard."
+
+"The Leopard-- I don't understand. She asked me to call her that."
+
+"Well, I won't steal her thunder. She'll tell you herself."
+
+"But she is married?"
+
+"Oh, yes."
+
+The Bishop sighed.
+
+"That disappoints you?" said Mrs. Mackintosh thoughtfully, balancing a
+pea-plant in her hand.
+
+"Yes; at least I'd hoped--"
+
+"I know. She told me. We haven't any secrets from each other."
+
+"You see," continued his Lordship, "if my sister leaves me, I must have
+some one to take her place; otherwise--"
+
+"She won't go."
+
+"Yes," said the Bishop; "that's just the point."
+
+"You ought to marry at once."
+
+"I feel that myself; but then, you see, there's no one who would care to
+marry me--no one at least who--"
+
+"You don't want a young chit."
+
+"No," said his Lordship. "Somebody more like you."
+
+Mrs. Mackintosh paused in her gardening.
+
+"Look here," she said. "Are you going to propose to me next?"
+
+"I--was--thinking of it," admitted the Bishop.
+
+"As a last resource?"
+
+"My dear Mrs. Mackintosh!"
+
+"I don't know as I ever could be a bishopess," replied that lady,
+inadvertently resetting a pea-plant upside down.
+
+"There's Jonah," said the Bishop, resorting to diplomacy. "I shall never
+be able to complete that last volume without the spur of your
+appreciative criticism."
+
+"Well," she replied, partially relenting, "I'd do a good deal
+for--Jonah."
+
+"Then you will!" he cried.
+
+"I've one row of those peas left," she returned, "and when I've reset
+them I'll give you your answer. That'll be in fifteen minutes. Now go
+away, or you'll fidget round, and I sha'n't get 'em straight." And
+without another word she resumed her digging.
+
+Fifteen minutes later his Lordship was at her side.
+
+"There's one more plant left," remarked Mrs. Mackintosh, cleaning her
+trowel and addressing herself to the task.
+
+"And are you going to say Yes when you have finished?"
+
+"Yes," said the lady, "I am, but it's mostly on account of Jonah."
+
+The Bishop ruthlessly set his foot on the tender shoot which intervened
+between him and happiness, crushing it to the earth.
+
+Some time later Mrs. Mackintosh remarked:
+
+"The cathedral clock is striking twelve, and you're due in the study."
+
+"You mean, my dear, that _we_ are due," replied his Lordship.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On their arrival in the Bishop's sanctum, they found the full force of
+the company assembled to receive them.
+
+Miss Matilda looked on this gathering with suspicion.
+
+"I do not see," she said, "the need of so many witnesses to what must
+prove, I fear, a humiliating confession."
+
+"I've come," returned Mrs. Mackintosh, "to lend moral support to--" She
+glanced at the Bishop, changed her mind, and supplemented--"Miss
+Arminster."
+
+"Shall I speak?" asked Miss Matilda, ignoring her remark.
+
+"I will speak," said his Lordship. "It is my house, and my place to do
+so."
+
+His sister sat down hurriedly.
+
+"I've sent for you, my dear," he continued, turning to Violet, "because
+certain charges have been made against you by Mr. Marchmont and--others,
+and, as my son informs me that you contemplate marrying Mr. Spotts, and
+asking me to perform the ceremony, I feel it is my duty--"
+
+"She's already--" broke in his sister.
+
+"I am speaking, Matilda," he said quietly, and she collapsed.
+
+"You mustn't think," he went on, "that my asking you to explain your
+position implies any belief on my part in the charges made against you.
+I've only requested this interview because I thought you'd like an
+opportunity to disprove idle gossip."
+
+"It's very kind of you," she replied, "and I shall avail myself of it
+gladly."
+
+"Quite so. Now my sister tells me that she's seen, in a neighbouring
+church, the record of your marriage to Mr. Spotts. Is this so?"
+
+"Certainly," said Violet. "I married him there in 1895."
+
+Miss Matilda sniffed viciously.
+
+"Mr. Marchmont," continued the Bishop, "in whose statements, I need
+hardly say, I place no reliance, informed my sister that you had been
+married with unusual frequency; and my son tells me, also, that you've
+admitted to him a--er--a considerable number of--er--matrimonial
+alliances. Would you--er--er--consider it an intrusion on my part if I
+asked how many times you have been married?"
+
+"I've had the marriage service performed over me," she replied,
+"thirty-seven times in four years."
+
+Miss Matilda threw up her hands in an access of horror.
+
+"But your husbands--" stammered his Lordship.
+
+"I never had but one husband," she said. "And here he stands." And she
+took Spotts's hand in hers.
+
+"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the Bishop. "You surely haven't married him
+thirty-seven times?"
+
+"Yes, that is exactly the case," she returned.
+
+"But I don't understand."
+
+"The explanation is very simple," she replied. "My husband and I are
+both actors. He plays the part of the hero, and I the part of the
+heroine. In the fifth act, after many struggles and disappointments,
+we're at last united. To have the marriage ceremony actually performed
+on the stage, or the next day at church, has always proved a great
+attraction to our audiences. At first I objected. But I've been informed
+by a competent authority in my own country that there's no canonical
+rule against it, and in remarrying my husband I merely renew my vows to
+him, and I've never once gone through the ceremony lightly or
+thoughtlessly. I do not defend the practice, or expect you to approve of
+it, and, now that you know the truth, I shouldn't think of asking you to
+marry us again; but I don't consider that I've done anything of which I
+need be ashamed."
+
+"Dear me!" said the Bishop. "In my ecclesiastical position I can hardly
+approve of the course you've taken; but as a man--well, it's a great
+relief to me."
+
+"I consider it a sacrilege," exclaimed Miss Matilda, "and, as I remarked
+to Cecil this morning, that young person leaves the palace to-day, or I
+do!"
+
+"You'll naturally act as seems to you best," said her brother. "But I
+beg you to remember that I'm master of this house, and that this lady is
+my guest."
+
+"And who, pray, will keep your house for you when I'm gone?" she
+snapped.
+
+"I'm sure that Mrs. Spotts will attend to it for me until Mrs.
+Mackintosh and I are married."
+
+"Till you're married!" his sister repeated after him, too astounded to
+grasp fully the meaning of his words.
+
+"It is an event which I hope will occur shortly," her brother replied.
+
+"That's enough!" she retorted. "I leave Blanford this afternoon!"
+
+"I trust you'll not go in anger, Matilda," he said. "I'm sure a change
+will do you good. Miss Arminster--I mean Mrs. Spotts--suggests a course
+of mud-baths; and if you'll permit me to assume the expense--"
+
+"Josephus!" she returned shortly, "do not add insult to injury." And she
+swept from the room.
+
+"I, too," said Professor Tybalt Smith, who had hitherto remained
+silent--"I, too, must be permitted to excuse myself. It may be that I
+can comfort that injured lady in her exile." And he followed her out.
+
+"Oh, I'm delighted!" cried Violet, seizing Mrs. Mackintosh's hand.
+
+"And I, too," said Cecil.
+
+"Thank you," replied his stepmother-to-be. "That pleases me more than
+anything else. I hope you'll really make Blanford your home."
+
+"I shall indeed," he returned, "since no one will have me as a husband."
+
+"You've the great success of your book to comfort you," suggested
+Violet. "What more can you ask?"
+
+"Well, as it seems a day of explanations," he said, "I should really
+like to know why you're called 'the Leopard'?"
+
+"It's a very trifling secret after all," she replied, laughing. "But to
+have let you know it would have given away our little plot. Now it
+doesn't matter. Tell him, Alvy."
+
+"It's merely this," said her husband gaily: "that, as much as she may
+marry, HIS LORDSHIP'S LEOPARD CAN NEVER CHANGE HER SPOT(T)S."
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+GODFREY'S THE HARP OF LIFE 12mo. $1.50.
+
+A very human account of certain events in the life of the first violin
+of the Pinecliff (England) orchestra.
+
+     _Boston Transcript_: "She has literary skill, grace, delicacy....
+     Here and there are bits of description sketched in with as much
+     sympathy as truthfulness.... Her artistic sense is very keen. She
+     doesn't introduce a description like this for the mere sake of
+     describing: something, but for the purpose of contrast with a mood
+     or situation, and she never spoils a perspective. Although she is
+     writing a musical novel, she never rhapsodizes.... The
+     characterization is effective throughout.... This masterly tale
+     cannot want for readers, it seems to us."
+
+     _Public Opinion_: "Miss Godfrey writes understandingly of music
+     and the musical temperament."
+
+     _Outlook_: "There are several characters of interest, and the
+     somewhat unusual situations in which they are placed are handled
+     in a clever and novel manner."
+
+     _N. Y. Herald_: "She draws human nature, delights in the
+     opposition of character, and has, in fact, written a first-rate
+     modern novel."
+
+     _Buffalo Commercial Advertiser_: "A thoroughly good, strong, pure
+     story."
+
+
+GODFREY'S POOR HUMAN NATURE
+
+A musical novel. _2d Impression_, 12mo. $1.50.
+
+The story of some Wagnerian singers at the Court Opera of Blankenstadt.
+It has been said that this name thinly veils Dresden, and that the book
+gives an intimate picture of musical life at the Saxon capital.
+
+     _Bookman_: "It is curiously convincing. The characters, too are
+     peculiarly real.... Each and every one stands out with vivid
+     distinction, and is not soon to be forgotten.... The portrayal of
+     local life, particularly that appertaining to operatic circles, is
+     full of freshness and interest.... It is well written, it is nobly
+     felt, it is altogether an admirable work."
+
+     _New York Tribune_: "One of the cleverest musical novels we know,
+     and it is particularly creditable in that it holds nothing of the
+     hysterical gush with which the feminine writer usually fills
+     fiction of this kind.... The study of the group of singers at the
+     Royal Opera in a minor German city is astonishingly well done, and
+     so is the portrait of the great tenor's peasant wife ... so
+     unmistakably true that she must have been drawn from life ... an
+     uncommonly attractive and interesting novel."
+
+     _Boston Transcript_: "We have nothing but praise to say of this
+     fine, strong tale, and can recommend it heartily and without
+     qualification."
+
+     _Literary World_: "There is a distinctly original touch in this
+     story.... Full of interest."
+
+
+
+
+_21st Impression of a Remarkable Romance._
+
+THE GADFLY.
+
+By E. L. VOYNICH. 12mo, cloth. $1.25.
+
+_New York Tribune_: "It is nothing more or less than one of the most
+powerful novels of the decade.... He shows us the veritable conspirator
+of history, who plotted like a human being: and not like an operatic
+bandit.... It is a thrilling book and absolutely sober.... 'The Gadfly'
+is an original and impressive being; ... a story to remember."
+
+_New York Times_: "Paradox worked up with intense dramatic effect is the
+salient feature of 'The Gadfly'; ... shows a wonderfully strong hand,
+and descriptive powers which are rare; ... a very remarkable romance."
+
+_The Dial_: "One of the most interesting phases of the history of
+Nineteenth Century Europe. The story of the Italian revolutionary
+movement; ... is full of such incidents as the novelist most desires;
+... this novel is one of the strongest of the year, vivid in conception,
+and dramatic in execution, filled with intense human feeling, and worked
+up to a tremendously impressive climax."
+
+_The Critic_: "An historical novel permeated with a deep religious
+interest in which from first to last the story is dominant and
+absorbing.... 'The Gadfly' is a figure to live in the imagination."
+
+_The New York Herald_: "An exceptionally clever story, eminently fresh
+and original. The author has a capital story to tell, and he tells it
+consummately well.... The beaten track has not allured him, and the
+characters to whom he introduces us are not such as we meet in every-day
+novels. This is the crowning merit of this book."
+
+_The Chap Book_: "Gives the reading public an opportunity to welcome a
+new and intense writer; ... a profound psychological study; ... a
+powerful climax. Yet, however much the imagination be used, the author
+will be found to rise beyond it; the scene at High Mass on the feast of
+Corpus Christi being one of the most powerful in English fiction."
+
+_The Independent_: "We have read this peculiar romance with breathless
+interest; ... a romance of revolutionary experiences in Italy; lifelike,
+stirring, picturesque, a story of passion, sacrifice, and tragic
+energy."
+
+_The Literary World_: "A powerful and picturesque story--a canvas
+glowing with color and life--the few striking characters stand out in
+firm, resolute outlines. We heartily commend 'The Gadfly.'"
+
+_The Buffalo Commercial_: "In every way sharp, thrilling, entertaining."
+
+_The Chicago Post_: "A powerful story, and, unlike others of its kind,
+holds the reader's attention strictly to the end."
+
+_The Chicago Times-Herald_: "'The Gadfly' is a tremendous story. It goes
+on like a whirlwind, gathering force as it rushes."
+
+
+BARROW'S THE FORTUNE OF WAR A novel of the last year of the American
+Revolution. 12mo. $1.25.
+
+     The scene is laid mainly in New York City during the British
+     occupation, partly on one of the prison ships, and partly in the
+     patriot camp at Morristown. The life in the headquarters of the
+     two armies is cleverly contrasted. The story has a strong "love
+     interest."
+
+     _N. Y. Times Saturday Review_: "The story is a good one, the
+     historical data accurate, and the ways and manners of the period
+     are cleverly presented."
+
+     _The Outlook_: "Miss Elizabeth Barrow has done her work, not only
+     well, but delightfully well."
+
+     _Chicago Times-Herald_: "Another tale of the time of Washington,
+     but one that is more deserving both of popular and critical
+     appreciation than some of the much-vaunted financial successes."
+
+     _Springfield Republican_: "It gives a good picture of New York
+     City as it was in the eighteenth century.... The story is
+     agreeable reading."
+
+     _Hartford Courant_: "She has done good work in her romance; ... it
+     is told in a very attractive way.... The book is decidedly one
+     that will entertain."
+
+
+GODFREY'S THE HARP OF LIFE
+
+     Uniform with the author's "Poor Human Nature." 12mo. $1.50.
+
+     An intensely human story of an episode in the life of the first
+     violin of an orchestra, at an English watering-place. Miss Godfrey
+     has again been uncommonly happy in creating a "musical
+     atmosphere."
+
+
+LUCAS'S THE OPEN ROAD
+
+     A little book for wayfarers, bicycle-wise and otherwise. Compiled
+     by E. V. LUCAS, editor of "A Book of Verses for Children." With
+     illustrated cover-linings. Green and gold flexible covers. 12mo.
+     $1.50.
+
+     Some 125 poems of out-door life and 25 prose passages,
+     representing over 60 authors, including Fitzgerald, Shelley,
+     Shakespeare, Kenneth Grahame, Stevenson, Whitman, Bliss Carman,
+     Browning, William Watson, Alice Meynel, Keats, Wordsworth, Matthew
+     Arnold, Tennyson, William Morris, Maurice Hewlett, Izaak Walton,
+     Wm. Barnes, Herrick, Gervase Markham, Dobson, Lamb, Milton,
+     Whittier, etc.
+
+
+"_Better than the 'Prisoner of Zenda.'_"--CRITIC
+
+
+10th Impression of the Sequel to
+
+"The Prisoner of Zenda"
+
+
+HOPE'S RUPERT OF HENTZAU
+
+     From the memoirs of Fritz von Tarlenheim. With eight full-page
+     illustrations by CHARLES DANA GIBSON, 12mo, $1.50.
+
+     _A. Dithmar in New York Times' Saturday Review_: "Delightfully
+     stirring and irresponsible, ... a sequel ... for a wonder as
+     vigorous and powerful as its original.... It seems to bring
+     romance to life again."
+
+     _Life_: "A sequel to 'Zenda' which does not let down one bit the
+     high standard of chivalrous love which was the charm of that
+     romance.... Mr. Hope's heroes are never dull.... These 'Zenda'
+     stories have added a distinctly modern value to what men and women
+     mean by the 'sense of honor.'... The closing chapters are simply
+     written, elevated in sentiment, and an ideal solution of the fate
+     of _Flavia_ and _Rudolf_."
+
+     _Geo. W. Smalloy in New York Herald_: "A story which lays a spell
+     upon you. The animation is unceasing, and so, therefore, is the
+     interest.... Mr. Hope has not lost his old deftness in
+     dialogue.... The scene between the two men [Sapt and James] after
+     the murder ... is a masterpiece."
+
+     _New York Tribune_: "Everything moves swiftly and naturally to the
+     climax, upon which, we may add, Mr. Hope has wreaked himself with
+     a tact that is perhaps the best thing in the book.... It is
+     absorbing, and especially is it an excellent sequel, which is more
+     than can be said of most books of its kind."
+
+     _Springfield Republican_: "It is a question whether it does not
+     rival 'The Prisoner of Zenda' itself in excellence.... It strikes
+     a stronger and deeper note."
+
+     _Brooklyn Eagle_: "Has the ring of genuine humanity and true
+     romance."
+
+     _Chicago Tribune_: "Considered as a sequel, the book is
+     surprisingly good. It retains the spirit of 'Zenda,' is fertile in
+     invention, swift in movement, and is of a thrilling and absorbing
+     nature."
+
+
+6th Impression of the New Edition of
+
+HOPE'S PRISONER OF ZENDA
+
+     With five full-page illustrations by CHARLES DANA GIBSON, and a
+     view and plan of the castle by HOWARD INCE. 12mo, $1.50.
+
+
+OTHER BOOKS BY ANTHONY HOPE
+
+     With frontispieces by RACKHAM, RUSSELL, and WECHSLER. 18mo, 75
+     cents each.
+
+  INDISCRETION OF THE DUCHESS, _12th Impression_.
+  THE DOLLY DIALOGUES, _10th Impression_.
+  A CHANGE OF AIR, _9th Impression_.
+  A MAN OF MARK, _9th Impression_.
+  SPORT ROYAL, ETC., _4th Impression_.
+
+
+  "Tense with sustained power."
+  --_New York Commercial Advertiser_.
+
+
+FOLLY CORNER
+
+BY MRS. HENRY DUDENEY
+
+12mo. $1.25.
+
+A novel of love against reason in conflict with love conformable to
+reason, worked out with all the power of the author's former novel, "The
+Maternity of Harriot Wicken," but much more inviting in subject,
+characters, and treatment. A distinct advance on that able work and full
+of promise for the future of this rising author. Scene, Sussex to-day.
+
+_N. Y. Commercial Advertiser_: "It shows the same deep insight into the
+complications of the human soul [as did the author's earlier novel]....
+This story from the opening page is tense with sustained power and is
+surely destined to be one of the most important contributions to this
+season's fiction."
+
+_N. Y. Mail and Express_: "These pictures have the true color, alive
+with the activity of nature or soothing in its quietude. They form a
+distinct feature of the book, beautify its pages and make them
+notable.... It has the elements in it of a wider popularity [than that
+of the author's earlier novel], which it deserves in every sense."
+
+_Buffalo Commercial_: "We find just the same originality in plot, skill
+in character depiction, and the effective presentation of events [which
+characterized 'The Maternity of Harriot Wicken'].... In the story we see
+so artistic a description of the play of character, the various phases
+of human goodness and badness are so well drawn out, that the book
+deserves high praise.... The description of the life of Folly Corner,
+and the men and women seen there, is not surpassed by any work of any
+contemporary novelist. The book is a notable one every way."
+
+_The Academy, London_: "Really interesting; ... the writing is generally
+vigorous and even brilliant. The comedy is first rate.... It is in fact
+a successful novel."
+
+
+"One of the most captivating works of fiction that it has been our good
+fortune to read."--_Dial_.
+
+
+GOD'S PRISONER
+
+By JOHN OXENHAM. 12mo, $1.25.
+
+A story of adventure in England and the Southern Seas.
+
+_Dial_: "A series of the most romantic and startling experiences. The
+author's invention is unflaggingly brilliant, and his narrative manner
+both direct and forcible.... The reader bent upon excitement alone, and
+the reader who delights in the better qualities of romance--in literary
+form and psychological portrayal--will alike find their account in a
+book which we counsel them not to miss."
+
+_Book Buyer_: "It is not likely that any story bristles more with
+ingenious surprises.... If the reader should leave off in the middle,
+there is no doubt that he would be sorely perplexed; but it is safe to
+say that he will never have the fortitude to leave off in the middle."
+
+_New York Commercial Advertiser_: "A very intense sort of book.... Many
+thrilling scenes and strong delineations of emotion."
+
+_New York Times_: "A romance of adventure carried out to its ultimate
+degree."
+
+_New York Tribune_: "By a daring abuse of coincidence the climax is made
+positively amazing.... The tale of his wanderings is well invented and
+diverting.... 'God's Prisoner' is unnatural in its tone, but it is not
+dull."
+
+_New York Herald_: "Very entertaining reading."
+
+_Literary World_: "So much of the interest depends on the surprises in
+the plot, that we will not even give an outline of the story, but only
+say that it holds several absorbing situations."
+
+_Public Opinion_: "A good story.... The mystery and agony preceding the
+discovery is drawn in just the right shades. There was danger of
+overdoing it, but the author was not to be entrapped.... There are
+surprises to the end."
+
+_Chicago Times-Herald_: "There is such power of analysis, of
+description, and of imagination, that one feels sure that he has to deal
+here with the ebullition of an uncommon mind."
+
+_Saturday Review_ (London): "He tells his tale in so brisk and plausible
+a fashion that belief comes easily."
+
+_Graphic_ (London): "Has stronger motive for a novel of romantic and
+sensational adventure than is at all usual, and to the very great
+advantage of an otherwise exciting and well-constructed story."
+
+
+HENRY HOLT & CO.
+29 West 23rd Street
+New York
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's His Lordship's Leopard, by David Dwight Wells
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