TIIK A1UUVAI, OF MK. l I 71 KKS
 
 MR. PETERS 
 
 B Hovel 
 
 RICCARDO STEPHENS, M.B., C.M. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 BY E. M. ASHE 
 
 NEW YORK 
 HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 
 
 1897
 
 Copyright, 1897, by HARPER & BROTHERS. 
 
 All r, 9 /Ui rntrted.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 PROLOGUE 1 
 
 I. MRS. JIMPS PAYING GUEST ...... 14 
 
 II. Mil. PETKRS PRESENTS A LETTER OF INTRODUCTION . . 20 
 
 III. MR. PETERS DECLARES HIS ERRAND ..... 25 
 
 IV. LUCIUS PROPOSES A QUIET EVENING ..... 34 
 V. INTRODUCES SOPHIA AMELIE RIVERS ..... 37 
 
 VI. A LITTLE DINNER ........ 46 
 
 VII. MISS RIVERS RECEIVES A VISIT ...... 53 
 
 VIII. MR. PETERS IS PHILANTHROPIC ...... 61 
 
 IX. LUCIUS LOOKS INTO THINGS ...... 69 
 
 X. A PROFESSIONAL CONSULTATION ..... 73 
 
 XI. INTRODUCING AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE .... 82 
 
 XII. MR. PETERS OFFENDS A LADY . . . . .86 
 
 XIII. A MEETING OF MINOR POETS ...... 93 
 
 XIV. LUCIUS IS DIPLOMATIC ....... 106 
 
 XV. STRICTLY ON BUSINESS . . . . . . .114 
 
 xvi. MELIA HAS PROSPECTS ....... 123 
 
 XVII. THE JUST JUDGE ........ 130 
 
 XVIII. A BICYCLE LESSON ........ 139 
 
 XIX. A FOND PARENT ........ 14.S 
 
 XX. TOM DUNBAR : POET AND STRATEGIST . . . 157 
 
 xxi. PATIENCE! ......... 164 
 
 XXII. MR. RIVERS ATTEMPTS SOME TRICKS 171 
 
 2228415
 
 iv CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXIII. HALF-CONFIDENCES 178 
 
 XXIV. A SUPERIOR PERSON ....... 186 
 
 xxv. MELIA RECEIVES VISITORS ...... 193 
 
 XXVI. CONCERNING VARIOUS TOASTS . 200 
 
 XXVII. PIPES AND PATIENCE ....... 206 
 
 xxvui. THIEF! .......... 210 
 
 xxix. SEEING PAPA! ........ 215 
 
 XXX. FATHER AND SON ....... . 223 
 
 XXXI. A OITTRANCE ......... 230 
 
 xxxn. MELIA HAS A NEW CUSTOMER ..... 237 
 
 XXXIII. AI> AVI8ANDUM ........ 241 
 
 XXXIV. MINISTERING TO A MINI) DISEASED .... 247 
 XXXV. LABOR IN VAIN ........ 256 
 
 XXXVI. MR. PETERS MAKES A PROMISE ..... 260 
 
 XXXVII. VOX, ET PRvtTEREA NIHIL !...... 267 
 
 XXXVIII. AFTER-EFFECTS ........ 275 
 
 XXXIX. MR. PETERS MAKES MORE MOVES THAN ONE . . . 279 
 
 XL. THE TROUBLES OF MADGE MURRAY AND MRS. JIMPS . 293 
 
 Xl.I. CANDIDUM SORACTE ....... 300 
 
 XLII. FOR LOVE. ......... 310 
 
 XLIII. CHRISTMAS PRESENTS ....... 315 
 
 XLIV. UNDER EXAMINATION 323 
 
 XLV. DUDDINGSTON LOCH ....... 327 
 
 XLVI. CALLED BACK ........ 334 
 
 XLVII. NEW YEAR AT THE TRON ...... 337 
 
 \1.\ III. QUEM DEUS VULT PERDERE ...... 344 
 
 XL1X. GOOD-BY . . . . . . . . . 352 
 
 L. CONCERNING A LITTLE ACCOUNT ... . 360
 
 CONTENTS v 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 LI. A DREAM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES ..... 366 
 
 LII. A WILD GOOSE CHASE ....... 372 
 
 LIII. MR. PETERS WINS AND LOSES ...... 376 
 
 LIV. A FATHER S FAREWELL . . ..... 383 
 
 LV. NELL KEEPS THE SHOP ....... 392 
 
 LVI. A SONG, A JOURNEY, AND A VOYAGE ..... 397
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 THE ARRIVAL OF MR. PETERS . . . Frontispiece. 
 
 " i SHA N T SHAKE HANDS " Facing page no 
 
 "HIS CLERKS FOUND PETERS AT HIS SIDE TRYING 
 
 TO REVIVE HIM " 274 
 
 "THE MAN IN THE CHAIR WAS SILENT FOR A 
 
 MOMENT " " 402
 
 MR. PETERS 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 THE rapidly rising town of Bonville, IT. S. A., was about 
 to prove its hatred of law-breakers by taking the law into its 
 own hands. It was also prepared to mark its recognition of 
 the sacred laws of hospitality by giving a stranger and a 
 foreigner a handsome swinging. In spite of the late hour 
 and the darkness, the citizens of Bonville had forsaken 
 whiskey-saloons and quiet card-parties, feeling that whiskey 
 and euchre were always with them, but a horse-thief, once 
 hanged, could not be relied upon for further entertainment. 
 
 He had been opportunely met by the Sheriff, caught red- 
 handed, so to speak, riding one of the two stolen horses and 
 leading the other. The Sheriff had tried to get his prisoner 
 quietly away to the nearest jail, Bonville having none. But 
 they were Bonville horses that had been stolen, and when 
 the citizens of Bonville heard of the Sheriff s intention, a 
 sufficient number of them crossed his path, some six miles 
 out, and, by unanswerable argument, persuaded that stout 
 and conscientious little man that Bonville could and would 
 attend to her own affairs. The Sheriff now watched the 
 progress of these affairs, rueful and carefully guarded, spit 
 ting now and then in contemptuous disgust as he saw how 
 things went. They went badly for the prisoner. He had
 
 2 MR. PETERS 
 
 been found in the hands of the Sheriff, who could not deny, 
 though he would not own, that he had acted because he 
 knew the stolen horses. 
 
 The judge, a lean, long man, sitting in a buggy, with a 
 rifle across his knees, pointed out to the jury, who clustered 
 in a wagon that had been unhorsed and deprived of its tilt, 
 that this was not contradicted, and, what was still more im 
 portant, that the prisoner could give no satisfactory ex 
 planation in spite of the help given to him by their able and 
 eloquent fellow-townsman, Mr. Joshua Buncombe. True, 
 the prisoner, a tall, long-bearded Swiss from one of the 
 Italian Cantons, could speak only his own language and a 
 little French, but Mr. Buncombe translated for him and to 
 him with a rapidity, a feverish fluency, which testified both 
 to his powers and to his eager and anxious sympathy. 
 
 " Whar did he git them hosses?" asked the judge, and 
 the prisoner s answer, which was a long one, was evidently 
 unsatisfactory to his friendly interpreter and advocate. 
 
 " Speak up! " a juryman told him. " Say it as he says it, 
 and don t stop to patch up," and this being evidently the 
 popular feeling, Mr. Buncombe spoke. 
 
 " Gentlemen, he says that he found them. On my honor, 
 gentlemen, I believe him." 
 
 A roar of laughter greeted this profession of faith. 
 
 "Does anyone know the man?" asked the judge. 
 
 No one knew him. He was thirty miles away and head 
 ing for the next county when the Sheriff, coming home 
 from another errand, had met him. Not a bar loafer or 
 farmer recognized him. The man was clearly a marauder. 
 
 " Where does he come from? " 
 
 Again question, translation answer and translation, the 
 translation always, owing to Mr. Buncombe s linguistic 
 ability, much more concise than the prisoner s explanation. 
 
 " Sweet Springs." 
 
 Again a howl went up, for Bonville lay between Sweet
 
 PROLOGUE 3 
 
 Springs and the spot where prisoner and booty had been 
 found together. 
 
 " Did he come by here? " 
 
 The prisoner, frowning this way and that as the jeer rip 
 pled round him, waited, haggard, for the question, and his 
 answer was long. 
 
 Again his protector hesitated and stammered, and again 
 he was urged to speak out quickly, lest, it was even sug 
 gested, he should find a place beside his client. 
 
 With a shrug of his shoulders, and an action as if washing 
 his hands of the whole thing, the answer came. 
 
 " He passed through last night, he says, and saw no one." 
 
 " Nor wanted to, I guess," remarked the judge, and from 
 that moment he seemed to pay less attention to the proceed 
 ings, letting his eye rove among the branches of the tree 
 under which the prisoner stood. 
 
 The case was clear to those who listened. 
 
 There were the two horses for all to see; a gray mare and 
 a chestnut gelding, with a white star and a white stocking, 
 going lame when met, recognized by the Sheriff, now 
 claimed by the owner. There was the man who was found 
 trotting them away, meaning to get rid of them as, no doubt, 
 he had got rid of the other six which, always in couples, 
 had gone during the last few months. 
 
 Mr. Hector Inch, a young Scotsman recently arrived from 
 the mother country, stating the evidence for the prosecu 
 tion, and anxious to show his neighborly sympathy for the 
 horses owner, pressed these points and more also. 
 
 "Let them look," he told them, with a long, accusing fore 
 finger pointed at the prisoner, " and judge if that was the 
 face of an innocent man ! " 
 
 The jury looked, the outside audience looked, and the 
 prisoner, shifting his restless eyes from one face to another, 
 moved uneasily in his place. While the citizens of Bon- 
 ville had persuaded the Sheriff, they had also man-handled
 
 4 Mil. PETERS 
 
 the prisoner, and he showed marks of it. His clothes, 
 shabby before, were tattered now, his face was bruised, his 
 mouth swollen and cut. He blinked in the flare of the pine- 
 knots, looking very like a wild animal dragged from the 
 darkness against its will, and a surly hum running through 
 the crowd told the orator that his audience was with him. 
 His blood stirred at the sound, as it had been used to stir 
 when he gained the applause of the Philomathic Society in 
 his gray native city. 
 
 When he lashed himself into further denunciation, it was 
 applause he spoke for and thought of, not a man s life. He 
 ended with trite words on tempering justice with mercy, but 
 if there had been any hope for the wondering, uncompre 
 hending prisoner, there was now no more. 
 
 The judge, recalled by the silence from his meditation, 
 brought his eyes down from their speculative wanderings 
 among the branches, and asked if the prisoner had anything 
 to say. His interpreter replied hurriedly that the prisoner 
 begged for mercy; whereat the stout little Sheriff spat once 
 more and cursed under his breath. 
 
 The judge, grinning sourly, took a quid from a neighbor, 
 told the jury to consider their verdict, and, beckoning to 
 one of the crowd, whispered in his ear and sent him away 
 into the shadows beyond the circle of light made by the 
 pine-knots. 
 
 The young fellow who had prosecuted stood with a 
 pleased smile, and listened to the rough compliments of 
 those by him. The prisoner glanced about uneasily, and 
 then, turning, asked a question of the interpreter. He, 
 however, had moved off, and was now haunting the shadows, 
 flitting from place to place as men noticed him, and wiping 
 his pale, sweating face with his coat-sleeve. The jury did 
 not retire, having no particular place to retire to, nor did 
 they take long to consider. 
 
 " Guilty " was the verdict, given unanimously in less than
 
 PROLOGUE 5 
 
 five minutes, and the interpreter mopped his face again in 
 the shadows as he heard it, while the prisoner stood waiting 
 and wondering what would come next. The man Inch 
 who had spoken against him stepped a little forward, with a 
 jaunty air of self-satisfaction. 
 
 " That being the case, sir, I propose that a little of your 
 well-known local remedy of tar and feathers will be given 
 to this gentleman, and that then he be handed over to the 
 recognized law." 
 
 He pointed, laughing, to the Sheriff, but the judge, 
 scarcely moving, caught his eye, and pointed to the branch 
 directly over the prisoner s head. There crouched the man 
 to whom the judge had spoken while the jury consulted, and 
 presently a rope uncoiled from above and hung swaying and 
 serpent-like from the bough. 
 
 "Not that! My God, not that!" 
 
 Inch s voice rang out, startled and entreating, and the 
 prisoner, turning sharply to him, followed his glance and 
 looked upward. 
 
 The next moment the prisoner had leapt silently at the 
 nearest neighbor, bearing him down by the suddenness and 
 fury of his attack, and was struggling to get the man s re 
 volver between his roped hands. The attack was as useless 
 as it was savage, and two minutes later he was hauled to his 
 feet and stood breathless, but gasping broken words in his 
 unknown tongue, while a revolver pressed hard against each 
 ear. 
 
 They noosed his neck, and bringing up the gray mare 
 which he had ridden, they made her stand, and hauled on 
 the rope and set him upon her back. 
 
 " Now ye can pray, sonny, if you know how," said one. 
 " She s onstiddy, and that s straight !" remarked the mare s 
 owner, peering up at him. " A touch of the heel will start 
 her, I reckon. So long ! " and he strolled slowly away. 
 
 The light now flickered around the tree some twenty
 
 6 MR. PETERS 
 
 yards off. The moon was rising, and her rays fell pale on 
 the man s face. Sitting erect, he could just feel the pres 
 sure of the rope tightening as the mare pricked up her ears 
 and stamped uneasily, whinnying to her stable companion. 
 Then the man, staring at the moon wide-eyed, began mut 
 tering to himself, and presently burst into a low vacant 
 laugh . 
 
 " Darn the skunk," muttered the judge, shifting his rifle; 
 " what s the fool laughing at now ? If he don t shift that 
 mare for himself, I guess I will," but the man was singing, 
 in his own tongue, a song he had heard years ago among his 
 own people, and stared at the moon all the time : 
 
 Oh! cold and pale 
 My mistress wanders 
 O er hill and dale, 
 And nig-htl3 r ponders 
 On all things else in earth and sky 
 But me, who love her till I die. 
 Oh! pale and cold. 
 
 There was a flash from among the shadows, and the crack 
 of a revolver. The gray mare, startled at the whistle of the 
 bullet as it flew by to bury itself in the tree, winced and 
 broke away at a gallop. Her burden, jerked from the sad 
 dle, twisted convulsively to and fro, a mark for more bullets, 
 as the revolvers of the crowd were emptied. Presently it 
 swung with pendulum-like regularity, and at last, slowing 
 down, hung motionless, the face, twisted into the semblance 
 of a mocking smile, still turned to the quiet moon. 
 
 There was a sigh, which might be of content at work well 
 done, and the crowd was scattering, when a fresh comer, a 
 small, wiry, gray-bearded man, cantered up. 
 
 " Well, sonnies, what s the fun now ? " 
 
 " Lynching," said the nearest man, briefly, and nodded 
 toward the tree and its dead fruit. 
 
 " T swar ! " ejaculated the little man, rising in his stir-
 
 PROLOGUE 7 
 
 rups and peering across. " Who s the fool, and what s he 
 done ? " 
 
 " Furriner ; sneaked Joe Brown s hosses last night." 
 
 The rider dropped back into his saddle and trotted gently 
 through the moving crowd to satisfy his curiosity, but in a 
 minute he was back again, calling to the man who had an 
 swered him: 
 
 " Miners ! where are ye ? " 
 
 Miners halted in his track with a grunt and waited. 
 
 " When did you say he stole em ? " 
 
 " Last night." 
 
 The little gray man sat and thought slowly, with his hand 
 on the other s shoulder, so that he should not go. At last 
 he spoke with great deliberation. 
 
 " I was with that chap last night from, lemme see, nine 
 o clock till sunrise ; yes, I was. If these hosses was stole 
 last night, why you ve hung the wrong man ! " 
 
 " Shucks ! " retorted the other, loudly, so loudly that 
 those who were still about drew near and listened. 
 
 " From nine till sunrise," the gray man repeated, after 
 refreshing his memory, " me and him [and he jerked his 
 thumb at the tree] was side by side." 
 
 One or two, cursing loudly, ran toward the tree, the rest 
 crushed close round the gray man, who sat still. 
 
 " Taint no manner of use," he said, " you re sich durned 
 fine shots, some o you boys, that there s two bullets through 
 his head, anyway. I ve seen that," and he sat thinking, 
 while a babel of tongues rose all about. 
 
 " I didn t know any of you gents could parley-vous," he 
 said at last, raising his voice and speaking loudly. " I can a 
 bit, and I had all the world s trouble to make him out. How 
 did you work it ? " 
 
 " Buncombe spoke for him," chorused a dozen voices. 
 " Did it fine, too," said one, and there was a loud " hear ! 
 hear ! " to that.
 
 8 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Who nabbed him ? " 
 
 " Tom Fraser; leading the horses he was, and heading 
 straight away." 
 
 u What in thunder did Tom bring him here for ? " de 
 manded the astonished catechiser. There was a silence, 
 and then " He was fetched ! " 
 
 " Fetched, was he ? " The man s temper was rising, and 
 there was as much sarcasm as his voice could throw into the 
 question. " What made you fetch him ? " 
 
 " Buncombe happened to say in Sadler s bar that he d 
 seen Fraser heading across to Terenceville," said one man 
 sulkily, after a pause; " and some of the boys allowed we 
 could see to these things ourselves, and went out." 
 
 " Hope you re satisfied," snarled the gray man. " Where s 
 Buncombe ? I want to see him badly." But Buncombe 
 was not to be seen, though Bonville searched for him that 
 night, and for many days and nights after. He had drawn 
 a freer breath as soon as he knew further interpreting was 
 not necessary, and that his client was silent for ever. He 
 had been close by the newcomer when that inquisitive indi 
 vidual had started his questions, near him when he came 
 back from his first look at the dead man, but what he heard 
 then sent him into the shadows again, and he was riding for 
 his miserable life five minutes later, thinking every moment 
 that he heard the lynchers upon his heels, and seeing a dead 
 man grin and swing from every bough. 
 
 The next day saw the little gray man, who had so dis 
 turbed the self-appointed law-givers, mount again and ride, 
 grim and meditative, to Sweet Springs, the merest germ of 
 another township, twelve miles away. By his side, unwill 
 ing and remonstrant, rode one of the last night s crowd, who 
 had, however, taken no active part a lank, foolish youth 
 who disliked his errand and said so. 
 
 " I dunno what to say," he repeated for the twentieth 
 time, as they slackened pace within sight of a small newly
 
 PROLOGUE 9 
 
 built house. The little gray man gave him practically the 
 answer he had given twenty times before. 
 
 " I don t keer," he said, staring towards the house, and 
 shading his eyes with one hand. " That s the good of you, 
 Jerry. I want someone by to see that I do the straight 
 thing, an to hear me talk. T other chaps d chip in and 
 tell their own story, an mebbe their s an mine d get mixed. 
 You stand by an see me do the thing square; an if you 
 must speak, just foller my lead. I ve had a deal to do with 
 mares in my time." 
 
 They were now drawing up at the door. 
 
 The small man threw himself out of the saddle, lifting 
 down a canvas bag that was balanced over the pommel, and 
 rapped gently on the door with his whip-handle. Then he 
 turned his head, clearing his throat in a dry nervous way, 
 and found the younger man still mounted. 
 
 " What the hell are you doin ? " he blazed out; " climb 
 down an be ready." 
 
 " The hosses ! " explained the young man feebly, but his 
 senior merely snarled, and was proceeding in highly colored 
 language to condemn him and all his works when the door 
 opened. 
 
 The woman who stood and looked at them from one to 
 the other, was tall, handsome, and dark. A low, broad brow 
 frowned a little anxiously over dark, melancholy eyes. Her 
 aquiline nose and strong, rounded chin gave a masculine 
 strength to the face, which full, red lips could not overcome. 
 An olive-skinned youngster, a boy perhaps ten years old, 
 peeped under her arm. After a moment she seemed to 
 recognize the older man, and, drawing back, motioned him 
 to come in, which he did when sure that the other was going 
 to follow him. Seated on the edge of a chair in a clean 
 room, that showed nothing of the ornamental except a big 
 bunch of grasses and wild flowers, the little man held tight 
 to his canvas bag and cleared his throat again loudly, one
 
 10 MR. PETERS 
 
 finger thrust between neck and shirt-collar as if he felt the 
 need of more room. 
 
 " You ll know our talk, 1 reckon/ he said at last, politely, 
 " leastways so I ve heard, which your good man didn t." 
 
 The woman, watching him from where she stood by the 
 little rough, unpolished table, nodded. 
 
 " My husband does not understand. I do." 
 
 " Course he doesn t now/ the little man agreed hur 
 riedly. " That is, p r aps he does. I m no hand at these 
 things. Twould have been more use to him yesterday may 
 be, / think anyway." 
 
 " What came yesterday ? " asked the woman. 
 
 " He took ill after I left him." 
 
 " And ? " said the woman, steadying herself against 
 
 the table. 
 
 " He died, ma am, among strangers. A hard thing for 
 you to hear and for me to tell, I do assure you." 
 
 The suddenness of the stroke seemed to paralyze sensa 
 tion. The woman gasped and looked round her in a dazed 
 silence, while the man hurried on. 
 
 " He had a good deal of money about him, as no doubt 
 you ll know," he said, pleased at his own brilliant imagina 
 tion, for the dead man had only four or five dollars. " An 
 when 1 turned up, as I did before he was buried, an the 
 folk heard the lay of tilings, they sent the hat round, an me 
 an him (here he jerked his head back at his silent and star 
 ing junior) guv our word as how we d bring the best respecs 
 of the rest, and ask you to low them to put their little pile, 
 as they did, to what your man had about him." 
 
 With that he stepped up to the table where the woman 
 was, and, untying the string and taking the bag by the 
 corners, he emptied its contents carefully out. He had 
 spent the night in collecting this money from the peniient 
 men of Bonville, and in conducting a hurried but effective 
 funeral. He now stepped back a pace, with a little sigh of
 
 PROLOGUE 11 
 
 relief, feeling that, whatever might come of this matter- 
 when all was known, his share in it was creditably ended. 
 
 The woman s eyes rested dully upon the pile of coins, and 
 gave little sign of feeling. 
 
 " My man ! " she said, " where is he ? " 
 
 " We gave him a big funeral this mornin ," said the man, 
 " miles, miles from this, in the sweetest gully you ever sot 
 eyes on, but it is a terrible place to get at, an if I was you 
 I d let him be, and get away to my friends. If I can help 
 you to that, Joe Flinders is my name, and Bonville City 
 will find me any day next week that you send a message. 
 I ll come over, with a boy or two, to get yer things together." 
 
 He looked round to see if a boy or two would be enough 
 for the business, and came to the conclusion that they 
 would not be overworked. After this he said good-day and 
 went out, followed by the other, but came back directly 
 alone, and spoke again. 
 
 " As I said, missus, he had a tremendous funeral, I give 
 the boys credit for that, an I d made tracks, I tell you; but 
 I promised Sheriff Thomas Fraser to say that, if you must 
 see a man who was by him when he died, you must go to 
 him. He ain t bent on seein ye, but he holds himself in 
 duty bound to be ready to answer questions. But you be a 
 good soul, an start for home." 
 
 The woman sat down with some word of thanks, staring 
 quietly at the floor. The man turned, and, going out, 
 swung himself into the saddle and broke at once into a gal 
 lop, watched by the child from the open door. 
 
 "Didn t seem much put. about," said the younger man 
 when they rode level again, but the other shook his head 
 dubiously. 
 
 " She looks I-talian," he remarked, " which her man 
 wasn t." 
 
 He pulled up at another door, and, hailing the woman of 
 the house, told her to look up her neighbor.
 
 12 MR. PETERS 
 
 "She s struck silly," he went on, as they broke away again, 
 "but she ll come to. Then she ll feel, an may be others will, 
 if she can make em. She ll want to know more of this." 
 
 That proved true. A day or two later the woman inter 
 viewed the Sheriff, and heard what he could tell her. She 
 was still quiet, but with a difference, the difference between 
 a dead fire and a smouldering fuse. 
 
 " I can t git all Bonville City hanged, ma am, for this 
 business. If I could I believe I would at times. The worst 
 of em s got clean away, an that s Buncombe. I d string 
 him up if I cud ketch him, but I ll have no sicli luck ! " 
 
 " Buncombe? " said the woman, carefully. 
 
 " Buncombe; that s the man. Seems he did the stealin 
 first, an then got your man mixed up in it, though how he 
 did that I dunno. Then, as he did the parleyvooin at what 
 the chaps called the trial, the Lord only knows what lies he 
 told. An though you may say in a way that your man was 
 hanged, yet, in a way, he was shot, which we count more 
 decent an respectable. But two of the boys swear that it 
 was Buncombe who fired the first shot, being anxious to git 
 it done. 
 
 By his mother s side stood the boy, quietly munching an 
 apple which the Sheriff had found for him. The woman 
 turned and spoke earnestly in Italian, while the boy lis 
 tened. She finished with the word " Buncombe," and he 
 repeated it, at first incorrectly, then well, while the Sheriff 
 wondered what was being said. 
 
 " Then, too," he went on, when the woman finished with 
 the boy and turned to him again, " there s another bit 
 o comfort I can give ye, and I ll allow, missus, that you ll 
 need it all. Your man was light-headed an light-hearted 
 in consequence, when he came to his end. He died singin , 
 as you may say, bein clean mad; though I ve no head for 
 music an can t tell you the tune," lie added regretfully. 
 
 But the boy, who had finished his apple and was listening
 
 PROLOGUE 13 
 
 with his big black eyes fixed upon the Sheriff s weather- 
 beaten face, began to hum quietly and the man whipped 
 round upon him. 
 
 "That s the tune, sonny; you ve hit it fair and square! 
 Good Lord ! " he added, turning to the woman again, " I 
 didn t calc late on the kid s understanding all this ! " 
 
 " He must understand," the woman said in a dull way. 
 
 " He s a bright chappie, ^ the Sheriff told her, admiringly; 
 " he ll be a comfort and a help to you later on, missus." 
 
 " Yes," the woman answered, " I shall want help," and 
 she rose to go as she spoke. 
 
 " The man who spoke against him was Inch/ she said. 
 
 " That was the man," the Sheriff admitted. " But, mind 
 you, that chap didn t know where he was landing. Tar an 
 feathers was in his mind, an nothin more. We can t touch 
 him I reckon, missus ! " 
 
 But the woman was scarcely listening. She had turned 
 to the boy again. " Inch," she said, " Inch," and the boy 
 repeated the name after her. Then she went away, a strong, 
 noticeable figure, with the silent, quick-eyed youngster at 
 her side. The men of Bonville, guessing who she was as 
 she left the Sheriff s house and moved down the street, 
 mostly disappeared if they saw her soon enough. Where 
 she came upon them unawares, they looked skyward or 
 earthward, and remained contemplative until she had gone 
 by. But she hardly noticed them. As she went she con 
 stantly repeated to the boy those two names, " Buncombe " 
 and " Inch." He said these two after her, and a third that 
 she had taught him to link with them, " stai," or " wait." 
 
 Folk wondered what would follow upon this visit, but a 
 few days later the woman and her boy again disappeared, 
 without any help from the well-intentioned Joe Flinders. 
 Soon, as the population shifted and changed, these things 
 were forgotten by Bonville City, or only vaguely remem 
 bered when a stranger made inquiries about what was 
 known as the Gallows tree. So twenty-five years rolled by.
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MRS. JIMPS PAYING GUEST 
 
 MRS. JIMPS was expecting another Paying Guest, and 
 therefore, as usual, she was nervous. Her House of Resi 
 dence, as she chose to call her house in a familiar Edinburgh 
 street, usually held four Paying Guests, and in the tourist 
 season had been known to take eight, because Mrs. Jimps 
 didn t like to refuse old friends, and knew very well that 
 they wouldn t be comfortable anywhere else. 
 
 No chef in any Princes Street hotel could send in better 
 omelettes and such like trifles than could fat Maggie, the 
 cook. Her scones, porridge, haggis and cocky-leekie were 
 also beyond reproach, and when Maggie raised up her shrill 
 voice against " our Annie," the quick, pert table-maid, Mrs. 
 Jimps, if possible, shut the double doors and gave them the 
 kitchen to themselves until the thunder-clouds had melted 
 into tears, valuing her domestics too highly for needless 
 interference. 
 
 Mrs. Jimps, however, though prudent, was no coward, 
 and when her tall, black-robed figure swept into the kitchen 
 Maggie usually bestowed her wrath upon the kitchen fire, or 
 maybe broke a plate, but abstained from words, while " our 
 Annie " would suddenly recollect that a bedroom needed 
 " sorting." 
 
 Nevertheless, to-night, Mrs. Jimps was nervous. Ro 
 mance does not always lose its charm, as young people sup 
 pose, at forty, and she was barely that. Moreover, under a 
 manner of great dignity and some reserve, Mrs. Jimps hid 
 an impressionable heart, which always asserted itself on the 
 advent of a male stranger. Her new Paying Guest was a 
 
 14
 
 MRS. JIMPS PAYING GUEST 15 
 
 
 
 Mr. Peters, coming from the Continent, and recommended 
 by a former lodger (I apologize, I mean Paying Guest). 
 
 Mr. Peters was already overdue. Mrs. Jimps, in a stiff, 
 white widow s cap, had fluttered for a quarter of an hour 
 between her own little sitting-room and the room set apart 
 for Mr. Peters, and was about to flutter up the stair again, 
 when the house-door bell sounded with a sudden jerk. Mr. 
 Peters had arrived. 
 
 First there was the banging of a heavy trunk in the hall, 
 followed by a second. 
 
 Mrs. Jimps, hesitating between dignity and curiosity, 
 loitered behind her door. 
 
 Then came the clink of silver as the fare was paid, and 
 then an astonished and contemptuous " Eh, what mon," 
 from the cabby. 
 
 He said no more. Mr. Peters was, audibly, equal to the 
 occasion. A deep strong voice repeated his number sonor 
 ously, the owner of the voice evidently making a note of it. 
 
 " Two shillings I have given you, my best fellow," the 
 voice went on, " and one shilling and ninepence is your fare. 
 Here is my card also. Shall we meet to-morrow at your 
 procurator-fiscal s ? " 
 
 A word or two of choice blasphemy from the man, and 
 the voice rose again. 
 
 " Will you swear before this young lady, my friend ? 
 Outside is best," and with that there was a short scuffle, and 
 the door banged upon the astonished Jehu. 
 
 " Bring me now to Mrs. Jimps," and " our Annie," her 
 face still wreathed with the smiles called up by Mr. Peters 
 delicate respect for her gentility, ushered him into the room. 
 
 Mrs. Jimps saw bowing before her a man upon whom she 
 would have looked twice anywhere. 
 
 He was tall and swarthy, dark-eyed and clean shaven. 
 His age was really only thirty-five, but his large, well-shaped 
 features were rather fat and had an air of immovable and
 
 16 MR. PETERS 
 
 sphinx-like calm that seemed the mark of an older man. 
 As he bent over Mrs. Jimps hand now, his face was unalter 
 ably solemn. Later, when Mrs. Jimps began to watch, she 
 found that Mr. Peters laughed often the laugh of an easy 
 going, big, strong man but she never saw him smile. 
 When he spoke he watched her intently, and his big smooth 
 voice filled the room and was easily heard by the attentive 
 Annie outside. 
 
 " So this," he said, " is Mrs. Jimps ! " 
 
 Mrs. Jimps bowed, feeling, as she acknowledged to herself 
 afterwards, in a bit of a flutter under those unwinking black 
 eyes. 
 
 " Now I am aware," he said solemnly, " that friend Ber 
 gen is a man of taste." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," murmured Mrs. Jimps. " I don t 
 follow you." 
 
 " Friend Bergen pictured to me my hostess, madam. I 
 said, ( It is too much ! Now I say, It is not enough. 
 
 " Really these foreign gentlemen have a way with them ! " 
 So Mrs. Jimps thought, and her manner softened to an ex 
 tent that surprised herself. 
 
 " We are not accustomed to such compliments here, Mr. 
 Peters." 
 
 " Ah, excuse a foreigner, madam," and he turned. 
 
 In the hall there was much thumping and bumping. As 
 Mr. Peters threw the door open, Annie was revealed outside, 
 red-cheeked and breathless, but tugging manfully at his box 
 which she had scarcely got half-way to his room. 
 
 " So, you cannot manage that ! See "and he picked 
 up the box; then, seeing its fellow, picked that up too, and 
 marched contentedly up the stair, while Annie meekly fol 
 lowed, wondering whether her " young man," a corporal of 
 dragoons, could do the like so easily, and very much doubted 
 it. 
 
 Meanwhile Mrs. Jimp? stood in her own little room, and
 
 MRS. JIMPS PAYING GUEST 17 
 
 composed her face to the dignified expression it usually 
 wore. She looked at the mirror over the mantel-piece, and 
 wondered what Friend Bergen had said of her. Presently 
 she began to wonder, too, whether everything was comfort 
 able upstairs, and whether she should go up and ask for her 
 self. This was quite unprecedented. Mrs. Jimps had 
 great faith in the power of appearances, and studied them 
 carefully, not believing, as she put it, in making herself too 
 cheap. But here was a gentleman who knew how to behave, 
 and who must be shown that manners were not lacking in 
 Edinburgh, so she made a sudden and noiseless appearance 
 at the door of Mr. Peters sitting-room, to the intense sur 
 prise of " our Annie." 
 
 When that young person was startled in the presence 
 of a male, or thought that she ought to be, she invariably 
 shrieked. It showed that her organization was just as sensi 
 tive as that of a real lady who never put her hand to any 
 thing heavier than a novel. So she shrieked now, and Mr. 
 Peters, who was bending over one of his trunks, turned, 
 though with deliberation, not being easily startled, and 
 faced Mrs. Jimps. 
 
 " I only came," said Mrs. Jimps, wondering at the sound 
 of her own voice, " to see if everything was comfortable." 
 
 Mr. Peters, bowing solemnly, waved his hand to compre 
 hend all. 
 
 " Everything," he said briefly, and stood as if waiting for 
 her to speak further, or to go. Mrs. Jimps, anxious, as she 
 told herself, to understand her Paying Guest, tried to decide 
 which he wanted, and could not. The black eyes were 
 steady and unwinking and expressionless, the big figure 
 simply quiet. 
 
 " You will want some supper," she suggested, but Mr. 
 Peters shook his head energetically. 
 
 "Some coffee," he told her, " and a great smoke presently. 
 That is nil."
 
 18 MR. PETERS 
 
 kt 1 will make the coffee at once myself," said Mrs. Jimps, 
 at which Mr. Peters laughed loudly and without restraint, 
 throwing back his head, with wide open mouth, showing a 
 regular and strong set of teeth. 
 
 " There is no one in all Edinburgh shall make my coffee," 
 he announced. " Would I poison myself ? No ! The fire 
 here shall be lit, and the water, fresh and cold, look you, 
 shall be brought, and I will make my own coffee now and al 
 ways." 
 
 The idea of having his coffee made for him seemed 
 hugely amusing. The man went off into laughter again, 
 until, through sheer infection, Annie began to choke 
 and to giggle ; and Mrs. Jimps, her cheeks gradually 
 flushing to flame, threw her such a look that she retreated 
 hastily. 
 
 Mrs. Jimps stood biting her lip, obviously put out, and 
 Mr. Peters must have noticed it, for he stopped laughing 
 and spoke again. 
 
 " You shall make me your porridge and your haggis, and 
 I will presently try your whiskey," he promised, " but your 
 coffee, No ! " 
 
 With that Mrs. Jimps, not knowing what to say, had to be 
 content. She went down, and, easing her mind consider 
 ably to Annie and Maggie in the kitchen, sent up water and 
 ground coffee. 
 
 This provoked another explosion from above, and the 
 coffee came back. Presently there stole through the house 
 the aroma of roasting berries, then the distant sound of a 
 coffee-mill. After that there was peace in Mr. Peters part 
 of the house until, just as Mrs. Jimps was making her 
 nightly round, candle in hand, with Annie in attendance, 
 there came a crash and the clatter of broken glass far down 
 in the street below. To Mrs. Jimps thumps at his door, 
 and her agonized entreaties to be told what had happened, 
 her Paying Guest made answer at last. He opened the door
 
 MRS. JIMPS PAYING GUEST 19 
 
 wide and appeared in a dressing-gown, and apparently little 
 else, with a fresh-lit cigarette between his lips. 
 
 " How you did frighten us, Mr. Peters ! What has hap 
 pened ? " 
 
 Annie gasped incoherently in the back-ground while Mrs. 
 Jimps put this reasonable question, and Mr. Peters sur 
 veyed them curiously. 
 
 " Your so damnable windows," he said, " will not open 
 above. I must have air, and I have therefore broken two. 
 That is all. Good sleep to you," and with that he bowed 
 and shut the door in their faces before Mrs. Jimps had re 
 covered from the combined effect of his costume and his 
 comminatory adjective. Later, she found that, in what she 
 carefully explained to the two servants was his foreign way, 
 he used such words more often than her Paying Guests 
 usually did. It was with him no sign of anger or any other 
 feeling. He merely made his conversation picturesque 
 therewith, when he thought the words expressed hi mean 
 ing best. In the future, one supposes, they may be left to 
 the time-honored imagination of our dear readers. 
 
 After this episode Mrs. Jimps household was quiet, and, 
 let us hope, slept.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 MB. PETERS PKESENTS A LETTER OF INTRODUCTION 
 
 IF you were to do as Mr. Peters did on the morning after 
 his arrival in Edinburgh, and take a car from the General 
 Post Office down Leith Walk, you would find your surround 
 ings very quickly, indeed immediately, changed. From Ed 
 inburgh, aristocratic, professional, and academic, you are 
 moving towards her money-making mercantile sister, Leith. 
 If Edinburgh is wedded to wisdom (as some of her inhabi 
 tants fondly suppose), and if Leith has married money (as 
 she is popularly declared to have done), it is natural that 
 you should see differences, and natural, perhaps, that their 
 close relationship should emphasize the occasionally ex 
 changed sneer. As you roll away down the hill, you see at 
 once that Leith means business, and sticks to it, in business 
 like offices and in great warehouses, with whiffs of the salt 
 sea to keep her wide awake, and weather-beaten sea-captains 
 and strange, foreign, and seafaring men to keep her in touch 
 with other lands. Perhaps these things, and the battered 
 storm-wrecked ships that come panting into harbor, like 
 spent swimmers, serve to keep some men soft-hearted in 
 spite of bargaining, and with something of the child s won 
 dering appreciation of the wonderful world that many of us 
 rather yawn over at middle age. Let us leave Mr. Peters, 
 impassive and imperturbable, but noticing most things from 
 the top of his tram-car, and make our way before him to the 
 Leith office of Mr. Moriarty, Swedish Consul, and a keen 
 man of business, but with something of those less business 
 like qualities we have hinted at above. 
 
 Work just now is slack with Mr. Moriarty, and he is en-
 
 A LETTER OF INTRODUCTION 21 
 
 gaged in what, for him, combines business with pleasure. 
 Watch him now, as with a pencil viciously nipped between 
 his teeth, he rolls his eye ceiling-ward, following a fly as 
 though it possessed the thing that he longed for. The fly, 
 after some gyrations, pops out at the open window, and Mr. 
 Moriarty says " Darnee ! " not unkindly, but with a pensive 
 melancholy, having thereby lost the thread of his ideas. 
 
 He looks ruefully at the sheet of paper before him, and 
 turns over some leaves of the dictionary at his elbow. The 
 fringe of stiff, sturdy hair that stands on end, circling a 
 bullet head and bald pate, bristles more than ever with the 
 agonies of composition. What this elderly and highly 
 respected merchant is at, we must find out some other time, 
 for a stranger s voice is heard in the outer office, and Mr. 
 Moriarty listens. " The young blagyard ! " he mutters, as 
 the youngest clerk, announcing him as disengaged, can be 
 heard bringing the stranger in, and dictionary and paper 
 disappear in the nearest drawer as Mr. Peters is announced. 
 
 He came in with his usual air of polite solemnity, and, 
 bowing in silence, presented his card and a letter together. 
 
 Mr. Moriarty, looking at him over the top of his glasses, 
 waved his hand towards a chair, and opened the letter. 
 
 It was a formal note, introducing the bearer, Giuseppe 
 Peters, " referred to in my former letter of the 16th Aug 
 ust," and signed Olaf Bergen. 
 
 Mr. Moriarty, whose face was fast losing the fierce ex 
 pression with which he had greeted his imprudent clerk, 
 opened a letter-clip, and took a letter in the same writing 
 from it. 
 
 " Hm-m," he read, " Consignment of pine ISTo, no, 
 Chat s not it," and then he found the passage he wanted. 
 
 " I also consign to your kindness, my good Moriarty, a 
 what-you-call second-cousin of mine, Giuseppe Peters, of 
 late visiting these parts from America, who tells me that he 
 has family affairs to settle in your city. Do what you can
 
 22 MR PETERS 
 
 for him on my part, my good Moriarty, and let him try that 
 very particular whiskey. You will find that he has the 
 head of a man. Th chap hasn t forgotten that whiskey 
 yet," chuckled Mr. Moriarty, as delighted as if he had never 
 read the passage before, and, rising from his chair, beamed 
 upon the attentive Peters. 
 
 " You re welcome to Leith, and to all that I can do for 
 you in it, Mr. Peters. What can I do for you now ? " He 
 held out his hand and shook the other man s heartily 
 enough, and the latter, rising from his chair with another 
 grave bow, gave him such a grip in exchange that Mr. Mori 
 arty surveyed his own fingers with some amazement, almost 
 siirprised to find them in their place. " Man ! ye ve the 
 divil s own fist," he remarked. " If your head s as strong 
 
 as your hand, why ," and he broke off as if words failed 
 
 him, and sat down again. " I wonder how I can best serve 
 ye," he went on meditatively, and looked at Mr. Peters, his 
 head a little on one side, like a terrier, and waited for a 
 reply. 
 
 " Bergen told me," returned Peters slowly, his voice 
 booming through the office like strong wind down a big 
 chimney, " that the name of Moriarty would bring me re 
 spect and attention at all times in this place." 
 
 " Did he now ? " asked the other, frankly delighted. 
 That s good of him, sir, though maybe saying a bit too 
 much. Still, he knows me in office hours and out of em. 
 If Bergen says that, why, maybe there s some truth in it 
 among them that know me," and he nodded, while Peters 
 went on. 
 
 " If you would do me the goodness to be my banker ? " 
 he said. 
 
 " With all the world s pleasure, for as much as you like, 
 and as long as you please, if so be as the Bank of Scotland 
 isn t good enough for you," returned Moriarty, opening his 
 honest eyes widely.
 
 A LETTER OF INTRODUCTION 23 
 
 So the big man slowly and carefully unbuckled a belt 
 from about his waist, and, taking packets of notes there 
 from, he counted out five hundred pounds, and put back the 
 rest. " There is something more," he said, as the other be 
 gan to write a receipt, and, turning to the chair, lifted a 
 black bag that lay beside it. He opened that, and took a 
 canvas bag from it. This was old and dirty, with a letter or 
 two and a number on it J.F. 1000. " That is all," he 
 said, and Mr. Moriarty added to his memorandum, " also a 
 canvas bag, tied and sealed, marked J.F. 1000, contents un 
 known," and locked them up, then and there, in his safe. 
 
 " You ll dine with me on Saturday ? " he asked, hunting 
 for a card. " Pot-luck, at seven, mind and no swallow 
 tails." 
 
 Mr. Peters, looking somewhat puzzled, had swallow-tails 
 explained to him. " Never wore em in the States ? " 
 queried Moriarty to himself, and then, begging Peters to 
 look in any time before Saturday when he happened to be 
 passing or to be in want of any help in his family affairs, he 
 showed him out, risking his fingers in another warm hand 
 shake. His conscience plagued him sorely as he turned 
 back into the office. He was a temperate man in spite of 
 any idea Bergen s letter may have given to the contrary, and 
 the thought of spirits in the morning w r as abhorrent to him. 
 But a foreigner, from the States, too ! It was most inhos 
 pitable not to have offered it at anyrate, though he wanted 
 badly to get back to his desk. 
 
 " Mackenzie," he said to the youngest clerk, who had 
 been put by his seniors to sit opposite the door because there 
 was a draught there when it opened. " Mackenzie ! Kim 
 out, there s a good fellow, and, if you can see that gentle 
 man, say that I ll be obliged if he ll step back for a minute." 
 
 Mackenzie tumbled off his stool, and rushed out hatless, 
 to return in half a minute. 
 
 " He s not far," he explained. " I ll just take my bat
 
 24 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Tut, tut," interrupted his master. " Let be ! He ll be 
 calling again in a day or two. Kemember, you, sir, that if 
 any gentleman calls to see me, you don t know whether I m 
 engaged or not until you ve asked." 
 
 He plunged back into the inner room, shut the door, and 
 pulled out writing pad and paper. His visitor had uncon 
 sciously suggested the word that he wanted, and Mr. Mori- 
 arty longed to set it down. 
 
 Meanwhile Giuseppe Peters had made for the waterside, 
 and was strolling among the shipping. Cranes swung great 
 sacks of grain and flour and meal over his head, and puffing 
 locomotives threatened to run him down without his seem 
 ing to notice them. He strolled serenely on, and fell into a 
 brown study when he reached open water at a pier-head. 
 There he sat down, and looked across the Forth which for 
 once happened to be sparkling in the sun without seeing 
 very much. The steamers grunted and puffed past him, the 
 gulls, attracted by scraps tossed from some cook s galley, 
 fought in the water at his feet, and screamed harshly over 
 head. Morning became afternoon, and afternoon wore on 
 until the shadows lengthened, and still he sat idly. Some 
 times he muttered a word or two between his teeth; once he 
 put up his hand to his throat, and, pulling out a gold coin 
 that hung about his neck, stared at it and laughed a little. 
 Perhaps he began to feel hungry, perhaps it was the clocks 
 of Leith striking five that roused him at last. He looked at 
 his watch and rose. 
 
 " Five," he said, " and I ve had nothing to eat but my 
 breakfast ! The dinner of Mrs. Jimps will be the worse for 
 my appetite." And that evening Mrs. Jimps watched him, 
 marvelling, and wondered whether he ate like that always, 
 and whether such a Paying Guest would pay after all.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 MR. PETERS DECLARES HIS ERRAND 
 
 IT was a quarter to seven on Saturday evening, and the 
 household of Timothy Lucius Moriarty was as busy as he 
 could make it. You would think, as the exasperated cook 
 remarked, that he was giving a " bankit " to the Lord Pro 
 vost of Edinburgh and all the Town Council instead of to 
 one man from Amerikey, who likely didn t know grouse 
 when he saw them, and couldn t tell hare-soup from ox-tail. 
 " There s nothing comes frae thae pairts worth eatin except 
 Blue Points," she told the table-maid, turning her red face 
 from the fire, " and - , ther s his bell once more. Tell 
 um, Jean, that if it s me he s wishing to see, I ll come, but 
 the birds 11 be sinners," that at least was what it sounded 
 like, but she meant cinders, and the message being duly de 
 livered, her master left the cook in peace. 
 
 " If Miss Nelly d make haste down an pacify um," she 
 confided to the hare-soup as she peered into it, " things d 
 gang a richt," and Jean, the table-maid, inclined to agree 
 with her. 
 
 Nelly Moriarty, the motherless child of the house, was in 
 her room putting a finishing touch here and there, and try 
 ing, from various points of view and with hand-glass and 
 mirror tilted at various angles, to decide whether her hair 
 was as it should be at the back. This was not so easy as it 
 might have been had she owned less, or had she been able to 
 take it off for re-arrangement, but she was satisfied at last. 
 
 " Dad ll be in a fine fury by this time," she announced to 
 the mirror. " Must be off, or he ll get as hot as the soup," 
 and down she went.
 
 26 MR. PETERS 
 
 Meanwhile, her father, his hair as much on end as when 
 we saw him last, was pacing up and down the drawing-room, 
 looking at his watch every two minutes. Twice he put his 
 hand on the bell and twice he took it away, remembering 
 cook s prophecy concerning the " birds." Over his own 
 meals he was as meek as any lamb, but when a guest was 
 concerned his hospitable soul knew no peace. As for Nelly, 
 who ruled the house with smiles and a rod of iron, he alter 
 nated between forgetting that she was past the school-room 
 and making her responsible for everything right or wrong. 
 Whatever he might say or pretend, she was really like his 
 heart s blood to him, though he often vowed her the plague 
 of his life, and swore that she would bring his gray hairs in 
 sorrow to the grave. From all which you w 7 ill infer that 
 Lucius Moriarty, owing to his Irish blood or some other 
 cause of which I know nothing, was a somewhat unreason 
 able and unreasoning man, at anyrate where his daughter 
 was concerned, but that he had his likable qualities. 
 
 And now let us follow Nelly as she goes into the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 When she opened the door hor father was standing in the 
 middle of the room, watch in hand, and held it out for her to 
 see the time. 
 
 " Five minutes to seven ! " he said solemnly. " It s dress 
 dress 
 
 " Dressed ! " 
 
 Miss Ellen Moriarty finished the sentence for him, and 
 rounded it with a smacking kiss. 
 
 " There, sir," she announced, " though you don t deserve 
 it. How many times have you sent down for poor Carter? " 
 
 " Only twice," Lucius declared. "At least, the next time 
 I told her not to come." 
 
 " A queer thing to tell her ! " commented Nelly, gravely, 
 " and one I didn t think she d need to be told at her time of 
 life. I think you mean three times, dad."
 
 MR. PETERS DECLARES HIS ERRAND 27 
 
 " What s a man to do," grumbled Lucius, " if the girl who 
 should see to such things spends her time before her glass 
 with her chignons and : 
 
 " Chignons ! " interrupted Nelly, remorselessly, " I may 
 have heard of them in the nursery, dad, but never since. 
 Why, you re awfully out of date, you old dear ! " 
 
 " If I hadn t given an eye to the table, what would one 
 know about how things were ? " demanded Lucius, gruffly. 
 
 " Just as much as one does now, daddy, seeing that every 
 thing was done before I went up to dress." 
 
 " Then I had to see Carter and make sure that she put 
 more pepper into the soup. She always forgets." 
 
 " And I do hope and trust she has forgotten again, father 
 dear, since I went down and seasoned it myself." She was 
 surveying her father critically all the time. " I can t make 
 out what s wrong with you," she said at last. " Why, your 
 hair s all on end ! Eun away, there s a dear, and give it a 
 good brush. Off you go ! The bell hasn t rung yet," and 
 she hustled him good-humoredly out of the room, and was 
 sitting the very picture of a demure and somewhat reserved 
 young lady when Mr. Peters was ushered in. 
 
 He was in swallow-tails, in spite of Lucius injunction, 
 and looked well in them, too, or so Nelly thought as she 
 lifted her eyes and made a swift, but fairly thorough inspec 
 tion, as was her habit with strangers. 
 
 " Big," she thought, " and strong, and what strong, white 
 teeth he s got. He s not shy before a woman, anyhow. 
 He s very polite, too. I m not sure yet - ," and then 
 dinner was announced, and Mr. Peters ceremoniously of 
 fered his arm, while Lucius followed on behind, thinking 
 that, after all, there was no girl like his, and that in her way 
 of walking and the turn of her head, she got more like her 
 sainted mother every hour. 
 
 The dinner went on quietly and pleasantly in the com 
 fortable dining-room. If Nelly made a despairing little
 
 28 MR. PETERS 
 
 mouth over her first spoonful of doubly seasoned soup, it 
 was only Jean who saw her, and the other two, as she re 
 ported downstairs, " took them [soup being plural here 
 abouts] as if they could ha ta en mair." 
 
 Nelly questioned Peters now and then about the States 
 and the places he had visited, while Lucius, satisfied by this 
 time that his guest was going to be well dined, beamed upon 
 both, and sent down a message of congratulation to the 
 kitchen. Peters talked well, slowly, and with now and then 
 a quaint word or turn of sentence that showed he often 
 thought in a foreign tongue, but he seemed to know what 
 was likely to interest Xelly, and gave her picturesque little 
 sketches of life here and there. 
 
 " He s clever too," she thought, while she watched him, 
 " and he s attentive and entertaining, but 
 
 She broke off, even in thinking, because she didn t know 
 exactly what her own " but " meant. It really meant that 
 she was not quite sure of Mr. Peters how to ticket him in 
 fact. Women, especially young ones, like to classify us, the 
 simpler sex, and Mr. Peters did not lend himself to any such 
 arrangement. He was absolutely polite, to her, but so he 
 was to her father, with precisely the same manner, and lis 
 tened to the one as attentively as to the other. She might 
 as well be a man, she told herself with mock indignation. 
 She tried such perfectly innocent feminine devices as she 
 knew to draw him out a little, but Mr. Peters could not or 
 would not be moved. So Xelly pretended to think he must 
 be stupid, which she didn t believe for a moment, and was 
 again demure and retiring, and for her almost dull, until she 
 had had a glass of wine, and half an apple shared with her 
 father. Then she rose from dessert, and, bringing cigars 
 and cigarettes, laid them at Lucius side, and went to the 
 drawing-room bowed out ceremoniously, but to all appear 
 ance without regret, by Mr. Peters. 
 
 Arrived at the drawing-room, she sat down at the piano
 
 MR. PETERS DECLARES HIS ERRAND 29 
 
 and practised one or two of the Irish songs that her father 
 liked. She had a pretty voice, and sang with taste, but with 
 not much more as yet. Then she took up a novel and pres 
 ently threw it down, and some fancy work, and threw that 
 down, thinking that if Mr. Peters had not been so stupid 
 and dull she could have wished the men would leave the 
 dining-room. Later she decided that her dear dad at any- 
 rate mustn t be neglected, and sent down to ask if they 
 would have coffee there or upstairs. Meanwhile, the men 
 had been chatting, while Lucius puffed a big cigar, and 
 Peters slowly smoked one cigarette after another, listening 
 to his host and watching the wreaths of smoke through lazy, 
 half-closed eyes. 
 
 " You ll be staying here some time? " asked Lucius, push 
 ing the decanters across, when Peters had closed the door 
 behind Nelly and was back in his seat. 
 
 " Some time, probably," he answered, looking critically 
 at the cigarette he had just lit. It was a fat one, with 
 " Dream " stamped at one end. 
 
 " Does that suit you ? " asked Lucius, rising; " if not, I ve 
 another lot somewhere handy. I m no judge of those paper 
 things myself." 
 
 But Mr. Peters waved his hand in protestation. " The 
 most excellent," he assured Lucius. " What did I do ? I 
 thought, for the moment, of my business, which was most 
 rude." 
 
 " Thought you didn t like it," explained Lucius, return 
 ing to his seat. " Here s to your business, Mr. Peters, what 
 ever that may be," and they bowed to one another over their 
 glasses. 
 
 " You ll find these parts lively enough for a winter. 
 Dance, I s pose ? of course ! " as Peters nodded, " and no 
 entanglements ? " 
 
 His guest s eyebrows went up a trifle as he looked for an 
 explanation.
 
 30 MR. PETERS 
 
 " No lassie weeping her eyes out for ye over beyond ? " 
 explained Lucius, and Peters laughed loudly. 
 
 " I have made no one weep yet," he announced. 
 
 " D ye know any Edinburgh folk ? " 
 
 " By name, some. I shall know more of them later on. 
 
 " Of course, of course," assented Lucius. " If you ve 
 letters or anything of that kind for em, of course they ll 
 make you welcome and you ll soon know more of em. Who 
 did you say they were ? " 
 
 Peters opened his mouth as if to answer, and then looked 
 at Lucius good-tempered face, and shut it again, trying ap 
 parently to think of something. 
 
 " I have forgotten the name," he said at last; " your Scots 
 names are so strange. It was perhaps Mac Something ? " 
 
 " Perhaps," said Lucius, chuckling at his own small joke. 
 " There are one or two Mac Somethings hereabouts. But 
 you ll find em later, no doubt." 
 
 " Oh ! I shall find them," said Mr. Peters, with an air 
 of quiet conviction that set Lucius off chuckling again. 
 
 " I ll show you the Macs presently in the directory," he 
 promised him. " Are these the people you have business 
 with ? " 
 
 " Perhaps," said Mr. Peters. 
 
 " Good biz., I hope," said Lucius. " Money in it, I hope, 
 Mr. Peters, since you ve come so far." But Mr. Peters 
 shook his head and said he thought not. 
 
 " A debt to pay; that is all," he told Lucius. 
 
 " Ey, ey ! That s a different matter," Lucius sighed re 
 gretfully. " Still, it s a great pleasure, sir, to be able to 
 pay one s debts ! " 
 
 " It is indeed," Mr. Peters agreed solemnly, " and I have 
 been compelled to leave this (how do you business men say 
 standing ?) far too long." 
 
 " Old family business ? " asked Lucius, interested, but 
 not wishing to put unpleasant questions.
 
 MR. PETERS DECLARES HIS ERRAND 31 
 
 Mr. Peters nodded again. " My father died suddenly/ 
 he explained, " and in debt. I now wish to settle the ac 
 count." 
 
 " Very right and proper spirit, sir," said Lucius, raising 
 his glass and nodding his warm approval. " It d do honor 
 to any merchant here, an if it was my affair, Gad ! I d be 
 glad to meet you half-way. When you ve looked over your 
 documents, you can tell me the name if you like, and I ll do 
 anything to help you if they ve business with me. They d 
 likely be ready to let you off something." 
 
 " Very true ! " Mr. Peters considered gravely, and seemed 
 to think that possible. " But I will pay them in full," he 
 added. 
 
 Just then the maid came down with Nell s message and 
 Lucius repeated it. 
 
 " What d ye say ? Shall we go up now and have our cof 
 fee with my Nell, as she s alone ? " 
 
 Mr. Peters said he would be most happy, and rose, throw 
 ing away his half-finished cigarette. 
 
 " She ll give us a song if you re fond of music, and," said 
 Lucius, chuckling, " Jeanie, get the directory from the 
 library, there s a good lassie, and bring it to me in the draw 
 ing-room." 
 
 So they went upstairs and had their coffee with Nell. 
 
 Jean brought the directory, and Lucius, with great satis 
 faction, turned up the Mac s and the M s. They agreed 
 that it was of no use bothering until Peters had looked over 
 his papers. " Tho , anyway," said Lucius, dryly, " I m 
 thinking that if you were to put in to-morrow s papers that 
 you d come to pay a debt, and wanted your creditor s ad 
 dress, you d not have to wait long ! " 
 
 Then Nelly sang to them, while Mr. Peters sat very still, 
 and he thanked her very politely at the end, but whether he 
 listened to her, or thought about something else all the time, 
 she couldn t tell. After that he said good-night, and went
 
 3;> MR. PETERS 
 
 away; while Lucius shouted after him from the door-step, to- 
 be sure and speak any time that he, Lucius Moriarty, could 
 be of any use. 
 
 Lucius went hack to a little snuggery of his own, where 
 he usually ended the evening with a book and a cigar, for he 
 was a careful and critical reader. There he found Nell 
 waiting, as was her habit, for five minutes gossip, usually 
 conducted on his knee. 
 
 " Pleasant chap, Peters ! " he suggested, as Nell settled 
 herself down. 
 
 " M yes," said Nell, and Lucius, who always either hated 
 or loved a man, and cursed or blessed him with fervor ac 
 cordingly, demanded what she found wrong with him. 
 
 "The rudiments o hospitality aren t in you! " he insisted. 
 " Here s a poor fellow a stranger an a foreigner comes 
 on an honest errand, with a letter from a man we both know, 
 and who thinks nothing too good for you when he comes 
 this way; an yet, of this stranger his relative all the good 
 you can say is * M yes, " which Lucius miaulled out as if he 
 were a tom-cat on the tiles. 
 
 " The man s good-looking, isn t he ? " he went on. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " Nell allowed; "though I don t like a middle- 
 aged man to be so fat about the face," she added critically. 
 Peters was at most only thirty-five, but to Nell that seemed 
 quite middle-aged, if not past it. 
 
 " What s the objection ? " demanded Lucius. " Would 
 you have us all like Irving in the Bells ? He s a powerful 
 well-informed man, too." 
 
 This, we may say, was asserted on the strength of a mono 
 logue by Lucius, which it has not been necessary to repeat, 
 upon some hobbies of his, during which monologue Peters 
 had sat silent, but apparently appreciative. 
 
 " I daresay, dad, I don t understand him, that s all, and 
 so I don t know for certain if T like him or not." 
 
 " Conceit," says Lucius dogmatically. " How can a lassie
 
 MR. PETERS DECLARES HIS ERRAND 33 
 
 like you understand any man ? Be off to bed, my dear, and 
 leave me to me book. The man s just a simple, honest 
 chap, who pays his way, and owes no man anything but 
 what he s ready to fork out. Be off wid ye."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 LUCIUS PROPOSES A QUIET EVENING 
 
 IT was early in September when Peters presented his let 
 ter of introduction to Lucius, and September drifted on 
 without his showing any pressing concern about his busi 
 ness, so far at least as Lucius could see. 
 
 " An easy-going chap," he told Nell in the snuggery; 
 " don t seem to know if he ll settle things next week or next 
 month. Now, I guess my correspondents in the States 
 aren t like that much. However, what d you say to letting 
 him meet some folks here? Quietly, y know, and no fuss 
 or bother for you ? " 
 
 One of Lucius theories was that, by guileful and steady 
 practice, with gradual increasing of her responsibilities, he 
 was training his girl to be fit to rule a house. A child like 
 that, he thought (when do we cease to be children for our 
 parents ?), naturally timid of responsibility, must be led 
 gently through the mysteries of housekeeping, and must not 
 be frightened by having to give entertainments on anything 
 but the most modest scale. Unfortunately for his theory, 
 Lucius hospitable wish to entertain everyone he knew, and 
 a good many he didn t know, led him into practices which 
 did not correspond; at which he would stare far more aghast 
 than Nell. 
 
 " Everybody s away still," he said to comfort her further, 
 " so you can do it quite quietly without offending em." 
 
 " Very well, dear," answered Nell serenely. " If they re 
 all away I don t see how we can get them to come, but what 
 do you want ? Half a dozen or so in for a little music next 
 week ? People are beginning to come back, I can tell you." 
 
 34
 
 LUCIUS PROPOSES A QUIET EVENING 35 
 
 " Ay, half a dozen or so in for a little music/ agreed 
 Lucius cautiously. " And maybe one or two to come early 
 for dinner. Music s cold comfort to some folk. At least 
 (diplomatically) I know they enjoy your songs more as they 
 ought to, if they ve seen first what a grand housewife y are." 
 
 Nelly gave his ear a pull for this attempt at diplomacy, 
 and Lucius, thinking of another powerful reason, went on 
 
 " The table looked lop-sided last time Peters was here," 
 lie remarked casually. " I saw you noticed it, my dear, and 
 one or two more would make it look more decent." 
 
 " One would, daddy. Two would put it wrong again." 
 
 " Best make it three or five then. Seven s a good num 
 ber, for that would make ten," Lucius told her. " But you 
 mustn t think of more than that; of course, for afterwards 
 ye ll make it as many as ye please. It s as easy for you to 
 please fifty with a song as fifteen, and sandwiches and a cup 
 of coffee are no expense, thanks be." 
 
 " Aren t they ? " asked Nelly, innocently. " I ve got the 
 bills for the last evening, and I ll fetch them, dad. Some 
 how I thought 
 
 " Tut, tut ! lassie, none of your havers. With a house 
 keeper like you I can afford to see my friends now and then. 
 It s time for you to be in your bed too, and I ll just finish 
 this book." 
 
 " Dad ! It s my novel, and you told me only last week 
 that I ought to be ashamed of reading it, when I couldn t 
 give you a line of Goldsmith or Sheridan." 
 
 " Go off to your bed, ye besom ! " retorted her father. 
 " How could I say that when I hadn t read it ? I would be 
 most unjust. Here s a man writes a book about Constanti 
 nople who s never been in it, and it s most extraordinary 
 life-like." 
 
 " I didn t know you d been there either," retorted Nelly 
 maliciously, but Lucius refused to notice this. 
 
 " The life and the learning a clever man will put into a
 
 36 MR. PETERS 
 
 good novel good, mind ye, none of your trash is most 
 surprisin . None o your slaughtering and cheap love- 
 making, but a plain, honest story." 
 
 " There s a lot of killing and love-making further on," 
 Nell warned him. " You d better drop it. They called for 
 the book to-day, and I hunted high and low for the thing. 
 
 " If you d looked you d have found it got mixed up with 
 some papers in my bureau," Lucius told her, with one eye 
 on the page. 
 
 " The bureau was locked." 
 
 " Ay, so it was. D ye think I want all the maids routing 
 round ? Be off now, and let me get time to finish, or they ll 
 call for nothing again to-morrow." 
 
 So Nelly planted a kiss on the back of her father s head, 
 and went laughing to her room, and before Lucius went to 
 bed he finished the book, with many ejaculations at the 
 extraordinary knowledge of the novelist.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 INTRODUCES SOPHIA AMELIE RIVERS 
 
 MEANWHILE Mr. Peters, in spite of his obvious want of 
 business-like push and despatch, was, like an intelligent for 
 eigner, keeping his eyes open. Under the smiles of Mrs. 
 Jimps he lost some of his elaborate gravity. The change 
 did not show itself usually in any frivolous form of joke or 
 laughter, but in the frank comments he made upon things 
 in general. If these comments had been made with any 
 appearance of spite or anger, they might sometimes have 
 fairly been called brutal. When he did anything which 
 might, by a stretch of imagination, be called a joke, it was 
 certain to be practical, and such as was not likely to be for 
 gotten. One night, for example, when he sat in the drawing- 
 room, with the other partakers of Mrs. Jimps hospitality, 
 whom I need not describe, since they were birds of passage, 
 there came sudden shrieks from the kitchen, with unmistak 
 able oaths in a deeper tone, and then crept in a faint smell 
 of burning, as Mrs. Jimps opened the door and indignantly 
 swept out to investigate. 
 
 The others wondered to one another what could be the 
 matter. If Mr. Peters wondered, he didn t say so. 
 
 When Mrs. Jimps came back, she had a strange and har 
 rowing story to tell. 
 
 This, it seemed, was the night upon which Annie, by per 
 mission, was accustomed to receive her young man, who, I 
 believe, has already been spoken of as a corporal of dra 
 goons. 
 
 While that innocent couple sat before the kitchen fire 
 
 37
 
 38 MR. PETERS 
 
 alone, it being cook s evening out, and talking, so she as 
 sured Mrs. Jimps, of the minister they had heard together 
 only the week before, there came a live coal out of the fire 
 and struck her beloved in the face, " and if you will believe 
 me," Mrs. Jimps told her eagerly interested auditors in the 
 drawing-room, " the poor young man s mustache is nearly 
 all gone, and his face is quite scorched, while the smell of 
 that burnt mustache, well it might have been gunpowder, 
 or sulphur, or anything." 
 
 " Really a cinder ? " asked Mr. Peters, much concerned. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Peters, there it was on the hearthstone, as 
 Annie showed me." 
 
 " Most miraculous," he told her, " and sulphuric smells, 
 you have said ? While they talked of their minister ? It 
 will be the Devil, do you not think ? " 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Jimps cautiously, " in these parts, al 
 though one knows very well that there are Powers of Evil, 
 still, one doesn t look for 
 
 " I have known many such things," he said, gravely, " but 
 the Devil has made one of his silly mistakes. This good 
 fellow, being a brave dragoon, will have laughed." 
 
 " He didn t while I was there," Mrs. Jimps said. " His 
 mustache, you know ! " 
 
 " These brave boys care nothing for their appearance," 
 Mr. Peters assured her. " He will have been vexed that you 
 were disturbed." 
 
 " Perhaps so," said Mrs. Jimps doubtfully, and the mat 
 ter dropped for the time. 
 
 When Mr. Peters went to his room, he rang the bell. 
 There was no answer at first, but he was always very patient, 
 and he waited patiently now until cook answered. 
 
 " You ! " lie said. " Where is my good friend Annie ? " 
 
 " She s a sair held, sir," the cook explained, "and she s 
 now away to her bed." 
 
 " Our poor Annie ! " Mr. Peters was most sympathetic.
 
 INTRODUCES SOPHIA AMELIE RIVERS 39 
 
 " But I have excellent remedies for sore heads (it is that 
 you said, is it not ?), and I will cure it." 
 
 So presently, Annie, seeing no help for it, made her ap 
 pearance, with her head bundled up in a shawl, at which 
 Mr. Peters laughed immoderately. " I have a message for 
 your soldier," he informed her. " If you take any more of 
 my best cigars for the pig, there will be gunpowder enough 
 and plenty in the next to make him so that you shall see his 
 face no more. Now, go ! " and she went. 
 
 He came with a very good knowledge of English, though 
 he used a foreign idiom now and then, with queer turns of 
 sentences. Now he enlarged his vocabulary quickly, being 
 ready to talk, at table or in the street, with anyone who was 
 conversationally inclined, and he constantly asked questions 
 where a meaning was not plain to him. 
 
 " My good Mrs. Jimps," he called up to her from the foot 
 of the dinner-table one evening, " am I at liberty to put 
 to you one little question ? " 
 
 " Why, certainly, Mr. Peters ! " Mrs. Jimps said politely. 
 There were ten at table that night, and Mr. Peters, being 
 now the male resident of longest stay, sat facing Mrs. Jimps, 
 and wrestled with a fowl as he spoke. 
 
 " This is an ancient fowl," he remarked casually, as he 
 disarticulated a leg, and then, " What is a lodger, madam ? " 
 
 " A lodger, er lodges in a lodging-house, and pays for 
 board and lodging," Mrs. Jimps told him, after considera 
 tion. 
 
 " So ? " and Mr. Peters disposed of the other leg. 
 
 " What is a guest, my dear Mrs. Jimps ? " 
 
 " A guest is a friend who stays in your house." 
 
 " But a Paying Guest ? " 
 
 " A friend also, I hope, Mr. Peters," Mrs. Jimps said, 
 drawing herself up and flushing a little. Poor woman, she 
 did her best with ber Paying Guests and her House of Resi 
 dence. It was, after all, a harmless expression; and since
 
 40 MR. PETERS 
 
 it somehow made her feel superior to the ordinary landlady, 
 her Paying Guests quite possibly profited in comfort, if not 
 in coin. Mr. Peters asked no more, but openly lamented 
 the difficulties of our tongue. 
 
 " Here," he said, " are two things which are the same 
 thing. Lodger and Paying Guest, also Lodging and 
 House of Residence, and the poor foreigner who wishes to 
 learn is troubled over two, until he finds they are one. It is 
 most devilish hard ! " 
 
 " Mr. Peters ! " 
 
 Mrs. Jimps had told him before, that certain words were 
 not used in polite society at anyrate before ladies; and this 
 was one of them. 
 
 " Pardon ! " he entreated. " We may say * deuced, may 
 we not? and that again is the same thing, and both refer to 
 a thing in which I do not believe." 
 
 The conversation was then changed by some charitable 
 tourist, but poor Mrs. Jimps noticed, after that, that when 
 anything in the House of Residence happened to displease 
 Mr. Peters, he took the next opportunity of alluding to his 
 " lodgings " and to himself as her poor lodger. To do him 
 justice, he was not readily displeased, and often seemed so 
 preoccupied as to pass over, unnoticed, little discomforts 
 that occurred with the coming and going of visitors, and 
 which would have irritated most other men. 
 
 Every day he strolled, big, placid, and dignified, about 
 the city, with apparently no other object in life than to 
 quietly enjoy himself, and to listen in innocent silence to 
 any lies which any guide chose to tell him. Sometimes he 
 took a cab, and once imperturbably allowed a cabman to 
 drive him from the Castle to Leith by way of the Queen s 
 Drive, because the fellow began chatting about a celebrated 
 trial, as they passed near the Parliament House, and went on 
 to speak of the judges and advocates engaged. Peters rose 
 from the seat of the open cab, and went up on to the box,
 
 INTRODUCES SOPHIA AMELIE RIVERS 41 
 
 where he questioned the man about the judges, some of 
 whom, at auyrate, he knew by name already. 
 
 It was that evening on his return that he made the ac 
 quaintance of a lady whom I must introduce, namely, Miss 
 Sophia Amelie Rivers, who asked her friends to call her 
 Amelie, and was therefore known as Em ly. 
 
 Mr. Peters had dined, and having gone out for an evening 
 stroll, was roaming placidly along through the streets under 
 a cloudy sky, when, having put a cigarette between his lips, 
 he discovered that he had no matches. He grunted, and 
 then, seeing that there was a tobacconist s shop opposite, he 
 crossed the road and went in. 
 
 There was, there still is, nothing striking about the place 
 to distinguish it from a dozen others. It stands in one of 
 the lesser streets behind Princes Street, and is just a small, 
 well-kept shop, with a wooden, genial-looking, kilted High 
 lander extending his mull to you at the door, and with a 
 pigeon-hole of a room behind, in which a light must always 
 be kept burning if one is to see anything there, since there is 
 no window, and not much light comes through from the 
 street. As for ventilation, except through the shop, there 
 is none but the chimney. Of course Mr. Peters didn t 
 know all this at once. He rapped on the counter, seeing no 
 one, and presently the curtain which separated the shop 
 from the pigeon-hole was lifted, and a frowsy-headed dam 
 sel appeared. 
 
 Her hair was the fashionable color, or as near as she could 
 get it, namely, a sort of straw yellow. Her dress was brown 
 velveteen, rubbed at the elbows, and very balloon-like at the 
 shoulders. She had a wide, good-natured mouth, with good 
 teeth, which she showed often by a broad smile. Her com 
 plexion was remarkable, considering the atmosphere in 
 which most of her life was probably spent, and one felt that 
 to match it, her hair, if she left it alone, must surely be red. 
 She had a dirty novel in her hand, the back torn away, and
 
 42 MR. PETERS 
 
 she kept her place in it with her left forefinger while she 
 gave Mr. Peters his matches. 
 
 " Anything else ? " she asked, and he said " No," and 
 turned away, hut stopped at the door. A few big drops of 
 rain fell, splashing in great blotches on the pavement; peo 
 ple began to scatter and hurry for shelter, and Mr. Peters 
 turned to the counter again. The girl was watching him 
 from the back, with a woman s natural admiration for broad 
 shoulders, and smiled again when he said he would smoke 
 there until the rain stopped. 
 
 " Wy, cert nly," she said, and, lighting a cigarette, he 
 rested on the long, leather-covered seat that was placed 
 against the wall opposite the counter. 
 
 " Keg lar Scotch weather, ain t it ? " she said, genially. 
 " Ow d you like Edinburgh ? " 
 
 " I think your city most superb," Mr,, Peters replied 
 gravely. 
 
 " Taint mine," said the young person, with a somewhat 
 disdainful projection of the chin. " I don t belong properly 
 to these parts." 
 
 " Indeed ? " 
 
 Mr. Peters, having nothing else to occupy him, was much 
 interested, or seemed so. 
 
 " What part of this country has the honor ? " 
 
 She looked at him suspiciously. " B lieve he s fooling," 
 was her first thought, but Mr. Peters was already lost in 
 contemplation of his cigarette. " Just his forrin way," 
 she said to herself, for foreign he certainly seemed. 
 
 " London s my ome," she told him. " I m a Cockney 
 born and bred, I am." 
 
 " A great city ! " announced Mr. Peters politely, and 
 lapsed into silence again. 
 
 The rain was now coming down like a water-spout, the 
 empty streets were filled with the hissing of it on the flag 
 stones and with the gradually growing gurgle of the gutters.
 
 INTRODUCES SOPHIA AMELIE RIVERS 43 
 
 The girl looked out into the dusk and gave a little sigh, 
 because she wanted to get back to her novel, where the hero 
 ine was wavering (though only through innocence and for a 
 moment) between the villain with a coronet and the poor 
 but extremely handsome and honest hero, who was to claim 
 the coronet later. 
 
 " Can t expect the poor fellow to go out in it, I s pose," 
 she allowed, generously, to herself. " Let s see who he is ! " 
 and laying her book open, face down, on the shelf under the 
 counter, she rested both elbows on some cigar-boxes, and 
 resigned herself to social amenities. 
 
 " Were d you come from ? " she asked. 
 
 Mr. Peters waved his cigarette widely and vaguely. " A 
 wanderer," he explained. 
 
 "A sailor, p r aps," she suggested. "A sea-captain, say ? " 
 
 " I have sailed," he admitted, and let the question of ca 
 pacity go by. 
 
 Miss Amelie Rivers grew interested, and thought over the 
 matter a little, while Mr. Peters smoked on, and the rain 
 rustled through the streets. Now and then the faint sound 
 of far-off thunder mixed with the rattle of passing cabs. 
 
 " Sailors go to all parts," Amelie sagely announced at last. 
 " Now, I wonder if you ve ever been to the States ? " 
 
 Yes, Mr. Peters had been to the States, and said so. 
 
 " I ve had friends there," she went on, at which Mr. 
 Peters laughed rather sarcastically. 
 
 " You all have friends there," he told her. " Now you 
 want very much to know if I have met your friends." 
 
 Amelie was nettled at his tone, being suspicious of sar 
 casm. 
 
 "I ve only one of my people there now,anyway," she said, 
 " and it doesn t matter what I want to know, and I think 
 the rain s pretty well done." 
 
 The rain wasn t done, and anyone could tell that much, 
 but she thought a broad hint to go was excusable.
 
 44 MR. PETERS 
 
 Mr. Peters, however, was not the man to take a hint, un 
 less it suited him, and he was only amused. 
 
 " Would you have me drowned ? " he asked pathetically. 
 " Who is your friend, and where, in that so small place ? " 
 
 " My pa s there," said Amelie sulkily, " or was when I 
 heard of him last. But I don t want to trouble you." 
 
 " How could I be so ungrateful ! " protested Mr. Peters 
 gallantly. " Tell me your name. Certainly I may have 
 met him." 
 
 He was so accustomed to such questions, and so prepared 
 to say he had never met the man, that he struck a match 
 noisily when he had spoken, and lit another cigarette. 
 
 " My name s Sophia Amelie Rivers," Amelie answered, 
 waiting, however, until he was quiet again. 
 
 " That s not his name, though," she said presently. She 
 had not realized that her question involved a small confes 
 sion on her part. 
 
 " Your dear father is not called Sophia Amelie ? " sug 
 gested Peters. 
 
 " ISTo, nor Rivers." 
 
 " How is that ? " Mr. Peters asked, scenting another mys 
 tery of the English language. 
 
 " Well, you see," Amelie admitted, " I don t like our 
 name. It s a good enough name, but when I was in a Lon 
 don establishment, the young ladies made fun of it. Some 
 girls are such fools, you know ! " and Mr. Peters nodding 
 sympathetically, said " yes," and begged her to go on. 
 
 It was a stupid sort of thing to have to explain, though. 
 Amelie was glad that she had forgotten to light the gas in 
 the shop, for her cheeks were getting a little hot. 
 
 " It s something to be able to blush anyway, you silly ! " 
 she told herself. " You know plenty who can t ! " and she 
 went on defiantly. " So I just changed my name a bit 
 when I came away. I says to myself, I shall have to 
 change it some day, anyhow, I suppose ; " and here she
 
 INTRODUCES SOPHIA AMfiLIE RIVERS 45 
 
 giggled a little, while Mr. Peters declared that she must 
 have had many chances already. 
 
 " While you re about it," she went on, " it s as well to 
 have a pretty one, and I found one in a lovely book. So I 
 just changed Buncombe into Bivers. What d you think 
 of it?" 
 
 What Mr. Peters thought of it she couldn t hear at the 
 moment, for just then a flash of lightning that nickered into 
 the little shop, followed at once by a thundering peal, made 
 her shriek. 
 
 " Good Lord ! " she ejaculated, directly the thunder had 
 rolled, muttering, away. " I ll light the gas at once, and 
 close that door. Why, it made you look awful ! I wouldn t 
 have another flash like that in the dark for anything. I d 
 be afraid to look at you." She bustled round and lit the gas, 
 but did not close the door. Mr. Peters stood in the door 
 way, looking out upon the street. 
 
 " I wonder, now, if I looked as queer as you did ? " she 
 said, but got no answer. 
 
 " It is stopping," he told her presently, " and I will go." 
 
 " Wait till it s finished," suggested Amelie. 
 
 " It is late," returned Peters, and stepped into the street. 
 
 " P r aps you ll look in some time when you re passing," 
 screamed Amelie after him. 
 
 " I will certainly come back," he shouted over his 
 shoulder, and Amelie picked up her novel again. 
 
 " Don t know that I want to see him either," she re 
 marked, as she ran her finger down the page. " He doesn t 
 seem to have met pa, anyway," and presently she was lost in 
 the sorrows and joys of her heroine.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 A LITTLE DINNER 
 
 As Nell Moriarty had told her father, people were begin 
 ning to come back to town, and settle down for the winter. 
 She had no difficulty in finding friends ready to come, and 
 Lucius limit of ten for dinner was quickly reached. Im 
 agine them then in the cosey, old-fashioned dining-room, 
 which we know already. Nell has been brought down by an 
 elderly bachelor friend of the family, Donald Dee, a counsel 
 at the Scottish Bar, who was at school with Lucius, and who, 
 being of a sanguine temperament, is quite ready to flirt 
 paternally with Lucius daughter. His legal training gives 
 him a ready tongue, and Nell rather enjoys the flutterings 
 of this ancient butterfly. Also, maybe, although she would 
 not acknowledge it to herself, she is interested to see how far 
 some other people are affected by these philanderings. 
 
 On his right hand, Lucius has a widow of comfortable 
 proportions and sufficient income, Mrs. MacQuestra, whose 
 manoeuvres are watched apprehensively by Nell. For it is 
 Nell s secret belief that her father is the innocent quarry of 
 all unattached females, and doomed to a melancholy slavery, 
 unless she be for ever vigilant. 
 
 Lucius tortures her with his open admiration and enjoy 
 ment of the widow s lively badinage, while the widow her 
 self, expanding figuratively in the warmth of his smile, looks 
 to Nell horribly and deceitfully young and traitorous. 
 
 Mr. Peters is quietly studying his partner, a lady of 
 whom we shall see more. She is a Miss Margaret Murray, 
 a woman of perhaps twenty-seven or twenty-eight, who pro 
 fesses to have a great admiration for Nell, and has recently 
 
 46
 
 A LITTLE DINNER 47 
 
 cultivated her acquaintance. Madge Murray states that she 
 is fond of truth because anything else is so much trouble, 
 and that no one believes anyone else in any case. I think 
 we will let her speak for herself, and one never has to wait 
 very long for that. 
 
 On the other side of Madge sits Tom Dunbar, student of 
 medicine at the University of Edinburgh, now in his final 
 year, and very well aware that he ought to be reading in his 
 own rooms instead of dining sumptuously here. But what 
 would you ? Tom doesn t care a ha penny for the dinner, at 
 least he thinks not, being just now " a bit off his feed," as he 
 would put it ; he also certainly doesn t care a ha penny for 
 the lady whom he has brought down, and who privately 
 fears that all students, and especially medical students, are 
 in a bad way. 
 
 But Tom is honestly and head over ears in love with Nell 
 Moriarty, and since, as he tells himself a dozen times a day, 
 he s nothing to her and never will be, why what s the good 
 of work or anything else ? Nell, of course, is quite uncon 
 scious of his feelings. Young ladies always are in such cir 
 cumstances, I know. She treats him in a sisterly way which 
 is horrible and delightful torture to him, and Tom listens 
 far more, just now, to her chat with Mr. Donald Dee than 
 to the question of the lady by his side as to how he spends 
 Sundays. It s mean, he knows, to listen, but he does so, 
 and is no happier ; in fact, rather the reverse. 
 
 The other man of the party accepts, from conscientious 
 motives, all invitations to dine out, thinking it his duty to 
 be sociable, but being on principle a strict vegetarian, makes 
 his hosts unhappy by refusing fish, flesh, and fowl, and in 
 quiring shyly but persistently into the composition of all 
 sauces and puddings. On this particular occasion he is con 
 fining himself to bread and asparagus, much to Lucius dis 
 may. 
 
 His partner is a not very brilliant, though tender-hearted
 
 48 MR. PETERS 
 
 dame, who enjoys a good dinner, but feels abashed before 
 such asceticism. She apologizes hurriedly at intervals, and 
 cannot be made haippy. 
 
 " A charming little gathering, Miss Nelly," says Dee, 
 " and I am the most fortunate member of it." 
 
 Poor Tom Dunbar catches this, and mutters, " I should 
 think so," when his neighbor asks if he ever works on Sun 
 days. 
 
 " How well your daughter manages everything for you," 
 says the widow to Lucius. " You cannot expect to keep 
 such a good housekeeper always, Mr. Moriarty." 
 
 " She s young yet, ma am," says Lucius, " an has a lot to 
 learn. Maybe, when she settles down, there ll be a corner 
 for an old man." 
 
 " My dear Mr. Moriarty, you don t expect to keep her so 
 long as all that, surely ! " says the widow. 
 
 " Or I ll get me lady friends to advise me," adds Lucius, 
 and the widow, with her eyes fixed upon her plate, after just 
 the least little fluttering glance at him, says that she is sure 
 he has plenty of lady friends who would do anything they 
 could. 
 
 Madge Murray, who had noticed the plate of the vege 
 tarian gentleman, turned presently to Peters. 
 
 " Don t you think vegetarianism a fraud ? " she asked. 
 
 " I have heard," said Peters, gravely, " that your aspara 
 gus shouts (or shrieks, is it ?) when he is cut." 
 
 " Doesn t that spoil your dinner ? " 
 
 " Why should it ? " asked Peters philosophically, helping 
 himself to vegetables. " First, I don t believe it ; second, 
 if it is true, I do not hear it." 
 
 Madge surveyed him more carefully than before at this 
 frank statement, and lost a trifle of the supercilious and 
 llase air with which she had greeted him on their intro 
 duction. 
 
 " I don t believe you d care if you did hear it," she re-
 
 A LITTLE DINNER 49 
 
 marked, and Mr. Peters, not perhaps much interested in her 
 beliefs, shrugged his shoulders a little, and turned to hear 
 the explanations of the lady who was apologizing for her 
 carnivorous habits and expressing her ardent desire for a 
 strictly vegetarian diet. 
 
 " I assure you," she told her neighbor, contritely, " I 
 should love it, if only I might be allowed. But my doctor, 
 a most charming man, who understands my constitution 
 thoroughly, won t hear of it. It s nourishment that 
 you want, and nourishment you must have, he told me 
 only yesterday. He says my brain is so active, you know, 
 that my nervous system needs more support than most 
 people s." 
 
 " You cannot imagine the tranquillizing effect," the con 
 scientious man told her. 
 
 " Oh, I sleep well enough," she insisted. " He told me I 
 must, and I always nod a little after dinner when I m alone 
 and at home, of course," she added hurriedly, and the con 
 scientious man sighed. 
 
 So talk went on, growing more lively and general as the 
 champagne went round, and even Tom Dunbar began to 
 feel that stars could be looked at, aye, even climbed for, 
 though one might not expect to reach them. 
 
 " P r aps if a fellow got the Ettles, or even did a first- 
 class pass," he thought, " she might listen to him," and at 
 the second glass of champagne he began to make great plans 
 for steady work. Time passes quickly when one is building 
 castles in the air, and from this point he didn t pay much 
 attention to the dinner s progress. He answered vaguely 
 when spoken to, and smiled foolishly when his neighbor in 
 formed him that she didn t think it a good thing for young 
 men to live alone in lodgings. Evidently she was not a bad 
 sort after all. 
 
 " It s awfully dull at times," he told her. " A fellow can t 
 help wanting to go out a bit. Of course," he added, bash- 
 
 4
 
 50 MR. PETERS 
 
 fully, " a fellow can t even think about settling down until 
 he s capped and properly started." 
 
 " Of course not," the lady asserted, heartily. " I quite 
 agree with you, Mr. Dunbar, that such notions are criminal. 
 I m glad you think so. So many people talk of settling 
 down, by which they mean marriage, as if it were the great 
 object of life. What I say is, look at me ! " 
 
 Tom looked hastily, and muttered " Yes ? " 
 
 " Has marriage been my object in life ? " demanded his 
 neighbor, severely, and answered " No " for herself, since 
 Tom took so long to think it over. 
 
 " Now, especially for young men and women," she went 
 on, delighted to find so sympathetic a listener, " I would 
 suggest such surroundings as should protect them from 
 wrecking their lives at the outset." 
 
 Tom, watching Nelly, who at that moment laughed over 
 something extravagant in the way of a compliment laid at 
 her feet by the insinuating Dee, muttered incoherent words 
 that might mean anything. 
 
 " For you, for example, I would provide dwellings, some 
 what on the collegiate system, with respectable, indeed re 
 fined, matrons, who would supervise where necessary, and 
 make the place so attractive by their society that you would 
 no longer wish to go outside for less praiseworthy pursuits 
 and less improving companions." 
 
 " Really ! " Tom protested, startled at being taken in 
 charge so swiftly, " I " 
 
 " Of course, I don t mean you, Mr. Dunbar. You and I 
 are, I am glad to see, practically at one on these matters. 
 1 mean your average fellow-student, whose moral back-bone 
 is, I have reason to fear, less what do you call it ? ossi 
 fied. Thank you." 
 
 Tom was conscientiously trying to decide how far he was 
 obliged to give his views to this evangelist when Nelly began 
 to smile in his direction. Thinking that she was going to
 
 A LITTLE DINNER 51 
 
 say something to him, he forgot all else, and bent forward 
 only to find that she was trying to catch the widow s eye 
 and make the signal for moving. Dinner was actually over ! 
 What had he been saying and doing, not to have known it? 
 Evidently he had eaten and drunk, for there was a half- 
 finished bunch of grapes before him and his glass was empty. 
 He got up quickly, and was in time to open the door, there 
 by earning a little smile and a nod from Nell as she passed 
 out. Then he made his way back to the table, thinking 
 what idiots men were not to go up with the ladies, and won 
 dering how soon he might be allowed to join them, if he be 
 came his own medical adviser for the moment, and declared 
 himself warned not to smoke. 
 
 The other men came up towards their host s end of the 
 table and lit their cigarettes, all, that is, excepting the con 
 scientious man. He applied himself energetically to a plate 
 of bananas. 
 
 " How are things getting on, Peters ? " 
 
 The question was put by Lucius, from whom Mr. Peters 
 was farthest. It consequently drew everybody s attention to 
 him, and Lucius thought an explanation needed. He intro 
 duced him formally to the rest, and particularly to the Law, 
 as represented by Mr. Dee. 
 
 " Here, Donald, here s a wonder for you. A man from 
 the States looking for his father s creditors." 
 
 Mr. Dee bowed, and raised his glasses, astonished. 
 
 " Gad, sir ! " he ejaculated, with a genial grimace, " if 
 your complaint spread, what would become of our profes 
 sion ? But it s not catching, I warrant. Our clients are 
 more likely to cross the water before than after their cred 
 itors." 
 
 " He may need help yet," suggested Lucius, but the legal 
 gentleman sighed doubtfully. 
 
 " Not from the Bar," he told them. " There is no plead 
 ing needed by the man who wants to pay. Good Lord ! and
 
 52 MR. PETERS 
 
 what credit is to be gained by counsel in such a case ? " He 
 sighed again, with a cheerful and whimsical expression, as 
 though sure that he was surveying a " freak," and that his 
 bread, with thick butter, was secured. 
 
 " Glad to take you over Parliament House any time after 
 the Courts sit," he told Mr. Peters, and Peters replied that 
 he would take advantage of the offer, and fell into a conver 
 sation that drifted on until Lucius suggested the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 There Mr. Dee oscillated between Nelly and Miss Murray, 
 while Tom Dunbar loitered around and tried not to look 
 sulky. The widow openly beckoned Lucius to her side, and 
 by so doing agitated Nell far too much for that anxious 
 young hostess to bestow any attention upon poor Tom. The 
 widow, in a review of recent Celtic literature, had just read 
 a good deal about Celtic Gloom, and was anxious to hear 
 from Lucius whether he was much troubled by it, and to let 
 him understand that, if a woman s sympathy availed any 
 thing to a man with such a dismal inheritance, he might al 
 ways count upon hers. The Designing Creature, as Nell 
 always called her in soliloquy, succeeded in holding Lucius 
 a pleased and willing captive until she made the mistake of 
 insisting upon her passionate love for Irish music in a loud 
 voice while Nell sang. 
 
 " Don t you love it ? " asked the widow. 
 
 " Ay, ma am, when I can hear it," Lucius acknowledged, 
 and was overcome by a gloom, possibly Celtic, which lasted 
 until the end of the evening, though unnoticed except by 
 the cause of it.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 MISS RIVERS RECEIVES A VISIT 
 
 WHEN the swallows, following summer, cross the seas to 
 escape the northern winds and frosts, the well-to-do resi 
 dents of " Auld Eeekie " turn homeward. They grumble 
 maybe, but they come. Some of them because they must 
 work, others because they must pretend to, if their fat bank 
 balances are to remain such as will command respect. 
 Others, again, come as they went, because they are accus 
 tomed to do as their neighbors do, without thinking for 
 themselves, thereby, no doubt, wisely conserving such ner 
 vous energy as they may possess. 
 
 With the rest came Hector Inchiquin Inch, one of the 
 Lords of Council and Session, that is, Judge in the Supreme 
 Courts of Scotland. We met him five-and-twenty years ago 
 in circumstances which he at anyrate has not forgotten, 
 although for a time he flattered himself that he should do 
 so. He came home to Edinburgh almost directly after that 
 night of which we have told, and astonished his friends by 
 the steadiness and sobriety with which he set to work to 
 qualify for the Scottish Bar. Hard work he found to be 
 the best remedy for unpleasant memories, and gradually he 
 grew more lenient towards himself, especially as success 
 came. 
 
 What had the doggedly persevering student, still less the 
 keen advocate, to do with the shadow of a single night, 
 always growing more shadowy ? His reputation increased, 
 his appetite for work seemed insatiable, and now a year had 
 passed since he had been raised to the Bench. Then, almost 
 at once, the old trouble returned. Whether it was that with
 
 54 MR. PETERS 
 
 more dignity came less strain of perpetual work and less to 
 try for, or whether physical trouble pricked conscience, one 
 cannot tell, but the Lord of Session was often occupied in 
 self-retproach when smart young advocates flattered them 
 selves that their eloquence commanded, and received, his 
 entire attention. 
 
 Now he came back from Switzerland, where he had spent 
 the vacation, thin and sallow, looking more as if he came 
 from prison than from the playground of Europe. With 
 him came his son, Archibald, a young fellow of nineteen or 
 twenty a youngster who in face took after his dead mother, 
 who had been a silly, pretty woman of fashion, with a full 
 purse when the young advocate married her. So the brown 
 paper came down from the windows of 45 Drumsheugh 
 Gardens, and Morris, Lord Inch s footman, standing on the 
 doorsteps after a holiday in the country, looked around him 
 to see if there were any changes, and noted with satisfaction, 
 being a man of taste, that No. 46 had engaged a pretty 
 housemaid. He also saw a foreign gentleman stroll quietly 
 past, with the air of a stranger who was admiring Drums 
 heugh Gardens as they deserved to be admired. 
 
 If he seemed to pay special attention to No. 45, that was 
 only natural. Morris stood there, and Morris was of opinion 
 that his figure and livery could not be matched, outside the 
 British Isles at anyrate. 
 
 " We must introduce ourselves to the young lady at No. 
 46," said Morris to himself, and thought no more of the 
 foreign gentleman, who strolled quietly on. 
 
 It was Mr. Peters, who had passed the house more than 
 once before, and knew perfectly well who lived there. 
 
 The quiet repose of Drumsheugh Gardens, or the sight of 
 these preparations for habitation, interested him so much 
 that the following morning, at about half-past ten, Mr. 
 Peters chose to smoke a cigar in that direction again. He 
 had scarcely turned in at the eastern end, when he saw a
 
 MISS RIVERS RECEIVES A VISIT 55 
 
 boyish figure run down the steps of No. 45 and come towards 
 him. There was a good distance between them; the young 
 fellow turned to call back some order to a servant, and if 
 after that he saw anything at all before him, it could only be 
 Mr. Peter s back, that gentleman having suddenly decided 
 that he wished to go the other way. 
 
 So Mr. Peters reached the end of the street first, and was 
 surveying a passing char-a-bancs, as if in doubt about a ride 
 to the Forth Bridge, when young Inch, for it was he, went 
 
 by- 
 
 Mr. Peters, looking, saw a fair, lank young fellow, with 
 close-cropped yellow hair, and a somewhat vacant expres 
 sion, and receding chin. 
 
 He was in a light riding suit breeches, gaiters, and 
 spurs the spurs longer and sharper than most horsemen 
 care to have them. They jingled as he went, 9hd he 
 flicked his little cane against his gaiter, seeming in excellent 
 spirits. 
 
 Evidently the boy, for he was very boyish, was going for 
 a ride, and therefore one could not follow him far, even if 
 anxious to do so. But Peters turned, wishing to see what 
 he could of him, and was led into Princes Street. 
 
 The youngster was in no hurry. Twice he stopped to 
 chat with people he met. Then he turned off Princes 
 Street, and presently, to Mr. Peters surprise, marched into 
 the tobacconist s shop which was presided over by Miss 
 Sophia Amelie Rivers. 
 
 Mr. Peters was surprised, and then spoke to himself in 
 uncomplimentary terms for being so. No doubt the boy 
 had gone in for cigarettes or matches, and would be out in 
 a minute or two. So he lit another cigar and waited like the 
 patient man that he always was. The cigar was finished, 
 and still there was no sign of Master Archie Inch. So 
 Peters, apparently quite contented, threw the cigar-stump 
 to a waiting ragamuffin, with a few words, unfortunately in
 
 56 MR. PETERS 
 
 a foreign tongue, on the value of patience. Then he went 
 back to his rooms. 
 
 Meanwhile there were tender passages in the little tobac 
 conist s shop. 
 
 When young Inch tramped in past the silently grinning 
 Highlander, whose face, to an imaginative spectator, might 
 have suggested a sneer, his spurs were jingling as though 
 he represented a whole squadron of dismounted dragoons. 
 Miss Amelie rushed from her retreat like a plump and good- 
 natured spider, and said " Lor ! " likewise " My ! " 
 
 " I thought you was a cavalry officer ! " she explained, 
 which was not displeasing to Archie, though he affected in 
 difference, and a certain amount of suspicion. 
 
 " I s pose you have that sort of fellow dangling round at 
 times ? " he suggested, but Amelie suddenly remembered 
 business. 
 
 " Wot can I give you, sir ? " she asked, and destroyed the 
 first faint sketch of a very flowery compliment that had just 
 occurred to Archie. 
 
 " Dreams ! " he said, a little suddenly, for fine compli 
 ments were difficult to him, and he disliked to feel one 
 spoilt in the making. 
 
 Miss Rivers seemed neither to notice his sulkiness nor to 
 think his request for " Dreams " peculiar. She turned to 
 the case behind her, and brought out a packet of cigarettes. 
 Archie threw down his cigarette-case on the counter, but 
 held out his hand for the packet. 
 
 " Let s see the wrapper ! " he demanded, and Miss Rivers 
 gave it to him. " It s nothing new," she said. 
 
 " We are the stuff that dreams are made of. : Archie 
 read this out aloud, and then gave her the packet again, 
 with a sniff. 
 
 " The fellow s got no imagination ! " he told her. " It s 
 always the same old thing." 
 
 " Thirteen Dreams for a shilling, Miss Rivers said, with
 
 MISS RIVERS RECEIVES A VISIT 57 
 
 an absent-minded air, and then returning to business, 
 " Good thick uns too, and just as good cigarettes as there 
 are in the market. What more do you want, Mr. Inch ? 
 You gentlemen expect so much." 
 
 She said this with a little flutter, and a sigh that made 
 x\rchie inclined to suggest that a kiss into the bargain would 
 make a packet of " Dreams " a satisfactory investment. He 
 had, however, got a swinging box on the ear just before the 
 summer vacation for trying to snatch a kiss over the coun 
 ter, and the memory of it and of the accompanying threat 
 to refuse to serve him, made the young man restrain him 
 self. 
 
 " The cigarettes are good enough," he grumbled, 
 " though I don t suppose anyone knows of em or buys em 
 but me. \Vhat I say is, the fellow misses his chance. Say a 
 chap comes in for a cigarette, just to smoke on the way down 
 Princes Street, or something of that kind. ( Dreams ! he 
 says, and picks up the packet and reads 
 
 We are the stuff that " dreams " are made of. 
 
 Same old motto, he grumbles, and picks out his cigarette, 
 and lays down his penny, and off he goes. But s posin now 
 he comes in for one, and sees somethin fresh an fetchin 
 like oh, well, somethin like those scribblin fellers can run 
 off as easily as winkin , about, say, dream and gleam (of 
 hope, don t you know), or cloud and shroud (of despair or 
 death, or something of that kind), and smoke and, well, 
 something cynical and bitter, ten to one he ll buy the whole 
 packet for the sake of the wrapper, an take it off to his 
 girl." 
 
 " Well ! " said Miss Rivers, admiringly, " I didn t know 
 you were so clever, Mr. Inch, an that s a fact. My ! I be 
 lieve you could make em up yourself as easily as anyone." 
 
 " I don t say I couldn t if I was to sit down and give my 
 self up to it. Specially as I feel sometimes," and here he
 
 58 MR. PETERS 
 
 cast a woful glance at Amelie that made her look a little 
 self-conscious in spite of attempts to keep business-like. 
 
 " There s more variety on the ounce packet of pipe mixt 
 ure," she said, just to turn the conversation, and she took 
 down half a dozen packets and laid them out on the counter 
 for Archie to read 
 
 Smoke and forget, for day by day 
 Trouble like smoke will pass away. 
 
 When tired of fame, and wine, and kiss, 
 Turn to your pipe, and dream with this. 
 
 " H m, h m," he went on over two or three more. 
 " They re all very well, I daresay, Miss Rivers, for old chaps 
 who ve had their fling, you know, and think everything s a 
 farce because they don t feel it like they did. I don t know 
 that a man s sure to be right either because he don t think as 
 he used to, you know. They re not the rhymes for young 
 chaps anyway." 
 
 Archie shook his head wisely over this, and Miss Rivers 
 secretly admired his wisdom more than she cared to own 
 even to herself, so she talked on. 
 
 " That s a notion o yours about the cigarettes, Mr. Inch, 
 though whether the young men dropping in here for a box 
 of matches or an ounce of Dream Mixture think so much 
 about the ladies as you suppose, I can t say I m sure. I 
 can t believe all young gentlemen are so silly." 
 
 " Perhaps they aren t," Archie allowed, " perhaps they ve 
 no reason to be." 
 
 " Well," Miss Rivers promised, " I ll see what can be done 
 about those Dreams anyway ! My master s due round to 
 night, or some night soon, to look at the books and things, 
 and I ll be sure to tell him of your idea." 
 
 " Who s your master ? " asked Archie. 
 
 " That s private," Miss Rivers answered promptly. " He s
 
 MISS RIVERS RECEIVES A VISIT 59 
 
 a gentleman, Mr. Inch, and that s all you or I need to 
 know." 
 
 " A gentleman, is he, and keeps a tobacco shop ? Tell us 
 another, Miss Kivers ! " 
 
 " Yes, a gentleman," persisted Miss Rivers angrily, lean 
 ing a little over the counter, her weight upon her tightly 
 clenched fists. " P r aps you ll say next I m no lady cause 
 I see to the shop for him ? " 
 
 " Don t be angry, Miss Rivers; I was only chaffing. It s 
 awfully hard to say what a gentleman is nowadays." 
 
 " Is it ? I ll tell you then a gentleman s one who minds 
 his own business, Mr. Inch. I don t care to know no other 
 sort either." 
 
 She glanced over the counter at him, and he glared back, 
 his temper and his color beginning to rise too. 
 
 " I wish your master, since he s such a fine gentleman, 
 would teach you manners," he retorted, moving towards the 
 door. 
 
 " You might go and get some lessons yourself since you ve 
 so much money to pay for em," Miss Rivers informed him, 
 haughtily. " I needn t go to him for lessons either, Mr. 
 Inch. There s other gentlemen come in sometimes who 
 could teach you a lot. They don t go insulting a poor girl 
 because she tries to earn an honest living either ! " And 
 satisfied with that parting shot, she bounced behind the 
 curtain, and plumping down upon the little settee, thrust 
 fingers into both ears, lest he should retort in such fashion 
 as to bring her out again. But Archie Inch did nothing of 
 the kind. He stared blankly at the curtain for half a 
 minute, and then, jingling his spurs more than ever, strode 
 out of the shop -with what little chin he had thrust well 
 forward. He didn t dash on to the back of any fiery steed 
 and gallop off his perturbation. In truth, I can t swear that 
 he had planned a ride for that morning. But he went home, 
 not so ready to greet friends as he had been earlier, and tell-
 
 60 MR. PETERS 
 
 ing himself that, by Jove, though Emily was always Al, he 
 didn t know how ripping she could look until that morning. 
 Nevertheless, he wasn t altogether satisfied with the result, 
 and spent a long time, and several " Dreams," in trying to 
 remember exactly what all the fuss was about, and in won 
 dering how he could put things right.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 MR PETERS IS PHILANTHROPIC 
 
 AT Mrs. Jimps table that evening Mr. Peters was un 
 usually silent; and Mrs. Jimps, who considered him in 
 many ways the pattern of a Paying Guest, noticed that si 
 lence, and was uneasy. Finding that partridges were plen 
 tiful and cheap that day, she had bought a brace, and had 
 carved them herself, marking them on the menu as a hors 
 d ceuvre. 
 
 " Our Annie " perhaps through carelessness, perhaps 
 through malice, for she had never forgotten or forgiven the 
 cigar-trick had bestowed upon Mr. Peters a drumstick, 
 instead of the wing with a slice of the breast which Mrs. 
 Jimps had intended for him. 
 
 That better portion had been practically wasted, thrown 
 away upon a mere wanderer who was to leave for the ends 
 of the earth to-morrow morning, while Mr. Peters, to all 
 appearance, might be considered in the light of a small 
 annuity. 
 
 Was he vexed ? 
 
 " I hope," said Mrs. Jimps, hiding her anxiety with a 
 smile, " that the partridges were good ? There was not 
 much of them, I know, but little and good, I do hope. 
 Mr. Peters, was your partridge good ? " 
 
 " He was an active bird," said Mr. Peters sententiously. 
 " I hope he was good, madam." 
 
 Mrs. Jimps gave a little sigh of relief under her breath, 
 for this, from him, was quite a joke. 
 
 " A most sarcastic gentleman," she said, playfully, to her 
 right-hand neighbor, who, being an American tourist, and 
 acquainted with " Brown of Calaveras," puzzled Mrs. Jimps
 
 62 MR. PETERS 
 
 by surveying Mr. Peters with a well-affected air of terror, 
 and saying that he was sorry to hear it. 
 
 As dinner proceeded, she was quite sure there was noth 
 ing wrong that, if anything, something had happened to 
 please Mr. Peters. Much to her delight, he joined in a lit 
 tle discussion on Providence, which began in an undertone 
 between two new-comers, who didn t know or didn t re 
 gard Mrs. J imps dislike for the introduction of such topics 
 at table. Someone was sure to be offended, she always 
 thought, but since it had begun she was glad that Mr. 
 Peters voice boomed in from the other end of the table, 
 silencing the dilettanti by a pious declaration of belief. He 
 spoke of Fate, instead of using the word Providence, but his 
 tone left no doubt in Mrs. Jimps mind that he meant the 
 same thing, and spoke from some striking personal experi 
 ence. Mrs. Jimps loved a story, and as she rose from the 
 table she made up her mind that Mr. Peters should give her 
 the benefit of his experience, but she was not to have the 
 pleasure that night. 
 
 " Mr. Peters, if it isn t too much trouble for you to look 
 in at my sitting-room as you go upstairs, I would like to give 
 you a receipt and some change that I owe you. Or may I 
 come up with it ? I never like putting temptation in the 
 way of servants," Mrs. Jimps explained, for the benefit of 
 the world at large, " however honest they may be." 
 
 " It is safe in your hands, my dear madam," said Peters, 
 waving the matter aside with an expressive movement of 
 a very muscular hand. " For me, I have promised myself 
 the pleasure of meeting a lady friend and cannot stay." 
 
 So frank ! as Mrs. Jimps pointed out to the others who 
 were present, and with such a pleasant foreign way with 
 him. Suave ? Yes ! That expressed it exactly, and she 
 retired, smiling, to her little sitting-room, whence she pres 
 ently heard Mr. Peters go out. 
 
 That same evening Lucius Moriarty grew restless after
 
 MR. PETERS IS PHILANTHROPIC 63 
 
 dinner. He hummed and ha d in the drawing-room, taking 
 up and throwing down, one after another, the new books 
 which Nell had put there for him to look over. The two 
 had dined together at seven, and by half-past eight Lucius 
 was fidgeting with the drawing-room blinds and comment 
 ing on the weather. 
 
 " It s a fine night for a stroll," he announced at last. 
 
 " I ll go for a walk with you, dear, if you like," Nell told 
 him, dutifully, and Lucius was rather discomfited. 
 
 " H m ! I don t know," and he shook his head suspi 
 ciously. " It s the night for doing up your books, you ll re 
 member. I can t have ye neglecting these things just to 
 give me company." 
 
 " They re done ! " said Nell proudly. " Balanced to a 
 ha penny, and I ve not had to put in anything to make up." 
 
 " Well, well, you ll do in time as well as any of em, I 
 daresay," Lucius allowed, with a gruffness that he thought 
 made him a perfect imitation of the Roman Father. 
 
 " I don t want any cheese-paring, you know, but I can t 
 have waste. Those women downstairs d send us to the 
 workhouse in twelve months if you and I didn t keep an eye 
 on em, remember that ! " 
 
 " Yes, dear. Cook wants two pounds rise next month." 
 
 " Two pounds rise ! She wants the sack, that s what she 
 wants," said Lucius defiantly, " and she ll get it too." 
 
 " All right, dad. I ll tell her to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Tell her what ? " 
 
 "Tell her she ll get the sack. That s what you said, 
 wasn t it ? " 
 
 Lucius looked at her and gaped in amazement. : You ve 
 got a heart of stone ! " he decided. " I never saw such a 
 girl though I know you re all the same nowadays. You ve 
 no compassion. Are ye your mother s daughter ? Why 
 when she was your age I was courtin her, an her heart 
 was as soft "
 
 64 MK. PETERS 
 
 " Dad, how young ! " 
 
 Nelly threw up her hands, and Lucius, perceiving when 
 it was too late that he had been rash, fled speechless. 
 
 " Sha n t I come ? " Nelly called down over the stair as 
 well as she could for laughing, but all she got back was a 
 broken murmur, " Telegram news club on way back 
 can t take you in," as the door banged. So she had her 
 laugh out by herself, and then called up cook to settle the 
 question of higher wages, and to mention one or two little 
 things which she would expect to have more carefully seen 
 to in consequence. 
 
 Meanwhile Lucius, whose gruffness seemed to have some 
 how got left behind as he banged the hall door, went chuck 
 ling upon his way. 
 
 " A woman could always do what she liked with you," he 
 acknowledged to himself. " And she s cuter than most by 
 a long way." 
 
 It was a fine night, as he had told Nell, and at first Lucius 
 went along in the breezy, open way which was natural to 
 him, he being always glad to meet a friend, and generally 
 finding one before he had gone far. But to-night this could 
 not last, such shameful changes are wrought by a wish for 
 secrecy. It was not long before Lucius coat-collar was 
 turned up, and his face bent down. By the time he reached 
 the narrower by-ways at the back of Princes Street, he was 
 a figure at which any observant constable would look with 
 suspicion. He slunk along on the more shadowy side of the 
 street, and seemed to be passing Miss Rivers premises as 
 carelessly as any other place, when he suddenly made a dive 
 at the door, as a rabbit dives for shelter in its burrow, but 
 drew back hurriedly. 
 
 " A customer, begor ! " said Lucius, very much flurried, 
 and slunk on to the next shadow, where he waited with an 
 eye on the little path of light that led through the open 
 door into the presence of Miss Rivers.
 
 MR. PETERS IS PHILANTHROPIC 65 
 
 " By golly ! " he thought, as some such figure of speech 
 occurred to him. " Something might he made o that. 
 Shrine, dine, no, that won t do; wine, no, divine s better, 
 but what s an old chap like you got to do with such things ? 
 The Dream-Mixture things ain t so bad, quite philosophic, 
 some of em, but if ever this fad o yours got known among 
 the boys at the Exchange, an any such like things could 
 be fathered on you, begor ! you might as well get into one 
 of your own flour sacks an go off the far end o Leith Pier 
 at once. Long time that chap is buying a cigar or a box o 
 matches ! " 
 
 That was quite true. Mr. Peters, whose broad back 
 Lucius had not given himself time to recognize, was taking 
 what would have been an unnecessarily long time to buy a 
 box of matches, but then he had more important business 
 on hand. 
 
 When he first reached the shop, Miss Rivers was what she 
 herself would have called " stand-offish." 
 
 Mr. Peters, in bowing over the hand not too readily ex 
 tended to him across the counter, had playfully pretended 
 to kiss it, and Miss Rivers was wroth. 
 
 " I ate those nasty foreign ways," she snapped out at the 
 aggrieved Peters. " Give me the ways of an honest Eng 
 lishman or Scotchman, for the matter o that." 
 
 Mr. Peters, who had called there more than once lately in 
 passing, kept a philosophic silence, and, taking a match, sat 
 down, while Amelie regarded him almost with hatred. 
 Hadn t she, as she put it, cast him up against Mr. Inch only 
 that morning, though not by name, and hadn t Mr. Inch 
 said more than he meant because of it ? Wasn t Peters, 
 therefore, justly to be blamed for tears that had fallen 
 since ? So she jerked about a little, putting things straight 
 behind the counter, while Mr. Peters smoked on in silence 
 and humility. 
 
 " You might speak, Cap n Peters," she said at last, rather 
 
 5
 
 66 MR. PETERS 
 
 pleased at his complete submission., " I don t know as I told 
 you not to." 
 
 " I do not know that I have anything to say, now," med 
 itated " Cap n " Peters deliberately. " It is so easy to be 
 wrong and to offend." 
 
 This was obviously a thing he would do anything to 
 avoid, and Amelie was gratified. 
 
 " If you don t know that you ve anything to say, now, 
 say what you had to say, then," she told him. " You know 
 I don t always mean all I say. The shop gits on one s 
 nerves sometimes. Sometimes it s lonely, too." 
 
 " It is exercise that you need," sagely suggested Mr. 
 Peters, who bad never felt the need of it in his life, though 
 at times he had been forced to take a good deal. 
 
 " You are losing your so good color," he added, with a 
 concerned air. 
 
 " Exercise ! me ! " ejaculated Amelie. " What d you 
 recommend ? A unter, an will you mind the shop ? " 
 
 " A bicycle," he suggested, ignoring the sarcasm. 
 
 " Oo are you gittin at ? " asked Amelie, her temper be 
 ginning to rise again. " Go s goin to let me have a bike ? 
 D you think I can pay for one, or lessons either ? " 
 
 " One may hire, and one may teach," returned Mr. Peters, 
 dropping the short stump of his cigar into the spittoon at 
 his feet. He then leant forward, and, taking a " Dream " 
 from the open box upon the counter, laid down a penny and 
 relapsed into silence. 
 
 " Who d hire and who d teach ? " 
 
 " I might," said Mr. Peters, calmly. 
 
 " You ! What s your little game, Cap n Peters ? " 
 
 Amelie flushed slightly, and, drawing herself up from the 
 counter on which she had been leaning, looked at him sus 
 piciously, but Peters smoked on unmoved. 
 
 " My very little game is exercise," he confided to her. " I 
 am a big man, and I grow fat. It is not good. I eat, I
 
 MR. PETERS IS PHILANTHROPIC 67 
 
 drink., I smoke, I sleep, all too much in this city. Soon 
 Giuseppe Peters will have a fat heart and die." 
 
 " Lor ! " said Miss Elvers, rather touched by this, " you 
 mustn t say such things, it s wicked." 
 
 But Mr. Peters nodded his head with an air of mild 
 desperation. " It will be so," he predicted, and relapsed 
 into silence again. 
 
 " See me biking ! " ejaculated Amelie, and became lost 
 in contemplation of such bliss. 
 
 This was a joy that Mr. Inch had never hinted at. Her 
 color was going, too, she knew, and Amelie cared as much 
 for her complexion, strangely enough, as any fine lady. 
 
 " I feel my heart after dinner," explained Mr. Peters, and 
 thought of the partridge drumstick. 
 
 " Course I d love it awful ! " admitted Amelie. " If 
 twould do you good, too, why so much gained ! But you 
 men, who s to believe you ? What d my young man say, 
 too ? " 
 
 This last was an inspiration, and she watched Peters nar 
 rowly for the effect, but he was quite unmoved. 
 
 " Ah ! " he responded, " I did not know. My best con 
 gratulations. Why has he not seen to this ? Let him come 
 too." 
 
 " I didn t say I had one," retorted Amelie, and then she 
 considered the matter, while Peters smoked and watched. 
 After all, she thought, Captain Peters had never been rude. 
 Now she came to think of it, she was as mild as milk with 
 Mr. Inch until he as good as said she couldn t be a lady be 
 cause she kept a tobacconist s shop. Seemed to think, too, 
 that he could have everything all his own way. Well, she d 
 show him. 
 
 " How could I get out ? " she asked a bit fretfully. 
 " Eight-thirty to eleven. Them s the hours for this place. 
 You wouldn t teach me down Princes Street after that, 
 would you ? "
 
 68 Mil. PP1TERS 
 
 " We will not have all the world to see your first efforts," 
 Mr. Peters told her, gravely. " They will be comic. But in 
 the Queensferry Koad, for example ? We would meet at 
 half-past seven. That is quite possible. You after your 
 breakfast, for digestion, and I before mine, for appetite. 
 Think of your color ! " and he got up and passed out. 
 
 " Well, ta, ta," said Miss Elvers. " I ll think about it," 
 and she was doing so, carefully, a couple of minutes later, 
 when Lucius walked in.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 LUCIUS LOOKS INTO THINGS 
 
 HE nodded to Amelie, and, giving a quick glance round 
 to see how things looked, went, as usual, straight into the 
 little room beyond. Here the gas was lit, as, indeed, it was 
 almost always, unfortunately for poor Amelie s complexion. 
 The books in which she kept her accounts \vere put out 
 upon her little table. 
 
 Once settled down to them, with Amelie at his elbow to 
 give any necessary explanations, Lucius adopted somewhat 
 of that stern, inquisitorial air which he thought the correct 
 tiling at home, while Amelie, poor girl, not knowing him so 
 well as Nell did, trembled a little. She wished she could 
 have had a more profitable month than was shown by the 
 books over which Lucius pursed his lips and shook his head. 
 
 " There s no profit here, Miss Rivers," he said at last, and 
 poor Amelie had to admit it. 
 
 " I believe trade s bad everywhere just now, sir," she sug 
 gested, and Lucius nodded more gravely than ever. 
 
 " That s true," he said. " A man can t afford to chuck 
 money away on fads nowadays," and Amelie s heart sank. 
 
 " I do my best," she told him. " I don t know as I can do 
 more, or as anyone else could do better, but if you could tell 
 me anything, sir, I d try it." 
 
 " Xo doubt, no doubt," agreed Lucius gruffly; "wouldn t 
 have you here else," and he bit the end of the pen, which 
 was a habit of his, and glared at the figures as if they had 
 personally insulted him.
 
 70 MR. PETERS 
 
 " There was a young gentleman in this mornin ," Amelie 
 went on, trying to be hopeful, " an I thought he said some 
 thing very clever." 
 
 " Hey ! What s that ? " asked Lucius, waking up from a 
 brown study. 
 
 " If we could get different verses to put on the Dreams, 
 he said, young chaps might buy em to take home, and so 
 they d sometimes take a packet, or a box even, instead of 
 one or two. As it is," she added, " they d rather, I mean 
 a most as soon, take Dimitrinos or Melacrinos." 
 
 " Would they ? " returned Lucius gruffly. " More fools 
 they. Mine are just as good, and bigger. Special brand. 
 Can t get em anywhere else ! " 
 
 " They re awful good they say," Amelie told him ear 
 nestly, " and this young gentleman was very friendly like, 
 an give me this idea." 
 
 " Very friendly like, was he ? " grumbled Lucius. 
 " Hope you don t encourage young gentlemen to come 
 round here, Miss Eivers. Bad for them and bad for you, ye 
 know." 
 
 " I can t drive em away, sir, can I ? " objected Amelie, 
 her voice quavering a little. " It would spoil the business, 
 wouldn t it ? " 
 
 " Of course, of course," agreed Lucius hastily (" You 
 darned old fool ? " he muttered to himself under his 
 breath). " Only, of course, you ve yourself to think of as 
 well as the shop, don t you know. That s all, my dear. I ll 
 think over what you say about the Dreams. Never touch 
 em myself." 
 
 " They re awful good," repeated Amelie, with conviction, 
 somewhat cheered. 
 
 " Don t smoke yourself, I hope ! " suggested Lucius 
 sharply. 
 
 " I tried once, sir," Miss Rivers had to admit. " I thought 
 I d like to be able to say I knew they was good, but but I
 
 LUCIUS LOOKS INTO THINGS 71 
 
 wasn t well after, an I haven t tried again. I put a penny 
 in the till, sir." 
 
 " Tut, tut, I didn t mean that," said Lucius testily. 
 " Let s think now. D you miss anything by closing early ? 
 Or, often a man wants baccy on the way to his office. D you 
 open in good time ? What are your hours ? " 
 
 " Eight-thirty to eleven, sir," Amelie told him. " I ll try 
 eight to eleven-thirty, if you like. That would give us the 
 chance of an extra half-hour each way after the rest have 
 shut up/ 
 
 " Eight-thirty to eleven, and a half -hour tacked on each 
 way to that ! Good Lord ! Does the girl think I m a slave- 
 driver ? Nonsense, lassie, this must be seen to." 
 
 Lucius then got up and put on his overcoat, stamping as 
 he did so, to ease his mind a little. 
 
 " The others do it, so we must," Amelie insisted. " And 
 I hope you know I m doing my best, sir. I ve never thought 
 to complain, for I gets time to myself here for readin an so 
 on. I m glad to have such a place. There s lots would jump 
 out of their skins to-night to get it." 
 
 " Good Lord ! " was all Lucius felt inclined to say, and 
 he was out looking round the shop before he spoke again. 
 
 " It s stuffy in there, my dear," he said at last. " Better 
 read your book out here most times. You keep it clean and 
 tidy out here, I can see. And, lemme see, I haven t paid 
 you your month s wages, have I ? Here they are," and he 
 stamped back behind the curtain, and counted them out. 
 
 " Five shillings a month more now," he explained hur 
 riedly, " because you re doing so well. Good-night, good 
 night. Shut up at once an go home, an damn the other 
 people I mean good-night." 
 
 He hurried out, not waiting to hear her thanks, and went 
 away muttering down the street. 
 
 " Good Lord ! Eight-thirty to eleven. Fancy my Nell 
 doing that. Might have been Nell s luck, I s pose. A stuffy
 
 72 MR. PETERS 
 
 little hole like that. It s as dull as ditch water. Why I d 
 get screwed every pay-day, and leave the shop with the first 
 chap that looked at me, if that was me ! And to think I 
 thought I was doin the girl a charity. Plenty to jump out 
 of their skins for it ? Good Lord ! I must talk to Nell. 
 She s a woman, and she ll know more than I can about the 
 girl s chances." 
 
 He forgot all about the club, which he had intended to 
 call at for conscience sake, and went straight home. 
 
 There, over a glass of toddy and a pipe, he pretended to 
 read, but puzzled Xell at intervals with such questions as, 
 how would she like to keep a tobacconist s shop, what hours 
 the servants kept, and what holidays they got, and so on, 
 until she said good-night and went wondering to her room. 
 He threw down his book and went off too, soon after, mut 
 tering " eight-thirty to eleven. Good Lord ! " as he went.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 A PROFESSIONAL CONSULTATION 
 
 Ix a house not far from No. 45 Drumsheugh Gardens, 
 that confirmed bachelor and well-known physician, Dr. 
 Maitland, was sitting down to his dinner the same evening, 
 when his man handed him a note from Xo. 45. It was very 
 short. Its substance was that Lord Inch had come home 
 from his holiday and wished to see him. 
 
 " Will you, my dear Maitland, make a special exception 
 for an old friend and school-fellow, and allow me to come 
 round after dinner to have a cigar and a chat with you ? " 
 
 When Maitland, who was very short-sighted, had peered 
 into the note and mastered it, he sat back in his chair and 
 thought for awhile, regardless of the fact that the cover had 
 been removed from the soup-tureen, and the soup was get 
 ting cold. 
 
 " What s wrong, I wonder ? " he asked himself. " The 
 fellow hasn t been in here for years. At one time I thought 
 his wife came between us. But she s dead long ago, poor, 
 silly soul. What s wrong, I wonder ? " He sat pondering; 
 and then, " What an ass I am to think about a diagnosis 
 before seeing the case. Hey, what, Ross ? " this last was 
 aloud, as the man rather ostentatiously put the cover back 
 on the soup. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; wait a minute. Bring a card from my writ 
 ing-table." 
 
 lie took the card, and scribbling, " Come by all means; 
 coffee at 8.30," settled down to his dinner. 
 
 The dark, strongly marked, intellectual face was like a 
 mask to cover his thoughts. They disturbed neither his
 
 74 MR. PETERS 
 
 face nor his appetite, but he ate in silence without any of 
 the little remarks he was used to exchange with his old 
 servant, and in spite of his sagacious scouting of premature 
 diagnosis, Lord Inch continued to occupy his mind. 
 
 " Coffee in the consulting-room, Ross, when Lord Inch 
 comes," he said, as he rose from the table. " I m not at 
 home to anyone else to-night." 
 
 " The carriage, sir ? " Eoss suggested. 
 
 " I sha n t go out. Can t ! Tell Sandy he s not to wait. 
 After all, for old fogies like you and me, our own fireside s 
 best. Her ladyship s At Home won t miss me, Ross." 
 
 Ross, who considered his master would be a catch, as he 
 put it, " for ony lassie," and who was in mortal dread of any 
 change in the existing order of things, grunted and went 
 off gladly to tell the coachman, while Maitland crossed the 
 hall to his consulting-room. 
 
 Here he was sitting by a wood fire, with a book in his 
 hand, when Lord Inch was shown in, half an hour later. 
 
 He rose and shook hands, peering at the Judge as he did 
 so, and pointed to an easy-chair on the other side of the fire. 
 
 " Make yourself comfortable there," he said, " and try 
 those cigars. I got em a bargain, I think. Ross will bring us 
 our coffee, and then we can chat. Where have you been ? " 
 
 " In Switzerland most of the time," his visitor told him, 
 eying the cigar, " and a fortnight in Venice." 
 
 " Much overrated place," growled Maitland. 
 
 " Where were you ? " asked the other man, twisting his 
 cigar about between his fingers. 
 
 " Fishing in my own country. I don t half know it yet," 
 said Maitland, dryly, and Inch gave a little laugh. 
 
 " You ve the same sarcastic way I see, Alec," he told him. 
 " You should marry." 
 
 It cost Maitland an effort to avoid a home thrust at that, 
 but he choked it down as the coffee came in, and looked on 
 in silence while Inch stirred his without touching; it.
 
 A PROFESSIONAL CONSULTATION 75 
 
 " How s the boy ? " he asked presently. 
 
 " In rude health, I believe," answered the other, staring 
 at the fire. " He won t set the Thames ablaze, Alec." 
 
 " Which of us will, man ? " retorted the doctor. " But 
 we re both useful members of society, I think. Many 
 Youngsters would wish nothing higher than to have my 
 practice or your place at the Parliament House. I don t 
 suppose our young days were all they might have been 
 either," he added meditatively. " We gained experience 
 though, and made the most of that, I believe." 
 
 The Judge frowned a little, and Maitland noticed it. 
 
 " You were a canny lad, Inch," he said. " You always 
 knew the worth of a good reputation too well to go wrong, 
 and I don t suppose you ve any shortcomings of your own 
 to mind, when you re wigging a poor devil in the dock. I 
 wish I d as clean a record ! What can I do for you to 
 night ? Nothing professional, I hope." 
 
 " I don t know," returned the other, getting up and 
 leaning against the mantel-piece with his back to the fire. 
 " Probably it s nothing at all. I expect I just want a tonic 
 and a chat with an old friend to cheer me up. A touch of 
 liver, I daresay, Maitland ? " 
 
 " Very likely," Maitland agreed, scanning him. " Those 
 beastly foreign hotels, with their vile-made dishes of the 
 Lord knows what, except that it isn t honest beef or mutton 
 they re quite enough to account for anything, Inch. 
 Now, next year you should come North with me, and rough 
 it a little." 
 
 He switched on another electric light in a movable lamp 
 as he spoke, and put that on the mantel-piece. 
 
 " Tell me all about it," he said, and leant with one 
 shoulder against the mantel-piece facing Lord Inch, while 
 he listened in silence to a slightly disjointed story, told in a 
 somewhat apologetic way. 
 
 " It will be liver, won t it ? " Lord Inch suggested. " I m
 
 76 MK. PETERS 
 
 not an active man, you know, Maitland. Sitting still most 
 of the day, you know, during session, and perhaps dining 
 out too often. I found myself not so young as I used to be 
 when we tried a little bit of climbing, the boy and I. Not 
 in training, you know, I got fagged pretty quickly, and, in 
 fact, gave it up. Short of wind, and stitch in the side, and 
 all that sort of thing." 
 
 He began stripping the outer leaf off the cigar which he 
 had all the time in his hand, and Maitland watched him 
 curiously. As the story went on, and as he watched the 
 other, his face, which had shown every little change of feel 
 ing while they spoke as old school-fellows, became more 
 and more expressionless. It was a professional mask 
 again, showing little movement, except in the bright peer 
 ing eyes. 
 
 " I thought." Lord Inch went on, " of a little horse ex 
 ercise with the boy in the morning before the Courts sat, 
 and if you d give me a tonic, that would probably be all I 
 need." 
 
 " Ah, yes," Maitland agreed. " Very likely. We ll see 
 presently. What more ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing, I think. I get stupid and depressed about 
 nothing nowadays. I don t get through my work so light- 
 heartedly as I did. I m getting elderly and rheumatic, I 
 suppose." 
 
 " What makes you suspect rheumatism ? " asked Mait 
 land. 
 
 " Oh, aches and pains, you know aches and pains. Old 
 bones, as my nurse Macgregor told iis bairns in the nursery 
 days. You never knew nurse Macgregor ? She was before 
 your time, Alec. A wise woman was nurse Macgregor." 
 
 " She was before my time," agreed Maitland. " They re 
 rare cattle, Inch, are wise women. Whiles I doubt if ever 
 I met one, save my mother. Kheuinatism, you say. Where 
 does it catch you ? "
 
 A PROFESSIONAL CONSULTATION 77 
 
 " Between the shoulders, just now and then," said Inch 
 shrugging his shoulders as he spoke. 
 
 " Ay, anywhere else ? " 
 
 " It runs down the left arm a bit at times," the other 
 explained, " and it seems to me I m going to have a touch of 
 it now." 
 
 As he spoke the man drew himself together, staring at the 
 doctor with a look of unreasoning dread. His face was con 
 torted, his lips ashy pale. He seemed terrified to move, 
 even to breathe. 
 
 The doctor watched for a second or two, and then, mov 
 ing quietly but swiftly to a cabinet in a corner of the room, 
 came back with his handkerchief held out before him. 
 
 " Smell this ! " he said peremptorily, and held it in 
 position. 
 
 A faint smell, as of pine-apples, spread through the room, 
 but for some moments yet there was no difference in the 
 man s attitude. He still clung to the mantel-piece, shrink 
 ing into himself, as it were, before some vague horror. 
 Then a little tinge of color came back, and grew upon his 
 gradually parting lips. He took a deeper breath, and even 
 shifted his position a little, as a man might who had felt the 
 ground slipping away beneath him, but now hoped it might 
 be stable once more. When Maitland saw this, he wheeled a 
 sofa before the fire, and then slipped an arm around the 
 other. 
 
 " You ll do now," he told him quietly. " Lie down here 
 awhile," and helped him to the sofa. 
 
 " There," he said, " it s all over. Just lie quiet for a few 
 minutes, and don t worry, man. Then we can go on with 
 our chat quite well, and I ll have a look at your chest where 
 you are, as a matter of form." 
 
 Lord Inch s forehead was damp with beads of sweat. He 
 felt for his handkerchief and passed it across his face, but 
 did nothing else, and Maitland did nothing to disturb him.
 
 78 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Better now ? " he said at last, and when Inch nodded, 
 he knelt by the sofa, and began deftly to loosen his clothing 
 about the chest. 
 
 " I ll just run you over and have done with it," he ex 
 plained, and examined in different ways with the quiet and 
 certain touch of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. 
 
 After that he rose from his knees and sat down again, a 
 trifle behind Lord Inch s head, looking at him meditatively 
 from under shaggy eyebrows, and rubbing the side of his 
 nose with the right forefinger, which was a trick of his when 
 perplexed. 
 
 " All right now ! " he suggested. 
 
 " Yes," Lord Inch answered, and moved as if to get up, 
 but a hand on his shoulder kept him back. " I am all right, 
 am I not ? " he asked, with a little laugh, turning his head 
 to see Maitland s face. He might just as well have looked 
 at the fire, burning quietly in the grate, or at the opposite 
 wall. The face was wooden, impenetrable, stolid. 
 
 " I wouldn t say that quite," Maitland told him. " You 
 might go off and do something fair daft on the strength of 
 it. Laddies of our age, Inch, mustn t take up football, or 
 mountaineering, at a moment s notice. Not many fellows 
 are as right as they once were, at your age and mine." 
 
 " I m only fifty," said Lord Inch pettishly. " I don t 
 want to play the fool at football or anything else, as you 
 know perfectly well, Maitland. As for that, I met Erle- 
 stoun last night at the club, and he told me he was tramp 
 ing his moors after grouse for a month beyond the Twelfth ; 
 played a salmon for two hours and a-half, too, and landed 
 him. Why, the man s seventy if he s a day ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes," Maitland agreed. " That s true enough. 
 But, mind you, he s done that, or more, since he was seven 
 teen. You and I couldn t afford that, Inch, then, so we 
 pay extra for it if we try now. Man, all I want is for you 
 to take it a bit easy for awhile."
 
 A PROFESSIONAL CONSULTATION 79 
 
 " Is it anything more than rheumatism and liver ? " de 
 manded Lord Inch, sitting up and facing round. 
 
 " I won t say but what they might have a great deal to 
 do with your bothers," said Maitland cautiously, " but you 
 must treat them with respect for awhile. Take life easy, 
 man, and take notice you re under doctor s orders for the 
 time. Does your work press upon you ? Could you put it 
 aside this winter ? " 
 
 " I should yawn myself to death," Lord Inch said fret 
 fully. " I shouldn t know what to do. Besides, between 
 you and me, who d do my work in the Division ? There s 
 Doune and Sauchie, the Lord knows they aren t over 
 worked, but you know them and the President looks to 
 me to read up most of the heavy cases. Between ourselves, 
 as men of the world, do you suppose they could do more, 
 or at least do it as the public expects and demands it should 
 be done ? There will be some stiff Jury Trials before 
 the Christmas Recess. I can t think of putting work aside, 
 .Maitland." 
 
 " Ay, there s no one like our bonnie selves," muttered 
 Maitland, but Lord Inch never heard him, and went on. 
 
 " Privately, too, and of course one can talk frankly to 
 one s medical adviser, there s some talk of a Royal Commis 
 sion coming my way. That s our only chance of promotion, 
 Maitland, and I mustn t miss it. It isn t as if I were really 
 ill, you know." 
 
 " Well, well," Maitland agreed. " You do as I tell you 
 for the time, and we ll see how you get on. I shall give you 
 a call in a day or two. You ve things pretty much your own 
 way up at the Parliament House, I expect," he suggested, 
 smiling grimly. " The other fellows do the fighting." 
 
 " Yes, just so," and Lord Inch laughed dryly. " We give 
 away the prizes, you know." He paused, and then spoke 
 more gravely. " My heart s in it, Maitland. I ll go higher 
 yet if I get the chance, I tell you. Just you help me to get
 
 80 MR. PETERS 
 
 rid of the rheumatism and all the other isms, and you shall 
 see. I believe it would kill me if ever I had to resign. But, 
 of course, you haven t even suggested that." 
 
 " No, no," Maitland replied hastily. " I never thought of 
 it. But just care, you know, and keeping clear of worry and 
 excitement for the present. No personal affairs to trouble 
 you ? Of course not." 
 
 " No, no. Everything cut and dried, my dear Maitland. 
 I hear my cases, and draw my salary, and leave everything 
 else to my clerk." 
 
 " That s right ! " Maitland nodded approvingly. " Noth 
 ing like business habits, so I m told, to keep a man clear of 
 bothers. Never had business habits myself, but no doubt 
 they re excellent things. I ll just make a note of a few sug 
 gestions, so that you may bear them in mind, and I ll see 
 you again in four days or so, after you ve been taking some 
 thing I m going to prescribe." 
 
 He scribbled at his desk for a few minutes, while Lord 
 Inch sat and stared at the fire. The Judge, to give him his 
 due, was not a timid man or a hypochondriac. He had firm 
 faith, too, in his old friend Maitland, and was ready to place 
 himself unreservedly in Maitland s hands. 
 
 Something else was occupying his thoughts now. Mait 
 land s remark on a clean record brought to his mind what 
 had seldom been out of it lately the lynching of five-and- 
 twenty years ago. It was significant of the man s estimate 
 of himself that he never doubted but what he had been the 
 chief agent in bringing that trial to its unhappy end. This 
 feeling was now exaggerated by ill-health, and the Judge 
 felt very like a criminal. 
 
 Maitland finished his writing, and, slipping the paper into 
 an envelope, rose. 
 
 "Now that s done with for the time." he announced; 
 " let me tell Ross to bring you in something else instead of 
 cold coffee. I d drop coffee and cigars, if T were yon, for a
 
 A PROFESSIONAL CONSULTATION 81 
 
 few clays until you see how things go on. I ve not told you 
 about my fishing. No fights with salmon like Erlestoun s, 
 but just daundering along after the trout, in the sweetest 
 country I know, man ! Quite good enough for me ! " 
 
 " Yes, I d like a chat well enough," Lord Inch told him, 
 " but I ve some papers to go over before bedtime." 
 
 " Off you go, then ! " said Maitland. " You must keep 
 good hours while you re under my thumb. Will you drop 
 in again on Friday, or shall I come round and have a yarn 
 with you ? " 
 
 " Come round, if you will," said Inch. " Come to dinner. 
 No one but ourselves, for the boy will be out. I want to 
 show you some things I picked up in Venice." 
 
 This was agreed, and they moved through the hall. 
 Maitland let his friend out himself, and stood at the open 
 door watching him go down the street. 
 
 " Threatened men live long," he muttered. " The fellow 
 lives a regular, quiet life now. It s not the strain of his 
 young days, and I ll keep a quiet eye on him. I m not going 
 to frighten the man into his grave. I can say a little more 
 when I know a little more. Lord, the mistakes I ve seen 
 made by better men than myself, too." 
 
 So he went back to his consulting-room, and sat for an 
 other hour with a review, which, however, he often laid 
 aside to stare at the fire, and rub the side of a hawk nose 
 with a long forefinger.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 INTRODUCING AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 IT was just about this time that Alfred Buncombe, alias 
 Augustus B. Bunner, and as many other false names as he 
 had sins on his conscience almost, began to sigh for his 
 daughter, and for the domestic delights of a home. 
 
 Most of us have a virtue of some sort, we are told, and 
 Alfred Buncombe had such faith in his own virtue that he 
 always believed, and particularly insisted when maudlin- 
 drunk, which was often, that, with better luck and a mother 
 alive to look after him, he would have been a good man. 
 Since vice, one knows, is strictly confined to the poorer 
 classes, and folly is the portion of orphans, he may have 
 been right in saying this, but I never heard that he could 
 get anyone to believe him. From the time when he had 
 fled from Bonville, twenty-five years ago, he had been an 
 Ishmael of the lowest type, a sort of human jackal, whining 
 and snapping alternately, and living upon whatever he 
 could pick up. Not that his degradation began anywhere 
 near that date. He called himself an Oxford man, on the 
 strength of having, at a very early stage of University life, 
 been ignominiously hunted therefrom for swindling a fel 
 low-undergraduate. 
 
 An uncle who had tried to help him before, then 
 promptly closed his doors, sending Buncombe a check for a 
 hundred guineas, with a note to the effect that there would 
 be no more. 
 
 The last of the guineas, changed into dollars, went before 
 he was stranded in Bonville, and soon after that Buncombe 
 took to stealing horses, because he had special facilities, and
 
 INTRODUCING AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE 83 
 
 saw nothing else to steal more easily. It had been a chance, 
 which he really thought providential,, that had put the 
 Swiss into his saddle where the little Sheriff found him. 
 For Buncombe had turned aside to rest for a quarter of an 
 hour, and was hidden, gnashing his teeth at his luck, when 
 the honest Swiss, after looking in vain for the owner, 
 mounted and met the Sheriff. 
 
 After that escape, Buncombe came across the Atlantic 
 again. Here he married a woman very much better than 
 himself, a barmaid, who loved him, only herself could say 
 why, and who supported him while she could. Then two 
 years after Amelie s birth, finding the home not so com 
 fortable, and his wife s allegiance divided, he got what 
 money he could from her and went off again. He had 
 wandered everywhere, and tried all dishonesty. Port Said 
 knew him, and so did Galle. He had been in Cuba, and 
 once, vain hope, had expected to outdo the innocent and 
 unsophisticated Maltee in ship-chandlering on his own 
 island. 
 
 Twice in fourteen years he came home, each time, as was 
 quite natural for him, under a false name. His first visit 
 was made because he found himself in Constantinople with 
 no cash and less credit. So he shipped to London as a fire 
 man, and went to see if his wife was any better off than he 
 was. She hadn t tried to marry again, though ten years had 
 passed. Perhaps her first experience was enough. Bun 
 combe found her manageress at the public-house where she 
 had been barmaid, and, sponging on her, lived in clover for 
 three months. He stole the week s receipts from her one 
 Saturday night, and went off, leaving her to replace them 
 from a little store of her own. 
 
 Four years later he came again, believing himself to be 
 reformed. He had managed a successful swindle, and 
 would see what could be done, and how things would be for 
 him. If his wife had saved as she ought, they might even
 
 84 MR. PETERS 
 
 think of a business in a small way for themselves. But his 
 wife was dead, after a long and painful illness that had 
 finished her savings, and Buncombe cursed his luck again. 
 Melia he found in a tobacconist s out Tottenham way, her 
 mother having made her promise never to enter a public- 
 house or bar. So he spent a pound or two upon her ; very 
 little, but quite enough to make her look back upon her 
 father s appearance as if he had come in a shower of gold. 
 Then he disappeared mysteriously and suddenly. 
 
 This time the cause had been more urgent. In a drunken 
 row in an east-end of London bar, where half a dozen were 
 at rough and tumble, he had whipped out a knife and killed 
 a man who was struggling and swearing on the top of him. 
 The man suddenly, with a jerk, became quiet, and Bun 
 combe disappeared from a locality where he had never been 
 before, and never meant to go again. 
 
 The papers said that the murderer was unknown to the 
 police, but that they had a clue which they hadn t and 
 Buncombe, after waiting a twelvemonth or so, being sure 
 that his name was not known anywhere except where his 
 daughter was, wrote to her. If he had any virtue at all, it 
 was a sort of fondness for and pride in the girl. So he wrote 
 saying that she must address to him, post restante, New 
 York, and let him know of any change of situation, as he 
 had been called away to take part in a splendid speculation, 
 and would corne home to make a lady of her soon. 
 
 So poor Melia had written persistently, though she got 
 no more letters in reply, and read such novels as she could 
 get hold of, to keep her posted in the ways and doings of 
 that brilliant society which she was some day to surprise. 
 
 Buncombe got her letters, however, and the occasional 
 Scotsman which came with them after Melia migrated from 
 London to Edinburgh. He had access to and taste for little 
 literature beside, but letters and newspapers were carefully 
 read. In one of the latter he had seen that Hector Inch,
 
 INTRODUCING AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE 85 
 
 Esquire, advocate, had been raised to the bench, with the 
 title of Lord Inch. He remembered Inch perfectly well, 
 having attempted to prey upon him in the Bonville days on 
 the score of their both being university men, and he won 
 dered if this Hector Inch could be the same. 
 
 If so, he foresaw possibilities, but a sharp attack of de 
 lirium tremens cut short his speculations, and when he came 
 out of hospital, the task of merely keeping body and soul 
 together from day to day used up all his energy for some 
 time. 
 
 We meet him now, however, in New York in flourishing 
 circumstances. By a stroke of fortune, and the confiding 
 nature of a youngster from the old country, Mr. Buncombe, 
 posing as a land agent fond of a quiet game of cards, has 
 become possessed of about four hundred dollars. This hap 
 pened last night, and therefore, naturally, this morning 
 finds him in a drinking saloon. He drank steadily last 
 night ; he is drinking now, chatting with the bar-keeper, 
 who is not pressed for time, and making maudlin references 
 to his dear daughter in Edinburgh whom he so longs to see. 
 
 " Edinburgh ! " says the barman, " it s ma ain toon ! " 
 and, producing a Weekly Scotsman, with the suggestion 
 that he may like to look at it, turns to serve another cus 
 tomer. 
 
 The first thing that Buncombe sees is that the Courts, 
 having re-opened after the vacation, Lord Inch is trying 
 such and such a case, and then and there, braced to the 
 effort by the four hundred dollars and a series of stimulating 
 drinks, he makes up his mind to see Melia again, and at 
 the same time to find out what he can about the past history 
 of Lord Inch.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 MR. PETERS OFFENDS A LADY 
 
 ME. PETERS had not thought it necessary to tell Melia 
 that, before teaching her to cycle, he had to learn. That 
 did not trouble him. He had every confidence in himself as 
 perfectly able to do what other people did, and he was not 
 mistaken. 
 
 The morning after his chat with Melia he made his way, 
 soon after breakfast, to the Waverley Market, and, going to 
 the gallery there, looked down upon the picture of strug 
 gling humanity that presented itself. Here were learners 
 in all stages of desperation and despair, and Mr. Peters 
 watched them with grave interest. 
 
 A stout lady, perspiring and breathless, with a fixed stare, 
 and hair that was gradually coming down and separating 
 the false from the true, struggled between two struggling 
 supporters, and occasionally overwhelmed them, while sar 
 castic and audible comments came down from the onlookers 
 above. One or two men in knickerbockers wavered rather 
 uncertainly around. Two girls in irreproachable costume, 
 who had evidently come to practise together, were doing 
 loops and curves in one corner with astounding earnestness 
 and solemnity, and a child of thirteen or fourteen, fair- 
 haired, and enjoying herself tremendously, was whirring 
 about, frightening everybody but herself. 
 
 " Yon wumman 11 dee afore she rides," one interested 
 errand-boy told a friend, as he leant over to watch beside 
 Peters. " Ten days she s come, regular, an yon lassie here s 
 been five."
 
 MR. PETERS OFFENDS A LADY 87 
 
 " She s no fear d," said the other, craning over and chuck 
 ling with intense delight as the fat woman made wildly for a 
 pillar, and collapsed under the gallery. 
 
 " Come on ! " returned the first. " Wait a meenit. Let s 
 see the fat wumman again," pleaded the other, and they 
 did so. 
 
 Mr. Peters listened, and laughed when they went away. 
 Then he went down into the market, and the man in charge, 
 after a critical survey of his proportions, picked out a bi 
 cycle to correspond. 
 
 " I ll tak ye in hand masel ," he explained, but Peters 
 would have none of that. He moved the bicycle backward 
 and forward to test the steering, and then bestrode it with 
 one foot on the ground. 
 
 " A fall will not hurt me, my friend," he told the fellow 
 calmly. 
 
 " It s the bicycle I m rnindin ," the man explained rue 
 fully, but gave way at last, and Mr. Peters began his at 
 tempt. 
 
 When he finished half an hour later, it was as if he 
 had stepped from the hot-room of a Turkish bath, while 
 every prominent point in body and limbs was sore and 
 every muscle cramped, but he had gone, somehow, in the 
 end at least half a dozen yards before falling, and he was 
 content. 
 
 He did nothing else that morning, but after lunch went 
 down to Leith, and called upon Lucius at his office. The 
 junior clerk, who was beginning to take a gloomy view of 
 trade generally, as autumn drifted to winter and he felt the 
 draught more keenly, thought that his master was engaged, 
 but Lucius, having recognized Peters voice, opened the 
 door and greeted him heartily. 
 
 " Come away in, man, come away in," and Peters, enter 
 ing, found the room littered with invoices, bills of lading, 
 charter parties, letters, and telegrams.
 
 88 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Business is brisk ? " he inquired cheerfully, and Lucius 
 shook his head with a mournful air. 
 
 " Man, it s fair awful. Prices rising, an business pres 
 sing on me till I scarce see me daughter or me home from 
 one Sabbath to the next." 
 
 " That is good," suggested Peters, but Lucius was not so 
 sure. 
 
 " After all," he told him, " I don t know. God never 
 meant a man to live in an office or a warehouse either. And 
 it s always no trade and no money to spend, or you re half 
 killed with your business and you ve no time to spend your 
 money. Begor, it s insufferable. I d retire an live a decent, 
 quiet life if twasn t for the girl. A little farm in the coun 
 try. Peters, an a cow or two. That s my dream. But what 
 can I do for you ? Money ? " 
 
 Mr. Peters acknowledged that he wanted to draw some, 
 and Lucius sent the junior clerk out to cash a check for 
 a hundred pounds, which the junior clerk, naturally, being 
 cold, set forth to do in the most roundabout way, that he 
 might have the benefit of exercise. 
 
 " Anything else ? " asked Lucius, while they waited his 
 return, as if the only delight of a busy day was to turn aside 
 from business and serve a friend. 
 
 " Your courts of law are again open, I think ? " asked 
 Peters, and Lucius said they were. 
 
 " Your friend Mr. Dee kindly offered to show me all those 
 things," observed Peters. 
 
 " He did," said Lucius, " an he s a man o his word or no 
 friend o mine." 
 
 " Where would I find him ? " 
 
 " Wearin out the floor of the hall up there," said Lucius, 
 " unless he s helping an unfortunate man to play pitch-an - 
 toss in the courts." 
 
 " Pitch-and-toss ? " 
 
 " Ay, pitch-and-toss ! " growled Lucius, who had lately
 
 MR PETERS OFFENDS A LADY 89 
 
 carried an insurance case to the Parliament House, and was 
 still wondering whether to gain a case might not prove more 
 expensive than to let it alone. 
 
 " You aren t going to take your business there ? " he 
 asked, as a sudden fear for his friend s sanity struck him. 
 Peters assured him that he would not. 
 
 " I wish to pay," he repeated, and Lucius once more ex 
 pressed admiration for such a desire. 
 
 " If all me creditors did as much," he said, " begor, I d 
 look for a farm to-day. I d breed honest beef an mutton, 
 an see to me education. Man, ye d be shocked to know 
 
 me ignorance, an the books I haven t read. As it is 
 
 He stared disconsolately at the litter of business papers, "and 
 shrugged his shoulders apologetically. 
 
 " I ll take you up to see Dee to-morrow myself, if you 
 like," he suggested. " I ve got some fat in the fire there, 
 an I could see me agent then." 
 
 Peters expressed himself as grateful, but was unwilling to 
 trouble Lucius. 
 
 " No trouble at all," he was told. " I ll wait for the mid 
 day post, an go home. Lunch with me there at one, an 
 we ll go up an see fools fight about nothing, an part with 
 good money after that." 
 
 Too much business was evidently affecting Lucius diges 
 tion, and he smiled bitterly as he proposed this cynical form 
 of amusement. He was equally cynical when the junior 
 clerk came rushing in with every appearance of having run 
 all the way to the bank and back. 
 
 " A livin lie," he told Peters confidentially, " that I keep 
 on for the sake of that decent widow, his mother," and 
 Peters left him shaking his head bitterly over hypocrisy, as 
 he settled down once more at his desk. 
 
 As for Peters, he turned away towards the harbor. It was 
 a bleak autumn day, after a night with a keen touch of frost 
 that had silently loosened the leaves on the trees, ready to
 
 90 MR. PETERS 
 
 fall with the next wind, and the wind had come a keen, 
 blustering nor -easter, that was bringing down the leaves, 
 shivering and whispering inland, and heaping up the waters 
 of the Firth of Forth against the quays and piers of Leith. 
 
 Peters sniffed at the salt air, and made as straight against 
 the wind as the turns and windings of the place would let 
 him. The smell of the brine stirred him, and some sea 
 gulls, beaten inward, and screaming as they went, seemed to 
 call upon him for action. The keenness of the air did no 
 more than make him move a little more briskly against it, 
 while he hummed under his breath some quaint tune, of a 
 melancholy sound that was out of keeping with both place 
 and weather. Down at the pier-head the sea was coming in 
 in great green rollers, that broke against the stones and 
 burst into spray, which the wind carried far inward. A 
 steamer, a mile away towards the open sea, was plunging out 
 through the waves in a way that washed her from stem to 
 stern every few minutes, and Peters watched her for some 
 time before he looked closer to hand. When he did so, he 
 found that he had not the place to himself. 
 
 A woman, in a small, gray Tarn o Shanter cap and a 
 waterproof cloak, was crouching at a place where the small 
 lighthouse broke the force of the wind, and where she could 
 lean over and see the water close beneath. She had neither 
 seen Peters nor heard him, and she bent over, apparently 
 watching the dizzy race of the twisted eddies and whirling 
 bubbles, until his voice startled her. Then she turned so 
 quickly that she lost her balance, and was rocking on the 
 edge when his hand steadied her again. 
 
 It was Madge Murray. 
 
 " How you frightened me, Mr. Peters ! " she gasped, half- 
 laughing ; " I thought I was over ! " 
 
 " A little more," said Peters, " and - He did not 
 
 finish the sentence, but looked down at the water beneath, 
 and laughed as if amused.
 
 MR. PETERS OFFENDS A LADY 91 
 
 " It s all very well for you to laugh," Madge told him. 
 
 " What if I had gone ? Would you have fetched me ? " 
 
 She spoke lightly enough, but watched as if she meant her 
 question to be treated seriously. Peters, however, preferred 
 to think it a joke. 
 
 " At Mr. Moriarty s, where I had the honor of meeting 
 you," he told her, " you told me that you loved new what 
 was it, sensations ? This would have been one." 
 
 "Yes, but my last," Madge retorted pettishly, "if you 
 were so cowardly as to let me drown. A big man like you 
 can t be a coward, surely ? " 
 
 They were walking down the pier now, and she turned to 
 look up at him coquettishly as she spoke, but Mr. Peters 
 shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " What is a coward ? " he asked, and Madge stared at him. 
 
 " You would have been one if you hadn t jumped after 
 me at once, without hesitation," she said sharply. " But 
 you would have got me out, surely ? " 
 
 " Oh, I would have tried," Peters allowed, but didn t 
 seem at all anxious to pose as a life-preserver, or to say how 
 far he would have gone in trying. 
 
 " You can t swim, then," she said at last, as if that could 
 be the only explanation possible, but Peters did not seem 
 to think it worth while to deceive her. 
 
 " I swim well," he told her ; " I once swam and floated 
 for six hours." 
 
 " Then, of course, you would have picked me out like 
 nothing. How exciting it would have been ! I almost wish 
 I had fallen in, if it wasn t so cold. One looks so bad in 
 wet clothes too." 
 
 " It is well that you did not," Peters assured her, puffing 
 calmly at his cigar. " When I swam as I tell you, it was 
 because I must swim or drown. Also, the water w r as not 
 cold. There is always a danger in taking out anyone who is 
 drowning."
 
 92 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Which means that you would have stopped where you 
 were," she asked indignantly. " Well, I give you credit for 
 frankness and courage of a kind, Mr. Peters. A Scotsman 
 would have been afraid to say that. I think I m going the 
 other way. Good-afternoon ! " and with that she picked 
 her way across the docks in another direction, while Peters, 
 after bowing politely, went on undisturbed. Once he 
 stopped and spoke, though there was no one near him. 
 
 " As if a life mattered ! " he said, and then laughed and 
 passed on.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A MEETING OF MINOR POETS 
 
 Lucius was discontented after dinner that night, and 
 failed to find consolation even in a pipe of Dream Mixture, 
 taken with his favorite authors. Nelly also was somewhat 
 depressed, and even irritable. She sat with Lucius in his 
 little smoking-room, and darned socks in melancholy si 
 lence. 
 
 " The business," said Lucius, with a disconsolate air, " is 
 makin me mind a blank ! If the trade don t get depressed 
 soon, why I shall be just a rich uneducated ass ! Why 
 don t we ask some one in to brighten us up, Nell, my 
 dear ? " 
 
 " I don t feel that I want brightening, dad, thank you ! " 
 Nell answered, with some warmth, and Lucius, surprised at 
 her tone, took his pipe out of his mouth that he might look 
 at her the better. 
 
 " You do, though ! " he insisted. " There you sit with 
 your needlework and not an idea in your head, to all ap 
 pearance." 
 
 " I ve an idea that your socks have got to be mended," 
 Nell retorted, and held one up to prove it. 
 
 " Nonsense !" said Lucius. " It ll be a darn not a sock, 
 if you mend that ! Put it in the fire, an get me fresh ones 
 to-morrow. What s the good of your father slaving his 
 brains into a batter, if it only ends in you spending your 
 nights mendin his old socks ? Where s Tom ? " 
 
 The change of topic was so sudden that Nell may be ex 
 cused for needing a few seconds before she could switch her 
 thoughts into this fresh groove.
 
 94 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Heading in his own rooms, I hope; " she said presently, 
 " but I don t know. How should I ? " 
 
 " I don t know how you should," Lucius agreed. " He 
 never comes here now to tell us what he is doing. Why 
 doesn t he ? " 
 
 The darn, which she persisted in, needed all Nell s atten 
 tion, and she was looking at it critically when she an 
 swered 
 
 " Perhaps he doesn t come because I told him he came too 
 often," she said at last. 
 
 Lucius gasped in his chair. 
 
 " You told him ! " was all he could shout at first, and he 
 snorted and choked for some time before he could go far 
 ther. " Why ? " 
 
 " I told him," said Nell, speaking with great distinctness, 
 bending towards the light, and examining the darn more 
 critically than ever, " that any young man who was worth 
 anything would spend his evenings working for his exami 
 nations, instead of wasting his time in drawing-rooms." 
 
 " Quite right, 1 daresay," allowed Lucius. " Quite right. 
 But you re a caution, Nell, you are ! You re as hard as 
 nails, you know. Begor ! it s unnatural in a woman ! " and 
 poor Nell had to be content with this verdict as a reward 
 for doing what had been disagreeable enough. 
 
 " When did you tell him that ? " asked Lucius presently, 
 after a few pulls at his pipe. 
 
 " About a fortnight ago." 
 
 " He ll need a night off. Send a note round, saying that 
 I want to see him, Nell." 
 
 " When is he to do his reading, dad ? " 
 
 " Double tides to-morrow," suggested Lucius. " What s 
 the boy done to you that you should grudge him a pipe with 
 me ?" 
 
 " Nothing," Nell answered him, and Lucius was more 
 disgusted than ever.
 
 A MEETING OF MINOR POETS 95 
 
 " I think I ll go round and call on Mrs. MacQuestra/ he 
 said,, after some cogitation. " She brightens a man up most 
 amazingly." 
 
 Now, Mrs. MacQuestra was the widow whom Nell ab 
 horred, and the effect, to Lucius secret delight, was imme 
 diate. 
 
 Nell went to his desk and seated herself there, with the 
 appearance of one who acted against her better judgment. 
 
 " What shall I say ? " she asked meekly. 
 
 " Say ? Oh, you needn t say anything. I don t want her 
 round here disturbing you. D ye think I d expect a lady to 
 leave her home this time o night for me ? I ll just put on 
 a decent coat an go round. She ll make me as welcome as 
 sunshine." All this was said with the air of a man who was 
 driven out to search for what his own home denied him. 
 
 " I m writing to Tom," explained Nelly, her pen racing 
 on the paper as she spoke, and Lucius, sitting with his back 
 to her, winked at the fire. 
 
 " Oh, just tell him to come. Twont be hanging about a 
 drawing-room to smoke a pipe in here with me. Tell Jean 
 to bring in the whiskey and the biscuits about ten. Bring 
 em in yourself if you like, an if you can behave decently to 
 the poor fellow." 
 
 So Nell, who saw herself dismissed, wrote a dignified little 
 note, saying that her father told her to say that he would be 
 very glad to see Mr. Dunbar for a chat, if he was not too 
 busy to come round, and Tom, deciding that he was by no 
 means too busy, though he was working hard enough when 
 the note came, was shaking hands with Lucius, and looking 
 in vain for Nell, a few minutes later. 
 
 " Sit down there," Lucius told him, pointing with his 
 pipe to an easy-chair on the opposite side of the fire, " an 
 tell me what you ve been doing that you never came round." 
 
 " Cramming, sir," said Tom, taking the chair and Lucius 
 tobacco-pouch.
 
 96 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Ay, ay, of course ! You re a lucky young fellow, Tom." 
 
 " How so, sir ? " 
 
 " Look at me ! " said Lucius pathetically, pointing to a 
 comfortable waistcoat. " I m a business man, an me life is 
 one long anxiety. May be ruined to-morrow through no 
 fault of mine. A bankrupt, sir. A dishonored man, with 
 Nell left penniless in a cold world. But you ! sir, you carry 
 your fortune in your head where no man can touch it ! 
 Your profession ll keep you comfortably wherever you go ! " 
 
 " Glad to hear it ! " muttered Tom, whose spirits didn t 
 rise easily as work went on. All he said audibly was, " I m 
 not a professional man yet." 
 
 "No, but Nell tells me you re hard at it, and you re bound 
 to do well. Don t tell me but what it s a sure thing for any 
 young fellow with any brains at all if he works. Work, 
 Tom, regular work. There s nothing like it." Lucius 
 suddenly recollected that he had called Tom from work that 
 night, so he added, " But you can t do without a night off 
 now and then. So don t you try it, my boy, or you ll break 
 down," and after that they puffed in silence. 
 
 " How s Miss Nell, sir ? " Tom asked presently. 
 
 " She s all right. She owned that she gave you a wigging 
 about your work, Tom. The impudence of these women ! 
 But she means well, I tell you. Just don t take any notice. 
 It s a way she s got into because I let the hussy think she 
 can do what she likes with me." 
 
 " Awfully good of her, I thought, sir," stammered Tom. 
 " I believe it did me good. I ve been swatting pretty stiffly 
 since." 
 
 " No doubt you ll be all right," said Lucius, with an air of 
 certainty assumed most readily by friends who know least of 
 the work. " Don t overdo it though. What do you do to 
 amuse yourself now ? " 
 
 " Football once a week, and a good walk on Sundays, if 
 it s decent weather."
 
 A MEETING OP MINOR POETS 97 
 
 " liight, quite right," agreed Lucius. " Don t miss 
 church I hope," he added hastily as an afterthought, but 
 didn t wait for a reply. 
 
 " You can t do much reading outside your work, of 
 course ? " he allowed. " Some of you scientific fellows 
 don t care for it either. Now that s what I enjoy." 
 
 " I do what I can, sir." 
 
 " H m ! Never wrote, I suppose ? " which hit Tom on a 
 weak point. 
 
 " I never did what you d call writing," he admitted, with 
 something very like a blush, " but I scribble a bit now and 
 then. Just for a change and amusement when I can t get 
 out." 
 
 " No ! you don t say so ! " 
 
 Lucius took his pipe out of his mouth, and putting a 
 hand on each knee, bent forward a little in his chair to 
 have a good look at Tom. 
 
 " Who d ha thought it ! " he said, with a frank emphasis 
 that plainly showed it would never have occurred to him. 
 
 " You re a bit of a critic, then ? " he suggested, half turn 
 ing his chair towards the desk, with, at the same time, a 
 keen eye upon Tom. 
 
 " Well, I know what I like, sir," and, satisfied with that, 
 Lucius went to his desk, and, rummaging therein, brought 
 out rolls of paper, which he carried back to the fire and 
 arranged on the mantel-piece, clearing his throat as he 
 did so. 
 
 " There s a man I know," he told Tom, choosing his words 
 with great deliberation, " who amuses himself that way too, 
 at times. Nothing big, you know. Trifles light as air/ as 
 Shakespeare says. At least, mostly. I ve got em to read 
 over and criticise." 
 
 " I d like to hear them," Tom assured him, and Lucius 
 said that he should. 
 
 "I d like your candid opinion," Lucius asserted. "I 
 7
 
 98 MR. PETERS 
 
 think some of em are pretty good. But then I m preju 
 diced, the writer being a man I know." 
 
 " Let s have a specimen, sir," suggested Tom. " One of 
 those you think best," and he leaned back in his easy-chair 
 with a fine air of impartial and critical attention. 
 
 Lucius put on his glasses and searched among the papers, 
 clearing his throat again. 
 
 " I m no reader, you know," he said. 
 
 " Shall I read them myself ? " asked Tom, but Lucius 
 declined. 
 
 " The writing s a bit difficult," he explained, " and I ve 
 got used to it. Here s one that s better than some of the 
 others, but I won t say it s the best 
 
 " When Chloris set my heart ablaze 
 With saucy looks and winning ways, 
 I lost my sleep, went off my feed, 
 And clean forsook the soothing 1 weed. 
 But when the minx, with fleer and flout, 
 First quenched the fire, then put me out, 
 I filled my pipe, Go to! said I, 
 I ll smoke Dream Mixture till I die! 
 
 When Lucius had finished this production, he looked 
 anxiously at Tom, who maintained a disheartening silence. 
 
 " I don t know that it s so good as some of them," Lucius 
 said. " Let s find another ! " 
 
 " Wait a bit, sir," Tom insisted. " Let s finish them off 
 as we go, if you want my opinion on them. Do you mind 
 reading that over again ? " 
 
 So Lucius, standing with his back to the fire, read it 
 again, with more emphasis and a louder voice. 
 
 " Who s Chloris ? " Tom asked at the end. 
 
 " It s a way a lot of them had of calling their girls Chloris 
 and Phyllis, a couple of centuries ago," Lucius explained, 
 but Tom shook his head cynically. 
 
 " Won t do, sir, tell your friend. It s nineteenth-century
 
 A MEETING OF MINOR POETS 99 
 
 stuff people want now if they can t get twentieth; and I 
 wouldn t call that went off my feed seventeenth-century, 
 or poetry either, would you ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not, perhaps not," said Lucius, glaring over his 
 spectacles at the unconscious Tom. " The rest is better, 
 isn t it ? " 
 
 " I ll smoke Dream Mixture till I die ! " quoted Tom 
 remorselessly. " Sounds awfully like an advertisement, 
 doesn t it ? " 
 
 " Perhaps my man meant it for one," suggested Lucius. 
 " Let s try another ! Here s a short one ! 
 
 " Smoke! since a finger, stretched to touch the wheel, 
 May crush a moth, or make an empire reel, 
 Or count as nothing. Let the world go by, 
 And leave the playing cards to those who deal." 
 
 " A weak copy of Omar Khayyam," Tom said coolly. 
 " It s better than the last, though. Let s have another, sir." 
 
 " Like cures like, I hear them say, 
 Smoke drives other clouds away." 
 
 " Short, and to the point, eh ? " said Lucius anxiously, 
 after reading this, but Tom laughed. 
 
 If you love me as I love you, 
 No knife can cut our love in two," 
 
 he quoted. " Sounds awfully like a motto out of a Christ 
 mas cracker, doesn t it ? " and Lucius waxed honestly angry. 
 
 " I ve seen worse things in print," he said, bringing his 
 hand down with a thump on the mantel-piece. 
 
 " Have you ? Where, sir ? " asked the incorrigible, 
 while Lucius, not able to trust himself to speak, tugged at 
 the old-fashioned bell-rope, meaning to order up the whis 
 key, and brought the rope down upon his head. 
 
 " Ah, you should have electric bells," suggested Tom. 
 
 " Damned tinkling alarums ! " Lucius declared angrily, 
 glad to have a topic started upon which he might speak
 
 100 MR. PETERS 
 
 freely to relieve his mind. " I don t want to be reminded of 
 the telephone and the office while I m at home for a little 
 quiet," and he wasted several matches over his pipe, to cover 
 his perturbation. 
 
 " So you don t think much of those things ? " he asked 
 presently, when he felt cooler, and Tom said " No; the 
 man s a penny-a-liner, I should think. Someone you re 
 wanting to do a kindness to, I suppose, sir. I know you re 
 always trying to give some fellow a lift. But I don t believe 
 that s his line. Perhaps they re not fair specimens. Evi 
 dently he writes them to order, for some tobacconist 
 
 " You re wrong there ! " interrupted Lucius rashly, but 
 triumphantly. " He s got a tobacco business of his own. 
 A sort of fad, and a damned expensive one, too. He thinks 
 trade advertising, as it is, a disgrace to a civilized people. 
 He s doing his humble best to give the thing a touch of the 
 artistic; that s what he s doing, and he s dropping a lot of 
 money over it, too." 
 
 " Then it s a failure all round, sir," Tom said, with blind 
 obstinacy, for he was beginning to think that Xell was still 
 vexed, and didn t mean to see him. " You d better ad 
 vise your friend to get someone else to do his rhymes any 
 way." 
 
 " Perhaps you d do them ? " Lucius suggested, sarcastic 
 ally. 
 
 " It s not in my line, but I could do as good," Tom as 
 serted, and, having smoked his pipe empty, asked if he 
 might fill it from Lucius pouch. The pouch was almost 
 empty, too, and Lucius, going to a cabinet, took a fresh 
 packet of Dream Mixture, and tossed it over to him. 
 
 " Oh, that s what we ve been smoking ? " Tom asked, 
 looking at the wrapper. " Well, I will say I wouldn t wish 
 for better baccy, anyhow, whatever the rhymes may be. 
 
 " In blackest, starless night, and darkest day, 
 Smoke! and in smoke your care shall drift away."
 
 A MEETING OF MINOR POETS 101 
 
 " Cynical beggar ! " he commented, after reading this 
 aloud. " Extravagant, too ! Seems to recommend smok 
 ing at all hours. I wouldn t give a rap for a pipe on a dark 
 night." 
 
 " He s had his good times an bad times," Lucius said. 
 " There are times when he s cynical, maybe, an times when 
 he isn t. Now you ve had your turn at cutting him to little 
 pieces, I suppose you ve nothing of your own about you 
 for me to hear { There s the whiskey coming, an if it s 
 Nell who s bringing it, she shall be a judge between you 
 and me." 
 
 It was Nell, who, being able to choose her own moment 
 for an appearance, was far cooler than either of the two 
 poets. Still, when Lucius, flourishing a bundle of papers 
 at her as she came in, told her that " she must choose be 
 tween himself and that fellow there," pointing angrily at 
 Tom, she was considerably flustered, and so, for the matter 
 of that, was Tom. 
 
 " We ve been reading rhymes," he hastily explained, as 
 they shook hands. " We don t quite agree about them, be 
 cause your father sticks up for his friend who wrote them; 
 that s all ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " said Nell, much relieved, " father was shouting 
 so, that I thought I must come in myself to see what was 
 the matter." 
 
 " Have ye got anything, Tom ? " Moriarty repeated. 
 " Of course ye have, if ye scribble at all ! It ll be in your 
 pocket there," and he pointed to a bulge shown in the 
 breast-pocket of Tom s coat. 
 
 It was quite true that there were verses in that pocket, 
 but since there were along with them some little notes from 
 Nell, thanking him for books lent and so forth, it took Tom 
 a little while to get the verses out separate from everything 
 else. He being now, as it were, the prisoner at the bar, 
 Lucius the judge, with a theory to uphold, and Nell the
 
 102 MR. PETERS 
 
 audience, Tom hesitated, and hemmed, and explained, much 
 as Moriarty had done hefore. 
 
 " This is a little thing I just did quickly as it occurred to 
 me," he told them. " I haven t had time to polish, so you 
 mustn t be hard on it." 
 
 " Oh, polish it while we wait ! " Nell suggested, as if it 
 were a case of boot-mending. 
 
 " Go on, go on, man, and don t mind her ! " Lucius told 
 him. " She doesn t understand the art o the thing at all. 
 There s a power of interest in sketches which you won t get 
 in oil portraits," he added solemnly, and, nodding his head 
 as a sign for Tom to read, he leant back in his chair and 
 closed his eyes. 
 
 But Tom had already discovered a difficulty. The 
 rhymes were upon Nelly. Upon what other topic could 
 they be ? Her name, he now recollected, came in in the very 
 first line, and, for the life of him, with Lucius impatient and 
 Nell curious, he couldn t decide on another. He wanted 
 two syllables to replace Nelly. Moriarty seemed to like 
 Chloris. Chloris it should be; and he started off in desper 
 ation 
 
 " When Chloris goes down Princes Street, 
 
 I walk behind and watch her sadly, 
 For Chloris looks so dear, so sweet, 
 
 That all men needs must love her madly. 
 
 Oh, sure, some day, a prince will come, 
 With castles, lands, and heaps of money. 
 
 To bear her off and leave me dumb, 
 With Princes Street no longer sunny. 
 
 Oh, Chloris, when you venture out, 
 
 For go you will, though I would hide you, 
 
 Go veiled, and then, to banish doubt, 
 Oh, let me always go beside you." 
 
 " Chloris ! what a pretty name," Nelly said, politely. " I 
 don t know her."
 
 A MEETING OF MINOR POETS 103 
 
 " Ay ! Who s Chloris ? who s Chloris? " Lucius quoted, 
 with tremendous sarcasm. " It s out of date, me dear boy. 
 Two centuries ago, at least ! It s nineteenth-century stuff 
 we want, Tom, if we can t get twentieth." 
 
 " Father ! what a rude thing to say ! I m sure they re 
 very pretty verses. Miss Chloris ought to feel nattered. 
 You asked him to read them, too." 
 
 " Why, the fellow laughed at the name when I, that is me 
 friend, used it ! " objected Lucius. " Then he goes an uses 
 it himself. That s what he calls criticism." 
 
 " I ve changed my mind after hearing it a second time," 
 Tom explained. " I think it s an awfully good name ! " 
 
 " You d heard it a second time a long while before you 
 said that," Lucius grumbled. " Of course it s a good name. 
 You can t use everyday commonplace modern names in good 
 poetry. Not, mind you," he added, in haste, " that I say 
 yours is good. Heaps o money, indeed ! D ye call that 
 poetry ? It ought to be ruddy gold, only you d miss the 
 rhyme. Whoever heard of a prince carryin about his land 
 an castles with him ? I ve heard that, even if they want to 
 buy an evening paper, they borrow the ha penny from an 
 aide-de-camp ! Poor divil ! I hopes he gets it back, that s 
 all. What was I talking about ? Oh, Chloris, yes ! An 
 everyday names. Now, try Nelly s name instead, an see 
 how foolish it ll be." 
 
 " I don t know," Nell said, with some hauteur, " that I 
 care to have my name put into poetry that s meant for a 
 lady called Chloris ! " 
 
 " Tut, tut ! " Lucius told her. " Hold your tongue, las 
 sie ! The name s not copyright. It was Mrs. MacQuestra s 
 name before it was yours." 
 
 " A long time before, I should think," Nelly interpolated; 
 but Lucius went on. 
 
 " She s the Widdy, you know, Tom, that you met here at 
 dinner t other night. A decent body she is, too. Faith,
 
 104 MR. PETERS 
 
 twould be a fine notion to send her a copy with my compli 
 ments, and what did she think of them ! Not that I believe 
 I will," he added hurriedly, thinking from the way Nell s 
 foot began to tap upon the floor that he was going too far. 
 " She s not the ear for music a woman should have, so 
 it s likely twould be wasted on her all except the compli 
 ment. Come on, Tom, put in Nelly and if my Nell 
 doesn t like it, and Mrs. MacQuestra can t have it, why, we ll 
 call it Poetical License, and no more said." 
 
 So Tom read the thing, amended according to suggestion, 
 with great warmth, and a stolen glance or two at Nelly, who, 
 being naturally not interested, except in a friendly way, 
 about verses written to a lady called Chloris, whom she 
 didn t know, kept her eyes upon the floor and studied the 
 carpet pattern, and was only politely complimentary at the 
 end. 
 
 Lucius, however, was more enthusiastic, having in his 
 mind the question of rhymes for the Dream Cigarettes. 
 
 "I d like some more, some time," he told Tom, "light 
 love-making sort of rhymes, as short as you please, to show 
 to the man I told you of. Nelly and I ll hear em together 
 now and then when you ve time. We ll educate her to un 
 derstand poetry and enjoy a good verse yet, Tom. The las 
 sie s ignorance is shameful." 
 
 " One can t get time for everything," Tom suggested, 
 with a look of apology at Nell for even listening to such 
 blasphemous accusations against her perfection. 
 
 " I ve heard you say that Miss Nelly spends all her time 
 about the housekeeping, sir. I expect she enjoys real poetry 
 as well as you or I do." 
 
 With that he said " good-night " and came away, after, at 
 Lucius request, leaving his rhymes for further criticism. 
 One result of the evening was that, when Tom came across 
 the Dream Mixture elsewhere, as you will find that he did, 
 he recognized it and profited thereby.
 
 A MEETING OF MINOR POETS 105 
 
 Another most useful outcome was that Nell straightway 
 began to develop a strong interest in Poetry, so called. 
 
 To such an extent was this the case, that she quietly lifted 
 Tom s verses to Chloris, the young lady whom she didn t 
 know, from Moriarty s desk w r hen she said " good-night " to 
 him, and studied them with great care and high apprecia 
 tion before she slept.* The scrawl bore no signs of " Nelly " 
 having been substituted for " Chloris," but " Chloris " was 
 not there, and " Nelly " was, which, on the whole, made 
 them perhaps more interesting.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 LUCIUS IS DIPLOMATIC 
 
 NELLY read the verses again before she came down to 
 breakfast the next morning, and either because, for once in 
 a way, it promised to be bright weather, or else because 
 she was amused at Tom s marked admiration for Miss 
 Chloris, her face was full of dimples, her gray eyes full of 
 laughter, when she seated herself to pour out her father s 
 coffee. 
 
 Lucius, with the contrariness of man, was not responsive. 
 Melia was weighing upon his conscience, with the little 
 shop and the kilted Highlander, the Dream Mixture, 
 rhymes and all. He had said nothing yet to Nelly about 
 any of them. He was stubbornly determined that he would, 
 because he wanted her to help him with Melia, but he 
 didn t at all like the job, though he couldn t exactly say 
 why. It was so difficult, he felt, to explain matters. He 
 scarcely understood them himself, and affairs were as they 
 were, through a chain of circumstances, the result of reason 
 ing on his part more ingenious than sound. This little 
 speculation in tobacco arose from a dread he had of being 
 too much wrapped up in his very prosperous and well-man 
 aged merchant business. 
 
 If Lucius found that after a busy day he was not always 
 able to enjoy and to decide such questions as, for example, 
 the full and exact meaning of " Sordello," or to whom 
 Shakespeare s sonnets were addressed, he imagined that all 
 finer qualities of mind must be blighted by office work. So 
 he sternly set himself to a carefully considered course of the 
 poets, with a strict avoidance of the ballad-makers, whom
 
 LUCIUS IS DIPLOMATIC 107 
 
 he liked best, and a special attention to Browning and Shel 
 ley as a retining influence, lie read the others, but not as 
 part of these intellectual gymnastics. 
 
 Next came the jotting down of lines for himself. Just 
 for exercise, you see. Then, alas ! the, at first, scarcely 
 owned wish to see his own rhymes in print. A typewriter 
 satisfied him for the time, but not for long. Then he got 
 verses set up by a printer, but the business-half of him pro 
 tested. Here was sheer extravagance and folly, since no 
 one but himself and the aforesaid printer saw the verses 
 when printed, which they were on single sheets of hand 
 made paper, with rough edges, broad margins, &c. Then 
 the sophist deceived himself, as most sophists ingeniously 
 do. He would employ his fancy to some profit; harness his 
 Pegasus and make it PAY ! 
 
 The idea suddenly came to him in a London tobacconist s. 
 He was in London on business, and dropping in for a cigar 
 at this shop, saw Amelie for the first time. She served him 
 and he chatted with her, as he chatted with everyone, gentle 
 and simple. 
 
 As he talked, he looked at the colored advertisements, 
 some funny, some commonplace, some vulgar. 
 
 " A good rhyme, now, round a cigar might please a man/ 
 he said, tentatively, to Melia; and Melia, thinking of a 
 music-hall refrain that had taken the town by storm, and 
 was remarkable for its want of everything but jingle, said, 
 " Yes, sir ! Oh, cert nly; I should think so indeed ! " 
 
 " Much experience at this sort of thing ? " asked Lucius, 
 looking round him; and Melia told him that she had. 
 
 " Wages ? " asked Lucius, confidentially; and she told 
 him her wages too, as most people told Lucius anything he 
 chose to ask, because of the pleasant, insinuating Irish way 
 he had with him. 
 
 " Xice place ? " he asked next; and Melia, having found 
 out three days before that her fellow shop-girl was, as she
 
 108 MR. PETERS 
 
 put it, " a nasty, low, treacherous, backbiting person," said 
 with emphasis that it was nut a nice place, not by no means, 
 and that she thought of making a change. 
 
 " Wait a month, me dear," Lucius had said, in a fatherly 
 way, with a half-sovereign as retainer, and, taking her ad 
 dress, marched off. 
 
 Within a month he engaged her to come North, and 
 within two .months she was installed with the Dream Mix 
 ture and cigarettes (which really, the rhymes apart, were ex 
 cellent) most prominently in the front, with various better 
 known (though of course less deserving) tobaccos in the 
 background. 
 
 Here she had now been six months, and Lucius, sitting 
 with his coffee and fish growing cold before him, wondered 
 how to explain the situation. It wasn t business, for it 
 wasn t paying, and it wasn t being pushed. It wasn t char 
 ity to Melia, for, though he couldn t entertain the idea of 
 dismissing her after getting her North from a situation 
 where she would very likely have otherwise stayed, he had 
 really sent for her because of her honest ways, and presumed 
 business knowledge. It wasn t a fad of his own, a mere 
 extravagant toy; he vowed it wasn t that, since the tobacco 
 was good, and sold, when anyone would buy it, at a fair 
 profit. 
 
 Nell, watching him from behind the coffee-machine, won 
 dered what was wrong, but, being experienced, kept her 
 wonder to herself, and did not let it affect her appetite. 
 
 " What with business extendin this way and spreadin 
 that, a man can t eat or sleep in peace," Lucius blurted 
 out, and Nell knew that she was to hear of his troubles at 
 last, 
 
 " Pass your cup for some more coffee, dear," she told 
 him. " That s all cold, and so s your fish. Help yourself, 
 and give me a little bit more, and tell me all about it." 
 
 " I ve got a young woman working for me now," grum-
 
 LUCIUS IS DIPLOMATIC 109 
 
 bled Lucius, doing as he was told; " she s move bother to me 
 than all the men. It s always so with you girls ! " 
 
 Nell was quite unmoved by this denunciation of her sex. 
 
 " What is she ? " she asked. " A typist ? " 
 
 " D ye think I d have a girl making a mess of my corre 
 spondence ? No; she s in a retail trade." 
 
 " I didn t know you had any retail trade/ said Nell, 
 calmly. She was quite unaware of the great gulf between 
 wholesale and retail. 
 
 " What s the business ? " she asked. 
 
 " A little speculation in tobacco," Lucius told her. 
 
 " Well, is it a failure ? " 
 
 " Can t tell yet," was all he would admit. " I can afford 
 it if it is, I suppose. The girl will be a failure though, if 
 she isn t seen to." 
 
 He waited to be helped by further questions, but Nell 
 said nothing, so presently he repeated it. 
 
 " An utter failure she ll be," he said. 
 
 " What s the matter ? " asked Nell. " Is she dishonest ? " 
 
 " D ye think I m such a fool in business as I am outside 
 it ? " demanded Lucius angrily. " D ye think I d choose 
 dishonest folk to work for me ? " 
 
 " What is it then, dear ? " 
 
 " The place is goin to be the ruin o the girl s health if I 
 don t see to it," Lucius blustered. " Here, when I put her 
 in there, I told her to keep the same hours as the trade, an 
 because a darned little tuppeny-ha penny place near opens 
 at half-past eight and closes at eleven, the silly fool does the 
 same, and takes a Saturday half-holiday by keepin the 
 place open till midnight ! The sitting-room, if you can 
 call it one, gets like an oven too, with the gas and the fire. 
 The place isn t fit for a girl to be in all those hours." 
 
 " Why don t you close it ? " asked Nell, as a practical 
 question, but that only made Moriarty worse. 
 
 " And turn the girl adrift, I suppose," he asked indig-
 
 110 MR. PETERS 
 
 nantly, " after taking her away from another berth and 
 bringing her from London ? Is that all you can suggest ? " 
 
 " May I go in and see her ? " Nell asked quietly; and that 
 being what Lucius wanted, he gave his consent with a fair 
 amount of grace. 
 
 " If there s anything she ought to have/ he said, " you 
 know where to come for a shilling or two. And if you can 
 make any suggestion, after looking round, that would be 
 likely to make another better place pay, why, I ll consider 
 it. I m not going to drop the thing, mind you, once for all! 
 I can make it pay if I give me mind to it, and so I will. It s 
 a fancy of mine, and I m not going to throw that girl over 
 either. She s an honest lassie, and means well. Just you 
 dress yourself nice an quiet, so as not to seem too much the 
 patronizin fine lady, an look her up this morning. She 
 won t be busy, and if anyone is there you can buy me a 
 packet of Dream Mixture Cigarettes. I want Tom to try 
 them when he comes in again." 
 
 So Nelly got the address, and her father gave her a 
 smacking kiss and went off to his work in high glee. 
 
 " It s the easiest thing to me to manage a woman ! " he 
 told himself as he went beaming along. " It s me Irish 
 blood, I s pose. Though there s nothing else I can put a 
 successful hand to outside of the office, when a woman is to 
 be wheedled into thinking she wants to do, ay, and will do, 
 what all the while you re for her to do, faith ! Lucius Mori- 
 arty, you re hard to beat." And, certainly, Moriarty had, 
 and has, bless him ! a most persuasive and insinuating way 
 with the ladies, even when he seems to bluster most fiercely. 
 Whether the dear creatures are always so blind to the way 
 in which they are led as he believes them to be, is another 
 question, and one which the ordinary unpersuasive and ob 
 tuse male won t pretend to decide. Nelly smiled at the 
 recollection of bis methods, as she put on her hat, but you 
 will recollect that she began the day smiling, and, having
 
 " i SHA N T SHAKE HANDS "
 
 LUCIUS IS DIPLOMATIC 111 
 
 started, was likely to keep it up on small provocation until 
 bedtime. 
 
 She then sallied forth, most provokingly and enticingly 
 charming, and if she wore her plainest dress that morning, 
 all I can say is that one wouldn t have thought it. 
 
 As she went along Princes Street the sight of a long row 
 of sandwich men made her positively bubble over with 
 mirth. They carried boards announcing the theatrical per 
 formance for that night, of which all that I can tell you is 
 that its name was " Chloris ! " The coincidence seemed to 
 strike Nell as most amusing, and the way she smiled over it 
 must surely show that she had no jealousy. 
 
 Presently she dived into the back lane, which I absolutely 
 refuse to give a name to, and soon came in sight of the guar 
 dian Hielander, whom Melia had wheeled out upon his 
 stand, to get the benefit of fresh air and attract the admira 
 tion of passers-by. 
 
 Nell was past that admirable work of art and in the little 
 shop before she discovered that her entry was mal a propos. 
 Miss Sophia Amelie Rivers was standing well back from the 
 counter, with her hands resolutely clasped behind her, and a 
 most scornful countenance, while a fair-haired, rather nice- 
 looking, but melancholy youth vainly stretched a hand and 
 an arm and a good deal of his body across. 
 
 " No, Mr. Inch," Amelie was saying, " I sha n t shake 
 hands, not if you stay there for ever. You ve got to apolo 
 gize first! What do you take me for ? Oh ! - ," which 
 last was caused by the sudden appearance of Nelly, at the 
 sight of whom Melia moved forward, and Inch drew him 
 self up, with an injured expression. 
 
 " I I beg your pardon ! " Nelly said, quite as much 
 disturbed as they were. " I mean, I want a packet of 
 Dream Cigarettes." 
 
 " Yes, miss," said Melia, who had recovered herself, and 
 now was strictly business-like. " They re very mild. As
 
 112 MR. PETERS 
 
 good as anything in the market, and very much liked. But 
 you d save upon the box of a hundred. Two-and-six you d 
 save. Mayn t I send a box for you ? " 
 
 " No, thank you," Nell told her, with rather a dignified 
 air, because she suddenly felt shy. " I was only asked to get 
 a packet. They re for my father, Mr. Moriarty." 
 
 To young Inch, of course, this name meant nothing; 
 indeed, he hardly heard it, but it meant everything to 
 Melia. 
 
 To be caught " fooling," as she put it, by Miss Moriarty ! 
 She d think that was the way poor Melia spent her time, but 
 Nell spoke on before Melia could imagine what to say or 
 to do. 
 
 " I m going farther, and, if I may, I ll leave them until 
 I come back, can I ? I told father I would come in and see 
 whether you were busy or not." 
 
 " It s the slackest time of the day," explained Melia, with 
 absolute ignoring of Inch. " I ve nothing to do if you d 
 like to step in now, miss, and she moved to lift the curtain 
 of her private retreat, letting her eyes pass over the embar 
 rassed youth as if he were another wooden Highlander. But 
 Nell was already stepping to the door. 
 
 " I ll come in again in about half an hour," she said, nod 
 ding. " I can finish my shopping by that time," and out 
 she went. 
 
 " Now you ve done it, Mr. Inch," Melia told that reckless 
 young man, as he stared after Nell s fluttering skirts. 
 
 " Pretty tale my employer ll have now of the way I mind 
 this show ! " 
 
 " If you d only shaken hands straight away it wouldn t 
 have happened," he retorted. " I don t know what I ve 
 done to be treated as if I wasn t fit to shake hands with ! 
 I ve tried to make out what you got so angry about last time 
 I was in, and, for the life of me, I don t know." 
 
 "Very rude you were," retorted Melia, "very rude in-
 
 LUCIUS IS DIPLOMATIC 113 
 
 deed. And now you ve made things worse. I m a woman, 
 .Mr. Inch, if I m not a lady, and if you can t remember 
 what s due from a gentleman to any woman, w y, you 
 mustn t come here." 
 
 " I swear - ," the boy began, but Melia held up her 
 hands in wild horror. 
 
 " How dare you ? " she told him. " You sha n t swear 
 here anyway. Go away at once, and if you do come back, let 
 me see that you ve learnt how to be ave. I ve something 
 more to do than listen to your swears ! " 
 
 With that she dived behind the curtain, and there stayed 
 until the disconsolate fellow had left, after which she 
 popped out again, and began looking around to see if any 
 thing could be made to look better before Nell came back.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 STRICTLY ON BUSINESS 
 
 As Nell went about her shopping she tried to think what 
 she was to do and say when she got back to Melia, and for 
 the life of her she couldn t tell. 
 
 She had imagined that Melia would be a timid, worn, 
 humble sort of creature, who would need protection and en 
 couragement, and a great deal of cheering up. The dubi 
 ously tinted hair jarred upon her, and so did the shabby 
 brown velveteen. It was hard for her to associate these 
 things and the presence of the melancholy Archie with any 
 thing approachable. If she had found Melia sitting alone, 
 in a rusty black dress, and shaken by a hollow cough, her 
 task would have seemed much easier. However, Nell was a 
 healthy, practical young person who didn t, as a rule, worry 
 much over stiles before she came to them. All the prepara 
 tion that she finally made for her return call was to invest in 
 half a dozen big feathery yellow chrysanthemum blooms, 
 and, armed with these, she went back. 
 
 Now, when Melia, ten minutes before, had been smooth 
 ing her hair and surveying as much of herself as she could 
 see piecemeal in some four inches of mirror, she had longed 
 for a flower wherewith to adorn herself further, or, as she 
 put it, " to gild the gingerbread." The sudden longing in 
 her eyes, therefore, when Nell marched in with the chrys 
 anthemums was unmistakable, and Nell, like an able gen 
 eral, saw the weak point and assaulted. 
 
 " I brought these for the shop," she said, holding them 
 out, and I think it was rather a tactful thing for her to say 
 " shop," and not " you."
 
 STRICTLY ON BUSINESS Ho 
 
 Melia gave a big sigh of satisfaction, and pushed them 
 against her own delighted face. 
 
 " They ve no scent worth mentioning, you know," Nell 
 explained. 
 
 " I know. It s the soft, feathery feel of em I like," Melia 
 told her, rubbing them gently against her cheek. " Where 
 shall they go ? " 
 
 " I think I d try one in my dress if I were you," Nell sug 
 gested, " that is, if you don t think the small yellow one is 
 too big. It will show well against the brown velveteen, 
 won t it ? Here, I ve got a pin, let me put it in for you ! " 
 and she pinned the smallest flower carefully in the breast of 
 the brown velveteen, while Melia, to whom a cabbage would 
 not have seemed too big, was loud in her delight. 
 
 " It brightens up the place, doesn t it ? " Nell asked 
 when she had finished, and Melia, trying to get a glimpse of 
 the general effect from the shadowy reflection in a glass 
 case on the counter, said that it made all the difference. 
 
 " I ll put the rest in water at once," she decided, and 
 fetched a tumbler of water from behind the curtain. 
 
 That, however, was not big enough to hold them properly, 
 and at last she poured out a tumbler of water for herself and 
 put them in the jug. 
 
 " I sha n t want more than that for dinner," she ex 
 plained, "and I ve got some in the kettle for my tea, so that s 
 all right. I ll take em home at night for a change of air." 
 
 She said " hair," through an over-conscientious effort to 
 omit no aspirate. 
 
 " Where is your home ? " asked Nell, who had seated her 
 self on the little red settee opposite the counter. 
 
 " Out Comely Bank way," Melia told her. " It s just a 
 room," she explained, " and I m not much in it, of course. 
 But it s respectable, and I always call it ome, because that 
 makes it seem more ome-like. 
 
 " Won t you come inside, miss, if you re going to stay ? "
 
 116 MR. PETERS 
 
 she asked hospitably, pulling aside the curtain. " It s a bit 
 stuffy in here, but it s quite private if anyone should come, 
 though this is the slackest time." 
 
 Nell thanked her, and went in, and Melia, in whisking 
 round, managed to get a satisfactory glimpse, in the four- 
 inch mirror, of the brilliant effect produced by the yellow 
 chrysanthemum upon the brown velveteen. Then she sat 
 down, necessarily near Nelly, and, folding her hands in her 
 lap, waited for further developments. 
 
 " Mr. Moriarty," Nell said presently, " asked me to look 
 in and consult with you about the business. It isn t pay 
 ing, is it ? " 
 
 Melia shook her head dolorously, and acknowledged the 
 fault. " That s a fact, miss, though I do my very best, I do 
 assure you." 
 
 " My father told me so," said Nell, " but he thought if 
 we two talked it over together, we might hit upon something 
 that a man wouldn t think of. Why doesn t it pay ? " 
 
 Melia frowned anxiously over this, and shook her head. 
 " Them that comes, comes again," she said; and perhaps it 
 was the thought of the frequency with which one in partic 
 ular came that made her blush a little. " But there s so 
 few comes ! " she added regretfully. 
 
 " Can we bring them, then ? " was Nell s pertinent ques 
 tion. " Or must we go somewhere else to get them ? " 
 
 " Well, this place hasn t had a chance yet," Melia de 
 cided. " It s only six months open, you know, miss. Now, 
 if we only had a lot of sandwich-men, down Princes Street 
 every day for a week, dressed up, you know, and all smoking 
 hard big pipes as long as your arm, and Dream Mixture 
 printed back and front, large on em, why that might make 
 a difference. But your pa won t advertise ! " 
 
 " Not that way, at anyrate," Nell decided. " But can t 
 we make the place look brighter ? " 
 
 " A coat of paint ! " suggested Melia, getting quite ex-
 
 STRICTLY ON BUSINESS 117 
 
 cited over these plottings. " If twas a pea-green outside, 
 with a little yellow about the window,, twould be marked 
 off, as you may say." 
 
 " Perhaps dark green might look prettier," Nell thought. 
 " You re quite right, and we ll have it painted. Then, in 
 side ? " 
 
 Melia pushed aside the curtain and looked out and round 
 her critically, trying to see how it would strike an outsider. 
 
 " Those chrysanthemums do light the place up wonder 
 ful," she admitted. " Give a sort of tone to the place, don t 
 they ? I ve never seen flowers in any tobacconist s I ve 
 served in before," she added dubiously. " I don t know as 
 it s professional, and would be a great expense." 
 
 " If we re going to do better than other people, we must 
 do differently," Nell announced, with a dogmatic air. 
 " You ve not got much room, though, and one can t always 
 get flowers. What do you say to a tobacco plant there in 
 the corner ? " 
 
 Melia looked at a sort of ornament of dried tobacco 
 leaves that hung over the counter, and was doubtful. 
 
 " They re much the same color as everything else in the 
 place, aren t they ? " 
 
 "No, no !" Nell insisted, taking out a note-book. " Those 
 things are dried not a bit the same. They re a splendid 
 green, with pretty flowers, only, I don t know if they d live 
 here. I ll find out for you," and she made a note of it. 
 
 " There s another thing," she said, " that my father told 
 me to see about only it s not so easy. lie thought the 
 hours were longer than they need be." 
 
 " It s that mean ijiot igher up, miss, that makes me do 
 it," Melia explained, warming at the memory of her griev 
 ance, and letting her h s go to ruin in consequence. " Mister 
 Moriarty brings me ere, and this is wot oe says, says ee, 
 I m not up in this trade, an I don t know the ways an 
 customs of it yet, but you re a honest lassie, or I m a fool !
 
 118 MR. PETERS 
 
 Ec said that miss, standin there by the counter, with is 
 and in is trowsies pockets, jinglin is money free an easy 
 like, and I says, Thank you, sir, an feels pleased, cause 
 where I d been they sposed one was natchally not to be 
 trusted." 
 
 " My father s honest, of course," Nell said with pride, 
 " and so, of course, likes to be trusted and to trust other 
 people." 
 
 " Taint always safe," Melia told her, shaking her head 
 decidedly, " but I told myself ee adn t made no mistake in 
 me. So I said, as for hours, I d just find out an do like my 
 neighbors, an my neighbor is that ijiot igher up." 
 
 She paused, not for want of breath, but because, suddenly, 
 she became aware that she was excited, and had dropped 
 into a rapid h less monologue. 
 
 " Well ? " asked Nelly, who didn t understand. " What 
 happened ? " 
 
 " So the night before we opened the shop," said Melia, 
 speaking slowly, and trying to be correct, " I came round, 
 and I watched. At nine, up went the shutters, and I went 
 home. Nine, I said, it shall be, and nine it was, for a 
 week." 
 
 Melia sighed, and being roused, muttered something 
 about a darned little fool, which Nelly paid no attention to. 
 
 " Why didn t you keep it at nine ? " she asked. " That 
 seems long hours to me," and Melia launched out again. 
 
 " The little man that keeps the place," she said, " was 
 curious, an I daresay ee was riled. But there was nothing 
 to see from his place, being the same side, so in slack 
 times, of which there s plenty, he d go in his slippers an 
 a dirty old smoking cap, an take a look at our place 
 from over across. I seen him from behind the Ighlander 
 often." 
 
 Melia was now completely carried away by the recital of 
 what, to her, was a thrilling tale. Her aspirates had gone
 
 STRICTLY ON BUSINESS 119 
 
 hopelessly, one word gliding into another in a swiftly mov 
 ing stream, accompanied by appropriate action. 
 
 She bent forward toward Nell, and raised a dramatic 
 hand. 
 
 " One day," she said, " ee came in ! " 
 
 " What did you do ? " asked Nell, and Melia, seeing that 
 she held her audience, told her. 
 
 " I never let on, not I ! Wot can I show you ? I ses 
 to im an ee larfed ! ! " 
 
 " What a rude fellow ! Yes ? " 
 
 " It s easy to see," he told me, " from your tongue an 
 your cheek, where you come from." 
 
 " Well, I says, " I ain t got no nasty Scot , I 
 
 mean, that is, miss, I told im that was quite right, for I 
 came from the south. Then I asked im again wot I could 
 serve im with. I d like to know how you re getting on, 
 my dear, he told me (one doesn t need to notice these men, 
 miss, they knows no better), and I told im very well, in 
 deed. I m the proprietor of the Divan igher up, ee 
 says, an I m afraid there ain t no room for two. Oh ! I 
 says, quite innercent like, when are you goin ? and the 
 little ijiot was that savage that ee turned an went." 
 
 Nelly burst out laughing. She couldn t help it, as she 
 seemed to see the owner of the dirty smoking cap depart; 
 and Melia, pleased at the success of her dramatic recital, 
 smiled, and then became gloomy. 
 
 " That night," she said, " that shop was open till mid 
 night, tho twas Monday. So was this." 
 
 She sat, an unconquered Napoleon brooding over past 
 victories and future fights, while Nelly watched her curi 
 ously. The girl had more determination than Nelly had 
 thought. 
 
 " It was twelve all that week," she went on, " an my land 
 lady started askin me where I spent my evenin s. I spend 
 em alone, I told or, and if you ll be so good as to bring
 
 120 MR. PETERS 
 
 your work and spend em with me, you ll be doin a favor 
 that i won t 1 orgit. So she came, once, and no more. But 
 she was satisfied, an never asked no more questions, not 
 even when the worst came." 
 
 " It was bad enough already," said Nell. " What was the 
 worst ? " 
 
 " One day the Smoking Cap came bobbin in again, quite 
 polite, an asked ow I was. Bloomin ! ses I, that is, very 
 well. Ow s yourself ? Oh, he said, grinnin , wicked, 
 I ve the awfullest toothache, I ave. I can t sleep a wink. 
 So I shall just keep my shop open for company. Funny ! 
 I told im, quite cool. You an me can sympathize. I m 
 suiferin from insomny, awful, and I m going to do the very 
 same thing this very night. There s the pleeseman, an a 
 lot of night watchmen, the people goin to work early in the 
 ware ouses, not to mention the milkman, which is a girl in 
 this street, I b lieve. We ll make our fortunes ! That was 
 the end, miss ! " 
 
 " Quite time, I m sure," Nell agreed. " How did it 
 end ? " 
 
 " That night I called to a baker boy an got im to bring 
 me rolls and butter, and to tell the milk girl to bring me a 
 penn orth. He got two cigarettes for doin it, and I thought 
 I was right. I made myself tea that kept me so on the 
 jump, I couldn t wink an eye for fear of bein murdered in 
 my sleep, an I kept all the gas turned up, and a good fire, 
 and the door wide open. I had the awfullest book that 
 night, with five murders an two suicides, and at two o clock 
 in the morning, when the pleeseman came in to sec what was 
 wrong, I screamed an thought I should ha died ! " 
 
 "You silly thing," said Nelly, not unkindly though, 
 " what on earth was the use of it all ? " 
 
 " I don t like to be bested," explained Melia. " Anyway 
 that ended it as I told you. * Wot s wrong here ? says the 
 pleeseman, an when I said I had insomny because my neigh-
 
 STRICTLY ON BUSINESS 121 
 
 bor had toothache, I thought he d avc died, an serve 1m 
 right for terrifyin poor me. 
 
 u You d better go in with my compliments an ask for Is 
 toothache, I told that pleeseman, which he did, an pres 
 ently he come back. You kin go ome, ee ses. The 
 toothache s better, an your friend had a warnin from me 
 for leavin the shop open to thieves while he was snorin on 
 his bed. He s puttin up his shutters, and I ll help you to do 
 the same, cause you re a plucky one. 
 
 " That s what he said, but I d made up my mind to a 
 night of it. The tea made me that jumpy I couldn t sleep 
 if I d wanted to, ever so. So I told 1m, with a cheap cigar 
 for his trouble, and he told the other pleesemcn he met on 
 his beat, an they told. more. I got eight of em in for a 
 laugh one time and another, and the inspector. They all 
 bought an ounce or two ounces of Dream Mixture, which 
 one told me I ought to be taking myself, and I got one or 
 two early folk too. But my ! I was bad the next day." 
 
 " You silly girl," said Nelly again, but she said it so that 
 Melia didn t mind. 
 
 " As the Smoking Cap didn t come bobbin round next 
 day," she went on, " an as my landlady did, I just got her to 
 mind the shop two minutes, while I called. Ow s the 
 toothache ? I asked, slipping my head in, an he told me to 
 go to blazes, but I took no manner o notice. You re 
 quite right, I told him. I got a dozen people in, ow many 
 did you get ? - Then I was bligcd to leave because Is lan 
 guage wasn t fit for a lady to ear. "But we don t keep open 
 after eleven now, that being his bedtime, I s pose." 
 
 " You aren t going to keep those hours either," Xelly 
 said as she got up to go, " but we can t decide and change 
 everything at once. I may come in for another chat soon, 
 mayn t I ? " 
 
 " And welcome," Melia told her with emphasis, and 
 watched her out.
 
 122 MR. PETERS 
 
 As Nelly went up the street the man in the smoking cup 
 a miserable, weakly specimen, was standing at his shop door. 
 Nelly laughed to herself as she thought of his discomfiture, 
 and then felt cruel because he was so utterly overcome. She 
 became lost for the time in vague speculation, which 
 touched, without her being aware of the fact, on Free Trade, 
 Protection, Competition, Monopoly, Co-operation, and a 
 great many other debatable subjects. But her thoughts 
 ended as she reached home in a resolution to see Melia again 
 very soon, and find out how matters could be improved.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 MELIA HAS PROSPECTS 
 
 WHEX Nell had gone, Melia s first movement was to the 
 little mirror. She could now get a fair idea of the chrysan 
 themums effect,, and she studied it critically. The result 
 was a smile upon Melia s face, already bright after her ac 
 count of the Smoking Cap episode, and an unexpressed wish 
 that Archie would find his way back. Then she moved 
 round, dusting a box here and a tin there, critical to dis 
 cover dirt, though she had swept the whole place as usual 
 on her arrival. 
 
 Then she went back to the chrysanthemums in the jug, 
 and after pulling them about, and arranging them in dif 
 ferent ways and places, at last took the comparatively small 
 one from her dress, and replaced it by the biggest. Then 
 she settled down to a book, careful at the same time that the 
 flower shouldn t be crushed. 
 
 She was thus occupied when Mr. Peters dropped in, on 
 his way, or, strictly speaking, a trifle out of his way, to lunch 
 with Lucius according to appointment. 
 
 He complimented her elaborately upon her decoration. 
 " Happy chrysanthemum," he told her. " It will no doubt 
 live forever, at least, until you change it for another," at 
 which florid compliment Melia beamed, and said, " Go 
 along, Cap n Peters ! " 
 
 She had persisted in giving him this title from the begin 
 ning, and occasionally asked him when he was going another 
 voyage. 
 
 Peters looked at his watch, and then sat down.
 
 124 MR. PETERS 
 
 " One little cigarette/ lie told her, " before I take myself 
 from this pleasant place/ and he took one accordingly. 
 
 " What about niy bike ? " Melia asked presently, after 
 the exchange of one or two more pleasantries. 
 
 So far, her experience in life had been that if you want a 
 thing you must ask for it, and usually ask often. So she 
 was quite prepared to remind Peters of the promised lessons 
 as much as was necessary. In this case, however, she did 
 not need to be anxious. 
 
 " It is of that," Peters told her, " that I come to speak." 
 
 He had spent another hour at the Waverley Market, and 
 he was satisfied that four or five hours more would make 
 him able to ride and to teach. 
 
 " Let us arrange ! " he told Melia, and she was overcome 
 with gratitude. 
 
 " Why you trouble bout teachin me I can t think," she 
 remarked. " Tisn t as if I hadn t a young man." 
 
 " No," said Peters, who apparently didn t care whether 
 she had a " young man " or no, which rather disappointed 
 Melia. 
 
 " Is he coming ? " he asked, but Melia said " Xo," tell 
 ing herself that it was no lie, and that whether there was 
 one to come was quite another matter. 
 
 " When I can bike," she told herself, " I ll hire one to 
 come to business one mornin , if I ve to go without dinner 
 for a week to do it. We ll see what the dirty Smoking Cap 
 thinks o that. He ll think trade s looking up ! " 
 
 " Let us say Wednesday morning," suggested Peters, 
 " and where shall it be ? " 
 
 " Lemme think ! " said Melia, reflecting. " I d like 
 something soft to fall on ! " but Peters assured her it was 
 not necessary. 
 
 " My arm is strong," he pointed out ; and Melia said, 
 after a casual look at that muscular limb, that there wasn t 
 a doubt of it.
 
 MEL1A HAS PROSPECTS 125 
 
 " Say in front of Fettes then," she decided. " There s 
 room to flop there, isn t there ? " 
 
 Peters, on having Fettes geographically placed for him, 
 decided that there was room to flop. 
 
 " At half-past seven," he suggested. 
 
 " Say quarter ! " Mclia begged. " I d like a good go 
 while I m at it. Maybe you won t take me a second time. 
 I can t make out why you re doin it." 
 
 " It is for my health," Peters assured her, " because of my 
 fat." 
 
 " Well, it don t matter anyway, Cap n Peters. I may 
 bring my young man when I like, mayn t I ? " and Peters 
 saying " Yes, by all means," went on his way. 
 
 All he wished was to keep on chatty, intimate terms with 
 Mclia, for more than one reason. He did not yet know 
 what might be the advantage, but Peters was quite ready, in 
 a slow deliberate way, to take a great deal of trouble, in cer 
 tain directions, with a small possibility of return. So he 
 went to lunch with a good appetite and a consciousness of 
 time well spent. 
 
 That morning was fated to be full of surprises for Melia, 
 and the kilted gentleman at the door would have winked if 
 he had been able to do so, as one person after another turned 
 uft to assist in Melia s astonishment. She had scarcely 
 settled to her book again, after clearing out the corner of 
 the shop and trying to imagine Nell s tobacco-plant there, 
 when the postman came, a very infrequent visitor. 
 
 " Xame of Buncombe ? " he asked, and, on Melia s nod 
 ding, threw down a letter upon the counter, and went off 
 to distribute other sensations of various kinds along the 
 street. If it were permitted to moralize while Mclia gasped, 
 one would like to consider the postman for awhile, second 
 as he is only to the angel of death, in the t atefulness of his 
 mission. But since Melia wasted very "little time in gasp 
 ing, perhaps one had better follow her example, and leave
 
 126 MR. PETERS 
 
 the postman to be considered from various points of view, 
 without our valuable aid, by those who care to do so. 
 
 Melia gasped, first because letters for her were very rare, 
 and if the postman had asked her name she would almost 
 certainly have said Kivers. Xext, on looking at the letter, 
 she knew the writing to be her father s. It was a very long 
 time since she had heard anything of that estimable person, 
 though, as we know, she had tried to keep him informed of 
 her own movements. She opened the letter at once. 
 
 It ran as follows : 
 
 " MY DEAR DAUGHTER, 
 
 " Fortune, which, as you are aware, has been against your 
 poor father all his life, has ceased for the moment to frown, 
 and my first thought is of my child. I hope to reach you 
 soon, after a few days which I must spend in London on 
 business [the business was a little enjoyment, while his 
 hands should have time to recover from ten days work in 
 the engine room] . It may soon prove necessary for you to 
 arrange to give up your menial occupation and take the 
 position suitable for your father s daughter. But that must 
 be left until I see you. I will write again. Your loving 
 father, JOSHUA BUNCOMBE." 
 
 Melia read this once, standing there behind the counter 
 where she had opened it, and a second time sitting on the 
 sofa behind the curtain. Then she jumped up, and, with a 
 shout, executed a series of jigs, that only ended when she 
 had knocked down a jar and smashed it upon the floor. 
 
 " Now you ve done it ! " she told herself. " That don t 
 come under the head of necessary wear an tear ! " and she 
 sat down a little subdued, and read the letter again. It was 
 vague enough, as you see, but a great deal more sanguine 
 than was justified by the possession of a diminishing four 
 hundred dollars. The fact is that Buncombe was building
 
 MELIA HAS PROSPECTS 127 
 
 upon what he thought to be a surer foundation. Imme 
 diately on reaching London, which he did with a clear head 
 owing to ten days enforced sobriety and physical exercise, 
 he set to work and obtained the necessary information about 
 Lord Inch. Old files of papers, and a pound or two spent in 
 private inquiry, satisfied him that there was an interval of 
 twelve to eighteen months, in the judge s early life, which 
 had been spent in the States. 
 
 It remained to be seen how far the judge cared for this to 
 be remembered, and what he would pay to have it forgotten. 
 Here was a widower with one child and a large income. 
 Buncombe knew his professional salary to a shilling, as any 
 one could who wished, and guessed also that there must be 
 a fair amount put by from the advocate s fees. A part, and 
 a large part, of all this should be his and Melia s, he prom 
 ised himself, though how to manage this he could not de 
 cide. Yet what did he risk by meeting Lord Inch ? What 
 did Lord Inch know of his share in the business he wished 
 to recall ? In what capacity should he appear ? All these 
 were -important questions over which Buncombe thought 
 carefully and often, with cigars and curiously compounded 
 drinks to help him. The drinks, however, were taken in 
 comparative moderation. Buncombe had been at some 
 trouble to make himself realize that he really must be care 
 ful. This was less difficult than it would have been across 
 the water, because of the expected meeting with Melia. 
 
 He was an unmitigated cur, and utterly selfish ; but, like 
 a great many such people, he liked to create a good impres 
 sion, when that did not involve too much self-sacrifice, and 
 where it might, in the end, work for his comfort. Besides, 
 he was very anxious to stand well with Melia. 
 
 After all, the girl was his child. He had cared for her 
 mother so far as he could care for any one besides himself, 
 and Melia had given him no trouble. "When he saw her 
 last, he had posed as an unfortunate man, worthy of a much
 
 128 MR. PETERS 
 
 more exalted position in society, who, at the worst, was no 
 body s enemy but his own. That character he was very 
 anxious to hold, and since Melia, with increasing experi 
 ence, would be less, easily convinced, Buncombe felt that he 
 must be more careful. 
 
 So in London he lived a not outrageous life, and to pre 
 pare the way, not seeing how it could harm his prospects in 
 any case, he one day dropped in at a type-writing office, and, 
 hiring a machine, typed for himself the following letter 
 upon the unstamped paper which he had been careful to 
 bring with him. 
 
 " One who believes that he had the privilege of meeting 
 Lord Inch at Bonville twenty-five years ago, promises him 
 self the pleasure of calling when in Edinburgh." 
 
 " It will pave the way," he said to himself, and decided 
 that in about a week s time he would probably go north. 
 After that, with great expectation of a profitable visit, he 
 wrote to Melia as we have seen. 
 
 Having read the letter three times, and broken the to 
 bacco jar, Melia didn t know what to do next. She tried to 
 read, but her own prospects were so much more uncertain 
 and interesting than those of the heroine (called a Blood 
 stained Bride) that she put the book down again, and set to 
 thinking of them. What did her father really mean ? 
 What, to use her own expression as she thought of him, was 
 he " good for " ? Had he come to stay ? She, of course, 
 could not help thinking of his last sudden disappearance, 
 which had never been explained. To say the least of it, he 
 might have written all these years. She went to the door at 
 last, and hailing a child that played with a rag doll upon the 
 opposite pavement, sent her for a sheet of paper and an en 
 velope. Then she sat down and wrote a letter which, if not 
 brilliant for spelling or composition, was at least sincere. 
 It did not please her, however, when finished, and she won 
 dered why. She thought it seemed stiff and cold, and then,
 
 MELIA HAS PROSPECTS 129 
 
 wondering whether it would please her father or make her 
 seem silly, she stuck in a row of crosses for kisses at the end. 
 What she said to the Highlander, as she stood at the door 
 waiting for some one to pass who would post her letter, 
 really showed her state of mind. " Our Menial Hoccupa- 
 tion," she confided to him, with considerable emphasis, 
 will suit us very well for the time. I m not such a Jug 
 gins as to quarrel with my bread and butter till I sees cake," 
 which tends to show that Melia, in spite of her foolish lik 
 ing for highly imaginative literature, had a practical side to 
 her character, and knew the value of a bird in the hand.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE JUST JUDGE 
 
 WHEN Peters, leisurely strolling along in his customary 
 way, at last reached Moriarty s hospitable door, he found 
 another guest, who greeted him as he went up the steps. It 
 was Madge Murray, in a costume which, from an ignorance 
 of the lady-tailor s phraseology, I can only describe as strik 
 ing. If the word " hitting " be permitted, I will use it in 
 stead, since a singular thing needs a singular word to define 
 it. The colors were dark blue and a very deep, rich red, 
 which showed itself in what I suppose would be called a 
 waistcoat, in the facings of her jacket, in the underskirt, in 
 the hat, and even in the stockings, where the short skirt let 
 her ankles be seen. Red showed against her black hair ; the 
 whole costume emphasized a dark, haughty, self-conscious 
 face, that itself seemed to challenge inspection. 
 
 Peters inspected, therefore, as he came, but showed no 
 sign of conclusion upon what he saw, and bowed when Miss 
 Murray condescended to notice him. 
 
 " I have forgiven you ! " she announced, holding out a 
 hand, and Peters thanked her, after a moment s pause, with 
 just the least appearance of having been on the point of ask 
 ing what for. 
 
 " I m sure you would have done it if necessary," she told 
 him, and Peters said " Yes ? " and asked if she had come to 
 lunch. 
 
 "To meet you," she told him, as the door opened, "so 
 you must be more polite," and they went in without any 
 promise or protestation from him upon that point. 
 
 Lucius, who had come home in time to hear of Nell s in 
 terview with Melia, was in great form. Madge was by no
 
 THE JUST JUDGE 131 
 
 means a favorite of his, but he never denied her good looks, 
 and to-day tried to atone for occasional inward doubts of 
 her, by open admiration and complimentary adjectives. 
 She was a butterfly, a poppy, a volcano, and a comet by 
 turns, according to him, and Nell at the foot of the table, 
 and Peters at the side, had little to do but listen. Peters, 
 as usual, took all this with immovable gravity, but Nell 
 laughed heartily, partly at her father s extravagance, partly 
 perhaps because Madge seemed almost inclined to take him 
 seriously. 
 
 " Miss Murray wants to see the Parliament House too, 
 father," she told him. " Are comets admitted ? " 
 
 " Faith then they are," declared Lucius, " an tails are 
 provided free of charge. You ll have all the idle boys at 
 your heels, Miss Madge, an that s no small number ! " 
 
 " But a volcano, dad ! " 
 
 " Ay, I d sec a volcano, or an earthquake there, with all 
 the pleasure in life," Lucius asserted, " specially if twould 
 undertake to swallow up the lot. Keep clear of the Par 
 liament House, Peters, as you d keep clear of h ," he 
 
 paused, stammered, and gasped for a word to fill the sugges 
 tive gap, until his eye fell on his plate, "hot potatoes 
 which are very good, too." 
 
 " It is hell to get into, I have heard," suggested Peters, 
 and Lucius told him heartily that those were his sentiments. 
 
 " An hell to get out of, too," he said, " an all the divils 
 up there with their own fish to fry, an nothing else ex 
 presses it, savin your presence, girls ! " 
 
 " Father, father," said Nell, reproachfully, " what about 
 friends like Mr. Dee ? " 
 
 " Oh. here a one an there a one is saved, may be, in spite 
 of himself," Moriarty allowed grudgingly, leaning over to 
 fill Peters wine-glass, "an the judges are most wonderful, 
 I will admit. How such good things come out of Nazareth 
 is a most miraculous providence,"
 
 132 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Your judges, then, arc all just men ? " asked Peters, 
 curiously. 
 
 " Ay, all just men according to their lights," Lucius ad 
 mitted, " tho what they may think when they remember 
 the scoundrels they ve tried to keep unhung, an the inno 
 cent folk they ve made to suffer one way and another, what 
 they may think Avhen they remember these, beats me. But 
 maybe they don t remember." 
 
 " Unless they are reminded," suggested Peters, and sat 
 eying his wine as if it showed him something. 
 
 " We may come then ? " Nell asked, rising from the table 
 as she spoke. 
 
 " Ay, you may come," Lucius told her. " Though," he 
 confided to Peters as they went, " what a couple of bonny 
 lassies, like those, want up there is a conundrum. Woman s 
 curiosity, I suppose. It s strong in Madge Murray or I m 
 mistaken, and she ll go her own way. Let s get along up 
 there at once, for I ve to be at the office again," and, send 
 ing for a cab, he packed them into it. 
 
 Mr. Dee was standing with his back to the fire that af 
 ternoon in the Parliament Hall, exchanging anecdotes of 
 various descriptions, legal and otherwise, with his fellows 
 among the unemployed. To hear, with an immovable face, 
 a narrative that would move others to tears or laughter, is 
 most excellent exercise. So, also, is the telling of a point 
 less story, with the air of one who knows that he can rely 
 upon your common sense to see the point that is not there. 
 
 In these and similar intellectual gymnastics, Mr. Dee was 
 engaged, and was in fact at the critical point of one of his 
 very best - , " and she," he told them, " came a little 
 closer, so close that I could see an inverted image of Donald 
 Dec, advocate, looking sentimentally out of her splendid 
 eyes. And they told me, Mr. Dee, 5 she murmured, c that 
 you legal gentleman had no hearts. * 
 
 " My dear madam, I answered her "
 
 THE JUST JUDGE 133 
 
 " By Gad ! there s a stunner ! " muttered one of the 
 younger men, whose attention had wandered, and Donald 
 Dee s audience, to his disgust, turned and looked across, as 
 one man, at one of the doorways, where dark blue and rich 
 red stood out boldly against the wall. 
 
 Dee himself, to avenge his shattered romance, with lifted 
 eye-glass and a fixed stare, was making comments more 
 caustic than polite upon the apparition, when a familiar 
 form darted forward and seized his hand. 
 
 " Here y are then, Dee," said Lucius, " an here we are. 
 Peters, that ye ve promised to show round, an the girls 
 who ll show themselves round if ye don t. As for me, I d 
 already like to be sure I knew the way out of this rat-trap ! " 
 
 " Your father s always ready with his little joke, Miss 
 Nell," said Dee, fluttering forward, and wondering, as he 
 went, whether his wig was straight. " Mr. Peters, my dear 
 sir, I am at your service, yours and the ladies , but I can 
 show nothing so well worth your attention as what you have 
 brought with you ! " Bowing, while his hands gently 
 rubbed one upon the other, Mr. Dee pointed the compli 
 ment by smiling glances, divided between Nell and Madge. 
 
 Behind him, at the fireplace, all this was watched with 
 envy and disgust. 
 
 " Who are the girls ? " asked one young advocate of a fat 
 friend whose eyes were immovably fixed upon Madge, not 
 at all disconcerting that self-possessed damsel. 
 
 " Don t know," returned the other. " Wish I did ! Can t 
 that dark one dress, and doesn t she fancy herself, hey ? " 
 
 " More than I do," said the youngar and quieter man. 
 " See how she poses ! The woman could draw every eye in 
 the place without blushing. Give me the one in gray that s 
 keeping back a little. I wonder if Dee wants any help ? 
 See, he s going to take em round." 
 
 This was true. Mr. Dee, paying special court to the red 
 and blue that swayed so graciously towards him, was expati-
 
 134 MR. PETERS 
 
 ating upon the beauties, architectural and otherwise, of the 
 hall. He even had the impertinence to wave his hand in a 
 general way towards the little group he had left, a propos of 
 some remark, all that reached their eager ears being some 
 thing about pas perdus. 
 
 " Nous ne sommes pas encore perdus," muttered the 
 younger man who had spoken previously. Then louder, 
 " Come away, Maclean, I m going to do some reading." 
 
 " My dear fellow," said the fat man, " your young energy 
 is worthy of a Sabbath school. What, in the name of the 
 Faculty, are you going to read ? " 
 
 " Something, anything ! " returned the other. " Even 
 Dee s stories, and yours, pall upon one after a time. I m 
 going to find something dry." 
 
 " That won t be hard to find ! " said the fat man imper- 
 turbably, and turned to watch the red and blue on a sort of 
 slow triumphal progress down the hall, with a simple gray 
 figure almost unnoticed by its side. 
 
 With Dee as elderly, black-robed, bewigged guardian 
 angel, they wandered here and there unquestioned. They 
 lingered on the threshold of that sanctuary sacred to wigs 
 and gowns, and gazed through the glass half-door at these 
 sacred paraphernalia and their wearers, while Dee pointed 
 out the peculiarities which enabled law agents to decide at a 
 glance, and from side, back, half or quarter view, whether 
 any great man whom they wanted was to be found there. 
 They looked respectfully on the tons of books collected for 
 the information, solace, and delectation of the Faculty in 
 its library, or at anyrate all seemed to do so except Madge, 
 who devoted herself to the task of extracting from Dee an 
 offer to get out novels for her. This accomplished, she 
 yawned, and suggested that probably some of the Courts 
 would be more exciting. 
 
 Dee smiled politely, and said they must certainly take a 
 look in somewhere.
 
 THE JUST JUDGE 135 
 
 " But whether we stay or not, my dear Moriarty," he 
 declared in an aside, " must depend entirely upon what is 
 doing/ to which Lucius agreed with a grunt, and something 
 muttered about a pot and a kettle. 
 
 Nell and Peters went side by side, neither inclined to be 
 very talkative. She looked more at those who were likely 
 to be clients than at the legal part of the crowd, trying, as 
 she went, to read their stories in their faces, and, needless to 
 say, failing utterly. For the idea of self-preservation has 
 taught hypocrisy to the more sensitive, while a good many 
 show little because it is little that they feel. She gave up 
 the attempt presently and looked at Peters, curious to sec 
 whether he was interested. It was difficult to tell. His 
 face was as expressionless as ever a mere placid mask, 
 showing, if anything, a sleepy sort of indifferent, easy good 
 temper. 
 
 Dee led them here and there through the narrow twisting 
 passages, " as crooked as the law," according to Lucius, and, 
 opening a swing door now and then, gave them glimpses of 
 the Courts. Here three placid elderly gentlemen dozed 
 side by side, nodding to the monotonous voice of a droning 
 and dreary gentleman in wig and gown. 
 
 In another court four other judges appeared to be en 
 gaged in a trial of wit. while the counsel, on his legs before 
 them, tried, vainly, to edge in some citations of legal au 
 thorities. They were very fierce or very funny, turn by 
 turn, and caused vast amusement to all except the anxious 
 and unhappy clients. 
 
 " It s Truthful James and the Innocent Abroad at it 
 again," said Dee. " They ve a pretty wit. You should hear 
 the Innocent presiding in breach of promise cases ! " This 
 was to Peters, who, when they began visiting the Court 
 rooms, had left Xcll, and seemed to take more interest in 
 Dec s explanations. 
 
 "Who are the judges ?" he asked, but on being told,
 
 136 MR. PETERS 
 
 turned away again, while the whole party was hurried out by 
 the ever vigilant Dee, who had scented unsavory disclosures 
 from the witness then under examination. 
 
 He led them farther, and then, suddenly, a bright idea 
 seemed to strike him, for, with a finger on his lips to suggest 
 silence, he turned aside, and, pushing another door open, 
 went tiptoe up a few steps. Here he stopped before an 
 other door of green baize, with small glass panes, like 
 bull s-eyes, let into it. At this door he turned, and, after 
 an extravagant pantomime, meant to insure quiet, but 
 rather provocative of laughter, he beckoned the nearest 
 of the party to look. The nearest was Peters, who stepped 
 forward noiselessly, and peered through one of the bull s- 
 eyes. 
 
 He was looking into another Court from behind the 
 Judges dais, the spectators facing him. Row after row of 
 faces, showing various degrees of interest and intelligence, 
 were before him, gradually, in the nearest rows, becoming 
 lost in the well of the Court. To his right was the jury 
 box, in which were fifteen men whose faces just now showed 
 various degrees of amusement or satisfaction, because a 
 voice inaudible to him, whose owner was not visible, assured 
 them, while Peters looked, that never before had the speaker 
 addressed a jury so obviously intelligent. 
 
 Nearest to Mr. Peters upon the bench, and with its back 
 to the door, sat a solitary figure, immovable and shadowy. 
 No light fell upon it from behind, and from above the light 
 was excluded by a heavy oaken canopy. 
 
 " A criminal trial," whispered Dee in Peters ear. " Just 
 drawing to a close. If you have finished looking, Mr. Peters, 
 you might make way for the ladies." 
 
 But Peters had not finished. He was watching the heavy- 
 robed figure near him that just now had turned a little 
 side-ways, showing a glimpse of a long, clean-shaven, mel 
 ancholy face. The figure leant a little forward and, it was
 
 THE JUST JUDGE 137 
 
 evident, addressed the fifteen men slowly and carefully, 
 though all this was dumb show to Mr. Peters at the bull s- 
 eye. 
 
 He caught Dee by the arm and drew him closer, without 
 turning his head. 
 
 " Who is this man ? " he asked softly. 
 
 " The Judge ? That is Lord Inch. As keen a man as we 
 have on the bench, Mr. Peters. We call him the Just Judge. 
 As keen as an east wind, and as impartial. No bamboozling 
 him, my dear sir, as we all know. I can tell you some good 
 things I ve heard him say ! But the ladies are waiting, Mr. 
 Peters. Miss Murray is impatient. Come away ! " 
 
 Still Mr. Peters did not hurry. Lord Inch, emphasizing 
 some point he thought important, had turned still farther 
 in his seat, and, leaning a little more towards the jury, was 
 obviously laying down the law with great care and delibera 
 tion. With the movement the keen, sallow face leapt from 
 the shadow, and stood out the very embodiment of clear 
 sighted justice, and Peters, through the bull s-eye, watched 
 it as though fascinated, while Dee plucked iiselessly and 
 fretfully at his sleeve. The point fully emphasized, Lord 
 Inch sank back again into the shadow, and resumed a more 
 conversational manner. Then, and not till then, Peters 
 obeyed the tuggings of the peevish Dee, and, stepping back 
 in silence, allowed the others to take their turn. 
 
 That was the last of the sights. Lucius was impatient to 
 reach his office, and seemed to breathe more freely when 
 once quit of the buildings, and outside the atmosphere of 
 the Law. Madge was longing for a cup of tea, and in her 
 customary way, said so, openly, with special directness to 
 Mr. Peters. He, however, had suddenly become dull, and 
 suggested that she would, in that case, be glad to get home. 
 It was the valiant and happy Dee who sprang, charmed, to 
 the rescue, and begged that he might be allowed, as a reward 
 altogether out of proportion to his services, to conduct them
 
 138 MR. PETERS 
 
 to Princes Street, which he presently did, to the plainly ex 
 pressed disgust of the fat advocate by the fire, who watched 
 the party leave, and cursed Dee for a dog in the manger and 
 an elderly reprobate. 
 
 As for Peters, gradually dropping behind, and getting 
 mixed in the crowd as he stared here and there, he presently 
 was separated from his party altogether, and made no great 
 effort to find them again. On the contrary, he wandered 
 back to the criminal trial at which they had last spied, en 
 tering this time by a door at the far end from the bench. 
 Here he stayed through the summing up, the verdict, and 
 the sentence, which separated a man from the outer world 
 for seven years. Apparently the prisoner fully deserved 
 what he got, and the Judge was impressive upon the patient 
 relentlessness with which justice had tracked him down and 
 secured punishment at last. " Let it be a warning to all ! " 
 he said, and then rising, while all others rose too, he went 
 away with a tired face to his robing-room, and thence to his 
 carriage which waited outside. Among the many loungers 
 whom he passed, as he stepped into the carriage, was Mr. 
 Peters, who, anxious apparently to see so great a man un 
 robed and moving as an ordinary citizen, stood near and 
 watched until the Judge drove away. If Mr. Peters had 
 feared that, with the robe, the man s dignity would be laid 
 aside, he could now see that his fears were groundless. The 
 man, off the bench, was still unmistakably a noticeable and 
 memorable figure, and made a vivid impression upon Mr. 
 Peters memory.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 A BICYCLE LESSON 
 
 A GEEAT deal of Melia s spare time during the next few 
 days was taken up in the preparation of a bicycle skirt. 
 While the shape. and cutting were under consideration, of 
 course the skirt took up all her thoughts, but when the mere 
 stitching began, she thought a great deal about her father. 
 
 Nelly found her at work the next time she came in. To 
 speak accurately, she found her brooding over it, for Melia, 
 as she humbly acknowledged to herself, was " fair bested " 
 by the shaping. 
 
 " But taint business," she remembered, and laid the 
 thing aside to consult further with Nell upon the means of 
 increasing trade. 
 
 Nell came in to let her know, firstly that she might expect 
 painters the next morning, and secondly that a plant or two 
 were on their way to the shop. 
 
 The plants came whilst Nell was there, and some time was 
 spent by the two girls in shifting them round from place to 
 place, in order to judge where they would look best. 
 
 After these things were satisfactorily arranged, Melia in 
 vited Nell to take a seat behind the curtain, and allowed 
 herself to think of the skirt once more. 
 
 " D you bike, miss ? " she asked anxiously, and was dis 
 comfited when Nell said that Lucius didn t encourage it. 
 
 " P r aps Mr. Moriarty 11 object to me doin it ? " she 
 suggested. 
 
 " lie won t dream of doing any such thing," Nell told 
 her decidedly. " He told me already that you didn t get 
 exercise enough. I ve got a pony instead."
 
 140 MR. PETERS 
 
 " If you don t bike, you won t know anything about cut 
 ting the skirt ? " 
 
 Why ? " asked Nell. " Was that one for cycling that 
 you were working at when I came in ? " 
 
 " Well, in a way, yes ! " Melia admitted, " not that I was 
 fairly at it. I m stuck, and that s the truth," and with that 
 she leant over, and, dragging the embryo skirt from where 
 she had thrown it, explained her difficulty. 
 
 The touch of nature which makes the whole woman- world 
 kin, is the love of dress-criticism. It is the great common 
 interest, and Eve s chief misery after the fall was probably 
 based upon the fact that her fig-leaves went uncriticized. 
 Nell and Melia grew still more friendly over a puzzling 
 front-breadth, and Nell, once involved, felt the responsi 
 bility, and took it up in her own practical and masterful 
 fashion. 
 
 " Leave that for the time," she told Melia, " and I ll try 
 to let you know all about it to-morrow. If we re going to do 
 it. it must be done properly, Miss Eivers. I think there are 
 directions in a ladies journal I ve got at home, and, besides, 
 I believe I can borrow a friend s skirt for a day." 
 
 With that she went off, but she came in again the next 
 morning, carrying a ladies journal and a pattern skirt, bor 
 rowed from Madge Murray for the day, and with these two 
 aids they carried out the operation successfully. 
 
 The results were many. One of them very important in 
 Melia s eyes was that she made her appearance near Fettes 
 College on the next Wednesday morning at seven fifteen 
 (she was there really at seven), knowingly attired. An 
 other result was that Nelly s liking for the girl increased 
 with further acquaintance, partly, no doubt, because one of 
 the surest ways to create a liking for anyone, is to put that 
 person under a small obligation. A third effect was that 
 Melia, finding Nelly deft with her fingers and quick- 
 brained, and " quite the lady," began to imitate her ways in
 
 A BICYCLE LESSON 141 
 
 dress and behavior always with modifications to suit her 
 self and she was a quick learner. After all, a girl who had 
 lived alone, first in London and then in Edinburgh, and still 
 kept, and deservedly kept, her self-respect, had already shown 
 a restraint and modesty that in better circumstances would 
 have stamped her at once as a lady. There are very few 
 of us who prove ourselves superior to our surroundings, but 
 Melia, quick to recognize a better standard than her own, 
 if only in dress and manner, promised to be one of these ex 
 ceptions. None of these little changes, barely begun, pre 
 vented her, of course, from devoting herself to the " bike " 
 light-heartedly. Melia turned up at Fettes that gray 
 Wednesday morning early, as I have said, and openly and 
 excitedly rejoicing. 
 
 " Thought you d chucked me ! " she shouted, as soon as 
 Peters hove in sight on a lady s machine. " I d have given 
 it to you proper, Cap n Peters, if you d brought me out ere 
 for nothing. I missed my second cup o tea this mornin for 
 fear of bein late. Let s git on at once. I b lieve you re late." 
 
 But Peters, dismounting, looked at his watch and de 
 clared he was punctual. 
 
 " Let s git on then. Ow ! ! " 
 
 Melia had thrown herself recklessly into the saddle, and 
 was in the dust, mixed up with the machine, before Peters 
 knew what she was doing. 
 
 " You are a silly little fool ! " he remarked, in a casual 
 way, raising the bicycle and looking it over carefully, while 
 Melia struggled unhelped to her feet. " What if you had 
 broken this thing ? " 
 
 " Silly fool yourself," said Melia, defiantly. " What if I 
 had broken my leg ? I thought you could hold me up, of 
 course ! " 
 
 Her leg was smarting pretty badly, and the tears stood in 
 her eyes, which rather amused Mr. Peters and put him in a 
 better temper.
 
 142 MR. PETERS 
 
 " You have JOIIT reward ! " he remarked, politely. 
 " Now, try again." 
 
 Melia felt for a moment inclined to give up cycling al 
 together, and stood frowning indignantly and alternately at 
 him and the innocent machine. But the one was as indif 
 ferent as the other to her frowns, and presently she became 
 amused and began to laugh. 
 
 " Thought "twas my park ack ! " she explained. " Let s 
 go slow this time," and she mounted gingerly under Peters 
 direction. 
 
 That gentleman s heart, about which he had expressed 
 himself so much concerned, was fairly well tested before 
 the lesson was over. Melia was no feather-weight, and after 
 her first tumble was forgotten, which happened quickly as 
 she grew yet more excited, she flung herself about des 
 perately, and with an abandon which showed a most com 
 plete and complimentary belief in Mr. Peters strength and 
 endurance. She rode at impossible angles, screaming, but 
 going ahead nevertheless, until Peters insisted upon a rest, 
 and, mopping his forehead, propped the machine against 
 the railing and sat down. 
 
 " My ! " said Melia, surveying him with interest, 
 " you re fair done up ! Ow s your art ? Don t let me kill 
 you ! " 
 
 " Exercise is its best medicine," Peters assured her, polite 
 once more, and panting. 
 
 " Glad to hear it," said Melia, " for that s wot you re get 
 ting. Say when you re ready for more of the same sort ! " 
 
 " Five minutes ! " entreated Peters, and Melia waited, 
 though grudgingly, remarking that her time was short. 
 
 " Now, then, just a little turn ! " she told him, not three 
 minutes later, and Peters resisted no more. 
 
 " P r aps I ll be able to get help for you in a few days," 
 she told him as they started. 
 
 " Ah ! Who ? " asked Peters, thinking that the fair-
 
 A BICYCLE LESSON 143 
 
 haired boy from Dnimshengh Gardens, whose acquaintance 
 he intended to make, might have volunteered. 
 
 " Oh, there s someone besides you who ll be here in a day 
 or two, ready to give me a hand," said Melia, pedalling 
 away vigorously. " I m expectin my pa every day." 
 
 There was a moment s silence, and then Melia shrieked 
 with pain. 
 
 " Ow ! " she yelled. " What are you doin , Cap n Peters ? 
 Oh, stop, do ! My fingers ! " for Peters hand, lying over 
 hers upon the left handle, had suddenly closed like a vice, 
 and the pain to Melia was unendurable. 
 
 When he understood what was the matter, Peters helped 
 her off, and apologized most humbly. 
 
 " It s fair crushed ! " Melia told him, pitifully. " There s 
 no feelin in it. Were you taken bad ? " 
 
 " My heart," he told her. " A sudden pain, and besides I 
 thought you were falling off." 
 
 " Xever was nowhere near falling off," Melia declared. 
 And another time I d rather fall off, if it s all the same to 
 you." 
 
 At this Peters expressed his penitence once more, and 
 ? Melia forgave him. 
 
 " It s time to stop anyway," she said, " and now I come 
 to look at you, you are a bit white. Are you fit to ride ? " 
 
 Oh, yes, Mr. Peters felt all right again, and thought he 
 would ride in to his breakfast. So he bowed ceremoniously 
 and wont away down the hill. As he went, Mr. Peters, al 
 though no authority on Holy Writ, was recalling a sentence 
 heard somewhere long ago, about casting bread upon the 
 waters, and was more than satisfied with his morning s exer 
 cise, while his appetite struck terror to the heart of Mrs. 
 Jimps, who presided at the breakfast-table, and watched 
 his forays upon the dishes anxiously, from behind the coffee- 
 machine. 
 
 But Melia had to make straight for the shop, though, by
 
 144 Mil. PETERS 
 
 reason of a small and hurried breakfast and the unusual 
 exercise, she felt already hungry again. She hurried away, 
 stretching her legs, and stepping out as well as her high- 
 heeled, pointed-toed shoes would let her, with a hand now 
 and then placed delicately upon her right hip, which began 
 to feel stiff. 
 
 " I shall be one mask of brooses to-morrow ! " she told 
 herself, but hurried on cheerfully and in high spirits never 
 theless. 
 
 She fancied herself very much, too, in the short blue serge 
 skirt, and began to wonder, as she walked, whether Fortune 
 had smiled sufficiently upon her father to guarantee, at any- 
 rate, a pair of cycling shoes for her. This seemed a modest 
 and not unattainable piece of happiness, and she wondered 
 whether white shoes could be worn, or whether she ought to 
 content herself with brown. This she would consult Nell 
 upon, when a time came for her to choose; meanwhile 
 things seemed so promising, and the morning, for early 
 November, so fine, that she went smiling along the little 
 back street, and nodded in such a friendly way to her rival 
 in the dirty smoking cap, that the tobacco-dried little man, 
 watching her as she hurried by, had vague feelings of lone 
 liness, and went back into his hole to day-dreams of partner 
 ship and mutual profit, with enlarged premises, extended 
 business, and some one to pour out his tea for him. Mean 
 while Melia, pressing on, had reached her place and gone in. 
 She laid and lit the fire, and put on the kettle, declaring to 
 the Highlander standing in the middle of the shop-floor 
 (whom she was accustomed to address disrespectfully as 
 Sandy, or Old Man), that she really must have some more 
 breakfast. Then it was time to sweep the shop out, take 
 down the shutters, and dust the jars and boxes, after which 
 she wheeled " Sandy " out to his post, giving him a good 
 dusting that he might look, as she told him, like a " shentle- 
 man." Then from the tiny press she hauled part of a loaf,
 
 A BICYCLE LESSON 145 
 
 some so-called butter, and a tea-caddy. In a few minutes 
 she began feeding ravenously, while her foot kept up a con 
 stant tattoo upon the floor, because she was still in such high 
 spirits. Now and then she stretched out a foot and surveyed 
 an ankle, more easily seen on account of the short skirt. 
 She wished Miss Moriarty would come in and tell her how 
 the skirt looked, and all the time she was drinking and 
 munching away vigorously, wondering, too, when Cap n 
 Peters would give her another turn, and how long it would 
 take before she could ride alone. 
 
 Hunger being at last satisfied, she put away what was left, 
 which, she noticed with some self-reproach, was not much, 
 and then, everything being ready for customers, she sat 
 down again. 
 
 Her excitement was dying away, and she began to feel 
 tired. The bruised hip made itself felt a little, and sitting 
 in the tiny room behind the curtain she leant back in as 
 comfortable a position as the old settee would allow, and be 
 gan to half -think, half-dream, with closed eyes. 
 
 What was her father going to be like ? What would he 
 do for her ? Not much, she expected, for Melia only let 
 her fancy run riot when she chose, principally while read 
 ing, or when purposely making up stories for herself, as she 
 sometimes did. Then fancy was legitimate, and she met 
 with the best of fortunes, and moved in the highest circles, 
 principally, of late, on a cream-colored bicycle with all the 
 newest improvements. But when it came to the probable 
 and the practicable in her everyday life, and for her every 
 day self, Melia dismounted from her two-wheeled Pegasus, 
 and walked undismayed in the dust of a workaday world, 
 and it was to that world that she believed her father to be 
 long. A little wild she thought he had probably been, and 
 possibly weak and selfish. Her mother had not encouraged 
 questions about him, and had upon her death-bed given 
 poor Melia most distinctly to understand that, if she wished 
 10
 
 146 MR. PETERS 
 
 a firm footing in the world, she must make it apart from her 
 father, and keep it by her own efforts, and Melia had never 
 forgotten that. He was most likely coming by chance, and 
 would go as he had gone once before. A stray present or 
 two, gloves, even a dress maybe, or a hat, not forgetting 
 cycling shoes, and perhaps a night or two at the theatre; 
 these were the things she might, not unreasonably, hope for. 
 But, having more or less rigidly marked out the boundaries 
 of common-sense, surely one might go beyond them, openly 
 masquerading. 
 
 " Now, fancy, if " was the way in which Melia began 
 these wanderings, and off she went. The handle-bars of her 
 bicycle became solid silver, with a diamond set at each end. 
 The pedals were of pure gold, regardless of wear and tear, 
 for was she not rich enough to get fresh ones whenever she 
 wanted them ? The saddle was a happy and peculiar com 
 bination of air and eider-down. There was a watch set in 
 brilliants at the back of the handle-bars, while in front 
 blazed a great diamond, like fifty crown jewels, instead of a 
 lamp. She wore the blue skirt, beautified with long rows of 
 great pearls, and there was a diamond buckle on each of her 
 white-kid red-heeled shoes, and another blazing in the front 
 of her hat, as the electric lights blazed on the heads of fairies 
 she had seen in last year s pantomime, while at the back of 
 the hat, she knew, though she couldn t see it, was the rarest 
 and reddest of rubies, to act as a red lamp. 
 
 And who was this by her side ? Who but Mr. Arctic 
 Inch, booted and spurred, gallantly riding a bicycle that 
 pranced and reared, while Miss Moriarty and her pa looked 
 on, clapping their hands, and Cap n Peters peered over their 
 shoulders from behind, looking white and ill as he did for 
 a moment in the morning. Where were they going ? Surely 
 that was a church, all lit up, in front of them ! As she dis 
 mounted at the door Miss Moriarty and her pa were clap 
 ping louder than ever. But why did Cap n Peters,
 
 A BICYCLE LESSON 147 
 
 stretching a long arm from behind them, squeeze her hand 
 so hard ? 
 
 Melia started up with the pain, and found that, in a doze, 
 she had turned on the settee, and was crushing her bruised 
 hand against the wall. But the clapping still went on, and 
 presently realizing that there was someone in the shop, she 
 screamed, " Coming ! " and with a hurried glimpse in the 
 four-inch mirror, to see if her hair was straight, she lifted 
 the curtain and went into the front shop.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 s 
 
 A FOND PARENT 
 
 IT was a rather peculiar figure that faced Melia as she 
 stood behind the counter. A flaming red tie formed as it 
 were the key-note. Above the tie shone the glossiest and 
 curliest-brimmed of " toppers," and between the hat and the 
 tie curled a ferocious, blue-black mustache. Other items 
 were a frock-coat faced with silk, a corded velveteen waist 
 coat, and a very yellow chain hanging across it. Also a pair 
 of yellow kid gloves, the left one on, the right one held in a 
 dirty hand. These things, mostly of tailordom, do not make 
 a portrait, but they were the details first noticed, and led 
 Melia to a hasty conclusion. 
 
 " A theatrical gent ! " she decided, and was not perhaps 
 so far wrong as she imagined herself to be one minute later. 
 The owner of the glossy hat raised it, showing an equally 
 glossy head. 
 
 " Can you," he began, politely, " tell me whether a Miss 
 Buncombe resides here ? " and then, before Melia could 
 answer him- 
 
 " My daughter ! " he announced with fervor, and Melia 
 found herself embraced across the counter, her nose, which 
 was naturally a trifle tip-tilted, being made aquiline against 
 the corded velveteen waistcoat. 
 
 " At last," said Buncombe, with a well-marked tremor in 
 liis voice, " I have got what I have so long worked for ! " 
 and Melia, who, after all, had never been accustomed to 
 over-much affection, or to the thought of anyone working 
 for her, was moved to such an extent that she couldn t help
 
 A FOND PARENT 149 
 
 sniffing quietly a very little and letting a tear fall upon 
 the red tie, which tear, however, she wiped away hastily, for 
 fear it should take the color out. 
 
 Buncombe then held her off at arm s length over the 
 counter, which was still between them. 
 
 " My little Era ly ! " he protested, " I should have known 
 you anywhere ! " which may or may not have been true, 
 but Buncombe had spent almost every evening at the thea 
 tre lately, and had seen several stage-fathers greet their 
 daughters. 
 
 " I m glad to see you," Melia told him, wiping her eyes 
 and blowing her nose without any attempt either to hide or 
 to exaggerate her feelings. " I m gladder than I thought 
 I d be. You didn t seem real somehow till you came in. 
 Come into my room and sit down, Pa, so as no one will see me 
 like this if they drop in," and, clutching Buncombe s hand, 
 she led him behind the curtain. Then, carefully taking the 
 glossy hat and a cane from him, and putting them respect 
 fully in a place of safety, she sat down beside him on the old 
 settee, half laughing, half crying. 
 
 Now that his lower half was no longer hidden from Me 
 lia by the counter, fresh beauties showed themselves to her 
 in the shape of a bluish pair of trousers, white spats, and 
 patent leather boots. 
 
 " You are a swell ! " she said, admiringly, and ventured, 
 after consideration, to give him a little hug, which Bun 
 combe took undemonstratively, being occupied in looking 
 about him. 
 
 " Rather a hole for my daughter ! " he announced pres 
 ently, and poked his head through the curtain, to have an 
 other look at the shop. 
 
 " I don t mind," said Melia, valiantly. " Beggars mustn t 
 be choosers," and then she stopped with a jerk and a blush, 
 because she had a dim idea that she seemed to be saying 
 something that reflected upon her newly found parent. He,
 
 150 MR. PETERS 
 
 however, perhaps not being so sensitive, took no notice, but, 
 stepping out into the shop, chose a cigar. 
 
 " No one to object to my smoking here, I suppose," he 
 said, coming back. 
 
 " No," said Melia, and added promptly, after looking at 
 the cigar from which Buncombe was biting the end, " that s 
 i ourpence ! " 
 
 " I ll put the money in the till, myself, in a minute," she 
 went on, hurriedly, seeing that he stared at her. " I m so 
 afraid of forgetting a thing like that. Let me give it to 
 you, Pa." 
 
 " You don t mean to say you d pay Eivers for a thing like 
 that ? " asked Buncombe, staring at her. 
 
 " Eivers ! " Melia repeated the name, puzzled, until the 
 joke slowly dawned upon her, and she burst out laughing, 
 while Buncombe stood, with the unlit cigar in his hand, 
 waiting for an explanation. 
 
 " You spotted it over the door ? " she asked, presently. 
 " That s my name, that is. It s only been up a week ! " 
 
 " Your name ! " asked Buncombe, as astonished as if he 
 had not changed his own periodically. " Are you married 
 then ? " 
 
 This tickled Melia s fancy immensely, and she laughed 
 louder than ever, so loudly that neither of them heard a step 
 on the other side of the curtain. 
 
 " Me married, Pa ! " she gasped, when she could speak. 
 " Not much ! It was just a joke of mine. Miss Rivers, I m 
 known as hereabouts. But," she went on after a moment s 
 hesitation, " I ve thought lately I was a silly fool for my 
 pains, and of course, now you re back, it s a different thing. 
 I ll stop it, though," she added, regretfully ; " it s just new 
 painted up. However, we ll see about that, and anyway 
 I ll tell those as care to know." 
 
 She then proceeded to explain her responsible position, 
 but Buncombe, as the state of affairs dawned upon him,
 
 A FOND PARENT 151 
 
 looked at the question of the name from a different point 
 of view, and seemed quite to enjoy the joke. 
 
 " Ah, Youth, Youth ! " he said, shaking his head smil 
 ingly over his cigar, " you ve your poor father s love of the 
 romantic, my dear. After all, where s the harm ? As you 
 say, it would be a pity to have the painting done over again. 
 Let the thing be, and say nothing for the time. I daresay it 
 won t be for long, Emily ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Melia, who in the last week or two had really 
 begun to feel rather ashamed of this fancy, together with 
 one or two other things about herself which were not quite 
 as they seemed. " Yes, but ow can we ? I m your daugh 
 ter, and if you re goin to be about, as of course you are, why, 
 ow can I be Rivers any more ? Unless you d be Rivers 
 too ! " 
 
 This struck her as more than ridiculous and impossible, 
 and she went off into peals of laughter again, under cover of 
 which the patient customer, outside, moved closer yet, until 
 he was only separated from them by the curtain. 
 
 Inside, Buncombe joined in Melia s enjoyment of the 
 joke. 
 
 " Good, very good ! " he told her. " I d do more than 
 that to see my little girl laugh as she laughs now. Rivers 
 let it be, by all means." 
 
 " Oh, it isn t worth the trouble for you," said Melia, 
 stopping her laughter, and beginning to consider. " If I ve 
 been a silly, why, I deserve to have people laugh at me, as 
 they will." 
 
 But Buncombe s paternal feeling would not allow this. 
 
 " No one shall laugh at my girl while her poor old dad is 
 near," he assured her. " Rivers it shall be, I insist upon it. 
 Think how very foolish you would seem. Your employer 
 might even think it dishonesty, when it is only a romantic 
 girl s fancy. Emily, my child, I insist upon it Rivers." 
 
 " Well, Pa, you know best," Melia agreed, enjoying the
 
 152 MR. PETERS 
 
 change of having someone to give her peremptory orders, 
 and decide for her. " But your clothes and things ! It s 
 always found out that way in novels. Not that it matters 
 so much here. We ve nothing to hide, cept the name." 
 
 " Everything fresh on me, my dear, from top to toe," said 
 Buncombe, reassuringly. " I had a new outfit in London, 
 and left it all for you to mark. I knew you d wish to. My 
 trunk is at the station still. I ll fetch it, tear off the label, 
 put on Rivers, and there you are ! Eureka ! as we used to 
 say at Oxford, and wh o is the worse or the wiser ? " 
 
 The patient customer was the wiser, by a glimpse of Bun 
 combe s black-mustached face, through a split seam in the 
 curtain, and Eureka might have come more appropriately 
 from him. It was as well also that he should know of this 
 changed name before being introduced to Miss Rivers Pa, 
 since she herself had said, at their first meeting, that he 
 called himself Buncombe. 
 
 Apparently the customer was now struck by the impro 
 priety of listening, unseen, to conversation between father 
 and daughter, for, the next time that Melia began to laugh, 
 he moved away, and went out into the street while they 
 chattered, as quietly as his own black shadow. 
 
 Mr. Peters, for Mr. Peters it was, went slowly some dis 
 tance down the street. His eyes, as he went, were wide 
 open, and quite as bright as usual, but he cannot have been 
 using them very effectively, since he was only prevented 
 from being run over at the first turning by a cab, through 
 the yells of the cabman. The man s forcible statement, as 
 to his opinion of Peters generally, and Peters eyes in par 
 ticular, roused him. but didn t ruffle him in the least. On 
 the contrary, he politely waved his thanks, standing there 
 on the curb, and, presently turning, went back to the shop, 
 having remembered that his errand was unfulfilled. 
 
 " A pair of cycling shoes ? " he heard a voice from the 
 back room saying, as he passed in. " Of course, Emily.
 
 A FOND PARENT 153 
 
 The best that money can buy, in a few days, as soon as my 
 business is set agoing." 
 
 But Mr. Peters, influenced no doubt by the delicacy 
 which made him leave the place before, did not wait to hear 
 further. He rapped loudly upon the floor with his um 
 brella, and Melia at once made an appearance. 
 
 " I came, Miss Rivers," he said, " to ask for you. Your 
 fall has troubled me. Tell me, you are well ? " 
 
 " Wy, here s Cap n Peters ! My Pa s come, Cap n 
 Peters ! " 
 
 " What a pleasure ! " said Peters, enthusiastically. " Tell 
 me that you are well, Miss Eivers, and I leave you to him." 
 
 " Not a bit ! " Melia declared. " Pa, come out and be 
 introduced to Cap n Peters that I told you about." 
 
 So Rivers, as we must call him now, came out, and was 
 formally introduced. 
 
 " My Pa, Cap n Peters ! " 
 
 " Delighted ! " said her father, shaking hands affably. 
 " Of what regiment, sir ? " 
 
 Melia began to laugh, but Peters was untroubled. 
 
 " I am enlisted among your daughter s admirers, Mr. 
 Rivers," he told him, with a profound bow. " It is the only 
 regiment I have joined." 
 
 " Cap n Peters belongs to the sea," Melia explained. 
 
 " Ah ! Royal Navy ? " suggested Rivers. 
 
 " No, a wanderer," Peters explained, " in the ships of 
 many nations." 
 
 " Cap n Peters has been in the States," suggested Melia. 
 
 " Ah ! Where, for example ? " asked Rivers, suddenly 
 watchful. 
 
 " I have discharged cargo at Boston," said Peters, think 
 ing carefully, "and have loaded at Florida twice, Mr. 
 Rivers." 
 
 " A most honorable occupation," Rivers asserted, with 
 a somewhat condescending air, having suddenly remem-
 
 154 MR. PETERS 
 
 bered Oxford. " The mercantile marine of the world, sir, 
 includes many of its finest men. Those that go down to 
 the sea in ships. And when is your next voyage ? " 
 
 Peters couldn t tell him. 
 
 " I have worked," he admitted, " too hard to have time 
 to spend. But we sailors are a lot of silly, extravagant dogs. 
 When we have a few hundreds we are foolish children. 1 
 shall wait a little, and enjoy myself a little, before I go far 
 again. We are a careless lot." 
 
 Rivers inwardly quite agreed to this, but outwardly pro 
 tested. 
 
 " A simple, straightforward body of men, taken alto 
 gether, sir," he insisted. " I have met with men of your 
 profession in business, and have found them most satis 
 factory to deal with " which was absolutely true. 
 
 While this was going on, Melia, who stood by, had been 
 following her own train of thought. As soon as she told 
 her father that Peters had been in the States, she recollected 
 their first meeting, and their chat about her name. " A 
 silly Juggins " was the mildest that she could call herself, 
 and it puzzled her to know what she ought to do. But 
 Peters showed no sign of remembering about it. Her father 
 was at once " Mr. Rivers," and Melia, listening, gave a 
 little sigh of relief. " I m sick of these muddles," she 
 thought, " I ve told em both what a fool I was, and if Cap n 
 Peters chooses to forget, why it s not my business, and 
 makes no difference anyway. We re Riverscs now, once for 
 all, me an him, an there s an end of it." 
 
 She was disturbed in her meditations by Mr. Peters offer 
 ing to say good-by, and Rivers begging him not to hurry. 
 
 " Em ly and I have had our little chat," Rivers told him, 
 " and I must go off presently to hunt for lodgings. Before 
 you go, Captain Peters, perhaps you could suggest rooms for 
 me. Emily cannot help me in that, I fancy." 
 
 Peters thought carefully. " For you and Miss Rivers ? "
 
 A FOND PARENT 155 
 
 he suggested, but Rivers put him right upon that point at 
 once. 
 
 " Not yet ! " he said, hastily. " I may tell you as a 
 friend, if you will allow me to call you one, Captain Peters, 
 that I hope to manage that soon. This er occupation 
 is not suitable for any daughter of mine, but for a few days 
 it will be best for her to make no change of any kind." 
 
 Melia s face had lighted up at Peters suggestion, and 
 now clouded proportionately, but she had no thought of 
 argument. 
 
 " Yes, Pa, you know best," she agreed, and Peters con 
 sidered again. 
 
 " There is a most respectable lady, a Mrs. Jimps," he 
 admitted, " who is excellent for a poor man like me, and 
 I am content there. But for a rich man - - ! " and he 
 put aside the idea of the House of Residence, for such as 
 Mr. Rivers, with a single shrug. 
 
 " Not so rich," Rivers insisted, modestly. " One may 
 have prospects, and a little cash in hand to come and go 
 upon, like yourself, Captain Peters, but one must econo 
 mize in the meantime. Now, I think Mrs. Jinks might suit 
 me admirably." 
 
 " There are no luxuries," protested the ungrateful Peters, 
 who must have forgotten the partridge leg, but Mr. Rivers 
 was persistent. 
 
 " I have roughed it in my time," he allowed. " I can do 
 so again if necessary. Is it near by ? I must not be far 
 from my daughter s place of business, while she remains 
 in it." 
 
 From the tone, and from the glance which he cast upon 
 these modest premises, it was quite obvious that the aristo 
 cratic name of Rivers would soon be painted out. 
 
 It was near, Peters admitted, almost grudgingly, but 
 it was dull to desperation. He had to come out of it to get 
 amusement.
 
 156 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Even then," he suggested, " these good Scotch people 
 are dull. Their Sabbath, observe, leaves a man only eating, 
 drinking, and sleeping. Whist is the only game I have ever 
 seen in the house of my good Mrs. Jimps for counters." 
 
 " Ah, you sailors ! You must have excitement," Rivers 
 said, shaking his head over the sinf ulness of the class, with 
 a fatherly smile. " A quiet place will suit me very well. 
 Captain Peters. A quiet, respectable place where I can rest 
 my old bones, and be near my daughter. You and I might 
 sometimes be company for one another, Captain Peters," 
 and Peters had to allow that, as a pleasant possibility. 
 
 He made no more demur, but gave Rivers the address, 
 and indeed offered to go with him to fetch his luggage. 
 But Rivers, recollecting the label thereon, declined, and 
 Peters did not press the point. He bowed his adieu to 
 Melia, after assuring himself that she was none the worse 
 for her tumble, and, leaving her father at the first street 
 corner, went away to prepare Mrs. Jimps for the advent of 
 another Paying Guest. 
 
 He had gone some yards when a loud " Hi ! " made him 
 turn, to find himself pursued by the breathless Rivers, who 
 laid a yellow-gloved hand upon his arm, and apologized for 
 troubling him. 
 
 " It has just occurred to me, Captain Peters," said 
 Melia s Pa, " that to mention, at your House of Residence, 
 my daughter s present false and temporary position, is quite 
 unnecessary. In fact, shall we let her be unmentioned, ex 
 cept between ourselves ? " and this was agreed.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 TOM DTTNBAR : POET AND STRATEGIST 
 
 To accuse a hitherto ingenuous youth of unblushing hy 
 pocrisy is no small matter, and yet it now seems necessary to 
 do so, lest others should be deceived. Let it therefore be 
 plainly stated that, at about this time, Tom began to play a 
 double game. It would be almost equally true if one put 
 the case another way, and said that, at about this time, he be 
 gan to do double work. He " swatted,"as he put it, most 
 manfully, at his legitimate labors, but toiled in other fields 
 as well, and under false pretences. Having found Mori- 
 arty s weak point, he set himself to attack it. He bom 
 barded the unsuspecting man with Couplets, Triolets, Eon- 
 dels, Eondeaus, Sonnets, and the Lord knows what besides. 
 He began by dropping in on a Friday, which everyone, at 
 least in Edinburgh, knows is supposed to be an off -night for 
 all students. Whether it is or no, depends upon the par 
 ticular student. The second Friday that he came, quite im 
 promptu as it were, and with not the least intention of stay 
 ing, unless asked to do so, a dispute arose between Lucius 
 and himself about a certain quotation, which made it abso 
 lutely necessary for Tom to return with that quotation the 
 next evening, which, of course, being Saturday, gave Nelly 
 no excuse for scolding him. 
 
 As she said, when he offered a sort of apology, it was, 
 after all, no affair of hers. He knew best what time he 
 could spare, she told him, and then she sat dumb, working 
 at a shaving tidy for Lucius, and took no part in the heated 
 literary discussion that followed, though several efforts were 
 made to get her entangled. The result was that her father,
 
 158 MR. PETERS 
 
 much puzzled and troubled by her neglect of their visitor, 
 " a powerful well-read fellow too/ as he told her afterwards, 
 tried to atone and cover it by extra courtesy, and finished 
 the dispute by asking him to dine with them next day, 
 which, of course, would be Sunday. 
 
 When Tom refused, hastily, with a mutter of something 
 about a little quiet reading, Lucius grew indignant, and 
 called upon Nell, stitching in silence, to help him. 
 
 " Begor ! " he demanded, " is this a Christian city, and 
 will you and I encourage a chap to work seven days a 
 week?" 
 
 " We re out of date, dear," Nell told him, her eyes still 
 fixed upon her work. " I don t suppose our opinion can 
 make any difference." 
 
 " I m so afraid of boring you," protested Tom. 
 
 " Any of our friends are welcome on Sunday," Nell said, 
 still stitching, " if they don t find us too quiet." 
 
 Too quiet ! when to sit in the same room with her sent 
 Tom s pulse up some ten beats a minute, while to suddenly 
 meet her in the street seemed to make his heart leap to his 
 mouth. Too quiet ! He tried to make his eyes express all 
 this, while, in ordinary language, he said how pleased he 
 would be to dine with them. The result was that Sunday 
 found him there, at early dinner, according to the custom of 
 the house, and Sunday afternoon, between dinner and tea, 
 proved, for Nell at anyrate, anything but a quiet time. For 
 after dinner she had to entertain their guest alone. 
 
 " It s me habit," Lucius admitted, after dessert, " to lie 
 quiet, an think of the sermon for awhile. I find that fixes 
 it in me memory, an I get good out of it that otherwise 
 possibly I wouldn t. Maybe, after I ve thought it over, an 
 the bearings of it, I go to sleep. But you ll not mind that, 
 Tom ? We ll go up to the drawing-room, and Nell will 
 amuse ye there, while I think on the sofa." So up they 
 went.
 
 TOM DUNBAR: POET AND STRATEGIST 159 
 
 So rapidly was Lucius, through long practice, able to re 
 view a sermon, and get the bearings of it, that five minutes 
 after he had begun his meditation he melodiously pro 
 claimed the fact by a hearty snore, which, coming suddenly 
 upon the stillness of the room, made Tom start, and set Nell 
 laughing heartily, though quietly enough. 
 
 " I didn t know you were so easily frightened," she told 
 him softly. 
 
 " I don t think my nerves are as good as they were," Tom 
 admitted, with somewhat the air of one who expected sym 
 pathy. 
 
 " Rubbish ! " retorted Nell icily. " What s wrong with 
 them ? " but suddenly dreading that the imminent explana 
 tion would make matters worse, she explained for herself. 
 " I m afraid you smoke too much," she told him. 
 
 " Perhaps I do," agreed Tom meekly. " I generally 
 smoke some of the Dream tobacco while I m trying to make 
 rhymes for Mr. Moriarty to get the right spirit, you 
 know." 
 
 " A lot that will help you for the Final ! " Nell told him 
 disdainfully. " Why do you do it ? Then at the last 
 you ll either break down or be spun (i.e. fail), and you ll 
 blame us, and we shall blame ourselves, and neither will be 
 any use." 
 
 " You might guess why I do it," Tom told her, thinking 
 he saw his chance at last, and raising his voice as his hopes 
 rose. " You know very well that I d do anything 
 
 " Sh-sh-sh," Nell interrupted hurriedly. " For goodness 
 sake, don t talk so loudly. I know you d do anything for 
 him, but if you say it so loudly you ll wake him up, and it 
 does make him so cross if he s wakened before the tea comes 
 up. Would you mind putting some coal on, softly, because 
 I don t want him to find the fire out, and if I ring up Jean, 
 she s sure to rush in and make a noise before I can stop her ? 
 Oil, thank you so much."
 
 160 MB. PETERS 
 
 Tom rose, I will not say willingly,, to do as she wished, 
 while Nell sat racking her brains for topics of conversation 
 that would be safe. They seemed few, and not easily intro 
 duced. When Tom came back, after having nearly awa 
 kened Lucius by letting a large lump of coal smash on the 
 fender, she was still groping for a really safe theme, and had 
 to take what she could find, anxious above all things, sud 
 denly and for feminine reasons not to be easily explained, 
 that he should have no chance of steering the conversation. 
 
 " Have you any more of those verses with you ? " 
 
 Yes, curiously enough, Tom had, and was decoyed into 
 producing them, while Nell, settling herself into an attitude 
 of calm attention, gazed fixedly at the fire. 
 
 " You re sure you want to hear them ? " asked Tom 
 doubtfully. " They re awful rubbish, you know. I m 
 afraid they ll bore you." 
 
 " Oh, not at all," Nell told him hastily, " I d much rather 
 hear them than anything else," and then, reflecting that her 
 speech might be misunderstood, she fell into a rosy confu 
 sion, masked to some extent by the blaze from the fire, and 
 hastily bade him be quick and read them before her father 
 woke, " since he has heard them all before," she added. 
 
 We must bear with Tom while he reads one or two, be 
 cause they are so symptomatic of his condition. At least 
 we are better off than poor Nell, who had to face a big fire 
 if she wished to avoid being noticed, as she alternately 
 smiled and frowned, but persistently blushed through it all. 
 
 Say, gentles, say, what good thing lack ye, 
 Since having me, ye have good baccy ? 
 I feed the hungry, and with hope 
 I cheer fond lovers when they mope. 
 
 "Dear me!" Nell chimed in, directly he finished. 
 " That s very nice, but is it true ? As a doctor, now, would 
 you recommend tobacco for food ? "
 
 TOM DUNBAR: POET AND STRATEGIST 161 
 
 " It s better than nothing," Tom told her, a trifle gloom 
 ily, not being sure whether or no she was laughing at him. 
 
 " Then, cheering fond lovers with hope ! " Nell went on 
 remorselessly, because she couldn t stop to think. " Of 
 course, if that s enough for them it s all right. But I 
 shouldn t think it very satisfying in the end ! Now 
 
 " He s a lucky fellow who gets so much," interrupted 
 Tom, leaning forward and trying to get a glimpse of the 
 face turned towards the fire. " Oh, Miss Moriarty; Nell, if 
 only- 
 
 " Oh ! sh-sh-sh ! " Nell told him ; " you mustn t speak so 
 loudly. If you wake father before tea comes up, he finds 
 it quite hard to be polite. Now he s stirring, and, if we 
 suddenly stop talking, the stillness will wake him just as 
 badly as a noise would, and he ll want to know what s the 
 matter. Do go on, please ! The next piece, right straight 
 on; they re so pretty ! " 
 
 Tom choked down some words expressive of his state of 
 mind, and, glaring furiously at the innocent scape-goat ly 
 ing on the sofa, who turned uneasily in his dreams, read on 
 in an aggressive way not at all suited to the sentiment of the 
 piece 
 
 If you would see your fairest fair, 
 Her dainty form and feature, 
 Smoke ! and upon the clouded air 
 Will float the mocking 1 creature. 
 
 But if you d put a bruised heart 
 Upon the torturing- rack-oh 
 Touch not the pipe ! but, sighing, part 
 With all your sweet tobacco. 
 
 " What s a racko ? " asked Nell, swift upon the closing 
 
 line. " Oh, I see what you mean ! I beg your pardon. 
 
 How stupid of me ! What a comfort it must be to have 
 
 a pipe. Why aren t women allowed to smoke, I wonder ? " 
 
 11
 
 162 ME. PETERS 
 
 " They don t need comforting, I expect/ Tom growled, 
 feeling rather surly, and very much of a fool. " I think 
 they d have more pity on a fellow if they had any feelings." 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Nell innocently, " I didn t know you 
 had such a poor opinion of women ! Has Chloris been un 
 kind ? There s father stirring again ! The least little 
 thing would wake him, and he is so cross when he doesn t 
 wake up naturally, unless his tea is ready. But it will be up 
 in a minute. Perhaps I d better wake him unless you ve 
 anything more to read to me ! " 
 
 " Mayn t we talk instead ? " asked Tom dolefully. 
 
 " Not for worlds ! " Nell told him hurriedly. " If he 
 wakes he must have his tea at once, and he ll wake in a 
 minute unless one goes on in a sort of reading sing-song 
 voice, don t you know ? Do read me just one more at any- 
 rate ! Have you any more like that pretty one to Chloris 
 that you read us the other night ? Perhaps you ve got the 
 same one there. I d like to hear it again." 
 
 " Mr. Moriarty has it still," said Tom disconsolately, at 
 which Nell smiled to the fire, knowing otherwise, " and I 
 haven t another copy with me, I m sorry to say. If you d 
 like one I ll bring it another time, but he s got that one in 
 his desk ; I saw him put it there." 
 
 " That s a pity," said Nell, philosophically enough, " and 
 his desk is- locked. But you might read me just one more 
 before the tea comes up. If you ve got another for 
 Chloris ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Tom desperately, " I ve got another for 
 Chloris, but whether she ll like it or not is another ques 
 tion 
 
 Chloris plagued me day by day, 
 
 Smiled, beguiled, and frowned, and floiited. 
 At her little feet I lay, 
 
 Looked and worshipped, never doubted, 
 Only raised my eyes to see 
 Chloris, my divinity.
 
 TOM DUNBAR: POET AND STRATEGIST 163 
 
 Till at lastj one careless day, 
 
 Neath those feet, she thought she crushed me, 
 Laughing. When, to her dismay, 
 
 Kising, straight, I shook and brushed me, 
 Knelt no more, no more did pray, 
 
 Gave a yawn and came away." 
 
 " Bravo ! " cried Lucius, huskily, from where he lay 
 stretched, only half-awake. " That s right, Tom, my boy ! 
 Don t stand any nonsense from em. Nell, my dear, ring up 
 the tea at once, will you ? I ve thought it all out, and 
 I guess I can tackle the minister next time he comes, an 
 make him feel he s got listening, thinking, practical men 
 sitting under him, though they may not be so wise as some. 
 Tom, that last was a fine piece, me boy, and ye read it most 
 feelingly. She s a sly minx, your Chloris, I reckon ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 PATIENCE ! 
 
 THAT same Sunday, the second which he spent in Edin 
 burgh, Kivers began to feel dull. The previous Sunday, he 
 had managed to keep himself awake, by spending the 
 greater part of his time with Melia. They went to early 
 service at St. Giles , and took a long walk afterwards, and 
 another in the afternoon, when Peters went with them. 
 
 But this time it was different. The latter part of that 
 November was marked by thick fogs, one of which fell upon 
 this particular Sunday, blurring all things to a colorless 
 gloom, and rousing in Rivers an almost uncontrollable de 
 sire for strong drink. This, the man very well knew, was 
 what he must above all things fight against, until he had 
 settled, one way or the other, whether there were any pros 
 pects of making his visit a financial success. After that 
 point was decided he promised himself a royal spree, which 
 ever way things might turn out. Meanwhile he was sober 
 and snappish, but in no great danger for that day, since he 
 had carefully avoided bringing drink into his room, and it 
 was not easy, on a Sunday, to get any outside it. 
 
 He met Melia in the morning, and lectured the poor girl 
 peevishly upon her pronunciation and other little failings, 
 until she was covered with shamed silence. Others might 
 say what they would, and Melia light-heartedly held her 
 own against them, but, to this pere prodigue, she was all 
 dutiful submission. 
 
 " I ll try, Pa," she said, humbly, in answer to his in-
 
 PATIENCE ! 165 
 
 struction as to the value of aspirates, but Elvers was not 
 satisfied. 
 
 " That s another silly thing you say," he pointed out. 
 " Why Pa ? It s American, not British. You never 
 hear a well-bred British subject say ( Pa ! " 
 
 " I haven t met many real ladies/ Melia suggested in 
 self-defense, which only made matters worse. 
 
 " Are you going to complain of that, too ? " Rivers 
 demanded, melodramatically, " and at a time when I risk 
 everything for you ? This is a daughter s gratitude ! " 
 
 " I m sure I never meant anything," Melia pleaded, 
 scarcely able to pick her way through the mud because of 
 the blinding tears, which she would not lift a handkerchief 
 to wipe away. " I didn t think 
 
 " You should think ! " interrupted Rivers, sharply. 
 " Thoughtlessness like that is what I cannot, and will not, 
 stand. I shall go back to my rooms now. No, you needn t 
 come with me. I need to consider my plans for your bene 
 fit. You might use a day like this as an opportunity for 
 thinking over some of the faults I have spoken of ! " 
 
 With that, and a nod, he turned towards the House of 
 Residence, which he had not yet allowed her to come near, 
 and poor Melia, plodding her way alone to her little room, 
 rejoiced in the fog, since it let her cry, unchecked through 
 any fear of being observed by passers-by, who came to 
 wards her looming like shadows for. one instant, and were 
 utterly lost the next. 
 
 Rivers, letting himself in with the latch-key provided by 
 Mrs. Jimps, paused at his own door, and then turning the 
 handle, looked in. It was as he had expected. The room 
 was still untidy, the fire unlit, and his limp mustache, 
 damped and dulled by the foggy atmosphere outside, hung 
 more limp than ever as he looked. He stood and con 
 sidered, listening to the cheerful sound that came from 
 the opposite room belonging to Peters. For Peters was
 
 166 MR PETERS 
 
 evidently unaffected by the fog, and was singing in a cheery 
 way that gave splendid evidence of an easy conscience, or a 
 good digestion, or of both. 
 
 Kivers looked around his own room again, and noted how 
 the fog had penetrated even there. He looked across the 
 passage at the opposite door, behind which the cheerful 
 voice boomed more loudly than ever, and at last stepped 
 into the corridor and rapped. 
 
 He had to knock twice before he got any answer, so oc 
 cupied was Peters in his own pursuits, but finally he was 
 heard. 
 
 " Enter ! " Peters answered, and Kivers, pushing the door 
 open, found himself at once in what, to him, seemed an 
 earthly paradise. A roaring fire flickered up the chimney, 
 a large oil-lamp was lit upon the table. The blinds were 
 down, the curtains were drawn. Upon the hob steamed a 
 kettle, and at Mr. Peters elbow stood a full cup of his own 
 particular coffee, while a spirit decanter was close handy. 
 Peters himself lounged in an easy-chair at the fireside, with 
 a low table before him, upon which he had put his coffee 
 and spread a pack of cards. He was in a loose bright dress 
 ing-gown, out of which rose his big black head. He smoked 
 a fat cigar, and was the very picture of one content with 
 himself and his surroundings, and at peace with all man 
 kind. 
 
 " Aha ! " he remarked, looking up with one hand upon 
 the cards, " the good Rivers ! How is it with the good 
 Rivers ? " He had adopted a free-and-easy style of ad 
 dressing that gentleman immediately after their first meet 
 ing, and not altogether with Rivers approval. The differ 
 ence between a sea-captain and an Oxford man did not seem 
 quite plain to Captain Peters, and the other at first tried to 
 make it clear to him by a frosty politeness. But, in the 
 first place, Peters took no notice, and secondly the manner 
 was very difficult to keep up, and might, Rivers thought,
 
 PATIENCE ! 167 
 
 interfere with certain little plans, with regard to this simple 
 mariner, which suggested themselves to him. So he now 
 merely smiled apologetically as he stood in the doorway, be 
 fore explaining his errand. 
 
 " I pictured you at church ! " Peters told him. " La, la, 
 la, la-a, La, la, la, la," and he rolled out a scrap of a Gre 
 gorian chant with fervor and great enjoyment to himself. 
 His big, plump, clean-shaven face, and close-cut black hair 
 might have belonged to a jolly monk. The music seemed 
 to catch his fancy, and the sonorous Latin of a full verse 
 echoed through the room, before he stopped. 
 
 " Bravo ! bravo ! " cried Rivers, applauding in the door 
 way. " Quite operatic, sir ! Latin, is it not ? Your for 
 eign accent puzzles an Oxford man." 
 
 " From one of the Psalms," explained Peters, lifting his 
 coffee to his lips as he spoke, and looking at Rivers over the 
 edge of the cup. " Enter, my good Rivers, and tell me 
 what I may do for you. Let not the fog come also." 
 
 So Rivers entered, closing the door carefully behind him, 
 and, crossing the room, took up a position on the hearth 
 rug, with his back to the delightful fire. What had he come 
 for ? The odor of coffee, with something in it, rising 
 under the man s nose, suggested to him what he might get, 
 even if he had not come for it. 
 
 " The fact is," he told Peters, sniffing gently, " the fog 
 outside is simply vile. It has got down my throat, always a 
 weak point with me." 
 
 " A weak point, is it ? " demanded Peters, with an up 
 ward glance at what was to be seen of the part in question. 
 " Ah, you should take great care of that, my good Rivers, 
 and of your neck. Do not forget your neck, that is most 
 important ! " 
 
 " Yes," Rivers agreed, "I daresay that is important. One 
 ought to wrap up more perhaps." 
 
 " You should certainly have something about your neck,"
 
 168 MR. PETERS 
 
 Peters declared, rising and looking more closely. " See, it 
 is all bare, exposed all about here ! " 
 
 He passed both hands about the neck in question as he 
 spoke, and closed them on it lingeringly, but took them 
 away directly Rivers put up a hand in protest. 
 
 " I was thinking," said the latter, shifting his head from 
 side to side, and clearing his throat experimentally, " that if 
 I took a little something hot before a cold got hold of me, 
 that might help to throw it off. But then you see it s Sun 
 day, and I ve nothing in my room. I don t keep anything 
 there. Foolish, perhaps, but a matter of principle." 
 
 " Ah," Peters told him, " you should never go against 
 your principles. But look you, I have no principles, and 
 so I can keep brandy for such weather. Drink, my Rivers, 
 and forget this so damnable climate." 
 
 " Now, this is really kind," Rivers declared; " you must 
 let me replace it to-morrow, you really must, under the cir 
 cumstances." 
 
 Peters bestirred himself hospitably. He got out a glass, 
 and, suggesting that Rivers might think whiskey better for 
 his weak point, produced some, together with sugar and a 
 lemon. Then Rivers mixed himself a glass a stiff one 
 and sat down in the opposite easy-chair to drink it, and to 
 watch, with some curiosity, Captain Peters little game at 
 cards, which began again directly that hospitable mariner 
 had supplied his wants. 
 
 The cards were, many of them, spread across the table, 
 face up. Some he held, and dealt slowly, sometimes putting 
 them among the exposed ones, sometimes adding them to a 
 little pile at his side. As he played he talked, inquiring 
 politely after Melia s health and other interesting matters. 
 But Rivers attention always wandered to the cards, and at 
 last he expressed his curiosity. 
 
 " I ve played a game or two in my time, when I was 
 young and foolish," he explained, " and among friends.
 
 PATIENCE ! 169 
 
 But I ll be hanged, Captain Peters, if I know what that 
 is!" 
 
 This open expression of ignorance, for some reason or an 
 other, tickled Peters imagination, not to all appearance 
 easily stirred, and shook him to fits of laughter. He first 
 showed his entertainment by deep chuckles, his black eyes 
 fixed intently upon his interested visitor. Gradually his 
 amusement grew until it was beyond his control, and he 
 rolled to and fro in the big easy-chair, as a storm-stricken 
 ship might roll in the trough of the sea, helpless under a 
 hurricane of laughter. 
 
 " Glad to amuse you ! " Eivers told him, glaring with his 
 
 haughtiest manner, " but I m d d if I see what s the 
 
 joke ! " 
 
 " That is better ! " gasped Peters, with his hand against 
 his side as though fearful of internal damage. " It is your 
 so strange language. What do you say ? You will be 
 hanged if you understand ? What a strange thing ! Would 
 one not rather say you might be hanged if you did not un 
 derstand ? Pardon ! but your so rich and humorous lan 
 guage, though at times I have talked it much, is always full 
 of surprises." 
 
 "Oh, that s all right," Eivers allowed; "if that s all, 
 don t let me spoil your joke." 
 
 " You shall not ! " Peters promised him gravely. " But 
 this game, that you say you will be hanged if you know, I 
 must teach it to you. It is Patience." 
 
 " I ve heard of it," Eivers allowed, " but it s a stupid sort 
 of game, I suppose. You don t mean to tell me you spend 
 your time playing it all by yourself ? " 
 
 " All by myself," echoed Captain Peters, dealing a card 
 as he spoke. 
 
 " Most confounded slow ! " Eivers suggested. " Don t 
 you find it so ? " 
 
 " Most confounded ! " echoed Peters, and dealt another 
 card.
 
 170 MR. PETERS 
 
 " What s the good of it all ? " asked Rivers, bending over 
 to see how the cards went. 
 
 " Ah ! what s the good ? " repeated Peters, as if these 
 questions had set him questioning himself. 
 
 " You can t put money on it ? " suggested the other. 
 
 " Not to win/ allowed Captain Peters. 
 
 " Long to learn ? " queried the other, satisfied with his 
 inspection and turning back to the fire again. 
 
 " Years," Captain Peters told him, and dealt out his last 
 card. 
 
 " Good heavens ! Well, have you won ? " 
 
 " No," said Captain Peters gravely, " I have lost." 
 
 " Then what the devil do you do ? " 
 
 " Shuffle the cards and play again," said the Captain, im~ 
 perturbably. " But not now, my good Rivers. There is 
 the gong, and in five minutes it will be dinner. I will 
 teach you this game some other day." 
 
 " I don t remember much of these things," Rivers told 
 him, picking up the pack and shuffling awkwardly, " but I 
 daresay I could remember a trick or two to show you some 
 time ! " 
 
 " I shall be most happy," said Captain Peters, who per 
 haps at the thought of a Sunday dinner had suddenly 
 grown much graver. " I am always pleased to learn," and 
 Rivers emptied his glass, and they went to the dining-room 
 together.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 MR. RIVERS ATTEMPTS SOME TRICKS 
 
 THE pleasing presence of Mrs. Jimps, black-silk-gowned 
 and sedately smiling at the head of the table, seemed to 
 have a cheering effect upon the company generally, on that 
 fog-wrapped Sunday. She, too^ like Mr. Peters, fought the 
 weather with drawn curtains and a blazing fire, and Kivers 
 felt his spirits rise still further as he looked. 
 
 Eivers, being one of the latest arrivals among the Paying 
 Guests, and giving promise of being more permanent than 
 many, was taken under Mrs. Jimps wing, and sat at her 
 right hand. Mr. Peters, in his recognized position as senior 
 resident, faced her, thus getting the full benefit of the 
 smiles which she frequently cast that way, for Mr. Peters, in 
 spite of, peril aps even partly because of, a quietly masterful 
 manner, still claimed Mrs. Jimps earnest consideration. 
 He seldom troubled about trifles. When disturbed, he pro 
 claimed the fact at once, openly and loudly, and having 
 carried his point, which, as a rule, he did quickly, the cause 
 of complaint seemed to vanish from his mind altogether, 
 and was heard of no more. Then, too, he was a tower of 
 strength in the house. If an uncongenial male strayed 
 temporarily into the place, as must sometimes happen in 
 the best-regulated Houses of Residence, Mr. Peters could be 
 reckoned upon to keep that male within bounds, or to make 
 him feel the necessity for a move. True, Mr. Peters him 
 self occasionally made use of a word or two of which Mrs. 
 Jimps could not approve. But, as she acknowledged to 
 herself when meditating over his virtues in her own little 
 sanctum, he used them in such a gentlemanly foreign way 
 that they really wouldn t frighten a child. In her softer
 
 172 MR. PETERS 
 
 moments, when the House of Residence was quiet for the 
 night, when all necessary notes had been made of things to 
 be done on the following day, when the boots of the Paying 
 Guests, reposing outside the bedroom doors, mutely told 
 her that their owners were safely settled until the morning, 
 when in fact the worker could give place to the woman, and 
 Head could yield to Heart, Mrs. Jimps had found herself 
 acknowledging coyly that Mr. Peters as a permanent resi 
 dent, paying or no, would not be unwelcome. His very 
 boots, well-made, strong, and not over small, were master 
 ful, every nail of them, and Mrs. Jimps, remembering " our 
 Annie s " last vagary, or some would-be too free-and-easy 
 Paying Guest, or the necessarily weak points of even the 
 bravest of women, would own, with shyness and a sigh as 
 she made her way to her own bed, that the House of Resi 
 dence needed a master. 
 
 All this, however, was locked beneath the ample black 
 silk, safe even from the gimlet eyes of " our Annie," and 
 Mr. Peters knew nought of it, but Rivers, with a veteran s 
 keen appreciation of a good base for operations, felt that his 
 lines lay in pleasant places, and endeavored to show his 
 feelings by what he thought his most winning and high- 
 toned manner. It even occurred to him, sitting there at 
 that Sunday dinner-table, that a man of his domestic tastes 
 might, if greater schemes failed, do wisely to fall a little (it 
 certainly, he believed, would be a fall), and drop softly, into 
 the lap of Mrs. Jimps. A quiet corner for himself in the 
 House of Residence, where those whom he so far honored 
 could share his quiet game at whist or something more ex 
 citing with modest refreshers, was not to be disdained. 
 So Rivers was complimentary, impressively complimentary 
 to Mrs. Jimps. "What place Melia took in this vision, if she 
 entered it at all, is not known. 
 
 " One would be glad/ he said, under cover of a general 
 conversation, " to relieve one s hostess of this trouble," and
 
 MR. RIVERS ATTEMPTS SOME TRICKS 173 
 
 he nodded at the sirloin upon which Mrs. Jimps was then 
 operating. 
 
 To be addressed as one s hostess was certainly pleasant. 
 It showed that some people, at least, recognized a difference 
 in such matters. It also showed manners, which maketh 
 man, and Mrs. Jimps, who had not yet classified Rivers, 
 marked him one up, and smiled appreciatively. 
 
 " So good of you ! " she told him. " Many people don t 
 seem to notice, Mr. Rivers. Would you mind tilting the 
 dish a little ? then I can give you some gravy. It s always 
 best from the dish, don t you think ? " 
 
 " Little home comforts and female society are so pleas 
 ant to a rough wanderer," said Rivers, sorry nevertheless 
 that Mrs. Jimps had asked him to tilt the dish, since it ex 
 posed to view his hand still ingrained with oil and coal-dust. 
 
 " Dear me, I m always so glad if we can make our visitors 
 comfortable," said Mrs. Jimps, beckoning Annie to bring 
 the vegetables that way. " Didn t I hear you say the other 
 night that you were a widower, Mr. Rivers ? " 
 
 " A lonely man, ma am," Rivers told her; " widowed and 
 homeless. What is the use of a home with no one to share 
 it?" 
 
 " Very true," said Mrs. Jimps sympathetically, and the 
 sentiment chimed in so far with occasional thoughts of her 
 own, that she couldn t help casting a little glance down the 
 table at Peters, who was making an excellent meal, as was 
 his habit. 
 
 " And no family, I think, Mr. Rivers ? " she asked, with 
 drawing her eyes quickly, and somewhat disconcerting that 
 gentleman by her question. If he had been quite sure that 
 there would be no danger in repudiating Melia, I fear that 
 he would have added a childless condition to his other sor 
 rows, but although it was agreed between Peters and him 
 self that Melia s existence was not to be mentioned, yet 
 some day she might turn up.
 
 174 MR. PETERS 
 
 " One daughter/ he acknowledged,, " of whom, however, 
 I do not see very much. The young birds quit the paren 
 tal nest, Mrs. Jimps, when they think their wings strong 
 enough to let them see the world, and make nests of their 
 own " which little admission, accompanied by a sorrowful 
 smile and a shrug, somehow gave Mrs. Jiinps the impression 
 of a fond father heartlessly deserted by his only child, and 
 bearing his loss in sorrowful but dignified silence. 
 
 " Young people go their own way nowadays," she ad 
 mitted. " The world is not what it was when I was young, 
 Mr. Rivers," to which Rivers, after a respectful glance, in 
 sisted that it could scarcely have had time to change since 
 that date. 
 
 Mrs. Jimps colored just the least little bit, protesting, but 
 wondering at the same time whether Mr. Peters had the 
 same impression, and, feeling grateful to Rivers for suggest 
 ing it, helped him liberally to more gravy from the dish, 
 when his plate came to her again. Her thoughts turned 
 more or less to these matters all through the meal, though 
 she superintended as keenly as ever, and let Annie see by a 
 glance that she had found a plate not so bright as it should 
 be, and did not fail to notice how the last new-comer al 
 lowed something to drop on the clean, glossy, white table 
 cloth. Before dinner was over she decided that she really 
 must know how Mr. Peters business was progressing, and 
 she made up her mind to ask him to-morrow, while consult 
 ing him about something else. The politeness with which 
 she listened to Rivers tales of his old college days, after 
 making up her mind upon this point, gave that sanguine 
 gentleman an utterly false idea of the interest she took in 
 him, and when he entered Peters comfortable quarters 
 again, which he did directly after dinner, he even decided 
 that Peters room would suit him best when the time should 
 come for him to make a choice. 
 
 Peters this time had invited a visit. Not pressingly, but
 
 MR. RIVERS ATTEMPTS SOME TRICKS 175 
 
 suggesting that, if the other fire had not got up properly, 
 his room might be the more comfortable. Rivers, whose 
 mustache drooped less limply, and whose whole appear 
 ance was considerably brighter than when he had left 
 Melia, went into his own room as a matter of form for a 
 few minutes, and found a very cheerful blaze there. But 
 there was no whiskey, and there were no cards, so, banking 
 the fire up carefully with cinders, he knocked at Peters 
 door, and announced his own room as unendurable. 
 
 " Then," said Peters hospitably, " come, and I will teach 
 you Patience ! " and they set to work, with a little more 
 spirits for his visitor, about whose sensitive throat the fog 
 was still hanging. 
 
 Rivers watched politely through a game, bracing himself 
 to the task with frequent sips, but was not enthusiastic. 
 
 " You see," he explained, " I like a social game or 
 did when I played cards. Now, a game like Patience 
 doesn t interest me at least, not much. There s nothing 
 in it." 
 
 " That is because you do not understand," Peters told 
 him, chuckling softly and good-naturedly. " But teach me 
 something, my good Rivers," and so Rivers tried to teach 
 him something. 
 
 He attempted one or two card tricks, but, as he sorrow 
 fully admitted, if he ever had known the way to manage the 
 cards, he seemed to have forgotten. Peters could always 
 tell, laughing hugely, and apparently much interested, what 
 had become of the knave of spades or whatever card Rivers 
 tried to hide. When, too, there was a dispute as to what 
 card would turn up first in the pack, things never came as 
 Rivers said they would, which was most annoying, and 
 amused his host tremendously. 
 
 At last Peters suggested poker for a change, but his vis 
 itor needed a good deal of persuasion. 
 
 " I have played," he admitted, "but long ago. Really,
 
 176 MR. PETERS 
 
 now, I don t know if I could tell poker from euchre or 
 are they the same ? " 
 
 " We will attempt ! " said Peters, shuffling the pack; " it 
 shall not be expensive." 
 
 " Make it counters ! " suggested his visitor, at which 
 Peters roared again, and wouldn t hear of such a thing. 
 
 So Rivers, protesting that he didn t want another man s 
 money, especially a friend s, if Peters would allow him to say 
 so, was beguiled into a game for a small stake. At first 
 Rivers won, and then he played a little longer to let his host 
 win his money back, and Rivers won more, which made 
 Peters insist upon continuing the game. So they played 
 on until the tea-bell rang, and Rivers got up some few shil 
 lings to the good. 
 
 Really," he protested most politely, " to come to a 
 friend s room, and drink his whiskey, and take his money, 
 really it s 
 
 " A what-you-call swindle, is it not ? " asked Peters, un 
 moved by his losses and slapping his guest upon the shoul 
 der as he spoke. " Tea ! my good Rivers, and revenge an 
 other time." 
 
 " Oh, after tea if you really wish it," Rivers told him, 
 " though the cards seem against you to-night, don t they ? " 
 
 " Yes," Peters agreed that the cards seemed against him 
 that night. " Another time," he decided, " I will have my 
 revenge." 
 
 " You play a very good game," Rivers allowed, " though 
 I didn t always understand your reasons for playing the 
 card you did." 
 
 " I am a devil at cards," Peters asserted, with the air of a 
 man who has unlimited confidence in himself, " but one 
 cannot always explain what makes one play this card or 
 that one," and they went off for their tea, dispensed on 
 Sunday evenings by Mrs. Jimps in the drawing-room, where 
 one is not so likely to make a hearty meal as if one sat down
 
 MR. RIVERS ATTEMPTS SOME TRICKS 177 
 
 at the dining-room table. Much food being quite unneces 
 sary at five on a Sunday afternoon, when dinner was at one, 
 it was on the whole very thoughtful of Mrs. Jimps to keep 
 temptation from those who, having nothing else to do, 
 might otherwise have possibly eaten more than was good for 
 them. 
 
 After tea it seemed unlikely that the two friends would 
 meet again that evening, but they were fated to do so. 
 Eivers grew restless in his own room, having been perhaps 
 a little excited by play. After walking up and down from 
 one end of the room to the other, he at last made up his 
 mind to go out, and his feet wandered to Drumsheugh Gar 
 dens. He was looking at the windows of No. 45, when a 
 hand, softly laid upon his shoulder, startled him. Twist 
 ing round with an oath on his lips, he found himself faced 
 by Mr. Peters, who loomed huge in the fog. 
 
 " Ah ! my good Eivers," said that benevolent gentleman, 
 " this will not do. What of your throat in this night-air ? 
 Is your neck well protected, my good Eivers ? You are 
 rash, are you not ? " and he was so politely concerned about 
 his friend s health, that he insisted upon escorting him 
 home, and talked to an unusual extent, and most entertain 
 ingly, all the way. 
 
 12
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 HALF-CONFIDENCES 
 
 WHILE Elvers peered through the fog at the outside of 
 No. 45, its owner, inside, sat restless and melancholy. New 
 books lay at his elbow, but he could not fix his mind on any 
 one of them. A large fire blazed before him in a big tiled 
 grate, but the man was chilled and cheerless, and thought, 
 perforce, of things which he would rather have forgotten. 
 
 Strange, foolish, absurd, it was for him to let his memory 
 dwell upon the horror of a single night, blotted out, as it 
 might have been, by the days, the darkness, and the dreams 
 of twenty-five years ; but he was powerless to prevent it. 
 The man was physically weak, with a weakness that, when 
 he had nothing of powerful and gripping interest immedi 
 ately before him, set his mind veering like a weather-cock 
 before the contrary winds of fancy and suggestion. At the 
 Parliament House he was still the Just Judge, dry, melan 
 choly, unmoved, save against any attempt on the part of 
 counsel to make words fill the place of arguments. At home 
 he was a silent, melancholy figure ; silent because he found 
 himself curiously apt to speak harshly and irritably on small 
 provocation ; melancholy because of that, and because of 
 the hidden thoughts made more bitter than ever by the let 
 ter which, at this moment, he held smoothed out before him. 
 
 Who, that had met him twenty-five years ago, could re 
 member and wish to meet him again ? Whom could he wish 
 to see ? 
 
 The unsigned, typewritten sheet was threatening in every 
 line, and yet what could he do but wait until the writer 
 followed the letter ?
 
 HALF-CONFIDENCES 179 
 
 " Let him follow it to hell ! " Lord Inch thought, in a 
 sudden gust of passion, crumpling the thing to a ball, and 
 throwing it on the fire. Then he snatched it away again, 
 and crushed out the flame that had begun to lick over the 
 edges, and he had it again smoothed out before him when 
 the door opened and Maitland was shown in. 
 
 The latter saw this scorched single sheet of paper directly 
 he set foot in the room, and saw, too, the hurried way in 
 which it was folded and put back into a pocket, but he said 
 nothing of it. He spent the first few minutes in saying 
 what he thought of the weather, and, from that, naturally 
 turned to ask how it suited his patient. 
 
 " I don t notice it," Lord Inch told him listlessly ; 
 " there s a fog, isn t there ? " 
 
 " Ay, there is," Maitland answered, drawing his chair 
 nearer to the blaze, and bending over it with outstretched 
 hands. 
 
 " The Cockneys may say what they will of their fogs," he 
 added, " and I ve heard them boast as though a fog was an 
 Englishman s glory, but, man, I d like to set them in the 
 Meadows to-night, and bid them find a way here. But it s 
 not worrying you ? " 
 
 " No," Lord Inch told him, " I saw it was bad this morn 
 ing about church time, and thought I wouldn t go. I ve not 
 looked out since." 
 
 " Had dinner all right, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Eh, what ? No that is, yes, I believe. Yes, of course." 
 
 Maitland saw, and indeed could not help seeing, the un 
 certainty with which the man answered, but he went on 
 without seeming to pay any attention. 
 
 " I came in to tell you what Mackenzie said to me, after 
 he saw you with me the other night," he told his patient, 
 shifting about a little from the fire, and facing Lord Inch. 
 
 " Yes ; what does he think ? " asked the other, still to 
 all appearance concerned chiefly about something else.
 
 180 MR. PETERS 
 
 " What he thinks and what he says happen to be the same, 
 with Mackenzie," Maitland replied, with a grim little smile, 
 as if it might not be always so with all. But the smile died 
 away as he watched the bent figure in the opposite chair, 
 staring into the fire, and he laid a finger on the judge s arm. 
 
 " You ve got to take a little holiday," he said, " just to put 
 things right again, and get out of our hands quickly." 
 
 " Nonsense, man ! " returned the other, frowning peev 
 ishly at him ; " you can patch me up between you surely. 
 I ll take anything you like to order." 
 
 " Ay, I know that well enough," retorted Maitland, not 
 unkindly. " It surprises me, even yet, to see what some of 
 you will take. But it s rest you want above all. Rest for 
 body and mind, and you must have it." He may have laid 
 stress on the word " mind," or the judge himself may have 
 supplied it. 
 
 " How do you know that I should have rest by stopping 
 work ? How do you know but what I get most rest when 
 I m working my hardest ? " 
 
 Lord Inch looked from the fire at last, and stared at Mait 
 land as he said this, and Maitland stared back at him before 
 answering. 
 
 " I don t know, Inch," he said at last. " How should I ? 
 I m too old to make believe that I can read men like books, 
 and God forbid that I should be able. Twould be no 
 pleasure. Most men have their troubles that drugs can t 
 touch, and the knife can t relieve. Then the medical man 
 goes, and the old friend may take his place." 
 
 " You were always a good fellow," the judge told him, 
 staring at the fire again, but the doctor shrugged his shoul 
 ders, and, getting up from his chair, strolled across to the 
 bookcase. 
 
 " You ve a book here that I m going to borrow," he said. 
 " See, I m putting my card in its place. What was I say 
 ing ? I remember. Well, you know, folk come to me with
 
 HALF-CONFIDENCES 181 
 
 all sorts of tales. Usually what they have to tell isn t half 
 so bad as they think. But it eases their minds tremend 
 ously, whether the story is worth telling or no. So, if there s 
 anything unsettling you, that you won t talk of to your 
 clerk and care to chat about with me, let me hear it some 
 day. It might help to pull you round quicker, though, 
 mind you, I don t know that, of course. I wonder if it s as 
 bad as ever outside." 
 
 He went across to one of the two windows as he spoke, 
 and lifted a lathe of the Venetian blind. Looking down into 
 the night, for they were on the first floor, he became quiet, 
 and stayed with his eyes fixed upon the space he had made, 
 while his friend answered from behind him. 
 
 " You re a good fellow, Maitland. Yes, I ve got my wor 
 ries that medicine can t touch like most other men, as you 
 say. I ll have a chat with you some time perhaps." 
 
 Maitland s attention seemed divided for the moment be 
 tween Lord Inch and the window. He didn t answer at 
 once. Then he held the blind apart, while he turned and 
 spoke. 
 
 " I will admit," he allowed, with the air of one who was 
 making generous admissions, " that a wife may be useful 
 that way. They do say that all women are chatterboxes by 
 instinct, but that s unfair. They can keep their own secrets, 
 or their husbands , which is the same thing. It s only other 
 people s business that they must blab to all the world. A 
 wife is useful, maybe, at times." Having made this state 
 ment, he returned to his loop-hole of observation. 
 
 The man was not so garrulous as he seemed. He had seen 
 the judge four or five times since that first interview in his 
 consulting-room, and the impression had grown upon him 
 that, at the back of the very serious and probably incura 
 ble disease, which was evident, his patient had some other 
 trouble, possibly curable, that made matters very much 
 worse.
 
 182 MR. PETERS 
 
 Now that Lord Inch seemed a little more inclined to talk, 
 Maitland s one object was to keep the conversation going, 
 until the man had gained confidence and made up his mind 
 to say more. For a certain amount of indecision was, in his 
 opinion, due to the ill-health. Now, too, he began to get 
 interested in what was going on outside, just below the 
 window. 
 
 At his speech on the possible use of a wife, the judge 
 laughed a little and dryly and then made a rush at the 
 subject. 
 
 " The fact is," he said, " I believe I m being threatened, 
 but I don t know." 
 
 " Ah ! A disappointed litigant ? " asked Maitland, still 
 looking out upon the night. 
 
 " No, no, I pay no attention to that sort of thing," said 
 Lord Inch impatiently. " I never did." 
 
 " Ah ! " returned Maitland, and said no more for the 
 moment, having all his attention directed to something 
 else. 
 
 For, as he came along the street, on his way to this house, 
 he had pushed against someone in the thickest fog, midway 
 between two lamps, and both he and the other figure had 
 apologized. Then, for some reason or another, perhaps con 
 nected with the damsel at No. 4fi, Morris, the footman, had 
 not hurried to answer Maitland s pull at the bell, and, while 
 Maitland waited, a figure strolled slowly past, following in 
 his footsteps, and looked up at the door in going by. Mait 
 land had his glasses on, and, standing with his back to the 
 door, had looked down upon a man s face, on which a big 
 black mustache hung limp. Then the door had been 
 opened by the apologetic Morris, and Maitland thought no 
 more of it until he went to the window. There he saw that 
 a figure stood, beneath the nearest light, looking at the 
 house, and, while Lord Inch talked, Maitland watched that 
 figure and wondered what it did there.
 
 HALF-CONFIDENCES 183 
 
 It was a man, but he stood too much under the lamp for 
 Maitland to see the face. 
 
 " Threatened ? " he repeated, and lost the vague reply 
 that Lord Inch made, for at that moment another figure 
 came within the hazy blur of light. 
 
 It was a bigger form than the first, and loomed huge 
 through the fog. It stood behind the other, and, to Mait- 
 land s mind, had a watchful, threatening aspect. 
 
 If it had sprung upon the first he would not have been 
 surprised. lie saw it draw quickly closer, and he saw a 
 hand raised. Then, before he could make up his mind to 
 run the risk of startling Lord Inch by a shout, the hand 
 came down but only upon the other s shoulder. 
 
 Maitland quietly drew a long breath of relief, and, watch 
 ing, seemed to see that the first man was as much startled 
 as he himself had been. The fellow jumped and turned 
 quickly. In doing so he came directly into the light, which 
 fell upon his upturned face, and Maitland recognized the 
 man whom he had seen from the doorstep. 
 
 The two figures stood together a moment, then turned 
 away together, the bigger man, whose face had not been 
 seen, affectionately clutching the other s arm. 
 
 Then Maitland, half-conscious that the judge was still 
 talking, forced his attention back from those two shadowy 
 forms, already swallowed up and buried in the thick mist. 
 
 Lord Inch was just finishing a sentence. 
 
 " and I may say, Maitland, that I have this evening 
 
 had a stronger feeling than ever that there is mischief 
 afoot." 
 
 . Maitland hummed, and, coming back to the fire, took up 
 his favorite attitude with an elbow on the mantel-piece. 
 Standing there and looking down upon the judge, who still 
 sat peering at the fire, he thought again of those two figures 
 disappearing together. Yes, there might conceivably be 
 mischief afoot.
 
 184 MR. PETERS 
 
 But what had Inch said while he was watching them ? 
 
 " I want to be quite certain that I heard you correctly," 
 he explained. " You think you re being threatened, but 
 you are not sure, and you know it has nothing to do with 
 any Parliament House business ? " 
 
 " Quite so ! " Lord Inch allowed that. " As I said, if I m 
 not mistaken, and indeed if it is anything at all, the thing 
 must have its origin in my transatlantic days. Look at 
 that ! " 
 
 He thrust a hand into the breast pocket of his coat, and 
 drew out the paper, which Maitland recognized at once and 
 read carefully, while Lord Inch sat and watched him. 
 
 " Well," he said, composed!} 7 , folding the thing and hand 
 ing it back. " Some old friend." 
 
 " Man, man ! " said Inch almost fiercely. " Is that the 
 way a friend writes ? No name ! No address ! " 
 
 The question was only fair, and Maitland felt embar 
 rassed. 
 
 " Who else could it be ? " he asked. " You were there, 
 I ve heard you say, not much more than a twelvemonth, 
 and twenty-five years ago. You had no time to make 
 enemies." 
 
 " Are friends made quicker ? " almost snarled the other, 
 and Maitland felt himself worsted again. 
 
 " How long does it take to make an enemy ? " Inch 
 muttered, and then fell into a gloomy fit of silence, that 
 Maitland found he must break if anything more was to 
 come of their conversation. 
 
 " You ve told me too much or too little," he decided at 
 last. " This has not been enough to help you, Inch, but it 
 suffices to trouble me. Can you say nothing more ? " 
 
 But the other, looking up gloomily, shook his head. 
 
 " Remember," Maitland urged, " I have not pressed this 
 upon you. But now I may do you a serious wrong, if you 
 leave me to imagine what I will, as the cause of this trouble."
 
 HALF-CONFIDENCES 185 
 
 " It s of the young fellow of twenty-five that you must 
 imagine what you will, then," returned the other harshly, 
 " not of me." 
 
 " Ay, Hector, but he was my friend too ! " pleaded Mait- 
 land. " A good fellow he was, too, though a bit hard on 
 those who didn t live as he did. Come, man ! Me or an 
 other, it s little I care. But you must let another share your 
 secret and the weight of it ! " 
 
 Lord Inch, however, would not be persuaded that night, 
 and Maitland could see it in his face. 
 
 " Another time, Maitland, another time," he said rising. 
 " Think what you must, meanwhile. Maybe this fellow is, 
 as you say, some old friend that I ve forgotten." 
 
 " If it isn t, will you tell me ? " asked Maitland. " Me 
 or another ? " 
 
 " You and none other," said Inch. " There s my hand 
 on it." And with that Maitland had to be content. 
 
 " If your correspondent means mischief," he said, as he 
 shook hands, " it s a promise that I m to know as soon as 
 you do." 
 
 " It s a promise," Inch repeated. " Twenty-five years 
 ago, Maitland, and I was only twenty-five ! " 
 
 Then Maitland went away down the street, growling and 
 muttering to himself as he went, and peering right and left 
 in the hope of again coming upon either of those two un 
 canny figures. 
 
 " I sometimes believe I m a havering old idiot," he told 
 himself as he searched for his latch-key, " but there ! If I 
 was one of those sharp chaps, maybe folk wouldn t tell me 
 as much as they do. We re getting to the bottom of it all 
 now, I think. He ll send for me if he s threatened. Ay, 
 ay ! it s thirty years ago that he and I got capped together 
 in Arts," and Maitland, too restless to think of bed, smoked, 
 solitary, until far on into the night,
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 A SUPERIOR PERSON 
 
 ON this highway of life, while some hurry along, eager for 
 they scarcely know what, and busy, they hardly know why, 
 others listen, and, looking cynically at their fellows and 
 feeling vastly superior, don t do very much themselves. 
 
 By being fully convinced of one s own superiority, one 
 can force some others to believe it. Not many maybe, but 
 still some. Also, the Superior Person cannot be understood 
 by the Inferior. Hence a splendid isolation, and the feeling 
 that one is misunderstood, which is a great comfort. 
 
 Notwithstanding this comfort, one seeks the sympathy of 
 other superior minds, and recognizes them by the fact that 
 they at once see one s own superiority. They had better 
 also proclaim it, and the louder the better. 
 
 The bother is that some of the less perfectly balanced 
 among us, possibly the less pig-headedly self-satisfied, de 
 velop a craving for this recognition, turn aside into by-paths 
 where they think to get it, and go far. Also, where it is not 
 granted in large doses, they are hurt immeasurably, and 
 curious as to the cause of this blindness. This was the case 
 with Madge Murray. She had been spoilt as a child, with 
 the result that now, as a woman, she had a slightly disguised 
 contempt for the people who had spoiled her. With those 
 people we have nothing to do. Madge had her own friends, 
 or, more accurately, her acquaintances, her own pursuits, 
 and went her own ways. After all, there is not much that 
 can be done to thwart a woman of twenty-eight or so, es 
 pecially if she has a small independent income. So Madge 
 had found out, long ago, that so long as she made a regular
 
 A SUPERIOR PERSON 187 
 
 appearance at meals, or foretold her non-appearance and 
 came home at reasonable hours of night, there was nothing 
 much said. Her father, above all things, hated " a row," 
 especially as experience told him that victory therein always 
 went the one way. She had taken up Nell Moriarty through 
 the merest whim, and now, finding Nell unprepared to 
 recognize her perfection, was ready soon to let the acquaint 
 anceship die out. Interesting people were uncommon, she 
 decided, at the Moriartys house. Tom was only a student, 
 and not at all bright, so she told herself after finding that 
 he was openly devoted to Nell. Donald Dee, the advocate, 
 was amusing because he paid such broad compliments, and 
 Madge was getting to like them broad. But then he was far 
 beyond middle age, a confirmed bachelor, and very selfish 
 this last being a vice which Madge abominated in others. 
 Then Peters came on the scene, and Madge s interest in the 
 Moriartys grew a little warmer. 
 
 The first night that they met, she had thought him rather 
 a dull fool. He said nothing witty; in fact, he did not seem 
 anxious to talk at all. If this had been shyness it might 
 have shown discrimination for Madge considered she was 
 brilliant that night. But it wasn t shyness, and Madge had 
 no reason, on considering the matter afterwards, for believ 
 ing that Peters was at all overpowered by her charms. 
 
 Then came the meeting at Leith Harbor, whence she 
 went in a rage that served to keep the imperturbable Peters 
 in her mind. His indifference was a silent challenge which 
 should certainly be accepted. Hence her flaming appear 
 ance on the Moriartys doorstep, and her interest in the 
 Parliament House, which she had often visited before. 
 Here again Peters had baffled her, by simple indifference, 
 and she thought with na ive astonishment of the way in 
 which he had let pass, quite unnoticed, her suggestion con 
 cerning tea afterwards. 
 
 It was on the morning after the Sunday s fog, which had
 
 188 MR. PETERS 
 
 ended at night with a sharp touch of frost, that Madge 
 turned these matters over again in her mind as she went 
 from one shop to another in Princes Street, and she was 
 thinking of the almost expressionless profile that had irri 
 tated her while waiting for a turn at the little bull s-eye of 
 glass behind the Court that afternoon, when the man him 
 self suddenly passed her, moving more quickly than she, in 
 the same direction. He bowed, and was passing on, when 
 Madge held out a hand. 
 
 " We lost you in the Parliament House the other day," 
 she told him. " How was that ? " and Peters shrugged his 
 shoulders apologetically. 
 
 " \ stupid foreigner," he said, " in a strange place." 
 
 " I think you were tired of us," Madge insisted. " Very 
 natural, perhaps but very rude to show it. Come now, be 
 polite for a few minutes to make up for it, as we are going 
 the same way," and Peters silently marched at her side. 
 
 He was an aggravating man, Madge felt. An un-get-at- 
 able man. What was he thinking about ? Did he think at 
 all, or was the enormous solemnity of this handsome face 
 merely the result of unmitigated boorishness and stupidity ? 
 She chattered on at a pace most imusual to her, for, as a 
 rule, she liked the part of supercilious critic ; but she got 
 merely the replies that ordinary courtesy demanded, and at 
 last stopped talking, to see whether silence would have a 
 better effect. 
 
 It had the effect of making Peters halt, and raise his hat. 
 
 " I go to a shop this way," he explained, but Madge was 
 not so easily daunted. 
 
 " So do I" she told him, " so we may as well walk to 
 gether a little farther," and they went together up Fred 
 erick Street, and presently turned down the way that we 
 have so often been before. 
 
 Madge, talking a little for the sake of appearances, had 
 just noticed that, on the opposite side of the street, beside a
 
 A SUPERIOR PERSON 189 
 
 bland wooden Highlander, a red-haired girl stood looking 
 this way and that, when the girl suddenly began to nod and 
 smile across in their direction. While Madge stared Peters 
 turned and bowed. " I go this way," he told her, and, 
 straightway crossing the street, was hailed by the red-haired 
 girl as " Cap n Peters." Madge moving slowly on, with a 
 side glance at the two, saw them go into the shop, a tobac 
 conist s, together, and, if her astonished ears did not play 
 her false, the girl asked Peters who his swell friend was, as 
 they went in. 
 
 " A vulgar fellow ! " was Madge s verdict, and she passed 
 on, greatly annoyed, but, if anything, more curious about 
 Peters than ever. 
 
 Peters, following Melia into the shop, chose a cigar and 
 lighted it, payment, as usual, having been scrupulously ex 
 acted by Melia. 
 
 " Your father is not here ? " he asked, looking round. 
 
 " No," said Melia, and did not offer any further infor 
 mation about that gentleman. 
 
 " You have not seen him since yesterday morning ? " 
 
 " No," said Melia again, shortly, and, turning, began to 
 rearrange the boxes which stood in the glass case behind her. 
 
 She stood like this long enough for Peters, who was 
 watching her curiously, to notice that there was a great 
 change in Melia s hair. It was certainly redder, and a very 
 pretty red, too. He said as much, solemnly, and Melia s 
 cheeks, as she turned to him, matched it. 
 
 " I m gittin over my last attack of influenzy," she told 
 him, and Peters congratulated her on a recovery from this 
 illness, of which he had not heard before. 
 
 Suddenly Melia was frightened. 
 
 " You re not come to tell me Pa s ill ? " she demanded, 
 and was relieved* at Peters unsympathetic laughter. 
 
 " The good Rivers ! " he ejaculated ; " I have not seen 
 him to-day, but he will be well."
 
 190 MR. PETERS 
 
 " I was lookin for him when you came," Mclia explained. 
 " I ve got used to his turning in to see me of a morning. 
 Pa s father, I mean, is very good that way. It struck me, 
 sudden, that you d come to tell me something." 
 
 But Peters declared he had no bad news, and moved 
 to the door that he might see if her father was near. 
 
 " I came because of that woman who was with me," he 
 told Melia, tapping her friend " Sandy " on the head, as he 
 spoke, to test his solidity. 
 
 " For shame, Cap n Peters," said Melia ; " she s a perfect 
 picture." 
 
 " I do not care for pictures, when they must always talk," 
 Peters told her. " See, here comes the good Eivers." 
 
 It was certainly Rivers coming down the street, with a 
 small parcel in one hand, and in the other a cane, which he 
 twirled with a jaunty air. On waking that morning, he had 
 been so pleased to think of the friendly and familiar rela 
 tions which he was establishing with Peters, that he thought 
 kindly of Melia, and resolved to bring a peace-offering 
 paid for, so it happened, out of his last night s winnings. 
 
 He came in now, with a friendly nod to Peters, and giv 
 ing a kiss to Melia, who greeted him carefully as " Father," 
 he put down the parcel, and, with an air of gay mystery, 
 told her to guess what was in it. 
 
 " Me ! " said Melia. " What for, pa ? I mean, father ; " 
 but Rivers continuing to nod and smile graciously, she 
 picked it up, and first felt it all over, then smelt it. 
 
 " Who s it for ? " she asked, suspiciously, at last, looking 
 up at the benignant Rivers. 
 
 " A young lady I know," he told her. " Open it." 
 
 So Melia opened it, and a pair of cycling shoes dropped 
 out, much to her delight. 
 
 " For me ? " she screamed, clutching at them. " Oh, pa ! 
 - father I mean, you re too good." 
 
 This was said with a fervor which was perfectly sincere.
 
 A SUPERIOR PERSON 191 
 
 and which pleased Rivers uncommonly. After all, perhaps, 
 kindness and gratitude are relative terms. A wife who is 
 kicked six nights a week by her lord and master may think 
 him kind, and will almost certainly be grateful, if he leave 
 her unkicked on the seventh. Melia, who had been left to 
 her own devices for so long, and who owed nothing to her 
 father s care, was quite unbalanced by this unprecedented 
 behavior, and her extravagant gratitude caused such a glow 
 ing sense of self-denial and generosity in her father s breast, 
 that he promised himself to renew it, if Peters continued to 
 be as much of a fool at cards as he had been hitherto. 
 
 It was enough to make one wonder whether, after all, 
 consistent kindness gains more gratitude in the end than a 
 tolerable amount of neglect, varied by an occasional sur 
 prise. Speculation might go farther, and ask whether the 
 first gives more happiness than the second. But Rivers did 
 not carry his considerations so far, and what Peters thought 
 about, as he puffed his cigar on the red settee where he was 
 resting, no one knew. 
 
 " Xow, I wonder," said Melia, looking out at the frosty 
 street, " when I shall use em ! " 
 
 She dived behind the curtain, and reappeared with the 
 shoes on. A cheap pair, white, high-heeled, and a trifle 
 tight across the toes. But they were lovely, so Melia de 
 clared, with a private resolve to get them stretched, and she 
 ached to use them, almost as much as she would certainly 
 ache after she had done so. 
 
 Neither of the two men answered her immediately. Her 
 father had no intention to make her any more presents 
 just now, and Peters made no move until Melia looked at 
 him appealingly. 
 
 " If you like," he told her at last, " you can have the same 
 again, and my want of exercise is great." 
 
 " There ! d you hear that, pa ? father, I mean. Cap n 
 Peters 11 take me out again. Ain t he kind ? "
 
 192 MR. PETERS 
 
 " H m ! ha ! yes," Rivers began, ready for Melia to have 
 a pleasure that didn t cost him anything, and ready also to 
 keep her on the friendliest terms with Peters, but trying, in 
 a vague, groping way, to decide whether this would seem to 
 be the correct thing. 
 
 " You ll come down and see me, pa father ? " said 
 Melia, and, feeling that that was enough, Eivers graciously 
 gave his permission, which, strictly speaking, hadn t been 
 asked. He said that he must superintend his little girl s 
 progress, but, of course, he never went. Melia did, how 
 ever, regularly through the next week, always turning up 
 at an hour which was too dark to do anything, and always 
 pegging away until she had to scurry for the shop. After 
 eight days of it, in short snatches, she went alone, gasping 
 and with great joy. Then the mornings were too dark to do 
 anything before shoptime, but Melia could ride, and man 
 aged on one or two fine Sundays to secretly get away alone, 
 and to plod on in a way that proved her independence.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 MELIA RECEIVES VISITORS 
 
 THROUGH all these exciting times Melia had often 
 thought of Archie Inch., and wondered why he never came 
 near the little tobacconist s shop. She took an interest in 
 him which, at that time, was almost motherly, for she was 
 only a year younger than he, and that meant that in ex 
 perience she was a great deal older. Archie, who used to 
 chatter freely as he leant over the counter, had told her long 
 ago that his mother was dead, and Melia, who knew very 
 well that in losing hers she had lost her best friend, pitied 
 Master Archie far more than he pitied himself. 
 
 He, on his side, was thinking a great deal about Melia. 
 At first he stayed away because he was vexed with her, and 
 meant, as he said to himself, to bring her down a peg. But 
 reflection told him that he was far more likely to come down 
 than she was, and he respected her the more for the very 
 independent manner which she showed even to the rous 
 ing of his temper whenever he was inclined to patronize. 
 
 So he very soon made up his mind to look in, and to make 
 friends, which he knew would be an easy matter. For Melia 
 bore no malice, and was as free and frank in her forgiveness 
 as she was in her wrath. But still he did not go. For one 
 thing he was working for his Arts degree, and even the Arts 
 students of Edinburgh have to work sometimes. 
 
 For another thing, the young fellow had been very much 
 sobered by a chat with Maitland, who, meeting him in 
 Drumsheugh Gardens one day, had invited him in, and 
 talked gravely of Lord Inch s condition. 
 
 Maitland had no particular liking for Archie. He had 
 
 13
 
 194 MR. PETERS 
 
 some prejudice against him, in fact, because of Archie s 
 resemblance to his dead mother, who, so Maitland believed, 
 had kept two old friends apart. 
 
 But Maitland had to acknowledge to himself that Archie 
 took the news like a man. 
 
 " You understand, my boy," he told him, " all I say is 
 that your father is not so strong as he was, or as he should 
 be, and I think you ve a right to know it. He may do very 
 well for a time, and after the New Year he promises us he ll 
 take a rest. But meanwhile you ve got to be very careful 
 of him." 
 
 " What can I do ? " Archie asked, naturally enough, and 
 Maitland wished he could tell him of the letter. This, how 
 ever, could not be, and Maitland knitted his brows, rubbing 
 the side of his nose reflectively, and wondering how far he 
 could go. 
 
 " Well," he said at last, " I mind, when I was a youngster, 
 I always wanted to have a hand in all that was going, and I 
 daresay folk thought me a wild loon at times. Keep yourself 
 well in hand, Archie, and avoid the appearance of evil just 
 now, of all times, for your father s sake. If someone came 
 along and told him you were in bad company and there s 
 plenty will say a thing like that for little enough or if you 
 chanced, by ill-luck, to be heard of at the Police Court for 
 any bit row (I was there myself once, for there are times 
 when a fellow s hand must guard his head), why, anything 
 like that, coming upon him unawares, might just fell him 
 as a bullock is felled in the slaughter-house yonder. More 
 than that," he went on, with a band on Archie s shoulder, 
 " a man in your father s position has enemies always. Let 
 him see, Archie, my man, that if he s got trouble abroad, 
 there s peace at home." 
 
 " Who are they ? " Archie had asked, curiously. 
 
 I don t know, but it s always so. A man s never up, 
 but you may be sure some one wants him down. It s the
 
 MELIA RECEIVES VISITORS 195 
 
 way of the world, man, and the penalty of getting up in it. 
 Say nothing to him of all this, for you ll do no good, and 
 maybe vex him, but just see that nothing troubles him that 
 you can prevent, till the New Year comes, and a holiday 
 with it. For a holiday he shall have then, or I ll eat my 
 diploma," with which blood-curdling threat Maitland shook 
 Archie s hand more cordially than he had done at meeting, 
 and sent him away. 
 
 This, then, was another reason why Melia had not seen 
 him. For Archie, glancing covertly at his father during 
 dinner that same evening, saw changes that he had not 
 noticed before, and that he by no means liked. It seemed 
 to him that, ever since their holiday (which, by the by, he 
 had voted uncommonly slow), his father had aged. His 
 hair was decidedly grayer, his face more yellow, and there 
 was less color than ever in the thin, tight lips. A cover 
 fell during dinner that night, and Archie, looking at his 
 father that very moment, saw how he started almost before 
 it touched the ground, and, half turning in his chair with an 
 angry frown, opened his mouth to scold the unlucky ser 
 vant, and then closed it again, and kept it closed without 
 having said a word, as if he felt the need of saying nothing, 
 lest he should say too much. 
 
 After that Archie gave his father more consideration than 
 he had ever done before. He even went so far as to start 
 conversations at dinner, trying to be regardless of the some- 
 M hat contemptuous replies which he often received, and he 
 gradually found that his father s sarcasms were not so ter 
 rible as he used to think them. Then he went farther, one 
 night when Lord Inch was particularly friendly, and asked 
 whether he might bring his books to the study and read 
 there. Leave was given, though with raised eyebrows, 
 which expressed a kind of polite surprise quite as well as 
 words could. He flushed a little, but sat there for the even 
 ing, and the next night Lord Inch asked if he were coming
 
 196 MR. PETERS 
 
 again, which Archie thought was intended for an invitation, 
 and worked at the table in the study that night, and for 
 several nights after. While he read, Lord Inch frowned 
 over processes sent down in his bag from the Parliament 
 House, or sat staring into the fire. A night came, however, 
 when Archie s self-imposed duties pressed hard upon him, 
 and, after he had been working for perhaps half an hour, he 
 rose to go out. 
 
 His father looked up, and asked where he was going. 
 
 " I want a walk," Archie told him, " and I m going to get 
 some tobacco." 
 
 " There are cigars there," Lord Inch told him, nodding 
 towards a little cabinet near the mantel-piece, but Archie 
 said he wanted a pipe, and went out, while his father turned 
 to his papers again without any further comment. 
 
 In a quarter of an hour Archie passed the door which was 
 guarded by his old acquaintance Sandy, feeling so cheered, 
 by this little excursion, that he winked amicably at that 
 silent individual, as he went in. Melia, alone and a trifle 
 dull, was so much taken by surprise, that she had greeted 
 him cordially, and with a beaming smile, before she remem 
 bered the distant terms upon which they had parted. Then 
 she drew herself up a little stiffly. 
 
 " D you want the same as you used to have, Mr. Inch ? " 
 she asked politely, with an air that suggested a lapse of 
 centuries since his last visit. 
 
 " The baccy, not the cigarettes, please," Archie told her, 
 and put down his pouch upon the counter. 
 
 Melia gave a little sniff at it, before she put the tobacco 
 in. 
 
 " We sell that mixture too," she informed him with em 
 phasis. " Would you prefer it ? " 
 
 " No, thanks," Archie told her, staring a little, " I d 
 rather have Dream Mixture, please." 
 
 " Very well," said Melia. " It s a pity it isn t sold in
 
 MELIA RECEIVES VISITORS 197 
 
 more places than one. It s such a long way for you to come 
 for it," 
 
 " It only takes me about ten minutes/ Archie answered, 
 filling his pipe as he spoke. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Melia, with an air of polite surprise, " why, 
 I thought it took near a fortnight/ at which Archie 
 burst out laughing, and Melia, pleased to see that the 
 point was appreciated, smiled somewhat more cordially 
 upon him. 
 
 " I m an ass," Archie confided to her ; " I should have 
 been in before to tell you I knew it, but my governor s 
 seedy ; I ve scarcely been out any evening after dinner. 
 Busy too, working for an exam." 
 
 " That ll be no trouble to you, Mr. Inch, I m sure," said 
 Melia. " I mean the examinations, of course. But I m 
 sorry to hear about your pa father I mean." 
 
 " Oh, he ll get a holiday soon, and the doctors 11 put 
 him all right again then," said Archie, puffing away philo 
 sophically. 
 
 " I can feel what it must be like to be anxious about him," 
 Melia said sympathetically, " since I got mine back." 
 
 " Your what ? " 
 
 " My father," said Melia, with some dignity. " A Uni 
 versity gentleman like yourself, Mr. Inch, only Oxford." 
 
 " The deuce ! " said that astonished youth, staring more 
 than ever. " I mean, I thought you were an orphan, Miss 
 Rivers." 
 
 " So I might have been," returned Melia rather vaguely, 
 " and I didn t know but what I was. I didn t care to boast 
 much of my people till I could point to em if needs be. But 
 you do stare ! It s not so wonderful as all that, is it ? " 
 
 " It s not that I was looking at," Archie said admir 
 ingly. " By Jove, what splendid hair you ve got, Miss 
 Rivers. Is it the light, or what ? Why it looks just like 
 what I saw in pictures abroad last summer. Or is it your
 
 198 MR. PETERS 
 
 dress ? If your father has come back, what are you in black 
 for ? " 
 
 " Well, it s quieter," Melia told him, rather pleased that 
 he noticed the difference., " and the old velveteen was 
 rubbed to bits at the elbows through leaning on the counter, 
 talking to you, / believe." 
 
 " I wish you d let me give you a new one then," said 
 Archie, " though 1 must say I like the black best it looks 
 so - " he was going to say " lady-like," but stopped in 
 time lest that too might cause trouble, and said "pretty" in 
 stead, and Melia was pleased because, after a little consulta 
 tion with Nell, she had set off a black dress with big white 
 cuffs and wide collars, the ironing of which had given her 
 considerable trouble. 
 
 " But your hair ? " Archie insisted, looking admiringly 
 at that abundant ornament, which was now entirely free 
 from artificial color. The young man is either very bold 
 or else very innocent who ventures to ask questions upon 
 such a subject, but Archie s admiration was so open that 
 Melia didn t mind very much. 
 
 " Well," she said, recollecting the answer she had given to 
 Peters, " I ve got over the influenzy. They say that makes 
 a world of difference to the hair. I m glad mine didn t fall 
 out. Then, too," she added, with some little effort, for 
 Melia s ideas were changing in other matters than those of 
 dress, " I m usin a different lotion. Maybe the last was 
 colorin it a bit." 
 
 " And are you going to drop the shop ? " asked Archie, 
 looking round discontentedly. But Melia shook her head. 
 
 " There s no hurry," she told him. " Father s come over 
 on business, which may be good, and then which may not. 
 I m well treated here, and here I stay, till I know what 
 comes next." 
 
 " It s cosier than it was," Archie allowed, admiring the 
 tobacco plant and some cut flowers, while a dark, warm-
 
 MELIA RECEIVES VISITORS 199 
 
 looking, new curtain hid Melia s little sanctuary from 
 him. 
 
 " But what will your dad say ? " he went on. " Oxford 
 men don t care to have - I mean., he ll be wanting you 
 to keep house for him ! " 
 
 " There s no house to keep yet," Melia explained, " and 
 p r aps there won t be, you know. A gentleman may be a 
 gentleman all round, and yet stay poor, you know, Mr. 
 Inch." 
 
 " That s true," Archie said, quite cordially, " and I hope 
 you won t think of running away, Miss Rivers." 
 
 " Well," Melia allowed, " I m not going to-morrow. As 
 for when I may go, here s father, and he knows more about 
 it than I do," and Archie, turning from where he lounged 
 over the counter, still lost in admiration of the red hair, 
 found the benevolent Rivers looking at him curiously from 
 the doorway, while on Rivers heels, following him like an 
 amiable shadow, came a big, dark, foreign-looking man, 
 with a sleepy, placid, clean-shaven face no other, in fact, 
 than Mr. Peters.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 CONCERNING VARIOUS TOASTS 
 
 MELIA looked from one to the other of this strange trio, 
 and seemed a little puzzled. 
 
 " Fact is," she announced presently, " I s pose I should 
 introduce you, gentlemen. Father, this is Mr. Archie Inch, 
 a regular customer of mine., and a University gentleman like 
 yourself. Mr. Archie Inch my father ; and this is Cap n 
 Peters come in, Cap n Peters, there s room for a little one 
 and Cap n Peters has been everywhere I believe, Mr. Inch, 
 and knows most things, it seems to me, though he doesn t 
 talk about it, and I don t know if he s a University gentle 
 man ; and now you all know each other, and whether there s 
 room for the three of you on that old settee, or whether it ll 
 break up, bein of a weak constitution, if you all sit down 
 on it together, I can t tell till you ve tried." 
 
 Having got this far, Melia stopped for breath, and her 
 father held out an affable hand, while Peters bowed sol 
 emnly in the background. 
 
 " Of Oxford ? " asked Eivers, taking the hand of the not- 
 very-eager Archie. 
 
 " Edinburgh." 
 
 " Ah ! her northern sister ! " said Rivers, still affable, 
 but now with a distinct touch of condescension. " I hope 
 to go over your University some day, Mr. Inch. You lose 
 a great deal, my dear sir, by your non-collegiate system. 
 It destroys esprit de corps. Have you ever been to Oxford, 
 Mr. Inch ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " said Archie, with some asperity, " I went down 
 in the Rugger team that beat em last year," after which, for
 
 CONCERNING VARIOUS TOASTS 201 
 
 a moment, there was silence, while Archie condemned 
 Rivers as an old Bounder, and Rivers, surveying the son of 
 his intended victim, wondered how he could be made useful. 
 He knew quite well, without any help from Melia, who 
 Archie was. Like Peters, he had seen him go in and out of 
 No. 45, and Melia had spoken of him casually, when Rivers 
 was questioning her in idle curiosity concerning her cus 
 tomers. 
 
 " Well," said Melia, proud at being able to show her 
 respectable parentage, and hospitably anxious to honor the 
 occasion, " as Mr. Inch knows very well, this is all of my 
 establishment that a customer ever sees, but I don t know 
 that it ll hurt trade, if I throw the whole place open to you 
 gentlemen for one night only. I shut soon now, anyway, 
 and p r aps if you ll come in a little farther, Mr. Peters, 
 unless you re shy to-night, and close that there door, and 
 pull this curtain back, then some can sit inside and some 
 out here, and you ll all get more room, and be able to talk 
 just as well." 
 
 " I ought to be going," said Archie doubtfully, but when 
 Melia said, " Oh, don t, Mr. Inch, please ! " and looked at 
 him in a more friendly way than she generally did, he said 
 
 that he supposed he could spare a quarter of an hour, and 
 
 sat down. 
 
 " You can tell me about my old college, Balliol," said 
 
 Rivers sentimentally. 
 
 " I didn t see it," Archie told him. " There was too much 
 
 on for us, while we were there." 
 
 " Well, well ! " Rivers shook his head mournfully, and 
 
 seemed quite hurt. " Fancy bejng at Oxford without going 
 
 over Balliol ! Dear me ! I d like to drink to Balliol if we 
 
 were in my little diggings." 
 
 " There s a kettle, that I ll boil in a minute ! " Melia 
 
 chimed in, hospitably. " I ll make you all a lovely cup of 
 
 tea," and couldn t understand what amused them so much.
 
 202 MR. PETERS 
 
 " It would certainly be a change," Rivers allowed. " I 
 don t suppose that Balliol has ever been toasted in tea yet. 
 But wait ! " A sudden idea struck him and he made for the 
 door, after borrowing five shillings for half an hour from 
 Mr. Peters. " Put the kettle on, my dear Em ly ! " he told 
 her, and disappeared, while Melia stared from Peters to 
 Archie and back again. 
 
 " What s up ? " she asked, and Archie shook his head ; 
 but Peters, settling down on the red settee and puffing great 
 clouds, said, " Whiskey ! " which was the first word he had 
 spoken since he came in, and which, being very much to the 
 point, and echoing deeply through the little place, rather 
 impressed x\rchie, who now bestowed upon Mr. Peters the 
 attention hitherto monopolized by Rivers. As for Peters, 
 he enveloped himself in smoke, through which his eyes 
 studied Archie unwinkingly, while, to Archie s dismay, he 
 chatted like an old friend with Melia, who seemed to allow 
 him to do so on a much more friendly footing than Archie 
 could ever get. His disgust reached a climax when Peters 
 inquired with solicitude, concerning a fall Melia had got 
 from her bicycle, on the previous Sunday. Archie was 
 glaring reproachfully at Melia, who was not so unconscious 
 as she seemed, when Rivers returned jubilant. 
 
 " I think," he told them, " that we might now honor 
 Balliol, if you will join me. Here is a sufficient quantity of 
 the National Beverage," and, as Peters had predicted, he 
 brought out a bottle of whiskey. He also produced three 
 toddy-glasses. " To be returned," he told them. " Em ly, 
 my dear, you will make yourself a cup that cheers but not 
 inebriates. Here is also a lemon, and I presume that, for 
 those who like it, you can supply sugar. Balliol ought to 
 have had champagne, but her sons can but offer libation of 
 the best they can afford." He sighed at the thought of 
 such scant honors for Balliol, but brightened as he drew 
 the cork, and sampled the whiskey before venturing to offer
 
 CONCERNING VARIOUS TOASTS 203 
 
 it for general use. " Twill serve/ he told them, and fell to 
 telling Archie the exploits of his youth, while they waited 
 for the kettle to boil. That young man, however, was not 
 so attentive as he should have been, considering the im 
 portance of the subject. He answered rather at random, 
 when he answered at all, and Rivers, though inwardly vot 
 ing him an unlicked cub, was interested to notice that it 
 was Melia s chatter to her friend " Cap n " Peters which 
 distracted Archie s attention. 
 
 " In the States," he said, a propos of uncomfortable 
 quarters as compared with life at Balliol, " one must rough 
 it." 
 
 He repeated this valuable information a little more care 
 fully since Archie took no notice of it, and when the latter 
 at last paid attention, he added, " Have you ever been there, 
 Mr. Inch ? " 
 
 " No," said Archie, wondering what on earth Meiia 
 found to interest her in Peters conversation. " My father 
 has," he added, as an afterthought. 
 
 " You don t say so ! " Rivers was much interested. 
 " You don t happen to know where he was ? " he asked, 
 but got no more information. " All over the place," was 
 Archie s reply. As the kettle was now hissing loudly, and 
 Peters had ceased talking with Melia, Kivers stopped too, 
 not being quite decided how far to press his questioning, 
 and suggested refreshment. So the three glasses were filled, 
 and Rivers having proposed " Balliol ! " it was drunk 
 though not with any great enthusiasm. Then he insisted 
 that each should propose a toast, and Archie straightway 
 suggested " The Ladies." Peters being pressed for his 
 sentiments, was meditative, and being, as he announced, 
 " a most damnably stupid foreign man," took some time 
 to think of anything suitable. He at last proposed, " May 
 we all get what we deserve ! " which was the most popular 
 toast of the three, and was drunk with great applause, be-
 
 204 MR. PETERS 
 
 sides being warmly praised by Rivers as " quite English ! " 
 This way of putting it, however, evoked a protest from 
 Archie, who, there being no heeltaps, had now swallowed 
 three stiff glasses, all prepared for him by Rivers. He 
 wished, in place of the word " English," to substitute " Brit 
 ish," and got angry because he found " British " a difficult 
 word to negotiate. He produced it, however, at last, with 
 gravity and extraordinary distinctness, and was proceeding 
 to argue with Rivers upon the merits of their respective uni 
 versities, when Melia, who had watched the proceedings 
 rather anxiously, declared that she must close the shop at 
 once. 
 
 As she proceeded to do so without stopping to argue the 
 point, Archie and Peters presently found themselves help 
 ing her. Then Rivers, who had taken a fourth and a fifth 
 glass while Melia was putting up the shutters, became much 
 concerned for her safety, and declared that he must see his 
 only child safe home. ]t was of no use for Melia to point 
 out that she was accustomed to go alone. He declared it 
 his duty to go with her, and Peters, in response to an appeal 
 ing glance from Melia, suggested that he might as well 
 come too. 
 
 This enraged Archie, who straightway declared his inten 
 tion of joining the party, and Melia, provided they cleared 
 out quietly, was ready to agree to anything. 
 
 So she had such an escort as she had never been honored 
 with before in her life, and the adieux at the foot of the 
 stair, in Comely Bank, savored of a much earlier and more 
 ceremonious period in the evolution of manners. 
 
 Then Rivers, who by this time was calling Archie his 
 dear boy, must needs see him home, and Peters, whom 
 Archie had quite forgiven, went that way also. They parted 
 on the best possible terms at Lord Inch s door, and Archie 
 would certainly have made them come in, but for an indis 
 tinct idea that, for some particular reason which he couldn t
 
 CONCERNING VARIOUS TOASTS 205 
 
 quite remember, he mustn t disturb his father. So he re 
 gretfully watched them go down the street under a cold 
 moonlit sky. 
 
 Almost before Archie had lost sight of them, Eivers, 
 hanging heavily on to the arm of his dear friend Captain 
 Peters, was darkly hinting to that attentive gentleman that 
 if he, Rivers, told all he knew, there would be very consider 
 able discomfort in No. 45. After this, assisted by the very 
 little whiskey left in the bottle which he had brought away 
 in his pocket, and by part of another, opened when he 
 reached his room, he became very melancholy, and went to 
 bed weeping for his dead wife.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 PIPES AND PATIENCE 
 
 WHEN day dawned, after the symposium already spoken 
 of, Peters was sitting in his room alone. He had pulled one 
 of the two easy-chairs round to the front of the fire, and was 
 stretched out with his slippered feet on the fender, his hands 
 in his trousers pockets, and a long pipe in his mouth, a pipe 
 so long that the little bowl rested on the floor. 
 
 The position was comfortable, suitable for meditation or 
 for dreams. The scent of the burning tobacco was peculiar, 
 and had a peculiar effect upon Peters, whose eyes were half 
 closed, while his lips, instead of being kept, as usual, fairly 
 well together, opened often in a lazy, contented smile. 
 
 Anyone passing from this room to the next, would have 
 seen that the bed there had not been disturbed, and the 
 room was quite tidy, which was more than could be said of 
 his sitting-room. Peters had come in so wakeful that he 
 had walked up and down for the greater part of the night, 
 and had only taken to this tiny-bowled, long-stemmed pipe 
 when the gray morning was showing over the house-tops. 
 This business of his was dragging desperately, and the man 
 was not so uniformly indifferent to it as he seemed. Some 
 times there came to him, without warning, a sudden temp 
 tation to settle it in another way than that which he had 
 planned, and to have done with it all. Then, as quickly 
 as possible, Peters betook himself to his room and to the 
 small-bowled pipe, and brought himself down firmly 
 (though this seems a ridiculous contradiction of terms) to a 
 state of mind in which he wandered through strange lands 
 where he ruled alone, and where nothing mattered much ex 
 cept the thousand indescribable delights of the moment.
 
 PIPES AND PATIENCE 207 
 
 There were two very great dangers in this last resource 
 of Mr. Peters . One was that, by repeated use of this key 
 to the gates of strange countries, he might be led to prefer 
 them above this comparatively joyless existence and to 
 dwell in them continually. The other was, that his most 
 impatient moments came while he fitted the key to the lock, 
 and he was more ready than ever, just then, to settle any 
 thing and everything in the quickest possible way. He knew 
 of these two dangers better than anyone else. He did his 
 best to prevent the first, by only using this key when every 
 thing else seemed useless. He usually avoided the second, 
 b} the very simple expedient of locking his more material 
 door with a more material key, so that no one could come 
 in unexpectedly, and further, by putting away that key in 
 his bedroom, so that a distinct effort was necessary before 
 he could go out. This morning, however, he had forgotten 
 his usual precaution, and the result was that Rivers came in, 
 after an unnoticed single knock, and stood surveying the 
 scene from the doorway. 
 
 " I couldn t take any breakfast," he explained to the 
 motionless figure in the easy-chair, " and our friend Mrs. 
 Jimps told me that you had not been down, so I just 
 looked in to see how things were. We were a bit. gay 
 last night, weren t we ? Some special occasion, I believe. 
 I thought I d take a hair of the dog, and I find I ve none 
 left." 
 
 He got no answer, for Peters, though he heard, had too 
 little interest in sublunary matters to reply. Rivers crossed 
 the room, and took the other easy-chair with the familiarity 
 of one who had occupied it pretty often lately. As he did so 
 he sniffed suspiciously, and his eye fell upon the pipe, the 
 peculiar shape of which was not unfamiliar to the Bun 
 combe of other days. 
 
 " Hullo ! " he observed, " what s your little game ? " 
 
 The big head rolled a little towards him, the eyes bright-
 
 208 MR. PETERS 
 
 ened under the half-closed lids, and Peters smiled in sleepy 
 benevolence. 
 
 " Patience," was all he answered, and it amused his 
 visitor. 
 
 " Patience again ! You play with that pipe, I suppose ? 
 Come now, that won t do, Captain Peters, he went on in 
 a jocular way, " where are your cards ? " 
 
 The man lying before him, with the mouth-piece of the 
 long pipe dropping away from his lips, gave a cunning, 
 sleepy smile, and seemed to enter into the joke. " Up my 
 sleeve ! " he muttered, and Rivers applauded noisily. 
 
 " Excellent, excellent ! " he told him. " I hope you ve 
 a good hand, I m sure. May I help myself to whiskey ? " 
 
 But the drowsy eyes were beginning to brighten in an odd 
 fashion. If Rivers had been watching more carefully he 
 might have noticed this, and also that they fastened upon 
 his face with a peculiar intentness. Rivers, however, was 
 looking across at the sideboard for something drinkable, and 
 pursued his small joke with the dull pertinacity of the man 
 who does not make one often. 
 
 " Show me your hand ! " he persisted. 
 
 "Soon! Go away!" 
 
 The man, if he had known how close he sat under the 
 Shadow of Death, would have shown fear, and, doing so, 
 would have roused the hunting instinct in the other, and 
 would have died where he sat. But he had caught sight of a 
 spirit decanter on the sideboard, and that settled the matter. 
 
 " Very well," he said, seeing an opportunity, " I ll take 
 the pool this time, and let you have your revenge later " ; 
 and crossing the room, he took the decanter, and, laughing 
 over his shoulder, went off. 
 
 As the door closed behind him, the great body in the 
 easy-chair was tense and ready for a spring, and Peters 
 scowled when he realized that his visitor had gone. lie half 
 turned in his chair, intending to lock the door now against
 
 PIPES AND PATIENCE 209 
 
 all comers, but his hand fell upon the pipe, and, raising it 
 to his lips, he allowed a vacant smile gradually to relax his 
 face. 
 
 A little later the pipe slid from his open mouth again, 
 but this time Peters did not notice it. He had passed the 
 gates. 
 
 14
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THIEF ! 
 
 AFTER Rivers had fortified himself from the spirit de 
 canter, he sat and meditated over the doings of the last night, 
 and the more he thought things out, the more pleased he 
 was with his prospects. Archie had done very little to hide 
 his admiration for Melia, and Rivers, sitting quietly in his 
 own room and gradually finding all things take a rosy hue, 
 saw great possibilities, and decided that he must at once 
 turn them into certainties. As a first step he twisted the 
 blue-black mustache carefully, and went down to the door 
 with his very glossy hat tipped a little to one side. It was 
 characteristic of Rivers to put on his hat the moment that 
 he decided to go out, not waiting until he reached the door ; 
 and it was always his fascinating habit to wear it considerably 
 out of the perpendicular when he was in good spirits. 
 When, in his opinion, a hard world treated him harshly and 
 fortune frowned, he wore the hat pulled forward a trick 
 which he had copied from the stage and his mustache 
 drooped despondently, and showed ragged bitten ends. 
 
 He met Mrs. Jimps upon the stair, and, his hat being on, 
 he had the opportunity of taking it off with a fine semicircu 
 lar sweep, as she stopped him to ask whether he had seen 
 Peters Captain Peters, as Rivers had set the fashion of 
 calling him, following the example of Melia. 
 
 " Oh yes, I ve seen him," Rivers told her. " He does not 
 intend to have any breakfast, Mrs. Jimps." 
 
 "Dear me ! " said Mrs. Jimps, much concerned, "I ve 
 kept a haddock hot for him, and Captain Peters is so fond of 
 a good haddock. Shall I take it up for him, Mr. Rivers ? "
 
 THIEF! 211 
 
 " No, I think not," said Rivers, chuckling unpleasantly as 
 he thought of Peters occupation. " Captain Peters has had 
 all the breakfast he wants, Mrs. Jimps, and I think he has 
 gone to sleep again " ; and with that he went jauntily on his 
 way, before Mrs. Jimps could formulate inquiries concern 
 ing Captain Peters loss of appetite. She thought thereon, 
 however, and decided that he should have lunch in his own 
 room. By that arrangement she could insure his having 
 something extra, without causing discontent among the 
 less-favored Paying Guests, which shows that Mrs. Jimps 
 had a kind heart that did not allow her to regard her visitors 
 from a strictly business point of view, but that she also regu 
 lated its promptings by a certain amount of the prudence 
 born of experience. Can we blame her, if her thoughts, 
 during that day, dwelt a great deal upon the possible and 
 probable causes of Mr. Peters loss of appetite, and if she 
 considered love among the rest ? Love, she knew from ex 
 perience, could make a difference. For the most profitable 
 visitors she had ever welcomed, were two young people who 
 had become engaged under her roof. But then they didn t 
 make it up in sleep, as Mr. Peters seemed to be doing. On 
 the contrary, they were always the first to meet at the break 
 fast-table, and the last to leave the drawing-room at night. 
 If Mrs. Jimps could have seen the way in which Peters had 
 paced his room until morning, love would have seemed to 
 her the certain cause. But she knew nothing of that, and 
 could only relieve her mind by poetically expressing her 
 sentiments in a nicely cooked sweet-bread, sent up in a most 
 tempting manner when Peters rang well on in the after 
 noon for hot water. 
 
 That morning Melia, too, thought over the last night s 
 proceedings, after she had opened the shop and made every 
 thing tidy. Rivers was a seasoned toper, and though the 
 one to blame, he had shown very little sign of excess while 
 with Melia. He had merely been a little more garrulous
 
 212 MR. PETERS 
 
 and demonstrative. Peters had not taken so much as either 
 of the other two, and could have taken more than either 
 without being affected by it. But Archie had been de 
 cidedly excited, and Melia was very vexed when she thought 
 of him. It was she who had asked him to stay, and she know- 
 that he would not have done so without her invitation. It 
 was her father who had brought in the spirits and set the ex 
 ample, and Melia flushed as she told herself that he and she 
 were responsible for Archie s condition. The result was, 
 that when that rather puzzled and very penitent youth, in 
 stead of going to his Humanity Class, dropped in at the shop 
 to find out if he had made a fool of himself, ready, if need 
 were, to apologize most humbly, he found Melia almost in 
 tears, and could not understand what on earth was the mat 
 ter, until she tried to explain and scarcely even then. 
 
 " It was me, Mr. Inch, it was all me," she persisted. 
 
 " I don t know what you mean," he told her. " You 
 never asked me to drink. I hope I didn t behave like a cad. 
 I can t say that I remember anything more than that I was 
 a talkative ass, but I want to know if there s anything more 
 I ve got to be sorry for." 
 
 " No," said Melia, and, to her own intense disgust, went 
 off into an hysterical giggle, as she thought of his solemn 
 figure bending over her hand in the lamplight, at the door 
 of her lodgings. 
 
 " Well, I mustn t mind your laughing at me," said Archie 
 humbly. " I know it serves me right, and I m awfully 
 ashamed of myself. All I can say is that I was never like 
 that before." 
 
 This was quite true, Archie s weakness not being in that 
 direction, and Melia ought to have been pleased to hear it ; 
 but, to his astonishment, she took the information in a dif 
 ferent spirit, and, putting her head down upon the counter, 
 wept openly. 
 
 " What on earth have I said now ? " he asked, " Melia
 
 THIEF ! 213 
 
 dear, for goodness sake, stop crying, and tell me what s the 
 matter." 
 
 But Melia s feelings had got the better of her for the 
 moment, and she could only cry on. Archie tried to pull 
 away her fingers and make her lift up her face, but he was 
 clumsy, and only succeeded in disarranging her hair, which 
 uncoiled across the counter like a great snake of red gold. 
 That, and her hands, hid Melia s face altogether, but they 
 left bare the back of her neck, creamy and tempting. He 
 looked down at that, fascinated, and silently tried once more 
 to make her lift her head and deliver him from temptation. 
 Then, failing in this, he stooped over the counter and kissed 
 that creamy spot once, twice, and raised his head, proud 
 and ashamed to find his idol s father watching in the door 
 way. 
 
 " Well, sir," said that irate parent, who, as a matter of 
 fact, could have interfered before the climax, had he 
 thought well to do so, " what is the meaning of this ? " 
 
 Melia had already straightened herself up at this reckless 
 attack, pale and panting, and was on the point of flaring out 
 in sincere and righteous indignation against the reckless 
 youth, but, at the sound of Elvers voice, her face crimsoned, 
 and she would have given worlds for the shop floor to gape 
 and swallow her. Almost immediately, however, she real 
 ized that she didn t want that to happen unless Archie was 
 saved in the same way, so, at the mercy of very mixed feel 
 ings, she neither spoke nor moved, except, with trembling 
 hands, to attempt the capture and restraint of that snaky 
 red coil, and the two young people stood looking very fool 
 ish and ashamed before the virtuous Rivers, who made an 
 admirable picture of dignified astonishment. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this ? " repeated Rivers. 
 " Em ly, is it possible ? " 
 
 " It s no fault of Miss Rivers ," Archie stammerefl, find 
 ing his tongue when he saw his beloved questioned. " I m
 
 214 MR. PETERS 
 
 sure she never knew what I was going to do. You d have 
 seen that for yourself if you d been a moment earlier. I 
 I didn t know myself," he added haltingly, with a look of 
 entreaty at the still agitated Melia. 
 
 " Didn t know, sir ! " repeated Rivers, with splendid 
 scorn. " Didn t know ! You needn t tell me that you took 
 my daughter by surprise. You needn t tell me that my 
 daughter was not a willing party to this this infamous at 
 tack. But to say that you didn t know. Have you no self- 
 respect, no self-control ? " 
 
 " I m afraid not," muttered the abashed Archie, with 
 another penitent glance at Melia. " I m more sorry than I 
 can say." 
 
 " Then, am I to understand," asked Eivers, with a gallant 
 effort at icy politeness, " am I to understand that you regret 
 the er embrace that I witnessed, and wish to back out of 
 this affair ? " 
 
 " I regret it only so far as it has hurt Miss Rivers," Archie 
 told him, never taking his eyes from Melia s face, " I I 
 otherwise I mean, I should be only glad to to do it over 
 again," and at this shameless avowal Melia was over 
 whelmed with crimson confusion, and fled past the curtain 
 to hide herself. There she listened, without in the least 
 meaning to do so, telling herself all the while that she was a 
 shameless hussy, and could, nevertheless, never bear to see 
 Hi in any more.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 SEEING PAPA ! 
 
 IT was very little more that Melia heard that morning, 
 for, after another word or two, Eivers suggested an adjourn 
 ment, and he and Archie left the shop together. 
 
 It was characteristic of Melia s father, that he should 
 choose a private bar as the spot for a quiet talk, and also 
 that, having suggested the unfortunate necessity for some 
 thing in the way of refreshment, for the good of the place, 
 he should leave Archie to pay for it. 
 
 " And now, Mr. Inch," said Eivers solemnly, after having 
 tasted and approved, " as this young lady s father, I must 
 ask you, speaking as one gentleman and man of the world 
 tc another, what do you mean to do ? " 
 
 " I m sure I don t know," said poor Archie dolefully, for 
 the excitement of the moment had gone. " I m ready to go 
 back and apologize again at once, if you like, and if Miss 
 Eivers will listen to me." 
 
 " Apologize sir ! " said Eivers indignantly, twisting his 
 mustache with the most truculent air he could muster. 
 " Apologize ! What on earth are you dreaming of ? Do 
 you think yourself free to kiss my daughter at the price of 
 an apology ? Good heavens ! Why, if it were once known 
 that a handsome girl like that could be kissed for a mere 
 apology, Gad ! sir, there d be young men dropping in at 
 that place all day and all night, with apologies ready printed 
 and bound in sets." 
 
 " What on earth am I to do then ? " asked the unfortu 
 nate Archie, shuddering at the brutal way in which the mat 
 ter was being stated.
 
 216 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Do ! " repeated Rivers, with a fine air of contempt. 
 " Ton my soul, I thought I was talking to a man ! Did you 
 never think of marrying her ? " and Archie gasped, partly 
 at the terribly matter-of-fact manner in which Rivers sug 
 gested marriage, as if he were trying to sell Paradise by auc 
 tion and had accused Archie of a bid, and partly because, 
 after all, to hear Paradise spoken of so plainly, seemed to 
 make it less impossible. 
 
 " She wouldn t have me ! " he answered. " Sometimes 
 she won t even shake hands." 
 
 " Quite right too, one begins to think," said Rivers, work 
 ing himself up into an excited state, in which his voice grew 
 louder, and threatened to be heard beyond the little private 
 box in which they sat. " You acknowledge, then, that my 
 daughter cannot be accused of encouraging you ? " 
 
 " She s not a bit like that," Archie told him eagerly. 
 " She always made fun of me if I tried to be serious." 
 
 " Then what do you mean, sir, by these these endear 
 ments of to-day ? Were you serious, or were you merely try 
 ing how far a poor unprotected girl would let you go, with 
 out being serious ? " 
 
 It says a great deal for Archie s high opinion of, and re 
 spect for Melia, that he was able to stand this catechism 
 without rebelling, in disgust, at the idea of such an impos 
 sible father-in-law ; but, whatever his opinion of Rivers 
 might be, he was quite clear about Melia. 
 
 " Of course I was serious," he insisted. " I ve learned to 
 respect Miss Rivers very much lately. I d marry her to-mor 
 row if I could." 
 
 " Then," said Rivers, suddenly becoming affable, and 
 clutching at Archie s hand across the table, " we understand 
 one another perfectly, and you ve shown me that you are 
 the man of honor I took you to be. You ask me for my 
 daughter s hand." 
 
 " Yes," said Archie dubiously, " if you like to put it that
 
 SEEING PAPA! 217 
 
 way. Of course I can t have it unless she chooses, and, if 
 she chose, I don t know that I d ask you about it, but I 
 suppose it s all right." 
 
 " Of course it is," said Eivers, quite unruffled. " I must 
 see your father, and let him know the proposal which you 
 have done me the honor of laying before me." 
 
 " Oh, but you can t," the horror-stricken Archie told him. 
 " He s busy at the Parliament House all day just now." 
 
 " Then," said Eivers, " I must inconvenience myself so 
 far as to give up an evening to your affairs." 
 
 " He s in the doctor s hands," Archie protested. " I 
 wouldn t have him worried just now for anything. I d 
 rather even leave Miss Rivers quite free, if it must be so, 
 for the time." 
 
 " Will you have me go to your father," asked Eivers im 
 pressively, " and tell him of a proposal, and a promise, 
 made and withdrawn ? As a father I am bound, by regard 
 for my daughter s honor, to do one or the other." 
 
 " Do as you like then ! " groaned Archie, rising. " No, I 
 don t want anything to drink. Have it yourself if you like, 
 I haven t touched it. If I hadn t been an ass last night this 
 would never have happened." 
 
 " Am I to understand," demanded Eivers, with Archie s 
 untouched glass half-way to his lips, " that you wish to 
 blame anyone but yourself my daughter, for example for 
 anything that happened last night ? " 
 
 " No, not at all ! " said Archie, " I was a fool, and I must 
 pay for it." 
 
 " Well, my dear boy," said Eivers, raising the glass higher, 
 until the now fiercely twisted mustache just showed over 
 the brim, " it s not my business to know what you mean 
 by saying you were a fool, and I don t ask questions about 
 what does not concern me. If, as you say, you were a fool 
 last night, you ve been a very wise and fortunate young 
 man to-day. Gad ! sir, it doesn t become her father to
 
 218 MR. PETERS 
 
 boast, but I say my Em ly s husband will be a lucky man. 
 Be thankful that poverty prevents me from looking higher 
 than a simple gentleman for her ! You don t take the title, 
 I think ? No. Work hard then, Mr. Inch, and let her 
 old father see his little Em ly among the nobility, before 
 he dies." 
 
 With that Eivers drained the glass, such a sentiment 
 being obviously of the nature of a toast, and then he, too, 
 there being nothing more to drink, rose from the table. 
 
 " Let us say half-past eight this evening," he decided. " I 
 will do myself the honor of calling upon Lord Inch at that 
 time, my dear boy," and parting from Archie just outside, 
 he went jauntily away. 
 
 It could not be expected that Archie would attend any 
 lecture that day. He went disconsolately home, and shut 
 himself up in his own little room, which was supposed to be 
 a study, but which showed more volumes of the Badminton 
 Library, and other sporting works, than anything else. 
 Here he lit his largest pipe, and then, curled up in a fantas 
 tic attitude before the fire, he tried to think matters out, and 
 this is a summary of his meditations and conclusions. 
 
 He had been a fool last night, and was glad to have 
 Melia s authority for believing, since his recollections were 
 vague, that he hadn t been much worse. He had apolo 
 gized this morning, and straightway committed another 
 crime, for which sometimes he was sorry and sometimes he 
 was not, according as it happened that Melia, or her parent, 
 her captivating neck, or his aggressive mustache, rose in 
 his mind. From that point onward, Archie did not see 
 where he could have stopped. Didn t he love Melia ? Of 
 course he did. Why then was he sitting here, trying to think 
 things straight ? They were straight already, if only Melia 
 cared for him but, nevertheless, when Archie thought of 
 his father and of hers, he gave another groan, and set to 
 work, trying to think it all out again. Eivers was "a
 
 SEEING PAPA! 219 
 
 Bounder/ he told himself, as he had thought directly he 
 set eyes on that individual, and between his father and Riv- 
 ers there would at once be a row. If only Lord Inch saw 
 Melia and knew her for a little while, he would see, Archie 
 fondly protested, that she was a good girl, a clever girl, and 
 a pretty girl, who only needed a chance to be fit for any po 
 sition, and who was already far too good for his good-for- 
 nothing son. Then Archie thought of Kivers, grasping at 
 the second glass in the bar, and ready to bully as far as he 
 dared, and he, groaning at that unholy vision, turned to the 
 thought of Melia as she cried over the counter, with her 
 red hair about her face, and straightway came to a rash, or 
 valorous, determination. He would go back to her now, at 
 once, and they two would decide for themselves what 
 should be done. After all, who was her father, that he 
 should leave her for years and come just when he wasn t 
 wanted at anyrate by Archie ? 
 
 It was a relief to do anything, and to go anywhere. As 
 he went, Melia s face grew more and more distinct, and 
 Kivers face faded, until Archie s foremost thought, as he 
 went into the shop, past the kilted Highlander who had 
 stood still through so much, was merely that he should see 
 Melia again. 
 
 What he saw of her was not very encouraging. 
 
 Melia, on the departure of Archie and Rivers, had in 
 dulged in what she called a good cry. And I daresay, after 
 all, that, physiologically, it was good. Then, finding that 
 she could not imagine what was going to happen next, and 
 could not leave the shop to find out, she tried to work off her 
 excitement by a general clean-up, moving everything, and 
 dusting everywhere. The result was that Archie found 
 her on some low steps behind the counter, which was 
 covered with boxes taken down from a shelf that she was 
 dusting. 
 
 When she turned and saw who had come in, she and the
 
 220 MR. PETERS 
 
 low steps nearly toppled over together, but she clutched at 
 the shelf and began dusting again. 
 
 " Go away, Mr. Inch/ was all her salutation. 
 
 " I ve come to say how sorry I am," pleaded Archie. 
 
 " Very well, Mr. Inch, 1 don t bear malice. Go away ! " 
 
 " But I want to talk, Melia." 
 
 " My name s Rivers, Mr. Inch Miss Rivers, and I don t 
 want to talk." 
 
 " There s a lot to talk about," Archie assured her. 
 
 " I don t want to hear it then," Melia retorted obsti 
 nately, and still kept her face to the shelf, from which all 
 dust had disappeared long ago. 
 
 " I thought," Archie went on, " that you d like to hear 
 what your father said." 
 
 " He ll tell me, p r aps." 
 
 " I don t believe he ll see you until he has seen the 
 governor." 
 
 " Seen who ? " asked Melia, now turning about quickly 
 enough, and she almost toppled over again. 
 
 " My governor, my father," Archie answered, eying her 
 anxiously, to discover what he could from a somewhat tear- 
 disfigured face. 
 
 " What s he going to see him for ? " demanded Melia, 
 amazed, and Archie vainly sought for words to explain the 
 situation satisfactorily. 
 
 " I don t know how to tell you properly, upon my word 
 I don t," he at last admitted. " I m an ass, I know, and I ve 
 proved that twice, anyway, in the last twenty-four hours. 
 I can t think while you look at me like that, Melia." 
 
 " You ve grown very shy all of a sudden," said Melia 
 sarcastically, forgetting to remind him again that her name 
 was Rivers, and gaining courage as she discovered her own 
 power. " Tell me as much as you can, Mr. Inch, and I ll 
 excuse mistakes. They won t be the first I ve had to excuse 
 this morning, anyway."
 
 SEEING PAPA! 221 
 
 " Well," Archie told her, " your father, of course, wanted 
 to know what I meant by behaving so badly. I told him 
 I was awfully fond of you, Melia, and he asked me what 
 that meant. I said, of course, that I wanted to marry you, 
 only you always laughed at me, and had never given me 
 the chance of telling you so." 
 
 Archie stopped here, trying to think what to say next, 
 but Melia allowed him no time. 
 
 " Well ? " she insisted, stamping her foot. 
 
 " Well, your father said he must see my dad about it." 
 
 " About what ? " asked Melia. Her head was well up 
 now, and she was facing Archie defiantly, one foot tapping 
 impatiently on the floor all the time. 
 
 " Go on ! " she insisted, " quicker." 
 
 " About my wanting to marry you." 
 
 " And where do I come in ? " 
 
 " I said," Archie assured her, hurriedly, " that you didn t 
 care for me and never would, and that it wasn t a bit of good 
 unless you were willing, and I told him, too, that the gov 
 ernor s ill, and that I didn t feel that I could bother him 
 just now. But your father seemed to think I was try 
 ing to back out, which I never thought of, and said that 
 either way he meant to see the governor. So he s coming 
 to-night, and I don t care much for myself, for I think I 
 deserve it, but I m afraid it ll make father awfully bad. If 
 he d only wait a little." 
 
 " Seems to me," said Melia, keeping her head very high 
 and speaking hurriedly, " there s no need to wait, Mr. Inch, 
 and there s no need for your pa to be bothered just now or 
 any other time. Go you home and see him first. Tell him 
 from me that there was a silly bit of nonsense to-day w ich 
 meant nothing, and w ich I don t mean to remember. Tell 
 him I wouldn t have you at any price, and that if he likes, 
 he being a lawyer, I ll put the same on paper to-morrow if 
 he ll tell me how to do it and now go away."
 
 222 MR. PETERS 
 
 " 
 
 Melia, I can t go away without explaining," pleaded 
 Archie, not knowing quite what he meant to say, but want 
 ing to gain time. 
 
 " Will you go ? " asked Melia fiercely, " or must I leave 
 you to mind the shop and go myself ? " 
 
 So Archie went, dumfounded, and Melia collapsed 
 among the boxes.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 FATHER AND SON 
 
 IT is no doubt an excellent thing to feel and acknowl 
 edge the justice of retribution following on wrong-doing. 
 Archie had already declared that he had been a fool and 
 must suffer for it (which awkward way of putting things 
 had not appeared to poor Melia as very complimentary). 
 But, whatever Archie might say, he was not much consoled 
 by his abstract sense of justice when he found himself op 
 posite his father at the dinner-table that evening. Lord 
 Inch, too, did, if possible, even less than usual to encourage 
 confidences. As a matter of fact, he was already particu 
 larly troubled, and sat thinking gloomily over anxieties of 
 his own, and scarcely touching the different courses of the 
 meal, as they were put before him. For the first time since 
 he had taken his seat upon the bench he was obliged to pre 
 side at a trial for murder, which had already lasted through 
 a day. The case had nothing very peculiar about it. A man 
 had, through jealousy, deliberately murdered a woman, and 
 with the details we have nothing to do. Lord Inch ex 
 pected that next day would see the case ended. On that 
 afternoon he would sum up, and there was no room for 
 doubt, in his mind, but that every word he said would help 
 to convince fifteen men, if they were not convinced already, 
 that only one verdict was possible. 
 
 Then would come the sentence, pronounced by himself, 
 and he groaned to think of it. There was no comfort to 
 him in the argument, to which he again and again returned, 
 that he was merely the mouthpiece of the law, putting into 
 effect, against one who had every reasonable help, the con-
 
 234 MR. PETERS 
 
 elusion arrived at by fifteen reputable citizens. Nor did it 
 help him to think that his oath of office allowed no alter 
 native. The grim relentless machinery of the law was so 
 carefully adjusted, the responsibility so divided, each 
 function so legalized, that when the half-man half-brute 
 died as die he certainly would a few weeks hence each 
 could say, from the prosecuting counsel through all the rest, 
 witnesses, judge, and jury, to the common hangman, " It 
 was not I who killed him." But, to Lord Inch s troubled 
 mind, it seemed as though a special responsibility attached 
 to himself. He exaggerated his own importance in the 
 ceremonial, his own part in the practically inevitable end. 
 
 It was not for nothing that the loungers of the Parlia 
 ment House had, as he knew, called him, though half-laugh- 
 ingly, the Just Judge. He felt a grim satisfaction in decid 
 ing that he would shift no responsibility of his on any other 
 man s shoulders. He had fought for position, he had 
 worked for office, and, now that he filled it, no man should 
 have just cause to say that he shirked any of his duties. 
 If only he saw an opportunity of so guiding justice, he 
 thought, as to atone for his sin of twenty-five years ago, how 
 gladly he would take it ! Then, at once, he laughed a low 
 harsh laugh, shifting angrily in his chair, and muttering 
 to himself, entirely forgetful, for the moment, of Archie s 
 presence as he realized the absurdity of the wish. 
 
 What mere justice done to one man, as he was bound to 
 do it, could go one hair s-breadth to atone for injustice done 
 to another ? If one word of more than justice escaped 
 him, tending rather to mercy, then he must of necessity 
 be unjust, turning a deaf ear to the cry of innocent blood. 
 As Archie watched his father furtively, and wondered 
 how to begin his story to so grim a judge, Lord Inch s 
 thoughts went back to the beginning of his trouble. He 
 saw it all, he heard the tune of the unknown foreign words 
 which had rung in his ears so often since, and watched a
 
 FATHER AND SON 225 
 
 something which, but for him, might have been still a man, 
 swinging in the moonlight- 
 He had tried, when success and money came, quietly to 
 trace the relatives of that murdered man, but there was no 
 more sign of them than of the leaves beneath which the 
 corpse had swung. Still, he thought now, he must try 
 again. Trouble and expense must have no limit in such a 
 matter, and, comforted perhaps a little by this fresh resolu 
 tion, he put these thoughts away for the time with a sigh, 
 and tried to eat and to be more sociable. 
 
 Archie noticed the change, and noticed also, as he gave a 
 side glance at the clock, that in another hour the self- 
 invited visitor would be with them. How should he begin? 
 He had considered and rejected half a dozen circumlocutory 
 ways of approaching the matter, and now there was no time 
 for anything but plain speaking. 
 
 " Can I have a talk with you after dinner, father ? " 
 Lord Inch looked across the table, and frowned, inquir 
 ingly- 
 
 " Yes, of course, if you wish," he said, " but almost any 
 other time would be better. I have to read my notes in the 
 Lawnmarket case, and I must work all the evening." 
 
 " I m afraid it must be to-night," Archie answered in 
 desperation, " but I can tell you here while you re having 
 dessert. Then it will be over quicker." 
 
 " What s this ? " asked his father stiffly. " You have not 
 been getting into mischief, I hope." 
 
 " I m afraid you ll think so," Archie told him, keen to get 
 on now and have it over without any slow torture. " But," 
 he added, " I know you re not very fit just now, and I ve 
 tried to keep the thing quiet until you were better." 
 
 " Come away, man, come away ! " Lord Inch told him 
 impatiently, " let me hear the worst and have done with it." 
 So Archie floundered on, with one hand clenched under 
 the table and his eyes fixed upon his wine-glass, and, being 
 
 15
 
 226 MR. PETERS 
 
 as anxious as Lord Inch to get it finished, told the bare 
 facts of the trouble with no comment or excuse. 
 
 So unadorned was his story that, when he stopped, his 
 father knew very little of Archie s own feeling in the 
 matter. 
 
 " What a vulgar intrigue ! " he said scornfully, when 
 Archie was silent. " You fancy a tobacconist s girl, she lets 
 you kiss her, the father is in readiness, extorts a pretence of 
 a proposal out of you, and then has the audacity to talk of 
 coming round here, to see, of course, what he can screw out 
 of me. I shall not see him ! " 
 
 " No, no, you re quite wrong, father," Archie insisted, " I 
 haven t told you all. I ve great respect for Miss Rivers, 
 and I went round to see her again after that." 
 
 " Go on, sir ! " Lord Inch said, angrily. " Did she get 
 you to make her an offer of marriage in writing or did you 
 declare yourselves Man and Wife ? " 
 
 " She told me to tell you she wouldn t have me at any 
 price." 
 
 Lord Inch sat back in his chair, and eyed Archie grimly. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this ? " he demanded. 
 
 " It s quite true," Archie insisted. " She doesn t care for 
 me, and she won t have me. It s no good trying to make 
 you understand, father, for you ve never seen her, but she s 
 too good for me, and I suppose she knows it. She said that 
 if you would tell her how to put it, she d sign a paper saying 
 there was nothing between us." 
 
 " That s easily done," Lord Inch commented, and then 
 sat silent, looking at Archie curiously, and drumming upon 
 the table with his fingers. "Then why does the father make 
 his appearance ? " be asked presently, and added at once, 
 " I will not see him, I tell you. I need not. You have got 
 yourself into this difficulty. You can see him if you like, 
 and tell bim wbat bis daughter says. Stay, though ! Per 
 haps it would be best for her to sign that paper first ! "
 
 FATHER AND SON 327 
 
 "That/ thought Archie, "can wait," and he said no thing. 
 
 Presently Lord Inch, watching him, burst out into a 
 mirthless, sardonic laugh. 
 
 " You re a pretty fellow ! " he told his son impatiently. 
 " I think you must be right in saying the girl is too good 
 for you. Now that you have obtained your kiss, you don t 
 seem to care how the thing goes, so long as you get off scot 
 free ! " 
 
 The words stung the young fellow like a whip, but he 
 rose from the table and went across to the fire, before he 
 faced about and answered. 
 
 " I m not such a cur as you think me, sir," he told Lord 
 Inch at last. "Although it doesn t look much like it, I sup 
 pose, I m trying to consider you." 
 
 Lord Inch made him a little bow from his seat at the 
 table. " You are quite right to mention that. I had over 
 looked it. Would it be too much to ask where this con 
 sideration has been shown ? " 
 
 " I don t know that it s shown at all," Archie told him, 
 " but it s there." 
 
 "Beally !" said Lord Inch, in a mocking tone. "Where ?" 
 
 " I m very fond of Miss Eivers," Archie repeated, facing 
 him steadily, " and if you were all right, father, I should 
 talk differently. As it is, I bring you her message that 
 she ll have nothing to do with me, and I bring it so that 
 you mayn t have any worry when you meet her father. It 
 wasn t all for my own sake that I wanted you not to hear 
 about this." 
 
 " Well, well," said Lord Inch, perhaps a little softened, 
 for Archie spoke manfully enough, "in any case the thing is 
 impossible. You must see that. But if the girl won t have 
 anything to do with you, what is the use of my being wor 
 ried with the father ? Heavens ! man, I tell you I have 
 matters to think of to-night to which this is the merest 
 child s play ! "
 
 228 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Her father doesn t know what she said to me," Archie 
 insisted, " and he mustn t know. I ve only seen him twice, 
 but I believe he d be awfully hard on her if he knew." 
 
 " That is pertinent ! " Lord Inch allowed. " He might 
 influence her, and it would be difficult to prove her state 
 ment to you. I had better see the fellow for a minute." 
 
 " You won t tell him what she said ! " Archie entreated. 
 His father laughed coldly at the idea. " No," he said, " the 
 man shall hear nothing of that from me." 
 
 " I will be in the smoking-room," Archie suggested. 
 " You ll send for me if you want me." 
 
 " I fancy that I shall not need your help," Lord Inch 
 told him dryly. " You will oblige me by not seeing this 
 young person, or her father, until I tell you." 
 
 " I ll be ready to come to the study directly he s gone, if 
 you don t send for me before." 
 
 " You will do nothing of the kind ! " retorted Lord Inch 
 sharply, finishing his wine and rising from the table. " I 
 can see you no more to-night. I do not know that I shall 
 have any time to talk to-morrow morning, or to-morrow 
 night either. It seems hard to you, I daresay, but one can 
 not be a fool without suffering for it. You are fortunate if 
 the result of your folly lasts only a few hours." 
 
 lie was thinking of his own burden now, but the effect 
 was to make his voice and manner more than ever those of 
 a stern judge, who had no sympathy with human frailty or 
 folly of any kind, and Archie felt a very weak-kneed young 
 man as he listened. 
 
 " I know you can t understand a fellow making such a 
 fool of himself," he said dolefully, moving across the room 
 with his father, and standing aside at the door to let him 
 pass. " I know it s awfully hard on you to have such a chap 
 for a son, but one doesn t mean to do mischief." 
 
 " Xo, no ! " Lord Inch said, stopping suddenly in the 
 doorway, and looking out into the hall. " One docs not
 
 FATHER AND SON 229 
 
 mean to do mischief, my boy; one does not mean to do mis 
 chief," and then went hurriedly away to his study, while 
 Archie betook himself to the smoking-room, wondering 
 whether he had any good excuse for thinking that his 
 father s anger had lessened a little, just at the last.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 A OUTRANGE 
 
 IF Lord Inch had, for a moment, been moved by some 
 thought or memory when parting from Archie, he showed 
 no sign of any such weakness to Morris, the footman, who 
 answered his study-bell five minutes later, and received in 
 structions to admit a man Rivers, who would come having 
 business with his lordship. 
 
 That estimable parent, being shown in almost immedi 
 ately after, had no reason to be elated by the way in which 
 he was received. Lord Inch, scarcely looking up from his 
 desk, pointed to a chair and told him to sit down. 
 
 " To what do I owe this pleasure ? " he asked ceremoni 
 ously, but "Rivers made no haste to reply. He was studying 
 the keen face before him, which he tried to recognize, and 
 for the life of him could not. Twenty-five years of a legal 
 atmosphere had made the judge quite unrecognizable. 
 Rivers could only find consolation in tbinking that there 
 was still less chance of being himself detected. 
 
 The dry inscrutable figure opposite looked so irreproach 
 able, the eyes were so keen, the expression was so masterful, 
 that Rivers found it difficult to assume an air of assurance 
 and equality. 
 
 " My young friend Mr. Archibald has told your lordship, 
 no doubt," he said at last, in answer to Lord Inch s question. 
 
 " My son has told me that he met you last night for the 
 first time I believe," Lord Inch told him, dryly. " I must 
 trouble you to state your business quickly, that I may re 
 turn to mine." 
 
 As he spoke lie took up tbe pen, as if his work had still 
 the greater part of his attention, and Rivers cursed him
 
 A OUTRANGE 231 
 
 under his breath for a conceited dog of a lawyer, whom he 
 would bring down on his knees presently. 
 
 " You can easily understand," he told Lord Inch, " that I 
 must certainly know more of the young fellow before I give 
 my consent. But my daughter has known him longer, and 
 1 have great faith in her judgment." 
 
 " Your business, sir, your business ! " the other repeated. 
 
 " To consider your son s proposal of marriage to my 
 daughter," Eivers told him. " Is that plain enough ? " 
 
 " Quite ! " 
 
 Lord Inch laughed a little as he acknowledged this. 
 
 " We need not talk of your daughter s position or pros 
 pects, Mr. er Eivers," he added, after a glance at that 
 
 gentleman s card. " Do you know the boy s age ? " 
 
 " When I was at Balliol," said Rivers pompously, drag 
 ging in Balliol as it was bound to be dragged in, sooner or 
 later " (I am an Oxford man, my lord), I can have been no 
 older, but I knew my mind in these things." 
 
 Balliol ! There was something dimly familiar about 
 that word. Somewhere or other Lord Inch had met some 
 one who dragged Balliol into every conversation. But that 
 was immaterial to the present issue. 
 
 " My son is not yet twenty-one," he told Rivers. 
 
 " Tie very soon will be," Rivers said, carelessly. " I don t 
 think that would matter, if you and I came to terms." 
 
 The growing impertinence of his manner was rousing 
 Lord Inch s temper, which, however, did not yet show itself. 
 The Parliament House had been an admirable school in the 
 practice of an unruffled demeanor, and Lord Inch was now 
 showing just as much, or as little, of impatience as suited 
 him. After all, the affair was very much child s play. It 
 meant a little expense in getting Archie out of such undesir 
 able society, and a little caution in avoiding chatter. It 
 would be easy to bear with this fellow, until one had taken 
 the precaution of getting that absolving note which the girl
 
 232 MB. PETERS 
 
 had volunteered to give. Then the police could take the 
 man in hand if he proved troublesome. These thoughts 
 went on behind an unchanging face, expressionless almost, 
 except for the keen eyes, and then Lord Inch decided that 
 he had spent enough time in enduring this insolence. 
 
 " Well," he said, rising from his desk and moving across 
 to the fireplace, within reach of the bell, " in my opinion, 
 you have made a mistake in coming to discuss such a 
 question as you suggest, and perhaps you will think so 
 upon further consideration. I may say privately, and with 
 out prejudice, that if you choose, here and now, to drop 
 this matter altogether, I am willing to make you a gift of 
 fifty pounds to have done with it, and I shall think the kiss, 
 which I understand to be the excuse for your visit, very 
 handsomely paid for. I shall not repeat this offer. On the 
 other hand, if you wish uselessly to discuss the matter to a 
 greater extent, I must ask you to let me arrange some other 
 time. I am very busy to-night, and believe that my clerk 
 is waiting to come in. Shall we say fifty pounds ? I have 
 no intention of raising my terms." 
 
 He paused with his hand stretched towards the bell, and 
 looked at Eivers for his answer. But that individual did 
 not seem tempted by his offer, and, indeed, was smiling in 
 a way that Lord Inch did not understand. 
 
 " Come ! " the latter said, beginning to show impatience. 
 " I will see the girl myself when I have time," he thought, 
 watching Eivers. " If she be as sensible as Archie pre 
 tends, she shall have the fifty pounds privately, and this 
 cur shall have none. Come ! " he said again, a little more 
 loudly. " One way or the other, sir; I have other things 
 to do." 
 
 " So have I," retorted Eivers, not moving from his chair, 
 " and I mean to do them." 
 
 " That is well," Lord Inch told him, coolly. " You will 
 think over this, and see that you have made a mistake."
 
 A OUTRANGE 233 
 
 He turned to the bell once more, promising himself that 
 he would not be troubled with this scamp again, when a 
 word stopped him. 
 
 " What about Bonville ? " Kivers asked, and saw his 
 question answered without words. 
 
 The hand that almost rested upon the bell hung motion 
 less for some seconds, and then, slowly, stealthily, was 
 drawn away. The face which had been turned from him 
 came slowly round, as expressionless as a strong will could 
 make it; as hard, but also as void of blood, as the marble 
 mantel-piece behind it. The lips were set like iron, im 
 movable, unbending. It might have been the stiff face of 
 a dead man, but for the agonized eyes that glared across the 
 room. Then, before either spoke again, a sharp spasm shot 
 over the Judge s face, making the set lips open and writhe 
 with pain. Lord Inch drew himself up breathless against 
 the wall, standing as one might stand who saw death go by, 
 and who drew away lest he should be touched by the far- 
 sweeping scythe. There was no sound heard in that room 
 except the striking of a clock, until, with a face which was 
 calm again, but damp with sweat, he moved slowly away to 
 a sofa and lay there, waving off Kivers, who moved forward 
 with the notion of doing something, he did not know what. 
 The blow had told far beyond the man s highest expecta 
 tions. He seemed to be holding a stronger hand than he 
 had imagined. 
 
 " That is over," Lord Inch said presently. " Of what 
 were you speaking ? " 
 
 " Bonville," Eivers told him suddenly, half-frightened by 
 the ghastly effect of the word. " You seemed to hear it all 
 right." And Lord Inch, watching from where he lay, felt 
 that denial was useless. 
 
 " What of it ? " he asked curtly. " Who are you ? " 
 
 " You ve had my name already," Rivers told him. " As 
 for Bonville He stopped, staring hard at the Judge,
 
 234 MR. PETERS 
 
 who, he now felt, was completely in his power. " Well, as 
 for Bonville, you and I were there together, and I thought I 
 would warn you before I told my friend Mr. Archie among 
 the rest." 
 
 However much this might hurt Lord Inch to hear, he 
 showed nothing of his pain now. 
 
 " We were all there, I suppose," Rivers went on deliber 
 ately, " on a certain night that you and I are thinking of. 
 But most of us only looked on. You and I know what you 
 did." He was playing his hand now for all it was worth. 
 
 Lord Inch, lying back upon the sofa, said nothing, but, 
 stretching out his hand, poured something from a bottle 
 that stood within reach and drank it slowly, while Rivers 
 watched. 
 
 " What then ? " he asked quietly at last. 
 
 " What then ! " his visitor echoed mockingly. " Why, 
 nothing, I suppose. Nothing that all Edinburgh, all Scot 
 land, mayn t hear; and, by God, they shall hear it too," he 
 went on, maddened by the quiet way in which this man 
 faced him. " All Scotland shall know that Lord Inch, one 
 of Her Majesty s judges at the Parliament House, the Just 
 Judge, by the Lord ! murdered a man twenty-five years 
 ago. It may be nothing to you, but it will be news to a 
 great many." 
 
 He finished off with a string of blasphemies and abuse, his 
 voice rising as he went, and Lord Inch, still facing him 
 with a firm air, held up a warning hand. 
 
 " You will ," he began hoarsely, and then stopped. 
 
 His throat and lips were dry, he feared that his voice trem 
 bled, and he made another strong effort to pull himself to 
 gether before he continued. 
 
 " You will rouse the house," he said presently, " and 
 everyone will hear you. That, from your point of view, 
 would be disadvantageous at the present stage. What do 
 you want ? "
 
 A OUTRANGE 235 
 
 " I ll think about it," Kivers told him. " I might have 
 let you off easy before, but I won t now. You re too pig 
 headed, too high and mighty altogether. I ll take that 
 fifty pounds in the meanwhile. It will help to make my 
 Em ly a little better prepared to sit at your lordship s table." 
 
 " Be careful," Lord Inch told him, warningly. 
 
 " Give me that fifty," Kivers repeated. " I ve only to get 
 hold of the nearest reporter, and tell him what I know, and 
 it would ruin you. You could have me up for it if you 
 chose, and you know you wouldn t. Give me that fifty I 
 say, and I ll think it over before I come round again." 
 
 But whatever Lord Inch s faults might be, want of cour 
 age was certainly not one of them, and the same pride that 
 revolted against the proclamation of a fault a quarter of a 
 century old, rebelled still more against bending to a vulgar 
 bully like the one who stood before him. 
 
 " Understand me," he told Rivers. " Fifty pounds you 
 shall not have to-night, for any threat that you can think of, 
 or utter, or carry out. You fool ! what do you think life or 
 anything else would be worth to me, if I held them at the 
 mercy of such scum as you ? Do you think I have never 
 had such cases to deal with elsewhere ? Do you think I 
 do not know the tricks of your crew, your constant threats 
 and your constant extortions, until the man you haunt is 
 poorer in pocket and in reputation than the most naked 
 truth could have made him ? Here is a sovereign to keep 
 you from stealing for a week. Then come back, and you 
 shall know what I will and what I will not do and you 
 can then act as you choose ! " 
 
 He tossed a sovereign on to the table, whence it fell to 
 the floor, and Rivers groped for it upon his hands and knees, 
 cursing as he crawled. 
 
 " It shall cost you thousands," he swore, as he got up 
 from the floor with the coin, and cursed again when Lord 
 Inch turned from him contemptuously.
 
 236 MB. PETERS 
 
 " You have gone too far," the Judge told him as he re 
 sumed his seat at the desk. " Of two evils I am likely to 
 choose the lesser. Oblige me by touching the bell, and re 
 member that one word too much from you will at once end 
 all negotiations between us." 
 
 Kivers might have power over this man, but he had nei 
 ther the brain nor the nerve to use it profitably just then. 
 He was prepared for nothing except equivocation and de 
 nial. To be defied in that contemptuous and desperate 
 way confounded him utterly. He rang the bell as obediently 
 as any lackey, pouring out threats to which Lord Inch lis 
 tened outwardly unmoved, and which grew lower and lower, 
 as he realized the danger of their being heard by anyone re 
 plying to the signal he had been ordered to make. 
 
 When Morris came, as he did presently, the visitor stood 
 like a thunder-cloud at the mercy of the wind undecided 
 whether to break or be driven farther, while Lord Inch, at 
 his desk, was deep in his papers. 
 
 " Ask Mr. Mclntosh to be kind enough to come up now," 
 Lord Inch told him. And, turning to Kivers, " I will see 
 you next week at the same time if you wish." 
 
 There was no more said. Rivers followed the wondering 
 Morris down the stair, feeling very much as if he had been 
 somehow mastered by a weaker man, and went back to his 
 room cursing all concerned, individually and collectively, 
 Melia not excepted, and swearing that next week s meeting 
 should be very much more profitable. 
 
 Lord Inch laid himself upon the sofa, and spent a few 
 minutes in fighting down his own wild fears of he knew not 
 what; then turning resolutely to the business in hand, he 
 worked his best and his hardest until he could work no 
 more.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 MELIA HAS A NEW CUSTOMER 
 
 WHEN Lord Inch came down to breakfast the next morn 
 ing, he found Archie already in the room, and spoke at once. 
 
 " I had a little talk with the gentleman who is anxious to 
 be your father-in-law," he told him, " but you must wait 
 until I have more time to spare before I can talk to you. 
 Meanwhile I rely upon your honor not to hold any com 
 munication with these people. That is all," and he said 
 nothing more upon that or any other subject. 
 
 Archie having, as he put it dismally to himself, nothing 
 better to do, went off presently to attend lectures, and at ten 
 o clock Lord Inch was in his place in the Justiciary Court. 
 There, however, things went differently from what he had 
 expected. Not that the case for the accused showed any 
 improvement. Far from it. But his counsel, feeling that 
 no common defence was possible, searched heaven and earth 
 and all time for theories, arguments, and appeals. It was all 
 to no purpose, as Lord Inch knew perfectly well. He would 
 have to clear away every wild proposition a few hours hence, 
 and meant to do so without mercy, but in the meanwhile he 
 told himself that it was a man s life at stake, and sat far on 
 into the evening, allowing the prisoner s counsel great lati 
 tude in his evidence, and listening patiently with a faint, 
 almost unrecognized hope, that in the course of his wander 
 ings the advocate might chance upon some point really 
 worth considering. Then, at last, he rose and adjourned the 
 Court. So the prisoner had a night more to hope and to fear 
 in. but, being unimaginative, slept instead, which was quite 
 as good. The jurymen were convoyed away, counsel went
 
 238 MR. PETERS 
 
 home, and Lord Inch, finding that it was a fine evening, 
 sent on his brougham and walked down the Mound alone. 
 
 The day s proceedings had added very little to what he 
 had considered fully the night before. There were one or 
 two wild theories, which would collapse at a word. Mean 
 while he would be glad if, for a time, he could put the matter 
 entirely out of his mind, and an occupation at once occurred 
 to him. Archie had told him where Melia was to be found, 
 and that way he went. 
 
 He ran the risk of meeting Rivers, but Rivers, although 
 Lord Inch did not know it, was quite safe for that evening, 
 and indeed had not been near Melia for the day. Drink 
 was the only consolation for him after the humiliation he 
 had undergone the night before, and in the privacy of his 
 own room he drank and schemed, and schemed and drank, 
 until he could do neither the one nor the other. 
 
 He owed to his dear friend Peters a great part of what he 
 drank, and it was Peters, too, who listened to his muttering, 
 his vague threats, his half-confidences about someone whose 
 name he always held back, but whom he would have down in 
 the mud, or his name was not Rivers. This had lasted far 
 on into the previous night, after his retreat from Drums- 
 heugh Gardens. It began again with little variation the 
 next morning, only he got confused in his maundering 
 before he collapsed, and substituted " Buncombe " for 
 " Rivers," at which the attentive Peters laughed amusedly, 
 but said nothing. Then that morning he had fallen asleep 
 in a drunken stupor, and Peters, after thinking awhile as if 
 not knowing quite what to do, had kicked him very badly, 
 and left him lying where he had rolled. Peters locked the 
 door on the outside, and told Mrs. Jimps, as he went out, 
 that Mr. Rivers wished on no account to be disturbed. 
 
 Rivers therefore had not been outside his room ; for, on 
 waking, he had only risen, aching, from the floor, to reach 
 his bed and fall into a less unnatural slumber ; but Peters
 
 MELIA HAS A NEW CUSTOMER 239 
 
 on leaving him went up to the Parliament House, which of 
 late he had visited often, and sat, attentive, until Lord Inch 
 came away. Then he came too, and followed him closely, 
 though with no particular end in view just then. It pleased 
 him, for reasons of his own, to watch this man s comings 
 and goings, unnoticed and unsuspected. If Lord Inch had 
 turned and looked, he would have seen nothing more than 
 the rather bulky figure of a neatly dressed foreign-looking 
 gentleman, who would have passed him, had he stopped, 
 with a calm face and no sign of interest. 
 
 But Lord Inch neither looked nor suspected. If he had 
 thought of being followed by anyone, Rivers was the only 
 man whom he would have suspected, and that would have 
 been to him a matter of indifference. So he went steadily 
 and rather slowly on, thinking that it was a good thing, 
 after all, that he had faithfully promised Maitland to take a 
 rest with the new year, and that if that scoundrel Eivers 
 came back to worry him again, Maitland should hear it. 
 After all, Maitland was a good fellow, and had lived too long 
 and too wide a life to judge harshly of a fault regretted for a 
 quarter of a century. Was it not said by some that a man 
 changed in every atom each seven years ? Three times 
 seven, and over, say four times seven years had gone by, 
 every year, Lord Inch thought, a year of penitence with at 
 tempts at atonement ; for the man could not help exag 
 gerating the interval, and his own remorse, which had really 
 only reawakened a couple of years ago, just as he exagger 
 ated, let us hope, his own crime, and the danger that he ran 
 of unending shame if Rivers should tell what he knew. Let 
 him, at least, have credit for greater courage than you or I 
 possibly might have shown, had we been in his place, and be 
 lieved as he did; for Lord Inch was doggedly, desperately 
 determined that, come what might, Rivers should not be his 
 master, nor would he let his own trouble come between him 
 and his le<ral duties.
 
 240 MR. PETERS 
 
 He broke off his unpleasant reflections to turn in at 
 Melia s open door, another actor in the drama that was 
 going on so slowly and yet so steadily under the indifferent 
 gaze of the wooden Highlander. Peters, following not far 
 behind, came no farther, but, after waiting for a few min 
 utes to make sure that Lord Inch had not gone in by chance 
 but with some intention, put two and two together with the 
 help of what he had heard during the last twenty-four hours 
 from Rivers, and turned homeward to see what the state of 
 that worthy might be, and to tell him, perhaps, who was his 
 daughter s latest customer.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 AD AVISANDUM 
 
 MELIA had passed a lonely and tearful day. It was one 
 thing to roundly scold an impulsive young man for taking 
 liberties, and quite another thing not to feel entirely de 
 serted in consequence. 
 
 Melia had been honestly angry, and was quite prepared to 
 stand by all that she had said. She was secretly far too fond 
 of Archie to get him into trouble. Still, a two days absence 
 following upon a declaration was not at all according to Life 
 and Love, as set forth in her novels, nor did it at all agree 
 with Melia s own ideas thereon. So she had cried a good 
 deal that day in the little back room, bedewing the red set 
 tee with her tears, and drinking more tea than was good for 
 her in vain attempts to keep up her spirits. Now, naturally, 
 she had a bad headache, and was wishing that she could go 
 home to bed, when the sound of a step in the shop brought 
 her out. 
 
 It was a tired-looking elderly gentleman, with close-cut 
 gray hair and a clean-shaven face, who asked for a good 
 cigar, and leant upon the counter while Melia brought out 
 different boxes from various corners, the dearer-priced 
 cigars not being so commonly in request as mixtures and 
 cigarettes. 
 
 Business is business, as Melia conscientiously felt, and a 
 new customer must be treated properly, whether one had a 
 headache or no. So Melia fetched out a cane-bottomed 
 chair from behind the curtain, and placed it by the counter, 
 so that the gentleman might sit comfortably and turn over 
 the contents of the boxes. 
 
 10
 
 242 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Yes, I m tired," he told her, and seemed grateful to her 
 for thinking of the chair. Then, after he had chosen a box, 
 which he took a long time to do, asking her advice about 
 them as he turned the cigars over, he began to chat of her 
 work instead of going away. 
 
 " You look tired too," he told her, though what made him 
 say that, Melia didn t know, seeing that he was always look 
 ing at the cigars. 
 
 " I ll go home and get to bed soon," she told him. " The 
 place gets on one s nerves at times, sir." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I daresay," agreed the gentleman. " Now, I 
 think I will have a box of those also. You said you could 
 recommend them, did you not ? " 
 
 " They re milder than those you ve got," Melia told him, 
 " and fresh in." 
 
 " Let me see them again," and he pulled this fresh box 
 over, and sniffed at the contents. 
 
 " The box is broken," she pointed out. " It s one short, 
 but if you like them I ve got another box not touched." 
 
 " I should not have counted," said the quiet gentleman, 
 looking at her. 
 
 " You wouldn t need to, if you got em from me," said 
 Melia. 
 
 " Honesty is the best policy, you believe ? " asked her 
 visitor. " May I try one here ? " 
 
 " Oh, certainly," Melia told him, and snipped off the end 
 of the cigar, and held a light to it, so that the tired gentle 
 man needn t rise from the chair. 
 
 " As for honesty," she said, a little dismally, " I don t 
 know if it pays or not. Sometimes it looks like it didn t." 
 
 She blinked tearfully, but the stranger was apparently 
 trying his cigar with great care, and didn t seem to notice 
 her. 
 
 " I m sorry to hear that," he told her. " Your business 
 doesn t prosper then ? "
 
 AD AVISANDUM 243 
 
 " It s not mine," Melia explained, " and I think it s just 
 a fancy of my master s and he can afford it anyway, though 
 I try to make it pay. It wasn t that I was thinking of." 
 
 " Honesty has its reward in the long run," said the quiet 
 gentleman, " if only it gain for its exponent an easy con 
 science." 
 
 " P r aps," said Melia doubtfully, not quite sure whether 
 she understood, " but it s not always easy to say what s 
 honesty. Your cigar s gone out, sir." She gave him an 
 other light. 
 
 " Oh, come now ! " the strange gentleman insisted, after 
 thanking her, " the path of honesty is always quite plain to 
 everyone." 
 
 There was a little hardness or bitterness, something that 
 caught Melia s ear as he spoke, but he was looking at his 
 cigar end, and showed no change of expression that Melia 
 could see. She just shook her head dubiously, and the 
 other noticed it at once. 
 
 " You don t agree with me ? Well, I may be wrong, of 
 course, but I can t think of a case at the moment. I don t 
 think you can either." 
 
 " Oh, there must be lots," Melia insisted, but, upon being 
 challenged, could remember or imagine none but the partic 
 ular instance she had in her mind, which she tried to modify 
 for the occasion, since the quiet gentleman was still quite 
 sure that she couldn t give him an example. 
 
 " S posin ," she suggested at last, " that another young 
 lady, only better off you know, say my master s daughter, 
 wanted to be very friendly, and s posin I felt friendly too, 
 but knew it wasn t for her good, should I show what I feel, 
 or should I pretend I didn t care a fig for her ? " 
 
 " But that s an impossible case, my dear young lady," 
 said the quiet gentleman, watching his cigar go out again 
 without any movement to stop it, " your master s daughter 
 could take no harm from you."
 
 244 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Melia, blushing and blinking 
 again. It was so pleasant to have something kind said when 
 everyone was against her. " Let s say my master s son, then. 
 It s all the easier to say because he hasn t got one that I 
 know of, nor any other men-folk." 
 
 " Ah ! that case is not so easy after all," her visitor ad 
 mitted, and sat staring at the dead ash of his cigar in 
 silence. 
 
 " There, you see, sir, it s easy to think of such a thing," 
 Melia pointed out with an air of melancholy triumph, 
 " though, as I say, it doesn t matter, for there s no such 
 gentleman belonging to my master at all." 
 
 It might not matter, hut Melia s voice sounded rather as 
 if it did. She thought as much, and was glad the gentleman 
 didn t seem to notice things. 
 
 " Supposing our friend the master s son did exist," he 
 asked presently, " have you got a case then ? What would 
 be the good of pretending you had no interest in him, if you 
 were fond of him ? " 
 
 " When you re fond of people you don t want to hurt em, 
 do you ? " asked Melia rather hotly, and the quiet gentle 
 man looked at her rather curiously again. 
 
 " No one ever accused me of being fond of people," he 
 said dryly, and got up to go. " Well," he told her, " the 
 problem of your master s son, who, I will remember, doesn t 
 exist, interests me. I m often consulted in other people s 
 private affairs, but they re mostly arguing their own in 
 terests, and don t say much about those of the other side 
 that sounds as if they cared for them. May I think the 
 thing over and come in again some time ? " 
 
 " Oh, cert nly," said Melia, " and will you take your 
 cigars with you, or shall I leave them at your house ? " 
 
 " You might send them," he began, and then stopped, 
 remembering that it involved giving an address. 
 
 " No, I ll take them with me," he told her, and then
 
 AD AVISANDUM 245 
 
 stopped again, finding that he chanced not to have enough 
 money in his pocket. 
 
 " I haven t enough money to pay for them," he added. 
 "I think I must leave them with you till I come again, 
 since I am a stranger." 
 
 " Oh, that s all right," said Melia reassuringly. " We get 
 to know who s to be trusted. You can take em if you don t 
 mind the trouble. Only you might pay for that one extra, 
 though you haven t half smoked it. You won t light up 
 again, will you ? They say it s horrid to do that with a 
 half-smoked cigar, but still it s a sixpence half wasted, as 
 you may say." 
 
 But her visitor refused to light up again. He laid down 
 a sixpence, and, taking up the two boxes, wished her good 
 night. 
 
 " The case of this gentleman who doesn t exist," he 
 suggested from the doorway, " would not be worth thinking 
 out unless one were quite sure that one wished to do the 
 best thing for him. We must look after ourselves, you 
 know." 
 
 " Oh, quite sure about that," Melia told him, " and you ll 
 come in again if you like the cigars, won t you ? I don t 
 always talk such silly stuff with customers either, and I 
 can t tell why you let me." 
 
 " Good-night. I ll come again," said the quiet gentle 
 man, and, lifting his hat quite politely, stepped out into the 
 darkness. 
 
 " That s a nice sort of gentleman," Melia decided. " Nice 
 and chatty, with no nonsense about him. I d trust him with 
 more than two boxes of cigars. Might as well have had his 
 name though, for all that. What a silly fool I am ! As 
 long as anyone 11 talk, or listen, for the matter of that, I m 
 satisfied. He s made the time pass, anyway, that s one 
 comfort." 
 
 Then she made an entry of the two boxes, leaving the
 
 246 MR. PETERS 
 
 name blank, and was glad to find that her head was not so 
 bad, and that she could close the place in a couple of hours. 
 So, determined not to let herself get dismal again, she took 
 up a book at once to read until she could shut up and go 
 awav " home."
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 MINISTERING TO A MIND DISEASED 
 
 LOED IXCH wont down the street with his two boxes of 
 cigars, feeling rather ashamed. However excellent a man s 
 motive is, he cannot well be proud of having spied upon a 
 girl. 
 
 Melia s friendly way of chatting, and the unsuspicious 
 way in which she let him know just what he wanted, 
 showed the better in contrast with his own methods of pro 
 cedure. 
 
 He had gone there expecting to find a brazen-faced young 
 person who would be ready to deceive him or defy him, 
 whichever she found most easy and most profitable. In 
 stead, here was a pleasant-faced, good-natured girl, whose 
 weak points were probably the result of environment and 
 education, or non-education. It was of no use that he told 
 himself the girl must be a silly fool, to chatter like that with 
 the first stranger who dropped in. Her chatter wouldn t 
 have had the least significance to any other stranger, and 
 Lord Inch felt that her simplicity and honesty had been 
 more apparent than his own during the interview. It was a 
 comfort to know that she would be no consenting party to 
 her father s tricks, and to be sure that, if Rivers could only 
 be cajoled, or thwarted, the whole thing would be settled. 
 It would be quite easy to get a formal note from her, denying 
 that she had the least claim upon the youngster. Lord Inch 
 could remind her, if necessary, not only of her message to 
 him through Archie, but also of this evening s chat. 
 
 She was far too simple to think of denying that Archie
 
 248 MR. PETERS 
 
 was the person whose welfare she was considering so anx 
 iously. 
 
 After all, she seemed a well-meaning girl, and she should 
 be well treated. Lord Inch would call, himself, and talk it 
 over with her, and see that she was not the loser. On second 
 thoughts, since there might be a scene (and it was not 
 pleasant to think of facing her as she discovered who had 
 been her sympathetic customer), he would write, sending a 
 check for the boxes with such a letter as would bring the 
 desired acquittal of Archie. Then her father, how could 
 he be guarded against ? Lord Inch must think that over, 
 say to-morrow night, if he felt able after his work in Court, 
 which he doubted. Maitland might be consulted safely. 
 Maitland never preached, and never set up to be better 
 than other men ; and by the time these thoughts had 
 crossed his mind, Lord Inch was at his own door. 
 
 It was long past their ordinary dinner-hour, and he was 
 told that Mr. Archie, after waiting some time, had taken 
 something to eat and had gone out. 
 
 Lord Inch felt that this was a relief. His work justified 
 a refusal to have any discussion until to-morrow night. 
 He had no wish for dinner, and went straight to his study, 
 giving orders that wine and biscuits should be brought 
 there. 
 
 But he could not get the business off his mind to-night 
 as he had done last night. It kept recurring to him while 
 he sipped his wine, and at last, dreading lest it should really 
 affect the careful consideration of to-morrow s work, he de 
 cided that he must give his confidence to someone a sure 
 way of getting relief. He had promised to let Maitland 
 know if anything followed the type-written letter. To 
 share the secret with a cool-headed friend would be to 
 lessen his troubles, and would clear his mind for his work, 
 which must have undivided attention. 
 
 So he sent round for Maitland, without making any fur-
 
 MINISTERING TO A MIND DISEASED 249 
 
 ther attempt to put off the evil day, which did not now 
 seem altogether evil, and in a quarter of an hour Maitland 
 came. 
 
 kk The writer of that letter has followed it up," Lord Inch 
 explained, directly the servant had left the room. " He s 
 at my throat, Alec." 
 
 " Well," Maitland told him, quietly, " it s a comfort that 
 he s not at your back. Let s hear the whole story and see 
 what s to be done. That s your notion, is it not ? " 
 
 " Yes, it has come to that," Lord Inch told him. " The 
 fact is, I have fought shy of you, Alec, but to-night I have 
 more important matters to think of than how to save my 
 miserable skin, and yet I cannot tackle my work with this 
 thing on my mind. I can try no more ! " 
 
 " Come then," Maitland answered, wheeling the sofa 
 round. " Rest you there. I ve brought my pipe. I may 
 smoke I suppose ? " 
 
 " Of course, do anything you like, so long as you ll bear 
 with me for half an hour, and not be too hard on me 
 after." 
 
 " I m no lawyer ! " Maitland growled under his breath. 
 
 " Eh, what s that ? " Lord Inch asked. 
 
 " Who am I, to be hard on you or any other body ? " 
 Maitland asked more loudly. " Fire away ! " 
 
 So Lord Inch told his story, at first hesitatingly, explain 
 ing, excusing, but afterwards speaking more directly, start 
 ing from the Bonville days, and bringing the tale up to 
 date. He became half apologetic when telling of that even 
 ing s chat with Melia, but he missed nothing of impor 
 tance, and lay back with a sigh of relief when he had fin 
 ished. 
 
 Maitland smoked uninterruptedly through it all, and 
 said nothing until he saw that the story was ended. 
 
 " What like is he, this Bonville friend of yours ? " he 
 asked at the end of it all.
 
 250 MR. PETERS 
 
 " A swaggering bully," Lord Inch told him. " A tallish 
 man with black hair and mustache, and shifty eyes. Calls 
 himself an Oxford man, and dresses like a swell mobsman. 
 He s a broken-down swindler, a low blackguard. Mind you, 
 Maitland, the man shall not rule me. It would be a greater 
 disgrace to be his puppet than to let him say all he could. 
 I ve confessed to you, I ll confess to all the world before 
 that ! " 
 
 " Patience ! We ll manage him," Maitland said sooth 
 ingly, remembering the figure he had looked down upon 
 through the fog from that same room. " What s his own 
 history ? A fellow doesn t begin to be a blackguard at his 
 time of life. He s your age or thereabouts, isn t he ? " 
 
 " He must be, thereabouts," Lord Inch answered, " but 
 what his record is I cannot tell you. I wish I could, though 
 it is not likely that would alter things. If the fellow ac 
 cuses me publicly, Alec, I ll not deny it, though he be fifty 
 times a liar and a scoundrel." 
 
 " D ye think I d advise it ? " Maitland retorted a little 
 hotly, but quieted down at once. " What I mean is, that 
 a scoundrel like that may have something on his conscience 
 that would clear him out of the country at the double, if he 
 thought it was known." 
 
 " I cannot tell," Lord Inch said, gloomily. " I don t 
 remember the man. All Bonville was about, that wretched 
 night. I have not been able to think the thing over yet, 
 since he was here." 
 
 Maitland s attention had just been drawn to the decanter 
 and biscuits on the table, and he pointed to them. 
 
 " What does that mean ? " he asked. 
 
 " I was taking some wine just before you came in. Let 
 me ring for another glass." 
 
 " Not for me. What I want to know is, when did you 
 dine ? " 
 
 " Well, I cannot say that I have had a regular dinner.
 
 MINISTERING TO A MIND DISEASED 251 
 
 It is of no use frowning at me, Maitland, for I could not 
 help it. Work is work." 
 
 " Ay ! and break-down is break-down, as you ll find," 
 Maitland retorted, grimly. " What have you had ? " 
 
 " Well, I had a basin of soup for lunch," Lord Inch told 
 him with an apologetic air, while Maitland scowled very 
 much as an irate dominie might at a careless pupil, " and 
 a cup of tea later." 
 
 " Mere wash ! " Maitland told him, scornfully. " I know 
 what you ll have had. As much nourishment in the soup 
 as in the cup of tea maybe ! " 
 
 " What could I do ? " Lord Inch asked, querulously. 
 " I must keep my head clear. You wouldn t have me snore 
 on the bench, would you, while a man s life was fought for ? 
 If I fed like a pig, I should judge like a pig." 
 
 " If you feed like a woman, you ll judge like one," Mait 
 land snapped at him. " Then, why didn t you have a sen 
 sible meal when you came in ? " 
 
 " I was very late, and I went, as I have told you, to see 
 that girl. I had no appetite after that, and besides I have 
 a great deal to do to-night." 
 
 " How are you to do it ? " Maitland growled. " Man, 
 you re feeding on your own brains. I ll away down to your 
 kitchen presently, and risk the rolling-pin over my head for 
 being a poking old fool who doesn t know his place. Mind, 
 you ll take what comes up ! " 
 
 "Yes, I ll take it," Lord Inch promised him. "But 
 what are we going to do about all this, Alec ? " 
 
 " Nothing to-night," Maitland declared. " I m your 
 confessor and your judge. The whole thing s on my 
 shoulders, and I m away home to smoke a pipe over it, 
 after I ve been to the kitchen." 
 
 He rose and held out his hand. 
 
 " You will shake hands still, then ? " Lord Inch asked. 
 
 " Havers ! " Maitland told him, brusquely. " That comes
 
 252 MR. PETERS 
 
 of dirty water and tea ! D ye want a penance to satisfy 
 your soul before I ve thought it all out, and had another 
 chat with you ? " 
 
 " I will do anything to please you, Alec. It will be little 
 enough, I know, for the trouble you have with me." 
 
 " Be gentle with yon lassie in the tobacconist s then, 
 Inch. It s not for the likes of you or me to visit the sins 
 of the fathers on the children. She s a good lassie, I m 
 thinking." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I believe she is," Lord Inch agreed. " But 
 what would you have me do, Alec ? I mustn t commit 
 myself." 
 
 " Send her a line, man, along with the money for those," 
 pointing to the unopened boxes on the desk. " Sign it with 
 your own name, and tell her you ll be round again at the 
 week end. Let her know it s private, and if she s the girl 
 you and Archie have found her, she won t let a soul know, 
 and she ll respect you all the more." 
 
 " Very well, to please you," said Lord Inch. " I must not 
 commit myself, but I ll do that, Maitland. The girl is a 
 good girl, and I don t bear her any malice. What she sees 
 in the boy, I don t know." 
 
 " Man," said Maitland, impatiently, " do you think he 
 shows himself to you as he does to her ? The boy s right 
 enough." 
 
 " It is possible the girl is," Lord Inch allowed. " She 
 might be the making of him, if she had been of decent 
 people, with a little money of her own. Even as it is, I 
 wonder at her fancy. It is partly his position, I suppose." 
 
 " I never met the man yet," said Maitland, " who wasn t 
 concerned at the unspeakable blindness of the women-folk 
 towards other men. As for his station, d ye think she d 
 be so ready to let him go, if that was all ? " 
 
 Then, " Havering again, you old fool ! " he muttered to 
 himself, as he made for the door, turning for a last word
 
 MINISTERING TO A MIND DISEASED 253 
 
 when he reached it. " Now this business is off your con 
 science, Inch, and it has become my affair, I ll think it out, 
 and see you before that blackguard calls for you again. 
 Mind that line to the lassie, and see that you follow cook s 
 orders. She ll get them from me." 
 
 He left, and presently some light food came up, with 
 directions from the doctor that he was to take it quietly, 
 and not to begin work for half an hour. Also that there 
 would be something ready for him to take before going to 
 bed. So Lord Inch meekly did as he was told, and then 
 worked away at his papers until far into the night. Then 
 he wrote a little note, inclosing a check, to Melia, and, 
 addressing it, put it inside the desk ; and Morris, in the 
 small hours, patient because of a word that Maitland had 
 had with him, brought up something more from the 
 kitchen, and Lord Inch, with a sigh of relief as he thought 
 of the sharer of his secret, went to his bed. 
 
 As he passed along the corridor he saw a light in the 
 smoking-room, and hesitated at the door. 
 
 Archie must be there, and, if he went in, something 
 would be said of the day s doings. The boy must wait. 
 
 He went softly a little way past the door and along the 
 passage, then stopped again. The silly fellow must be sit 
 ting up on the chance of seeing him, and, having heard 
 nothing, would wait longer. After all, the youngster had 
 been patient. It was enough to try to court sleep that night 
 burdened with one man s unspoken fate, though that man 
 was a criminal. 
 
 The boy, who at any rate was no criminal, should wait 
 no longer, and Lord Inch turned back. 
 
 He pushed the smoking-room door open quietly, and 
 went in. 
 
 By the ashes of a burnt-out fire, fast asleep, with his 
 yellow head resting on the table, his pipe lying where it 
 had fallen upon the floor, lay Archie. His father stood
 
 254 MR. PETERS 
 
 over him, watching gravely for a moment before speaking. 
 Archie was sleeping so soundly now, his face was so quiet 
 and untroubled, that Lord Inch felt sorry to wake him, and 
 did so gently enough. 
 
 The boy started up, rubbing his eyes. 
 
 " Hullo ! I didn t hear you, father. What s the time ? " 
 
 He looked at the clock, and then at Lord Inch again. 
 
 " Two o clock, and you re not in bed ! What ll Dr. Mait- 
 land say to this ? He told me you wanted rest more than 
 anything." 
 
 " Never mind me," Lord Inch told him, surprised that 
 Archie should think of him at all. " It is time you were in 
 bed too. We will both go after we have had a talk." 
 
 " Not now," Archie declared. " I saw Maitland after he 
 left you, and promised I d not see you to-night." 
 
 " Then, for what are you waiting ? " Lord Inch asked 
 incredulously. 
 
 " Oh, well, I thought I might as well stay up a bit," 
 Archie told him in rather a shamefaced way. " I got think 
 ing," and Lord Inch, who, a week ago, would have sneered 
 at the suggestion of thought from Archie, now said noth 
 ing. He had no idea that Archie was there because Mait 
 land had told him to keep an eye upon his father that night, 
 and see that he got quietly off to bed when his work was 
 done. 
 
 " He shall drop work directly this trial is over," Maitland 
 had told Archie on the doorstep. " Promise me, laddie, 
 that he goes straight to his bed and talks of nothing to 
 night." 
 
 So Archie promised, and had been paying half -hourly 
 visits to the study key-hole until he fell asleep. 
 
 "Well," Lord Inch said, curious, perhaps, to see how 
 far Archie s self-control went, " I called on Miss Kivers 
 to-day." 
 
 " You did ! "
 
 MINISTERING TO A MIND DISEASED 255 
 
 " I did," said Lord Inch. " She s a good girl, I believe, 
 Archie, and a sensible girl. I ve great respect for her. 
 But- 
 
 He was going to seat himself in the easy-chair from which 
 Archie had risen, and to explain matters, who knows ho\v 
 far, but Archie stopped him, having Maitland s warnings 
 still fresh in his memory. 
 
 " I m glad to hear it, father/ he said, trying to speak 
 quietly. " You can see she s pretty too, and she s as good 
 as she s pretty. You ll like her more the more you know of 
 her. We can t talk of that now though. You must go to 
 bed. Maitland said so." 
 
 Lord Inch stared incredulously, but Archie persisted. 
 
 " Doctor s orders," he told his father quietly, and Lord 
 Inch gave way, wondering sleepily where the boy got that 
 new authoritative manner, and where his own will had gone. 
 Perhaps the brew of hot wine, brought up half an hour 
 before from the kitchen, had something to do with it. At 
 anyrate, he did not argue the point, but went to his 
 room, wishing Archie a more affectionate good-night than 
 usual at the door ; and Archie went off, being wide awake 
 now, to smoke another pipe, and wonder, uselessly, about 
 his father s interview with Melia.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 LABOR IN VAIN 
 
 WHEN Mr. Peters had satisfied himself that Lord Inch 
 was not merely a chance customer for Melia, he went back 
 to the House of Residence much more quickly than usual. 
 Still, as he went, he found breath enough to hum the quaint 
 little tune which was, for him, significant of certain trains 
 of thought. The air was a common one, still heard, occa 
 sionally, on old barrel-organs. " bianca e fredda " (Oh, 
 pale and cold), Mr. Peters hummed, and his thoughts trav 
 elled across the sea as his voice rose. 
 
 Going up the stairs, he felt in his pocket for the key of 
 Rivers room, and laughed. 
 
 " The good Rivers will be hungry, to despair," he told 
 himself, and seemed pleased at the notion, which, however, 
 was not correct. 
 
 He found Rivers crouched over the fire, sober enough 
 now, but not at all hungry, and with a splitting headache 
 that made him quite useless to Peters. 
 
 That gentleman saw the state of things, but spoke un 
 concernedly. 
 
 " My poor Rivers," he said, " you are hungry ? " 
 
 " I m not," Rivers told him sullenly, " but I m as sore as 
 if I had been beaten like a carpet." 
 
 " It will be rheumatism," suggested Peters. " You would 
 sleep on the floor, but now you are better, and should take 
 exercise. Will you not come out ? " 
 
 " Not I ! " Rivers told him, with an oath. " This cli 
 mate s killing me. I ll go back to the States. I wish I was 
 dead ! "
 
 LABOR IN VAIN 25? 
 
 This aspiration amused Peters beyond measure. He 
 shouted with laughter, and paid not the slightest atten 
 tion to the other, who, growing angry, cursed him effu 
 sively. 
 
 " The good Eivers is ready for Heaven," he announced, 
 " but we cannot let him go yet. What a pity that he can 
 not take the place of the man who will be told to-morrow 
 that he must die ! " 
 
 He still laughed, but there was nothing about his face to 
 provoke laughter in others. It had the effect of silencing 
 the curses of Rivers, who looked at him with a maudlin 
 puzzled air. 
 
 " What are you laughing about ? " he asked. " Who 
 must die ? " 
 
 " Oh, no one who matters," Peters told him ; " they say 
 that at the Court to-morrow a man will be told that he 
 shall die for killing someone. That is all. It is just, is it 
 not ? You are a scholar, my good Rivers. Teach a poor 
 foreigner ! What is it your Scripture tells you ? Whoso 
 ever slayeth How does it go ? " 
 
 " Whosoever sheddeth man s blood, by man shall his 
 blood be shed, " Rivers told him, and bent nearer the fire, 
 shivering. 
 
 " Ah ! that is just," Peters agreed, and then sat down 
 and bent over the fire too, as if cold, leaning forward until 
 his face was close to Rivers face. 
 
 "That is just," he repeated, "and so it is certain that 
 is what the Just Judge will tell him to-morrow." 
 
 He watched, but Rivers had never heard of the Just 
 Judge, and made no movement except to rub his hands, 
 and then stretch them towards the blaze. 
 
 " Who was that pretty boy we drank with two nights ago, 
 my good Rivers ? " he asked suddenly. 
 
 " Mr. Archibald Inch," Rivers told him, his bemuddled 
 brain still occupied with his own thoughts. 
 
 17
 
 258 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Ah, it will be his father, then, who is the Just Judge," 
 Peters observed quietly, and it was now Eivers turn to 
 laugh, as he twisted round. 
 
 " Is that what they call him ? " he sneered. 
 
 " Yes. Why not ? " asked Peters placidly, and Rivers 
 sneered again. 
 
 " The Just Judge ! " he repeated ; " why, I could tell 
 you things that I may tell you some day, but not now," 
 and with that he lapsed into silence, and brooded over the 
 fire, while Peters watched him. 
 
 " They are rich, are they not ? " Peters asked presently. 
 " It will be good for your daughter to have the family Inch 
 for customers, is it not so ? " 
 
 " Perhaps Archie will be a good customer in the end," 
 said Rivers, with a grin. 
 
 " And the father," asked Peters, innocently, " does he 
 go to Miss Rivers for his tobacco ? " 
 
 " He doesn t go there at all," Rivers said. " What do 
 you mean ? " 
 
 " I saw him there to-night," Peters told him, and with an 
 oath Rivers started from his chair. 
 
 For a moment Peters, who had quite given up hope 
 of rousing the man, and was only amusing himself in his 
 own peculiar way, really thought that he was going out, 
 and, laughing to himself, he determined to follow and see 
 what was to be seen. But Rivers sank back into his chair 
 almost at once, too muddled for any prompt action. 
 
 " I have not seen Miss Rivers since we had our most 
 merry meeting," Peters suggested, frowning a little. 
 " Shall we pay our respects ? " 
 
 " You can go if you like," Rivers told him, turning his 
 back and crouching over the fire again. " Give my com 
 pliments to Lord Inch if you find him there, and say that 
 I shall do myself the honor of seeing him soon. Good 
 night ! "
 
 LABOR IN VAIN 259 
 
 " The good Rivers ! " Peters soliloquized in the softest of 
 voices, standing over him and smiling down. " He turns 
 me out ! Ah, well. Good-night, my Rivers ! I will pay 
 my respects, and yours, to your daughter, and to Lord Inch 
 if I am not too late," and he went away without remember 
 ing, or at anyrate seeming to care, that he, too, had eaten 
 no dinner. 
 
 As he passed down, Mrs. Jimps opened her door, and 
 beckoned him in. 
 
 " I ve the tenderest steak, Captain Peters, kept ready to 
 send up to your room. You aren t going out again surely ! 
 Think ! A rump-steak and fried potatoes." 
 
 Mrs. Jimps smiled upon him bewitchingly, and at the 
 same time with a touch of melancholy, as of one with hppe 
 deferred, but Mr. Peters was obdurate. 
 
 " I am away," he told Mrs. Jimps. " I have no heart for 
 food, my best Mrs. Jimps." 
 
 " How is that, Captain Peters ? " Mrs. Jimps asked 
 tremulously, feeling that the question might seem intru 
 sive, the causes for loss of appetite being so various. But 
 Mr. Peters would not gratify her curiosity. He said merely 
 that he hoped to be better very soon now, and went on his 
 way, leaving Mrs. Jimps to wonder, in solitude, whether 
 anything she could say would be likely to expedite a cure.
 
 MR. PETERS MAKES A PROMISE 
 
 Do what she would, Melia could not settle down to her 
 book that night, after her sympathetic new customer had 
 left. Why hadn t Archie, or her father, or even Cap n 
 Peters been in ? If it had not been for Rivers strict com 
 mands that Melia was never to call for him at the House 
 of Residence, she would have made up her mind to go there 
 on her way home. As it was, she was the more restless 
 because she couldn t go. There was a high wind that 
 night, and it made itself heard even in this back street, 
 whistling about the keyholes, and moaning down the chim 
 ney of Melia s little back-room, now and then puffing out 
 a cloud of smoke, and making her uncomfortable, as well 
 as more nervous and melancholy than ever. 
 
 She was beginning to wonder whether, after all, to have 
 a good cry wouldn t be the most profitable way of passing 
 the last half-hour before closing the shop. She was begin 
 ning to feel, too, that she had very little choice but to cry, 
 when Peters came in, and had a hearty welcome. 
 
 " I thought you d all forgotten me ! " Melia told him, 
 and then wondered how much he knew of her last encounter 
 with Archie and her father. " Where s father ? " she de 
 manded. 
 
 " He has a cold," Peters explained, " and sits by the fire 
 with a hot something-to-drink." 
 
 At this Melia was no better satisfied. She fidgeted a 
 little, looking at Peters and looking away again, but spoke 
 at last. 
 
 " I want to talk to you, straight," she told him. " You 
 and I are friends, aren t we ? If I want you to sit still an
 
 MR. PETERS MAKES A PROMISE 261 
 
 listen, I must make you comfortable, go s you ll be patient. 
 Come inside an sit down. I don t think there s any smoke 
 to speak of in there now." 
 
 Peters looked at her, wondering what she was going to 
 say, but made no answer, and, following her behind the 
 curtain, sat down upon the old red settee, which creaked 
 under his weight. 
 
 " I can speak plain ? " Melia asked. " We are friends, 
 ain t we ? " and waited, somewhat to Peters surprise, for 
 an answer. 
 
 " How can I tell ? " he said at last, shrugging his shoul 
 ders. " A very clever man told me, when I was so high," 
 and he held his cigar some four feet from the ground, " that 
 our friends are those who are useful. Am I useful ? " 
 
 " Why, yes ! " Melia told him, indignantly, " course you 
 are. Didn t you teach me to bike, and ain t you a friend of 
 father s ? I don t like your clever men s savin s though. 
 They re like lemonade with the sugar left out. Maybe very 
 healthy, and maybe not, I can t tell. But there s a nasty 
 sharp taste. Judgin by that, I m no friend o yours. I m 
 never of no use to no one, unless it s those who pay me to 
 do this job. I ve done nothin for you." 
 
 " Pardon ! a great deal," Peters assured her solemnly. 
 " You introduce me to your excellent father, the good 
 Eivers, a gentleman of Oxford, and to that clever and 
 amiable young gentleman, Mr. Archie. They are to me 
 the wanderer, the homeless man as equals. We drink to 
 gether like brothers." 
 
 " That s just it ! " Melia interrupted. " That s what I 
 want to talk about. There was a lot too much of it two 
 nights ago, Oap n Peters, and I can t have it here again." 
 
 " Did I drink too much ? " Peters asked, quietly. 
 
 " No, Cap n Peters, I don t say as you did," Melia told 
 him apologetically. " But Mr. Inch did. He came round 
 an said so."
 
 262 MR. PETERS 
 
 " That was foolish of him," Peters suggested. " Why did 
 he come round and say that ? " 
 
 " AVell," Melia said, carefully smoothing a crease out of 
 the red table-cloth, " I s pose he thought I d like to know 
 he was sorry." 
 
 Peters watched, smoking his cigar in silence, until the 
 crease was thoroughly disposed of, and Melia looked up at 
 him. She dropped her eyes again, however, on meeting 
 his. 
 
 " And the good Rivers," he asked presently, " has he been 
 round to say that he had too much, and is sorry ? " 
 
 " Now, Cap n Peters, I won t be talked to in that tone of 
 voice," Melia told him, sharply. " No, it s no use," she 
 went on, as Peters seemed inclined to protest, " I won t, 
 and so I tell you. It may be my foolishness, but there s 
 times when I think you re foolin me. My father s my 
 father, and I won t have him laughed at. So, there ! " 
 
 If I laughed to you at your father, I did foolishly," said 
 Peters, and Melia was pacified. 
 
 " I want to talk to you about im," she went on, " now 
 we understand one another, and I can trust you." 
 
 " My clever friend," Mr. Peters told her, " said he could 
 trust no one." 
 
 " Pore chap ! " said Melia, pityingly, " he must ave ad 
 a time, but we can t help that. Now, about father. You 
 know I don t scarcely know him better than you do." 
 
 " I know," Peters agreed readily. 
 
 " And I m kept a prisoner in this place too," said Melia, 
 looking round with a shrug. " Now, I wish you d help me 
 with him, Cap n Peters." 
 
 " How ? " asked Peters. 
 
 " Well, you know, p r aps he s told you, and I can trust 
 you anyway. He s got some business here, Cap n Peters. 
 I don t know what it is, but he says he s goin to make a lot 
 of money."
 
 MR. PETERS MAKES A PROMISE 263 
 
 " I know," Peters told her, nodding. 
 
 " Well, if he did that," said Melia, cheering up at the 
 thought of it, and putting Archie out of the question, at 
 anyrate for the moment, " course I d leave the shop, I 
 s pose, and look after him ? " 
 
 She looked at Peters for approval, and he nodded. 
 
 " As things is are, I mean, I can t," she went on. 
 " Now, you re a big strong man, and when you make up 
 your mind to a thing, you ll do it, won t you ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Peters,- without any hesitation. 
 
 " Well, I want you to keep him out of mischief for me. 
 Will you ? " she continued. " There s been bad times for 
 both of us, you know, and bein a gentleman, well, he feels 
 more of a difference than me, who ve never had things 
 much different, except for mother. Maybe in lively com 
 pany, like t other night, he drinks a bit. I don t know, but 
 if he does, it s to drown things, as you may say." 
 
 " It is possible," Mr. Peters allowed. 
 
 " Well, will you help me ? " Melia demanded. " I d 
 do a good turn for you if I could, Cap n Peters." 
 
 " Help, how ? " 
 
 " Keep an eye on him, so that he doesn t get into 
 trouble," Melia suggested, " and see if you can help to 
 settle his business." 
 
 " That is all you want me to promise ? " asked Peters, 
 rising and stretching to his full height, with his hands 
 above his head as if cramped. " That is all ? " 
 
 " That s all ! " said Melia, after reflection, " and very 
 kind of you, too, Cap n Peters, if you ll take the trouble." 
 
 " To keep an eye on him," repeated Peters, " and to help 
 to finish his business as quickly as possible ? " 
 
 " So as I may take care of him," added Melia. " Will 
 you do it ? " 
 
 " Yes," Peters promised. " I will always keep an eye on 
 him, and help to finish his business as quickly as possible,"
 
 264 MR. PETERS 
 
 and he added some words that Melia didn t understand. 
 " It is an oath," he explained. " I wish all evil may come 
 to me if I break it." 
 
 " That s the way, I ve read in books, with you foreign 
 gentlemen," said Melia, with regret. " It s not English 
 you know, and I don t know as I like it so well." 
 
 Mr. Peters shrugged his shoulders, and, seeming to think 
 he heard someone in the shop, pushed aside the curtain and 
 stood looking out. 
 
 " There is no one there," Melia assured him. " I m that 
 used to all the noises, that I d know in a jiffy. Come now, 
 none o your foreign swears over this little job. 1 give 
 it you back. Say yes, and shake hands on it, English 
 fashion ? " 
 
 Mr. Peters, still looking out into the shop, and not 
 speaking very clearly, assured her that it was " yes " a 
 thousand times, but did not turn round, and seemed to be 
 unaware of her outstretched hand. 
 
 He began asking her about her day s work, whether the 
 business was improving fast, and what customers had been 
 in that evening. But he began to move out almost as he 
 spoke, and got beyond the curtain before Melia realized 
 that he was going. 
 
 " What s the hurry ? " she asked. 
 
 " I m hungry," he told her, over his shoulder. " Talking 
 makes me hungry. G ood-night to you, I am going." 
 
 Sure enough, he was not only going, but gone, before 
 Melia reached the door. 
 
 " There s a queer man ! " she soliloquized, watching un 
 til he passed under a lamp and disappeared in the shadows 
 beyond. " Talkin makes Mm ungry ! Wy, I b lieve twas 
 me did the talkin. P r aps he meant listening. Or p r aps 
 he was sick of it. My, Sandy ! " (addressing the mull- 
 offering gentleman at her side), " it s long after eleven, and 
 a good thing he s gone anyway. If he d stayed on, I d have
 
 MR. PETERS MAKES A PROMISE 265 
 
 chattered no end. I expect you re the only safe one to hear 
 about one s young man, ain t you ? Come awa ben, then ! " 
 
 This invitation was Melia s only attempt at the vernac 
 ular,, and was never addressed to anyone save Sandy. She 
 wheeled him into the shop, and made a prettier picture than 
 she knew of, as she went on tiptoe, and bestowed a kiss upon 
 the unmoved face. 
 
 " There ! go to sleep, dearie," she told him. " I ll away 
 home to my supper and bed, like Cap n Peters," and five 
 minutes later she was scurrying down the street, trying not 
 to worry any more just then about Archie. Thinking grate 
 fully, too while a rude wind whistled about her ankles, 
 and played pranks with her petticoats what a good thing 
 it was that Cap n Peters had promised to keep an eye on 
 her father, and wondering whether the pair would have 
 a chat that night, after Cap n Peters had got something to 
 eat. 
 
 But, that night, Peters neither took anything to eat, nor 
 saw her father. He did not even go straight back to the 
 House of Residence. The promise exacted by Melia had 
 been given by him in a very different spirit from that in 
 which she had asked it, and Peters, thinking over that and 
 other affairs, which were creeping to their settlement all too 
 slowly, felt himself getting beyond control. He would walk 
 it off, he thought, and hurried away against the wind. But 
 he only went, scarcely conscious, as far as Drumsheugh 
 Gardens, where he passed and repassed No. 45, attracted, 
 time after time, by the steady light in Lord Inch s study, 
 until at last he remembered that there would be danger in 
 drawing the attention of the constable on the beat, and 
 returned, cursing, to his room. 
 
 But there, too, torment awaited him. Before he reached 
 his own door he could hear Rivers, snoring in the room 
 opposite. Twice he touched the handle of that opposite 
 door, and twice he drew away. Then with a sudden effort
 
 266 MR. PETERS 
 
 he tramped noisily into his own room, and, slamming the 
 door behind him, locked it and threw the key, anywhere, 
 so long as it was out of his sight. 
 
 He took down the long-stemmed, small-bowled pipe from 
 the mantel-piece, and, filling it hurriedly, began to smoke 
 even before he drew a chair to the fire, as though he could 
 no longer live or breathe without the drug. He knew it to 
 be a dangerous remedy. He knew that in exchange for 
 present peace he would have greater temptation later, with 
 a weakened will to withstand it; but the need was urgent, 
 and he smoked on desperately. Things might have gone 
 otherwise had he been able to restrain himself that night. 
 Whether they would have gone better, is another question. 
 He smoked on and on, until his limbs, big as they were, 
 could not have carried him across the room. Yet either 
 because he miscalculated his dose or because of a long fast 
 although the body seemed to sleep, stretched out in the 
 easy-chair before a dying fire, the brain was more active 
 than ever. Gorgeous schemes, stupendous ideas, floated 
 before him, while no difficulty was imagined but what it 
 was overcome by a single effort of the tremendous will of 
 which he found himself suddenly possessed. He was the 
 autocrat of autocrats that night. All the earth was his for 
 a footstool, and its inhabitants were worms in the dust be 
 fore him. The cold wintry dawn found Mr. Peters shiver 
 ing before an empty grate, and promising himself that 
 never, at least until he had done all that he came to do, 
 would he be such a weak fool again. But it was too late.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 VOX, ET PK^TEBBA NIHIL ! 
 
 IT was a gray morning that opened over the gray, cold 
 city. The sky gave warning of snow, and the chill east 
 wind told the same tale. 
 
 Lord Inch felt the influence of the weather as he drove 
 up to the Parliament House that morning alone in his 
 brougham, meeting the day s work with a face as gray as 
 the sky, and as cold. 
 
 He thought of the prisoner who would presently front 
 him in the dock, and had a grim satisfaction in imagining 
 that surely, on such a day as this, with winter just upon us, 
 it could not be so hard to hear that one must die as it would 
 be when summer was felt through the land. 
 
 The Parliament House, too, was cold and shadowy. Gas 
 glimmered in the corridors and in the Courts, with patches 
 of light here and seas of shadow there, but all cold and 
 hard. 
 
 When everyone rose at the macer s cry, as Lord Inch 
 came in and took his seat, some faces stood out sharply 
 denned, while others were vague and blurred, and the 
 Judge, peering into the shadows, presently found himself 
 wondering if his private troubles would dog him in his 
 public capacitv. 
 
 There was no face that he knew, save those already 
 familiar either in connection with the Courts or with this 
 particular case, and having satisfied himself of that, as well 
 as the light allowed, Lord Inch was ashamed at his own 
 weakness, and bent all his attention to the speech of the 
 prosecuting counsel. He already understood that he would
 
 268 MR. PETERS 
 
 be able to sum up a little after mid-day, and intended to 
 finish before lunch, lie felt that the sooner it was over 
 the better for all concerned. The verdict could be brought 
 in at once, and then he would go home and try to make up 
 for the long hours of the last few days, while the prisoner 
 there in the dock ! 
 
 The Solicitor-General was driving nails into the fellow s 
 coffin with cold precision. The man himself, dull as he was, 
 seemed to feel it, and Lord Inch saw him breathe deeply 
 and look round as though he felt Death s hand upon his 
 shoulder, and found no one to help him. 
 
 The faces of the fifteen jurymen hardened, as they, too, 
 saw clearly what was to be done, and braced themselves to 
 do it. When the accuser sat down Lord Inch sighed, partly 
 from relief. There would be very little left for him to say 
 after that. Then he changed his position, and faced the 
 counsel for the defence. 
 
 The latter did not take very long. There was no hope in 
 denying the crime. He dwelt upon the imagined provoca 
 tion, upon the awful responsibility of condemning a fellow- 
 man to die, upon the weak barrier, not of their own raising, 
 which the best of men had sometimes found to be all that 
 stood between them and like crimes. Let them be merciful, 
 he begged, as they hoped for mercy ; then he sat down, 
 thankful that it was over, and feeling sure, from the fifteen 
 set faces opposite, that his words had been useless. 
 
 There was a rustle and a low hum through the Court, as 
 people shifted in their seats and settled themselves to hear 
 Lord Inch s summing up. While he glanced at his notes 
 before addressing the jury, there was a slight scuffle in the 
 body of the Court, caused by a man forcing himself into 
 what he thought would be a better position. One, whose 
 foot was trodden upon as the fellow pushed by, complained 
 loudly, and Lord Inch, looking up with a frown, saw who it 
 was that caused all the commotion. It was Rivers.
 
 VOX, ET PR. ETEREA NIHIL! 269 
 
 He had fought into the place he wanted, and sat facing 
 Lord Inch with a stupid leer of recognition, in which the 
 latter thought he saw an open threat. Had he the foolish 
 presumption to imagine that, by sitting there, forcing him 
 self into notice, as Lord Inch saw he did, he could disturb 
 a judge at his work ? Did the rascal think him so weak a 
 man as that ? For a few seconds they stared across at one 
 another, Rivers simply smiling, Lord Inch pale with anger, 
 while those around wondered why his lordship delayed. 
 Should he order the fellow to be turned out ? He thought 
 of doing so, and then put the idea aside as contemptible. 
 The scoundrel should see how little he could do after all ; 
 and Lord Inch faced the jury again, and directed them as to 
 their duty in this matter. 
 
 Men said, afterwards, that never had they known the Just 
 Judge to be so pitiless. None of them knew that, to the 
 man upon the bench, it seemed as if he saw before him 
 though he never turned to look at Rivers again a sneering 
 face which dared him to do his duty. His voice sounded 
 solemnly through the hushed Court, every word falling- 
 separately and distinctly. He pointed out the unfounded 
 nature of the jealousy which was the prisoner s sole excuse, 
 the relentless and cold-blooded brutality with which the 
 crime was accompanied, the absence of all sign of remorse 
 after it. He put all suggestions of mercy relentlessly 
 aside. 
 
 " We are not here," he told them, " to be merciful, but to 
 be just, acting in accordance with the laws of our country. 
 What will follow upon your verdict must in nowise concern 
 you, provided that verdict is according to your conscience, 
 as it undoubtedly will be. Think of the consequences to 
 the prisoner at the bar only in so far as it is needful to make 
 you weigh the evidence carefully and impartially. It is for 
 you, as for everyone else concerned in this case, myself in 
 cluded, to do your duty, each man with a solemn sense of his
 
 270 MR. PETERS 
 
 responsible position, but otherwise careless of all conse 
 quences, whether to himself or to another." 
 
 He turned for a moment from the jury, and looked across 
 the Court as though something had disturbed him, but not 
 a soul there spoke or stirred, and, turning to the jury-box 
 once more, Lord Inch for an instant spoke in another strain. 
 
 It was their duty, he told them, to give a verdict in accord 
 ance with the facts which had been so plainly laid before 
 them. But if, in their opinion, the evidence had not been, 
 beyond all doubt, satisfactory and conclusive, then it was 
 equally their duty to say so. There was, he reminded them, 
 a legitimate manner of expressing their doubts. To do so, 
 if doubt they had, was no act of mercy ; it was the merest 
 justice. Let them now retire, and consider their verdict as 
 it behoved men to do who, all their lives, sat under the 
 shadow of death, and knew not when they themselves would 
 be called to judgment. 
 
 The jury filed away, and Lord Inch, rising, passed 
 through one of the doors behind him, and went to his own 
 room, to wait there until he should be summoned to hear 
 the verdict. The trial had taken place in the Justiciary 
 Court, in which Donald Dee had shown the Judge to Lucius 
 and his party, and Lord Inch, in going away, passed through 
 the glass door with the bull s-eye through which they had 
 watched him. 
 
 He never looked back across the Court after he had 
 summed up. He never cast eyes on Rivers again ; he never 
 glanced up at the gallery, where a more sinister figure now 
 stood. If he had looked, it would have made no difference, 
 for it was Mr. Peters who stood frowning down upon him, 
 and Lord Inch knew nothing of Mr. Peters. So he passed 
 away to his room, and sat before the fire trying to prepare 
 himself for what must presently be done, while his clerk, 
 who thought there never had been and never would be such 
 another man, hovered a little in the background, fearful of
 
 VOX, ET PR.CTEREA NIHIL! 271 
 
 disturbing his lordship s thoughts, but very anxious to know 
 whether lie would not take some of the specially prepared 
 soup, sent up from the house by Dr. Maitland s direction. 
 
 But Lord Inch, when he saw what was offered, waved it 
 aside angrily, and then apologized. 
 
 " Presently, perhaps, when this business is over," he told 
 his clerk. " It is good of you to think of it, Macintosh ; and 
 you must not notice my ways to-day. It is a sad business, 
 but they won t be long over it, and no more will I." 
 
 The other drew back, watching secretly from the other 
 end of the little room, and careful not to distract his lord 
 ship further from the solemn words which, he did not 
 doubt, were being considered. 
 
 But his lordship was not thinking of any such thing. 
 His thoughts had turned to Eivers, and his reappearance in 
 Court, with his probable or possible intentions in coming. 
 Would he make any further disturbance there ? If so, he 
 should have no further forbearance shown him, come what 
 might. 
 
 The train of thought concerning the fellow, this black 
 guard who called himself an Oxford man, went on uncon 
 sciously, stirring long dormant cells maybe, and at least 
 rousing old memories. How it was Lord Inch did not know, 
 but suddenly he remembered the man ! The whole scene 
 came up again. He saw the prisoner with Buncombe now 
 Rivers at his side. He saw the judge in the blaze of the 
 smoking pine-knots, sitting with his rifle across his knees 
 as he pointed up to a dangling rope. He heard the trivial 
 yet haunting song of the doomed man as he laughed with his 
 face to the moon, and a moment later he saw the thing 
 that had been a man twist and swing in the moonlight. 
 
 Then he heard the bell ring, intimating that the jury had 
 decided on their verdict, and, rising, he made his way into 
 the Court again. 
 
 Meanwhile Eivers, who had come with no definite inten-
 
 272 MR. PETERS 
 
 tion except to annoy his victim, no longer wished to do so. 
 The proceedings of the last half-hour had sobered him, and 
 Lord Inch had frightened him badly. Not only was he con 
 scious how small his power was over that stern, cold figure 
 on the bench, but he felt, as he had never felt before, that 
 the Law wanted him, and that any move of his which drove 
 Lord Inch to search into his history, might end in his stand 
 ing before the Judge, charged with the crime that was be ing- 
 considered now. He was so tormented with this idea, that 
 he felt as if branded in the face, and, rather than meet Lord 
 Inch s eye again, would have left the Court, but those whom 
 he had annoyed in passing would not let him move again, 
 and Rivers sat with his head bent, wishing for the end of the 
 scene. 
 
 What had passed had quite a different effect upon Peters, 
 looking down from the gallery. 
 
 The effects of his night s drugging had not yet worn off, 
 and he had chuckled audibly, to the scandal of the man next 
 him, as Lord Inch summed up. Then, when the jury re 
 tired, he stood and brooded contemptuously over the whole 
 thing. Was this justice, that a man with such a past as Lord 
 Inch s should sit and judge and sentence other men ? The 
 more he thought over it, the more absurd it seemed. It was 
 so absurd that he felt Lord Inch must see it, and that every 
 one else would if he told them. Then they would put his 
 lordship, in his solemn wig and great robes with the big red 
 crosses, into the dock, and perhaps they would put the 
 prisoner on the bench, to judge him. 
 
 Just then the jury came back, and then through one of 
 the two doors with the bull s-eye windows, which Peters 
 recognized came Lord Inch, and passed, gray-faced and 
 solemn, to his seat. 
 
 Then a great anger came upon the man in the gallery. 
 If he stayed there he must shout, and there would be trouble 
 and interference with his business.
 
 VOX, ET PR^ETEREA NIHIL ! 273 
 
 He turned, and forced his way out through the dozen or 
 so of people between him and the door, who paid no atten 
 tion, for the foreman of the jury was giving the verdict. 
 
 It was " Guilty," and the strain was nearly at an end now. 
 A moment later Lord Inch, with a face that grew grayer and 
 grayer as he spoke, told the prisoner at the bar what would 
 follow. He would he taken from that place to another, and 
 on such and such a day he would be hanged by the neck un 
 til he was dead, and might God have mercy upon his soul. 
 
 Every word was distinct, but the voice sank and sank, 
 lower and lower, to the end, so that, at the last, attention 
 was strained to the uttermost, and the slightest sound was 
 heard. 
 
 It was then that a curious thing happened. 
 
 As one of the newspaper reporters hurried away with the 
 verdict, and swung open a small side door, there came from 
 the corridor the sound of a song. No man afterwards could 
 say that he recognized it, and elsewhere it would have been 
 unnoticed. It jarred here, and there might have been 
 trouble, but that something else happened which made the 
 noise be entirely forgotten. Lord Inch was seen to be ill. 
 
 He rose from his seat, gasping, and stared across the 
 Court. Rivers, knowing that song, shivering, caught his 
 glance of agonized wonder. Then Lord Inch staggered back 
 and out at the door, disappearing from sight altogether. 
 
 When the general public, pushing and scrambling from 
 their seats, found the way to the back of the Court, they 
 also found it blocked by the police. 
 
 His lordship was ill, they were told. But in truth his 
 lordship was already lying dead in his own little room, still 
 in his robes, with the great red crosses lying straightened 
 over his breast. 
 
 His clerk and the macers, when they hurried across the 
 dais after him from the Court, had found someone there 
 before them. A foreign gentleman, who afterwards gave
 
 274 MR. PETERS 
 
 his name as Peters, was kneeling at his lordship s side, in 
 the corridor, doing all he could to revive him. 
 
 He was trying to find his way out of the Parliament 
 House, he explained later, when a door opened, and his 
 lordship fell at his feet. 
 
 When the others came up, Mr. Peters was bending over 
 the Judge, apparently asking what ailed him, and trying to 
 catch his last words ; but they arrived only to see Lord 
 Inch die, obviously in great distress.
 
 "HIS CLKKKS FOUND PETEHS AT HIS SIDE TKYINd TO KEVIVK HIM
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 AFTER-EFFECTS 
 
 LORD INCH left the Parliament House for the last time 
 that night, carried thence to Drumsheugh Gardens in a 
 hearse that bore a snowy pall before it reached his door. 
 For the snow that had threatened in the morning had fallen 
 all through the afternoon, and still drifted down, making 
 all the streets white and silent for his last home-coming. 
 Archie and Maitland waited for the body together, and 
 talked together afterwards in Lord Inch s study, until far 
 on towards morning. 
 
 Besides his wish to pay every respect to his old friend, 
 and to help Archie in his loneliness, Maitland was anxious 
 to know whether Archie had been told anything of his 
 father s troubles. He discovered easily that Lord Inch had 
 said nothing, and decided to say nothing himself, at anyrate 
 for the time. It would be so easy to speak at any moment, 
 and the words would be so irrevocable that it was better to 
 watch and wait. He had heard nothing of the song that 
 heralded Lord Inch s death ; he knew nothing of Rivers 
 presence in the Court, and it was perfectly natural for him 
 to certify that Lord Inch s death was consequent upon a 
 long-standing disease, aggravated by the day s excitement. 
 
 So he sat with Archie, talking in a gentle, fatherly way 
 that surprised the young master of the house, while Lord 
 Inch, past the reach of blackmailers, slept, let us hope, more 
 soundly than ever before. 
 
 If, going softly through the snow-silenced streets, one 
 had turned to the House of Residence, and looked for 
 Rivers, one would have found things less peaceful.
 
 276 MR. PETERS 
 
 For he, gasping at the sound of that snatch of trivial song, 
 which he would barely have remembered, but for its effect 
 upon the man he hunted, had fought his way out of the 
 Court with the rest, and had waited had been forced to 
 wait until he knew what the end was, although he loitered 
 with, every now and then, a backward glance, dreading that 
 presently he should hear that song again, close at his ear, 
 or that in some other way he should feel that the avenger 
 was upon him. 
 
 All around him they talked of nothing but the sudden 
 illness, until a whisper came, and spread, and became an 
 outspoken certainty, that Lord Inch was a dead man. But 
 no one connected the trouble with that foolish noise. That 
 had been forgotten in what followed, as Rivers found, when 
 he plucked up courage to speak with one or two of those 
 who seemed least likely to have been the unseen singer. By 
 the time that the death was a certainty, Rivers, finding that 
 his persistent references to that song drew attention upon 
 himself, stopped talking, and went hurriedly away home. 
 
 What should he do, and where was he safe ? Lord Inch 
 had known nothing, he was sure, of this voice, until it struck 
 him down. He, Rivers, might know nothing more until 
 his turn came for punishment, and when, where, and in 
 what form would punishment come ? 
 
 The average Briton, being aggrieved or injured, or fear 
 ing an injury, appeals to the police, if his grievance be not 
 such as he can air in the daily papers. But Rivers had to 
 bear his trouble alone. He could not complain about a song. 
 Why should the verse of a serenade, sung in a foreign 
 language and not unmusically be as significant of death 
 as any funeral march ? He would have to answer that, if 
 he wished for protection. The answer might cause trouble, 
 and would certainly attract notice. Then too, though lie 
 had not dreaded an exposure as had Lord Inch, being in a 
 tougher condition, and having no reputation to lose, he felt
 
 AFTER-EFFECTS 277 
 
 more than ever that he was an outcast, who had best not 
 claim any protection from the law. There was still the 
 London affair to account for. If he called in the Law to 
 protect him, it might also detect him. Better to hear a 
 song, mean what it would, than hear a sentence of death, 
 as he had heard it that day. 
 
 So the man sat in his own room that night, and shivered 
 and drank, and shivered and drank again, and not even the 
 knowledge that he had locked the door behind him, could 
 prevent him from looking over his shoulder at every sound, 
 and indeed at every silence. 
 
 A certain amount of liquor raised his courage, or, more 
 correctly, numbed his fear, for he had no courage to raise, 
 and he crept across the passage to seek the comfort of the 
 society of Mr. Peters. For Peters was big, and strong, and 
 imperturbable, apparently, and sitting opposite to him one 
 woiild be able to sip away without having first to look 
 behind. 
 
 But Peters door was locked, and no answer came. It 
 was cold there in the passage. So Rivers went back to his 
 own room. Besides turning the key, he dragged a table 
 across against the door, and against the table he tilted a 
 chair, so that a push would make it go over. Then he 
 undressed, and, after turning down the light, looked out 
 quietly to see whether anyone haunted the House of Resi 
 dence, as he had haunted Drumsheugh Gardens. But the 
 white streets were quiet and empty. To add to Rivers com 
 fort, he presently saw a policeman, strolling on the opposite 
 side of the street, and he fell into drunken sleep, wondering 
 whether it would attract too much attention if he gave that 
 man a modest tip to keep a special eye upon the House of 
 Residence. 
 
 Mr. Peters, too, had come to his rooms after having been 
 examined by the authorities, and locking his door also, 
 though he was afraid of nothing either alive or dead, he
 
 278 MR. PETERS 
 
 sat motionless in his favorite chair before the fire, and 
 thought over his own foolishness. One after another, he 
 recalled his mistakes and self-indulgences, until, at the 
 thought of twenty-five years of patient waiting, plotting, 
 working, and suffering, wasted at the mad impulse of a 
 moment, great tears rolled down his cheeks. Anyone com 
 ing in, and knowing what had happened that day, would 
 have pitied Mr. Peters, thinking he possessed a more tender 
 heart than most of his fellow-men ; he cried bitterly, how 
 ever, not at Lord Inch s death, but at the manner of it. 
 
 When at last he rose from his chair, it was to get the 
 long-stemmed, small-bowled pipe, with its fuel. He snapped 
 the stem with a turn of the wrist, and tossed pipe and all 
 into the fire. They made a fine blaze of heavy-perfumed, 
 high-reaching flames, and Mr. Peters, watching until noth 
 ing was left, shrugged his shoulders, and turned away with 
 an altered air, as though he had made a bonfire of regrets, 
 along with the rest. 
 
 Whether this was so or not, at least there were no more 
 tears then, or at any other time. He, too, went to bed, 
 pausing in his undressing only for a moment, when Rivers 
 came to the door. Then he went towards the door, silent, 
 and bent as a tiger crouching for a spring, but the door 
 remained shut. Rivers went back, and Mr. Peters, putting 
 away all thought of yesterday, to-day, or to-morrow, slent 
 like a child.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 MR. PETERS MAKES MORE MOVES THAN ONE 
 
 THE affairs of the world, even those of the Parliament 
 House, went on after the death of the Just Judge ; nor was 
 anyone absolutely inconsolable. Why should it be other 
 wise ? Archie, considerably sobered down, and with Dr. 
 Maitland for his guardian, could not sorrow eternally for 
 a man who had never been his familiar friend. But he 
 showed an honest intention of being no disgrace to his 
 name, as far as work was concerned, and went about his 
 studies conscientiously, in spite of a distraction, a torment 
 ing, aggravating, tantalizing distraction, in the shape of 
 Melia. 
 
 For Melia, with very mixed feelings, and from very 
 mixed motives, was not seizing her golden opportunity, and, 
 point-blank, refused to consider Archie s suit seriously. 
 
 " Boys shouldn t be so foolish," she told him with a re 
 proving air. " You re old enough to have more sense, Mr. 
 Inch," and would not listen to Archie s meek suggestion 
 that this was rather contradictory. " I b lieve you re talk 
 ing like that because you think you must," she added once. 
 " I ve told you, over and over, that I ve forgotten that fool 
 ishness of yours." By which further contradictory state 
 ment, Melia wished to intimate that she attached no impor 
 tance to the stolen kiss. 
 
 She cried over Lord Inch s note, inclosing a check for 
 those boxes of cigars which still lay untouched in the study, 
 and later on showed it to Archie, but refused to say what 
 they had discussed together. Archie argued with her over
 
 280 MR. PETERS 
 
 his father s probable feeling in the matter of his proposal, 
 but they never came to any agreement. The one thing 
 neither of them ever did was to ask Rivers what had been 
 the outcome of his interview with Lord Inch. Each felt 
 that this matter lay entirely between themselves, and both 
 of them, had they been perfectly frank, would have had 
 to acknowledge that they would not be prepared to pay 
 any attention to Rivers interference. Neither Rivers nor 
 Peters was so much about the shop now, but one day Mr. 
 Peters went down to Leith again, and called on Moriarty. 
 
 Business was still doing " most terrible " well with Lu 
 cius. Even the tobacconist s shop began to show signs of 
 coming prosperity, thanks to Nell s careful consideration 
 of its possibilities, and also to Melia s pleasant ways with 
 the customers. Nell was considering the question of add 
 ing good coffee and the daily papers to its attractions, even 
 a magazine or two, if the thing went well, and threw out 
 occasional hints of the advantage of larger premises. 
 
 But latterly Lucius had felt, more than ever, the hollow- 
 ness of mere worldly prosperity, and the need for cultivat 
 ing other than business interests. His mind was lingering 
 fondly over that old dream of a little farm, where he could 
 breed honest beef and mutton, to the accompaniment of 
 pastoral poetry. His thoughts were on this and kindred 
 matters when Peters was announced. 
 
 " How are ye ? how are ye ? my Christian friend ! " said 
 Lucius, rising from his desk precipitately to shake hands. 
 " Where have ye been this long time, Mr. Peters ? " 
 
 " Going about my business," said Mr. Peters, and sat 
 down upon the chair pointed out by Lucius. 
 
 " Well, well ! " Lucius told him, " it s business takes the 
 pleasure out of life, isn t it ? You re not in such good fettle 
 as when you came to Edinburgh. You re losing weight, 
 I ll wager," he added, after a critical inspection. " What 
 ails ye, man ? "
 
 ME. PETERS MAKES MORE MOVES THAN ONE 281 
 
 Then, as a sudden fear caught him, " Y aren t in the 
 lawyers grips ? " 
 
 But Peters shook his head at that. " No," he said, qui 
 etly. " I keep clear." 
 
 " That s well," Lucius told him, emphatically. " Come 
 down here, an drop your money into the harbor first. 
 Cast thy bread you know. It might return to you 
 after many days, at a low tide, or with the dredger maybe, 
 but up there -" and Lucius shook his head emphatically, 
 to show what his experience had been " up there." " I d 
 have looked ye up before now, if things hadn t been as they 
 are," he went on, nodding his head at the papers before him. 
 
 " I should have been happy," said Peters, politely. 
 
 " Not at all ! " said Lucius, not as a contradiction, but as 
 a conventional courtesy. " Your landlady s a monstrous 
 fine woman, Mr. Peters ; and I reckon your friends are her 
 friends, from the way she made me welcome last time I 
 looked you up. It s my belief you re a sly dog, Mr. Peters, 
 for all you re so quiet. Are ye thinking of settlin down 
 here, eh ? " 
 
 No, Mr. Peters was not thinking of settling down there, 
 and said so. 
 
 " That reminds me," Lucius told him, one thing suggest 
 ing another, " there s another good-looking lady, a young 
 un too, been inquiring after you twice. It s When did 
 you sec Mr. Peters, Mr. Moriarty ? and Has Mr. Peters 
 gone away that I don t ee him here now ? Who ll that 
 be, eh ? " 
 
 " Miss Murray," Peters suggested, apparently not par 
 ticularly impressed by the news, and Lucius stared at him. 
 
 " You re an icicle ! " he insisted, " or we ll say an iceberg, 
 because of the size of you. Is there never a warm heart 
 outside Old Ireland ? Faith, I begin to think it. Why, the 
 boys of me time would have broken heads, everyone of 
 em, for a smile from the likes o her ! "
 
 282 MR. PETERS 
 
 " I am not a boy," Peters suggested. 
 
 " Maybe that s true," Lucius admitted. " We re boys till 
 we die in Old Ireland. But anyway, you re not looking so 
 well as you were. Maybe it s a change you re wanting ? " 
 
 " I want more air," said Peters, " and so I want money." 
 
 " They sell air compressed nowadays, don t they ? " 
 chuckled Lucius. " Will ye order it in like beer ? " 
 
 " I am going where there is more of it," Peters told him, 
 rising and filling his chest with a deep breath, as if he were 
 stifled. 
 
 " Ay ! Where ? " asked Lucius, interested. 
 
 " On your hills," said Mr. Peters, sitting down again. 
 " From here and there, in this city, one sees your hills. 
 From a high window, or a street corner. They are the 
 Pentlands, your people say, when one asks, but not many 
 of them can say much more." 
 
 " I ve not been there meself for years," Lucius admitted, 
 regretfully. 
 
 " Very well, then, I have been," Peters told him, " and I 
 go again. There is air, fresh, and plenty of it, up there." 
 
 " Plenty," Lucius agreed, " and nothing to pay." 
 
 " I have taken, what you call rented, an empty cottage," 
 Peters explained. 
 
 " I see. Rent payable in advance," Lucius supposed. 
 " You ll be wanting a matter of fifteen or twenty pounds 
 then, what with furniture and so on ? " 
 
 " Two hundred," Peters told him, and Lucius, who had 
 taken out his check-book, dropped his pen in horror. 
 
 " What blaggard has been havin ye ? " he demanded. 
 " Two hundred pounds, for a bit of an empty cottage on a 
 hillside ! Why didn t ye come to me ? " 
 
 " I have not told you that it is all for that," Mr. Peters re 
 minded him. " I have my expenses here, and, besides, 
 on account of my business, there have been expenses in 
 London."
 
 MR. PETERS MAKES MORE MOVES THAN ONE 283 
 
 " Are ye chucking away money there too, that ye may 
 have the pleasure o payin your father s old debts ? " 
 
 " It is not thrown away," Peters told him, " I have got 
 the value of my money." 
 
 " Well, a man s money is his own, I suppose," Lucius 
 grumbled, filling up a check as he spoke, and then touching 
 his bell. " I d like to know what you call value for it 
 though. I don t fancy we d agree on that point." 
 
 " That is true," Peters agreed, but offered no explana 
 tion, and Lucius, giving the matter up in disgust, relieved 
 his feelings by a short homily to the junior clerk. 
 
 " It s from two hundred and fifty to three hundred yards 
 to the bank," he told the boy as he handed him the check. 
 " Maybe, to-day, you ll oblige me by tryin the nearest way 
 for a change ; and that s not by way of the docks, and you 
 don t go up by Leith Walk either. I give ye twenty min 
 utes. If ye don t ! " 
 
 He never finished the sentence, for the clerk, on hearing 
 the time-limit, had taken to his heels, and Lucius was left, 
 staring alternately at Mr. Peters and at the door, which his 
 flying messenger had banged behind him. 
 
 " There s manners ! " he observed. " And his mother as 
 decent a woman as ever told me a pitiful story in this room, 
 an it fair groans with em, bein a shippin business, and 
 all one s people one s friends." 
 
 " You are busy," Peters told him. "Continue ; here is a 
 paper that I will read." 
 
 "Not you," Lucius insisted, "you ll talk with me. 
 You re on me conscience." 
 
 Mr. Peters looked, first frowning, then raising his eye 
 brows, but Lucius was undaunted. 
 
 " Ay, you re on me conscience," he repeated, " an you 
 may frown away till I ve done. D ye know how much 
 money there ll be left after this two hundred goes ? " 
 
 " About a hundred," Mr. Peters told him, " and the bag."
 
 284 MR. PETERS 
 
 " And the bag," Lucius agreed, nodding towards the safe. 
 " It s there, since you said you might want it in a hurry. 
 Contents unknown, but money in some quantity, from the 
 feel of it. Still !" 
 
 " Still ? " repeated Mr. Peters, whose face had grown 
 smooth and unmoved again. 
 
 " Well, if you don t look lively," Lucius answered, mak 
 ing a plunge, " I m thinkin all the cash may go to the pre 
 liminaries, and so forth, and none be left for a settlement. 
 I could be your father, for age, and your friend Bergen is 
 my friend. Come, now ! can I help ye to settle up ? After 
 that, go ducks and drakes with the remainder, an welcome. 
 But don t go and spend it all in askin this, an askin that, 
 and findin this man, and findin that, just to tell em your 
 money s all gone in the searching for em, when all s said 
 an done. It s they ought to spend their money in findin 
 you not t other way round ! " 
 
 " They would not," Peters said. " They do not know, 
 and my way is best. Things shall go well now." 
 
 " That s done with, then," Lucius decided, and they 
 spoke of it no more, but chatted away about public affairs, 
 until the clerk rushed in, breathless, and with an aggrieved 
 air plainly showing that he knew whom he would consider 
 responsible if any ill happened to him after his hurried 
 errand. 
 
 Then Peters shook hands with Moriarty, and, going 
 straight back to the House of Residence, wrote a letter and 
 enclosed four five-pound notes, directing to Mr. Domenico 
 Selli, No. - - Wardour Street, London. The letter was in 
 Italian, and ran, roughly, as follows: 
 
 " MY DEAR COUSIN, 
 
 Business here goes slowly, and cannot be pushed. Any 
 rash speculation would perhaps be fatal, as once before. 
 I invest in house property, and look for a return, but I am
 
 MB. PETERS MAKES MORE MOVES THAN ONE 285 
 
 no more in haste. I have had my lesson. Your informa 
 tion and the paper received are invaluable. Eesistance is 
 crippled thereby, and appeal to arbitration made impos 
 sible, which is what I desire. I remit the money, which can 
 ill be spared, but is most well-spent." 
 
 Mr. Peters took this business-like epistle to the post-office, 
 and registered it. Then he went to his room, and sat think 
 ing. In his hand was a London daily paper of some years 
 back, which, with a letter, had reached him that morning. 
 
 A paragraph in it was marked lightly in pencil. He 
 rubbed the mark out carefully, and sat thinking again. 
 Then he put a heavy cross in another part of the news 
 summary, lower down, where the loss of a ship was an 
 nounced, and tossed the paper carelessly on the table, beside 
 that day s Scotsman. 
 
 After that, he looked across the passage and saw that 
 Rivers door was open, therefore that Rivers was out. Then 
 Mr. Peters sat down by his own fire, it being within, perhaps, 
 three-quarters of an hour from dinner-time, and, with a 
 lighted lamp upon the table and drawn curtains, began to 
 play Patience. As he played, he smoked, but there was no 
 more to be seen of the small-bowled pipe, and Mr. Peters 
 smoked nothing but Dream Mixture cigarettes, bought 
 from Melia. 
 
 Lucius had been quite right in saying that Mr. Peters was 
 not in such good " fettle " as when he came to Edinburgh. 
 There was often a tired look about his eyes. His face was 
 not quite so smooth and round. Still, he looked easily 
 good-tempered and imperturbable, as he played, and he was, 
 to all appearance, comfortable and contented enough when 
 Rivers came along the passage, went into his own room, and 
 presently, coming out again, knocked at Peters door. 
 
 " Enter ! " said Mr. Peters, dealing another card, and his 
 neighbor entered accordingly.
 
 286 MR. PETERS 
 
 Rivers was recovering his spirits to a great extent, and 
 showed it. His hat was on, glossy, and tipped a little to 
 one side. When Rivers was in good spirits it seemed very 
 difficult to part him from his hat. He would wear it coming 
 up the stair, on returning from a stroll, and forget to take 
 it off for some minutes after, if he happened to look in upon 
 Mr. Peters. He began to doubt his recollection of the 
 scene at the Parliament House. Nothing had happened 
 since to frighten him, and his own aifairs prospered exceed 
 ingly. He doubted whether his ears had not played him 
 false as to the song. He had been drinking heavily at that 
 time his imagination was excited by his surroundings 
 one tune sounds very like another at times and so on. 
 
 At anyrate, he was in luck just now, and luck, backed up 
 by manual dexterity, and a fat, good-natured pigeon eager 
 to be plucked, must be pursued. 
 
 " Well ! " he asked, sitting down in the opposite easy- 
 chair, " are we ready for revenge ? Have we the rhino ? " 
 
 " I am ready," Mr. Peters told him. " I have more 
 money." 
 
 " Tis well ! " said Rivers, twisting his glossy mustache, 
 glossier and blacker than ever, with a melodramatic air. 
 " R-r-revenge is sweet. To-night ? " 
 
 " If you will," Mr. Peters told him. 
 
 " Oh, you shall have your opportunity," Rivers declared. 
 " Luck must turn soon, you know." 
 
 " I think it will," said Mr. Peters, and his visitor, still 
 twisting the mustache to a most military point, smiled 
 behind his hand. 
 
 " I must win," continued Mr. Peters, with one eye on his 
 game and the other on Rivers, " before all your money 
 goes." 
 
 " What d ye mean ? " 
 
 " You have told me of money invested in the States, is 
 it not so ? "
 
 MR. PETERS MAKES MORE MOVES THAN ONE 287 
 
 " A trifle, yes, that is so," Elvers acknowledged. " Not 
 much perhaps, but something to a poor man." 
 
 " The papers say there is trouble between the two coun 
 tries," said Mr. Peters, and leaning across lazily to the larger 
 table, without rising, he picked up the nearest paper, and 
 handed it to Rivers. 
 
 " Somewhere in the small notices," he suggested, and 
 Rivers, although he had not the remotest pecuniary interest 
 in the relations of Great Britain and the States, looked down 
 the column. 
 
 " It would be a bad job for me and my little Em ly," he 
 announced, " though I hope she ll be provided for soon," 
 and then he became very still and said nothing, for quite 
 another bit of news had caught his eye. 
 " The man who is wanted in connection with the murder 
 in the tap-room of the Flowing Bowl will, it is believed, 
 be speedily in the hands of the authorities, reliable infor 
 mation having been received as to his identity and where 
 abouts." 
 
 Mr. Peters continued to deal his cards, putting them 
 down rather noisily upon the little table before him, but he 
 was not looking at his game. He was quietly watching 
 Rivers. 
 
 " Do you not find it ? " he asked presently, but had to 
 repeat the question before he got any answer. 
 
 " Not yet," Rivers said at last, and, sitting back in the 
 chair, with the paper close to his eyes, seemed to search on 
 unsuccessfully. 
 
 Mr. Peters played away for a few minutes longer, and 
 then said, " Let me find it." He took the paper, Rivers 
 muttering that his eyes were not so good as they used to be, 
 and that he must really get glasses. 
 
 But Peters seemed to look, and then burst out laughing. 
 " T do not wonder," he said, " that you cannot find it. It is 
 not your eyes, my best Rivers. The news is not there.
 
 288 MR. PETERS 
 
 You are looking in a paper many years old. Did you not 
 see ? " 
 
 " I didn t notice," Kivers admitted. He was leaning back 
 in his chair, and the mustache was trembling as he an 
 swered. 
 
 " It will be in this," Peters went on, reaching out for the 
 Scotsman upon the table. " Here it is ! " 
 
 He found the paragraph, pointed it out, and handed the 
 paper to Rivers, who sat and studied it intently, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 " What think you of it ? " demanded Peters, who had 
 gone back to his game. 
 
 " Bad, very bad ! " Rivers told him. " My poor little 
 Em ly. It gives me quite a turn. Have you just the least 
 drop of something, handy ? I m getting an old man, Cap 
 tain Peters, and I can t afford to lose money." 
 
 Peters got something for him, and Rivers took it with a 
 hand that still trembled. 
 
 " I like to see the London paper sometimes," he told 
 Peters presently. " It s not worth while going to the li 
 brary, if you have it in the place. Do you take it in regu 
 larly ? " 
 
 " No." Mr. Peters took up the old London paper, and 
 sought for a paragraph in it. " It is my family business," 
 he explained. " It is believed that a relative of mine was 
 drowned in this ship," and he showed Rivers the paragraph 
 already marked in pencil. 
 
 Rivers studied it carefully, and drank again. 
 
 " After all," Mr. Peters suggested, " we know what these 
 newspapers are. It is probably not true about these 
 troubles. It will be told otherwise to-morrow." 
 
 " That is so," Rivers agreed, draining his glass. " It is 
 of no use to be frightened at these things. It is a father s 
 foolishness, my dear Peters. Let me see, it s almost dinner 
 time, isn t it ? "
 
 MR. PETERS MAKES MORE MOVES THAN ONE 289 
 
 " In ten minutes," said Mr. Peters. " Shall I have my 
 revenge after dinner, and here ? " 
 
 " Excellent ! " Elvers agreed, cheering up very much. 
 " A good fire, and a comfortable chair, a friend to profit if 
 you lose, and a glass to console you. That is what I call 
 comfort." 
 
 He rose to go, evidently relieved about our foreign rela 
 tions. 
 
 " By the by," he told Mr. Peters, " I saw my little 
 Em ly this afternoon. She tells me that she has seen very 
 little of you lately." 
 
 " It is true," Mr. Peters admitted. " I have had my 
 business to attend to, in the day. Our evenings we have 
 spent together of late, have we not ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes. Better luck to-night perhaps. It s as bad 
 always to win as always to lose, Captain Peters." 
 
 " Is it ? " Mr. Peters asked, simply. " Ah ! but I shall 
 have my turn." 
 
 " Oh, surely," Eivers agreed, " and how does your busi 
 ness go on ? " 
 
 " Slowly," Peters told him, " but I expect to finish soon, 
 very soon, now." 
 
 " Well, well," said Rivers, looking at him as if this in 
 terested him very much, " and then you will go away ? " 
 
 " Then I shall say good-by, and go away." 
 
 " I must give you plenty of opportunity to win back your 
 money," said Rivers, with a regretful air. 
 
 " Or to lose some more ? " Mr. Peters suggested, but 
 Rivers objected to this way of putting it. 
 
 " No, no. Luck will turn," he insisted, and just then the 
 dinner-bell rang, and he went off to go through the very 
 necessary ordeal of washing his hands, which he did with 
 not much superfluous soap and water, but with many smiles. 
 
 " I shall lose to-night," he told his reflection in the look 
 ing-glass. " I m as sure of it, as that I stand here," but 
 
 19
 
 290 MR. PETERS 
 
 this foreboding did not appear to damp his spirits, and 
 he joined the party in the dining-room without a sigh. 
 
 He entertained himself, if not Mrs. Jimps, that evening, 
 by recollections of his Alma Mater. Mr. Elvers had 
 moved in the wittiest, richest, wickedest, most brilliant set 
 of his college, so he gave Mrs. Jimps to understand. Of 
 the wickedness, of course, he could not give details to a 
 lady, and wit is so like champagne that he was quite right 
 not to repeat jokes which had been uncorked, so to speak, 
 so many years ago. If Mrs. Jimps did not appreciate 
 Rivers anecdotes so highly as he did, she at anyrate smiled 
 occasionally, and, sometimes, quite in the right place. 
 Many of her obliging sex do no more, and rank as sympa 
 thetic for doing so much. Eivers did not know that, behind 
 the attentive manner and the smile, thoughts came and 
 went in Mrs. Jimps business-like brain which were con 
 cerning himself, and were not so complimentary as he 
 would have expected. 
 
 Mrs. Jimps had her suspicions of Rivers, and these had 
 been considerably strengthened, quite lately, by hints from 
 the kitchen. Mrs. Jimps thought it permissible, a thing 
 that must be endured, when a Paying Guest, having met 
 agreeable companions, came home once in a way slightly 
 the worse for liquor, or roused suspicion by want of appe 
 tite at the breakfast-table. But, if Annie were to be believed, 
 steady drinking, steady and solitary drinking, had gone on 
 lately in Mr. Rivers room, until, just a few nights ago, mat 
 ters became even worse. Rivers had migrated to Peters 
 room, and if Mrs. Jimps could believe her ears, applied 
 in quite a friendly spirit to Captain Peters keyhole when 
 going her nightly round. Rivers now spent his evenings 
 in drinking Captain Peters whiskey, and winning his 
 money. 
 
 " It would be the ruin of the place if it was known," 
 she said to herself, smiling at the same time because Rivers
 
 MR. PETERS MAKES MORE MOVES THAN ONE 291 
 
 had just laughed, and therefore must have said something 
 which he thought funny. 
 
 " It will be the ruin of poor Captain Peters, if it goes on," 
 she decided, as Kivers launched forth upon another personal 
 anecdote. " I wonder whether he d be very angry if I spoke 
 of it ? " 
 
 She looked down the table at Mr. Peters, who still had 
 the place of honor at the other end, and acknowledged to 
 herself that she did not like the idea of interfering. Finally 
 she made up her mind to wait one night more. 
 
 " I didn t think Captain Peters would be so foolish," she 
 acknowledged later, unburdening herself for once to the 
 faithful Annie, who as usual was her companion on the 
 nightly round. 
 
 " They re all the same in the end, I think, Mrs. Jimps. 
 Fools to each other, and villains to we poor women," Annie 
 told her gloomily, with a sigh for the dashing dragoon, who 
 had left Piershill for foreign parts. 
 
 " I really will speak to Captain Peters to-morrow, if he 
 goes on losing more money," said Mrs. Jimps. " He sha n t 
 ruin himself in my house, to please anyone. Hush now, 
 Annie, and mind those squeaky shoes of yours." 
 
 They had reached Captain Peters door, and Mrs. Jimps 
 put an ear to the keyhole. It was now half an hour after 
 midnight. Mrs. Jimps had made her visit much later than 
 usual, Annie having told her that the sittings lasted until 
 half-past twelve or one. 
 
 Mrs. Jimps listened, and Annie tried to gather informa 
 tion from her upturned face. 
 
 Three minutes Mrs. Jimps listened, then started sud 
 denly, and fled more swiftly than she was accustomed to 
 move on her own premises, followed hot- foot by Annie. 
 
 They were only just in time. Peters door opened as 
 they reached the flat below, and Rivers spoke. 
 
 " I told you how it would be," they heard him say, be-
 
 292 MR. PETERS 
 
 tween one door and the other. " Luck must change. I 
 shouldn t wonder if you had a run of it, now." Then he 
 went into his own room, and they heard no more. 
 
 Mrs. Jimps looked at Annie and smiled. 
 
 " Captain Peters has won some of his money back," she 
 explained. " That s what that means, Annie. It s a wicked 
 amusement, and I don t know anything about it, and don t 
 want to. But if, as that man says, the luck has changed, 
 why, Mr. Peters will very likely get some more, and I won t 
 stand between him and what belongs to him. I sha n t say 
 anything yet, at anyrate. Good-night, Annie. Be sure 
 you re up in good time, and, if you come to me after break 
 fast, I ll give you that silk underskirt that I had turned last 
 year. I ve been meaning you to have it, for a long time."
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE TROUBLES OF MADGE MURRAY AND MRS. JIMP8 
 
 CHRISTMAS was now drawing near ; the days were short 
 and gray ; more snow had fallen, and could be seen from 
 the city lying upon the Pentland Hills ; but Mr. Peters 
 went up the slopes more than once, to make sure that the 
 little furniture he needed was safely delivered, and arranged 
 in his cottage. 
 
 Mrs. Jimps was much troubled when he told her of his 
 new quarters, and recovered her spirits only when she heard 
 that, for the present at anyrate, he intended to keep on his 
 rooms in the House of Residence. 
 
 " I shall be delighted, Captain Peters," she told him, 
 " and we will arrange for a little reduction on the rent when 
 you are away. I do hope you will be well taken care of, up 
 there in the cold ? " 
 
 " A woman is coming from the nearest house," Peters 
 explained, " to clean the rooms. I will do most for myself. 
 One cannot always have a Mrs. Jimps to take care of one." 
 
 Ah ! if he only knew how easily One might have a Mrs. 
 Jimps to take care of him. Mrs. Jimps felt this, but, being 
 trammelled by the conventionalities, did not say so. 
 
 " We must take special care of you when you are in town, 
 Captain Peters," was her rejoinder. " Are you sure that 
 you have plenty of warm bedding ? " 
 
 " Plenty ! " Peters assured her. " Often, too, T shall 
 sleep here. You will keep my rooms quite as usual." 
 
 " I will see to it myself," declared Mrs. Jimps. " and you 
 will keep your key, Captain Peters, so that you can come in 
 at any time. You may be sure, whenever you do, that you
 
 294 MR. PETERS 
 
 will find your bed aired, and the fire ready laid, so that you 
 need only put a match to it. And if you happen to want 
 anything in the way of a meal, when you do come in, please 
 come to me. The rules of the House of Eesidence can be 
 stretched, for friends, Captain Peters." 
 
 Mere creature comforts these, which Mrs. Jimps laid so 
 much stress upon, but her intention was as kindly as if she 
 had offered Mr. Peters higher things. He seemed properly 
 to appreciate the intention. He laughed, not unkindly 
 Mr. Peters had not laughed much of late ; then he bent, 
 and, kissing Mrs. Jimps plump hand, set her blushing furi 
 ously. 
 
 " Captain Peters ! " 
 
 " Pardon a foreigner," he entreated. " It is a foreign 
 fashion, Mrs. Jimps. You are kind, and I forget. It shall 
 not happen again." 
 
 Nor did it. Mrs. Jimps, now on her guard against such 
 liberties, and determined, of course, to allow no more, had 
 no further cause for complaint, and yet seemed no happier. 
 Nor did she hear Captain Peters laugh again, in the pleasant 
 way with which he had met her hospitable assurances. 
 
 Now, though he had entered on the possession of his 
 house on the Pentlands, he still came and went almost every 
 day. Perhaps it was his business that brought him in so 
 often, perhaps it was the recollection of his promise to 
 Melia, that he would keep an eye upon her father. Once 
 or twice, when he spent a night in town, Eivers visited his 
 room, and won or lost a few pounds over the cards. But 
 Peters declared that he found the nights pleasantest upon 
 the hills, and Eivers began to wonder how he could continue 
 those delightful evenings which had been so regularly prof 
 itable a short while ago. 
 
 " Ow d you live up there ? " Melia asked Peters one day 
 when he looked in for tobacco to take back with him. 
 
 " I smoke."
 
 MADGE MURRAY AND MRS. JIMPS 295 
 
 " You re a funny man, Cap n Peters," Melia declared. 
 " You could smoke anywhere else, just as well." 
 
 " There is no room," he told her, gravely. " I smell the 
 smoke of one hundred other men, when I smoke in this 
 place. Then I cannot move. I stretch myself, and see ! 
 something is spoilt." 
 
 He stretched himself, with a hand extended far on either 
 side of him, and swept a box of cigars from a shelf. 
 
 " You re a funny one ! " Melia repeated, going down on 
 her knees to pick up the cigars. " You needn t have done 
 that. I d take your word for it. What sort of a place is 
 yours ? " 
 
 " Two rooms only," Peters told her, " and small. There 
 is little in them, but still I cannot stretch there. It is on 
 the outside that I find room." 
 
 " What s that like ? " asked Melia, laying on the counter 
 a damaged cigar, which she meant Peters to pay for pres 
 ently, and then resting on her elbows, her pretty chin be 
 tween her hands. 
 
 " Behind is the hill-side," said Peters, " and the fir-trees, 
 that whisper all the night, when there is wind. I walk by 
 them, under the stars, when I cannot sleep, and they tell me 
 all sorts of things, and send me back sleepy to my bed." 
 
 " That s pretty," Melia allowed. " I didn t know you 
 were that sort. Go on, Cap n Peters. What s in front ? " 
 
 Peters, upon the leather-covered seat against the wall, 
 leant his head back, and his hat tilted forward over his 
 eyes. 
 
 " In front," he told her, " the hill falls and falls away, 
 until it reaches the water. That is frozen now. There will 
 be skating in a few days." 
 
 " What besides ? " 
 
 " There are the rabbits, and the grouse," Peters went on, 
 " and sometimes, by night, I hear the wild duck going over 
 me, or perhaps a goose sometimes ; I do not know."
 
 2 JG Mil. PETERS 
 
 " Do they chatter like the trees ? " Mclia asked. " I 
 s pose, if they do, they say cook me ! : 
 
 Mr. Peters didn t laugh. He seemed not to be thinking 
 so very much of Melia, and answered quite softly and sol 
 emnly. 
 
 " No," he said, " they do not say cook me. In the snow, 
 the rabbits and the grouse tell one another that life is a 
 hard thing, and that everyone must fight for himself. But 
 the geese : 
 
 " Yes ? " said Melia, " I ve heard they re not such fools 
 as they look. What do they say ? " 
 
 " They cry down to me," Peters told her, " that I am a 
 slow fool, a silly stupid, a dull fellow. They tell me of the 
 places where I met them before. Then they call that I 
 must make haste to finish my work and come away, and be 
 free once more like they are." 
 
 " And what do you say ? " Melia wanted to know. 
 
 " I tell them patience, and that a fool, to be sure, must 
 go slowly." 
 
 He rose now, and picked up his packet of tobacco. 
 
 " I must go," he said. " It will snow again to-night, and 
 then I might lose myself." 
 
 " This cigar s your s," Melia told him. " See how you ve 
 spoilt it. Fourpence please, and you d best wait till you 
 get to your cottage before you stretch again, or it may come 
 more expensive, Cap n Peters. Now I d like to see that 
 place o yours." 
 
 " Well," Peters suggested, " so would your father. Make 
 him bring you. I have already told him to come, if he 
 likes." 
 
 " I ll talk to him," Melia promised, and then remembered 
 something else to speak of. 
 
 " You know that time when you came along here, with a 
 lady," she asked him, " an left her to come in here ? " 
 
 Peters couldn t remember for the moment, and said so.
 
 MADGE MURRAY AND MRS. JIMPS 297 
 
 " A tall, dark lady. She was dressed in blue and red. 
 Looks like this ! " and Melia, drawing herself up, threw her 
 head back a little, and surveyed him superciliously from 
 under drooping lids. 
 
 " Yes," Peters told her, " I remember now. What of 
 her ? " 
 
 " Friend o yours ? " asked Melia. 
 
 Mr. Peters shrugged his shoulders. " Go on ! " he said. 
 
 " Oh, she s a customer o mine, that s all," Melia told 
 him. " If she smokes all she buys, she s a Wunner, Cap n 
 Peters." 
 
 " Perhaps she does not," Peters suggested. 
 
 " That s what I say," Melia agreed, and seemed on 
 the point of saying more, but apparently changed her 
 mind. 
 
 " Well, it s going to snow, as you thought," she told him, 
 " and you don t want to be found froze in a ditch. Good 
 night ! " and Peters, wishing her good-night in return, went 
 away. 
 
 Half an hour later, Madge Murray came in the dusk, and 
 asked for cigarettes, with a patronizing air that would prob 
 ably have got scant courtesy in return but for Melia s axiom 
 that business came before personal feeling. 
 
 " Has Mr. Peters been here lately ? " Madge asked care 
 lessly, as she turned to go. 
 
 " This very afternoon," Melia told her, " for half an 
 hour. He uses up his cigarettes a most as soon as you, 
 Miss. Could I tell him anything for you, when I see 
 him ?" 
 
 " "N"o, it s just that I want to give him a book he lent me," 
 her customer explained. " I m afraid he ll go away without 
 getting it. Half an hour, you say ? He s very particular 
 over his cigarettes ? " 
 
 " Oli, that doesn t take a minute," Melia assured her, 
 calmly. " I always know just what he wants. But me an
 
 298 MR. PETERS 
 
 Cap n Peters are old friends. We ve always a lot to talk 
 about." 
 
 " That s very kind of him. I hope he means all he says 
 to you," the other remarked, and sailed out forthwith. 
 
 Melia, to relieve her mind when the shop was empty, 
 came round the end of the counter, and burlesqued Miss 
 Murray s departure, as far as the door. 
 
 " Spitfire ! " she announced, to no one in particular, and, 
 after watching the stray flakes of snow for a minute or two, 
 she made herself a cup of tea, and settled down as usual 
 over a book ; but, as usual, too, nowadays, she got on 
 slowly. There were so many things to wonder over. There 
 was Archie first always. Melia couldn t rid herself of the 
 idea that Archie was pressing his suit, partly at anyrate 
 because he was being pressed. She had not spoken to 
 Rivers about it, but that was her feeling, and nothing that 
 Archie could say would rid her of it altogether. Rivers 
 had cunning enough not to discuss the thing with her. 
 His hints about the pleasure it would give him, to see her 
 quietly settled down, with a house in which her poor old 
 father might some time find a corner when he felt near his 
 end, were too vague to quarrel over, but quite enough to 
 worry Melia. Rivers was, nevertheless, her father, and 
 Melia was ready to defend him against all the world, but 
 she had very few illusions left concerning him, and could 
 not persuade herself, as she could once have done, that 
 Archie would be pleased, or honored, in having such a 
 father-in-law. Leave him she would not. Inflict him upon 
 Archie she could not, and poor Melia, torn both ways by 
 these contradictory feelings, had of late, in trying to be just 
 to both, been none too sweet-tempered with either. 
 
 " You re the best of em," she often assured her silent 
 friend " Sandy." " You re the only one I can have about 
 me for very long without wishing you out o this, anyway." 
 
 If it had not been for her doubts about her father, Melia
 
 MADGE MURRAY AND MRS. JIMPS 299 
 
 would probably have consulted Nell. But the hours at 
 which Nell came were not those at which Eivers usually 
 made an appearance. Nell had never met him, and Melia 
 had not felt bound to mention him, much less to discuss 
 her troubles concerning him with anyone.
 
 CHAPTER XLI 
 
 CANDIDUM SORACTE 
 
 THE next Sunday, the ground being white with a thin 
 covering of snow, Melia and her father went across the hills, 
 by invitation from Mr. Peters, to see him in his new quar 
 ters. 
 
 There was not much talking by the way. Melia had 
 learnt that there were not many things which her father 
 cared for which were of any interest to her ; also, that any 
 chat, however it might begin, was apt to end in hints from 
 Rivers that he was getting impatient over her unnecessary 
 delay in providing a comfortable home for both of them. 
 
 She went along the slopes, after they reached the open 
 hill-side, looking on the thin, powdery sheet of snow for 
 foot-prints of birds and beasts, drawing deep breaths as she 
 went, and wondering why she had never ventured before 
 into this quiet, white fairyland. 
 
 Once she told her father to look at the rabbits, scuttling 
 to their burrows, and at a hawk, hanging against the blue- 
 gray sky, ready for a swoop ; but Rivers was unresponsive. 
 He thought the white country-side cold and dull, and won 
 dered, as he went, why on earth he had been persuaded to 
 bring Melia ; he wondered, too, whether, with her there, 
 he would get any chance of a game at cards, to keep him 
 comfortably in pocket money until Melia should make up 
 her mind to stop playing the fool, and take young Inch and 
 his money while she could get them. All this fuss and 
 bother, he was sure, only arose from some silly girlish af 
 fectation, and he began to feel that, if separated much
 
 CANDIDUM SORACTE 301 
 
 longer from his dear friend Captain Peters, and conse 
 quently from his dear friend s purse, he would have to 
 speak plainly, and teach Melia her duty. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Peters, sitting at the top of the brae, his 
 big chin propped on the palm of his hand, looked down like 
 another hawk over the valley, and watched the coming of 
 his guests. He would have preferred, vastly, to entertain 
 Rivers alone, but there was no hurry to do that. Mr. Peters 
 had sworn that never again in this world would he press 
 matters or run any risk of seeming to guide anyone s move 
 ments. He sat careless of the three or four degrees of frost, 
 watching these two figures gradually grow more distinct, 
 and was quite the hospitable entertainer when Melia caught 
 sight of him, and, waving her handkerchief, pushed up the 
 hill before her father. 
 
 " This is grand, Cap n Peters," she panted, when within 
 speaking distance. " My ! to think o the times I spent 
 in my bed lazy good-for-nothing when I might have 
 been here ! " 
 
 Peters, watching her father come up behind her, did not 
 pay much attention, but Melia was too happy to care. 
 
 " You re right ! " she told him, still panting, " you can 
 stretch here," and with that she plumped down on some 
 heather, from which she beat the snow, and, leaning back 
 with her shoulders against a bank, stretched out her arms as 
 if to embrace the Pentlands as a whole. 
 
 A cock-grouse, seeing that there was no gun among the 
 party, called from a bare knoll some fifty yards away, and 
 Melia watched him, enchanted, then turned to look at a 
 big hare, that went with little hops across the frozen loch 
 beneath them. 
 
 " Better n Princes Street," she pronounced. " I never 
 saw that chap before cept at the poulterer s," and then, 
 getting up, walked behind the two men, looking about her, 
 and taking very little share in the conversation, as they
 
 302 MR. TETERS 
 
 followed the narrow footpath that wound away between the 
 hills. 
 
 At the edge of the whispering Scotch firs, silent now in 
 the still, frosty daylight, they came upon the cottage that 
 Mr. Peters had described to Melia. 
 
 It stood quite alone, a thin line of smoke, unstirred by 
 any wind, mounting straight from its chimney. 
 
 Down from the door the ground sloped away, thickly 
 covered with heather and coarse grasses, until it fell to the 
 shores of another little loch, Glencorse Reservoir, in the hol 
 low of the hills, and here Melia stood and looked about her, 
 more interested in the outside than the inside of the cottage, 
 for the time, and not very willing to move. 
 
 " Come," Peters told her, " the good Eivers is hungry it 
 seems, and something is ready for you to eat, and you can 
 see this again after." 
 
 So Melia went in, and at once became amused by the 
 household arrangements. 
 
 Over the fire stood a big pot, and from it came an entic 
 ing odor, as Mr. Peters lifted the lid and peered in. 
 
 " My ! you know what s good," Melia told him, sniffing 
 the air. " What s in that thing, Cap n Peters ? " 
 
 " A little of all things. It is a stew, into which I have 
 emptied my larder. Go away, and put your hat in the other 
 room, my bedroom. Then dinner will be ready here, in 
 this, the dining-room and kitchen." 
 
 So Melia went off, and was interested in the simplicity of 
 his sleeping arrangements. 
 
 A narrow mattress upon an iron bedstead, a little mirror 
 near the window, a lamp, and a few books in a foreign 
 language this was nearly all that the room held. 
 
 When she went back to the kitchen, or dining-room, the 
 table was laid, but laid only for two, and Melia commented, 
 as usual, frankly. 
 
 " Who s odd man out ? " she asked. " If you d told me,
 
 CANDID UM SORACTE 303 
 
 I d have brought something to make up, Cap n Peters. 
 Isn t there enough ? " 
 
 " Some grouse, some hare, some rabbit, some vegetables 
 and potatoes," Mr. Peters told her, " yes, there is enough." 
 
 " Well, then," Melia demanded, " what s wrong ? " 
 
 " I do not eat now," he explained, " not until night." 
 
 " It ll be dull work watching, won t it ? " she asked, but 
 Mr. Peters assured her that it would not be so, and Melia 
 tried not to feel offended, and chatted as they ate, while 
 Kivers paid no attention at all, being occupied with dinner 
 and his own thoughts, which began to suggest more golden 
 possibilities. 
 
 It was a kind of faint shadow of old custom, superstition, 
 what you will, that held Peters back that afternoon, and 
 kept him fasting. Rivers was Eivers, or rather, Bun 
 combe ; and, in his host s opinion, had no claim upon the 
 laws of hospitality. But with Melia it was different. 
 
 True, she was her father s child, and he looked constantly, 
 indeed eagerly, to see her prove it, in some such way as 
 should let him think of the two as one. But Melia was 
 rather her mother s child, and her father had had decent 
 people as ancestors. The two were not one, could not be 
 thought of, or treated, as one ; and Mr. Peters, prepared 
 to go very far in the transaction of his business, yet drew 
 the line, oddly enough, at the trivial point of eating in his 
 own house with a girl who knew so little of him and of his 
 thoughts as Melia did, and who yet trusted him so much. 
 
 So, father and daughter ate by themselves, and Peters 
 talked away so readily about one thing and another that 
 Melia, though she was strangely vexed at his fasting, in 
 time almost forgot that. 
 
 " Well, we ve left some for your supper, anyway," she told 
 him, when they had ended the meal. " Where you get these 
 nice things from, up here, I can t tell." 
 
 " They are at my door," said Mr. Peters calmly, lighting
 
 304 MR. PETERS 
 
 the cigarette, which he had been twisting in his fingers, 
 when he saw they had finished. 
 
 " What ! " Melia had never thought of that. " You 
 don t mean to say you catch em ? " 
 
 Mr. Peters nodded. " Why not ? " 
 
 " That s poaching, isn t it ? " asked Melia, wide-eyed. 
 
 " I believe so," Mr. Peters allowed. " What then ? " 
 
 " You re breaking the laws of the country ! " 
 
 " Not my laws, nor my country," he told her, with a sort 
 of contempt. " Look at your laws. Poof ! " and blowing a 
 little cloud of smoke, he waved it away with his open hand. 
 " That for your laws ! " he told her. " It is clearer without 
 them." 
 
 Rivers, who had been helping himself generously to Mr. 
 Peters spirits, applauded with vigor. " An effete country, 
 with effete laws, my dear Captain Peters," he agreed. 
 " That is why I left my Alma Mater (did I ever tell you ?) 
 a little sooner than was customary. Young blood has noth 
 ing in common with picturesque ruins, my dear sir. You 
 haven t one of those excellent cigars about you, have you ? 
 My little Em ly has been so carefully brought up that she 
 won t let her father get his cigars on tick ! Well, well ! we 
 sha n t be there much longer, shall we, Em ly ? " and 
 Rivers, chuckling, winked knowingly at Peters, who made 
 no response. 
 
 " Don t know, I m sure," said Melia, and, to give the 
 conversation a turn, got up from her chair, and, going to the 
 window, asked Mr. Peters the name of the hill opposite. 
 
 Mr. Peters didn t know and didn t care, but the question 
 served its purpose, and Melia began wandering about the 
 room, with a notion of putting things straight. She cleared 
 the table and went outside, leaving the men for ten minutes 
 or so, but not going out of sight of the cottage. Then she 
 came back, for it was already getting much colder. The two 
 men were still talking and smoking by the fire. Perhaps
 
 CANDIDUM SORACTE 305 
 
 most of the talking was done by Elvers, who was speaking 
 as Melia came in. 
 
 " It must be very dull up here alone ? " he suggested. 
 
 Peters only shrugged his shoulders, but Rivers protested 
 that it must be. 
 
 " Though two," he suggested, " to keep one another com 
 pany, might be very snug." 
 
 Peters, staring at the fire, with his legs stretched out be 
 fore him, puffed away slowly, and said nothing. 
 
 " How do you pass the time alone ? " asked Rivers, 
 anxious for his friend s comfort. 
 
 " There is tobacco," Peters told him, after consideration, 
 " there are books, a few, and there are cards. I play alone, 
 you know. You have seen me." 
 
 " Ah, yes. I know your game," and Rivers laughed 
 rather condescendingly, having never taken to it. 
 
 " Do you ? " Mr. Peters asked gravely, and then, as if 
 recollecting himself, " ah ! I had forgotten. Yes, you know 
 my game." 
 
 " We are so thoughtful," said Rivers, in what he intended 
 to be a light, bantering manner, but which had very little 
 ease or carelessness about it. " We are so thoughtful, and so 
 retiring, that, I suppose, we couldn t put up a friend for a 
 night ? " 
 
 " I might," Mr. Peters told him, " if he asked me." 
 
 " If he asked ! " Rivers delicacy was shocked at the 
 notion, and, before he could get over it, Melia chimed in. 
 
 " Go along, Cap n Peters," she told him, " where d you 
 put anybody ? " 
 
 " It depends," Mr. Peters said, after consideration, " upon 
 who was the body." 
 
 " You ve only one bed," Melia insisted, " I ve been in 
 there, you know," jerking her head towards the other room. 
 
 "Oh, I could make another," Mr. Peters told her, and 
 then stopped talking suddenly, struck by Melia s occupa- 
 
 30
 
 806 MR. PETERS 
 
 tion, just when, for conversation s sake, she was beginning 
 to discuss the point further. 
 
 " What are you doing there ? " he asked, harshly. 
 
 " Me ? I m just putting a stitch in this for you," Melia 
 answered, rather surprised at his manner, and held up for 
 inspection a torn flannel shirt, which she had found lying 
 about, and had begun to darn. 
 
 To her astonishment Mr. Peters rose, and, crossing the 
 room, took it from her, and not only took it, but deliberately 
 tore apart the stitches which she had already made. 
 
 " Well, I never," said poor Melia, u what s that for ? " 
 
 " I never asked of you to do it for me," Peters told her. 
 " I never asked of you to do anything for me. You can 
 not say that I did." 
 
 " W y, no ! " Melia allowed, " I never said you did, 
 did I ? That s no reason for not doing it, is it ? I don t 
 know what you re driving at, Cap n Peters. What have I 
 done ? " 
 
 Rivers sat half turned from the fire, watching them with 
 out any interference. Melia could take care of herself he 
 thought, so far as he thought of the matter at all, and he 
 was not going to run the risk of offending Peters. When 
 Melia looked at him, saying nothing but hoping for help 
 towards an explanation, he moved round again without a 
 word, and Melia turned from him. 
 
 " I ll have a walk," she announced, to whomsoever it con 
 cerned. " When you re ready to go back, father, you can 
 shout. It s near time for starting." 
 
 She went to the other room, and, putting on her hat, 
 passed out alone, while Peters stared at the hills from the 
 window, and Rivers shifted uneasily by the fire. 
 
 " She s a silly, meddling little fool," Rivers said, apolo 
 getically, at last. " What did she do ? She shall apologize 
 presently." 
 
 He did not look round, and so lost the scowl with which
 
 CAND1DUM SORACTE 307 
 
 Mr. Peters, at that moment, was favoring him, and, when 
 the latter spoke, there was no sign of trouble in his voice. 
 
 " It is your language that I cannot speak," he explained, 
 " and my foolishness. What have I done ? The woman 
 who waits on me, I pay her to do all these things. Why 
 should anyone else trouble for me ? That was all I meant." 
 
 " Em ly s so hasty," Eivers told him. " She didn t wait 
 to understand. It comes from her mother, Captain Pe 
 ters. She was a good soul, but, well, a rough diamond, you 
 know." 
 
 If Mr. Peters thought anything, complimentary or other 
 wise, of this man who was so ready to summarize the dead 
 woman, his wife, for a stranger s edification, his face did 
 not show it. His features were smooth once more, and so 
 was his voice as he answered 
 
 " I will explain to her presently," he said, " and she shall 
 come in for a cup of tea, before you go." 
 
 He filled the kettle, and put it upon the fire ; then went 
 out into the growing dusk, found Melia, and apologized for 
 his awkwardness. Melia relented at once, and came in. 
 
 " I s p ose I m a silly," she told him as she came, " but 
 truly, I thought I d make you mad with me, somehow." 
 
 " How could you think so ? " Mr. Peters protested. 
 
 " I don t know, I m sure, for I didn t mean any harm. 
 Anyway it s all right, isn t it ? " 
 
 Mr. Peters assured her that it was all right, and that 
 everything was due to his ignorance of the niceties of the 
 English language, but nothing would persuade him to let 
 Melia perform the little service which she had begun. 
 
 She drank her tea in silence, Mr. Peters refusing to join, 
 and then a thing happened to make her wonder more than 
 ever. 
 
 Mr. Peters, cutting bread quickly, perhaps to allow some 
 suppressed feeling an outlet, chopped so viciously that he 
 gashed his hand badly. He said nothing, but had to put
 
 308 MR. PETERS 
 
 down the loaf, and Melia saw the blood well out before it 
 could be hidden. 
 
 " My gracious ! " she exclaimed, and began searching in a 
 pocket till she produced triumphantly a little case of plaster, 
 with a bandage and safety pins. 
 
 " I ve carried it for years," she exclaimed joyfully, " ever 
 since ambulance lectures, and no one, not a living soul, 
 would ever go and do anything for me to put right." 
 
 By this time she was round at Mr. Peters side of the 
 table, trying to get hold of the injured hand, which he had 
 covered with a handkerchief. 
 
 " That s not the way," she told him. " Let me do it," 
 but Mr. Peters waved her off. 
 
 " It is nothing," he insisted. " This will do. Go on with 
 your tea." 
 
 " Look ! " Melia answered indignantly, pointing to where 
 the blood already came through the folded handkerchief. 
 " Call that nothing ? " and when he still, none too civilly, 
 told her to let him alone, Melia grew sarcastic. " If you re 
 under contract to give that woman who tends you all your 
 cut fingers, as well as your torn shirts, why I won t steal 
 her customer, and I hope she ll make a good job of it. But 
 if I m to understand that I m no friend o yours, and it s 
 for that you won t lemme touch you, or any o your belong 
 ings, why, speak plain and let s know it." 
 
 " Let Captain Peters alone, Em ly," Eivers told her. 
 " Where are your manners ? " 
 
 But Mr. Peters, after frowning back at Melia s angry 
 face, gave way, though most ungraciously, and Melia had 
 the pleasure of putting on a pad and bandage, secundum 
 artern, with many wise words concerning clean cuts and 
 antiseptics. 
 
 That done, it was high time to be going, but, after they 
 had gone some steps from the threshold, Kivers hurried 
 back for a last word.
 
 CANDIDUM SORACTE 309 
 
 " I m an old campaigner," he told Mr. Peters, shaking his 
 hand warmly, " and the town stifles me at times. I shall 
 be ready, and glad, to come up for a night, and rough it any 
 time that you d like a friend for company. What does a 
 bed matter ? With a pipe and a little whiskey, and perhaps 
 a game if \ve felt we wanted variety, a night would pass up 
 here before a man knew it had begun ! " and then, diving 
 into the white mist that rose from the hollow, he disap 
 peared.
 
 CHAPTER XLII 
 
 FOR LOVE! 
 
 THAT Christmas vacation Tom Dunbar declared to his 
 people, in the south of England, that he could take no holi 
 days, and persisted in his heroic resolve, in spite of a pa 
 thetic letter from his mother, entreating him to remember 
 that health is the greatest of blessings. The letter included 
 a few words upon the efficacy of a certain tonic, home-made, 
 in which old sherry took a prominent place. She said that 
 two bottles had been packed for him, with a plum-pudding, 
 a cake, and other products of home industry, and that he 
 must be a good fellow, and be sure not to work on Christmas 
 Day at anyrate. She also sent a bank-note for Christmas 
 expenses, and when Tom had mastered the contents of that 
 letter he felt a condemned fraud. 
 
 Of course he was going to work; there wasn t a doubt of 
 it in his mind, but whether it was his work that kept him in 
 Edinburgh just then was quite another matter. If it were 
 not for Nell, Tom would have been at home most certainly, 
 shooting, hunting, or skating, according to weather and 
 opportunity. 
 
 Troubled with an uneasy conscience after reading the let 
 ter, he tried to soothe it by a morning in the infirmary 
 wards, and by that roundabout route he became aware of 
 the existence of Melia. For, coming thence, he asked a fel 
 low-student for a cigarette, and was handed a case full of 
 " Dreams." 
 
 " Where do you get these ? " Tom asked, and his friend 
 told him, adding " Jolly little girl who sells em, too, but as 
 hard as nails, and with that verdict went his own way.
 
 FOR LOVE! 311 
 
 So Tom, who had finished the packet of cigarettes pre 
 sented to him by Lucius, and had gone through a hot dis 
 cussion with him on their price and merits, which had left 
 him wondering at that worthy s interest therein, went down 
 and made Melia s acquaintance, and, having made it, went 
 again at odd times and more frequently than was necessary, 
 scenting a mystery. 
 
 " Seems to me you can t be very busy," Melia told him 
 with her usual candor one day, but on being assured that it 
 was holiday time, said no more. 
 
 By reason of irregularity, he, at one time and another, 
 met Melia s other visitors. One morning it was Archie, 
 deep in argument, and Archie glowered when he came, and 
 stayed till he went. Then it was Rivers, who insisted upon 
 introducing himself and Balliol to the obvious distress 
 of poor Melia. Another time it was Mr. Peters, calling for 
 tobacco on his way hillward, and with him Tom chatted, his 
 professional eye being caught by the bandaged hand. 
 
 Then, near mid-day on Christmas Eve, as he passed by 
 " Sandy," he caught sight of a slim, dainty figure that he 
 knew, and heard a familiar voice say, " Very well, I ll tell 
 them to send round two more plants this afternoon." The 
 figure turned, and there was Nell ! 
 
 Melia had the edifying advantage of seeing how very 
 confused a young lady may appear when suddenly surprised 
 by someone to whom, at appointed times and places, she 
 can seem indifferent enough. Melia had time to store up 
 her impressions, for Tom to her disgust forgot all about 
 buying anything, and straightway insisted upon accom 
 panying Nell home. 
 
 When Tom came back Melia beamed upon him. 
 
 " I thought twas a packet to the bad your going off like 
 that," she informed him, and straightway, to Tom s great 
 joy, began talking of Nell, sure that she had an appreciative 
 audience.
 
 312 MR PETERS 
 
 " Isn t she pretty ? " Melia demanded; " and my ! but 
 she s got a head too. The tips she gives me about working 
 this place ! " and Tom, not having asked Nell what had 
 brought her there, and not having been told, made no com 
 ment, but took his packet of " Dreams " and was interested 
 to find rhymes of his own making upon this new lot. 
 
 " What d you think of em ? " asked Melia, when she saw 
 him reading. "Mr. Moriarty s awful pleased. He told me 
 twas a real clever young chap that wrote em for him," and 
 Tom chuckled, seeing daylight. 
 
 " He ll have to pay for things like that, won t he ? " asked 
 Melia. 
 
 " He ll certainly have to pay," Tom told her; " you may 
 be sure of that." 
 
 " Well, I don t know whether the packets 11 stand any 
 more expenses upon em or not," Melia debated; " there 
 isn t much profit, Mr. Dunbar." 
 
 " I know the fellow who did the writing," Tom admitted, 
 still grinning. " He must be careful not to overcharge, 
 Miss Eivers." 
 
 " P r aps he d take payment in tobacco ? " Melia sug 
 gested. 
 
 " Yes, or something else," Tom thought. " I suppose 
 the fellow who writes the other things on the packets of 
 mixture gets well paid, Miss Kivers ? " 
 
 " Not he," said Melia, promptly, seeing a chance of less 
 ening charges. " Tie does it just for love, Mr. Dunbar. I 
 know that, because all the expenses go down in a book here. 
 Just for love he does it. P r aps your friend, if you told 
 him that, would do the same." 
 
 " Come ! " Tom protested, enjoying himself hugely, and 
 chuckling more than ever ; " you can t expect much done 
 for love, can you ? I think he ll want something in ex 
 change if he can get it ; but he shall know what you say," 
 and off he went to spend a good part of the bank-note in
 
 FOR LOVE! 313 
 
 something in the shape of a Christmas present, which 
 reached Nell, anonymously, next morning. By the time he 
 had done that, and had thought over his morning s occupa 
 tion, the voice of conscience was dumb, and Tom was pre 
 pared to hold that his virtuous determination, to work 
 through Christmas, was already justified by results. 
 
 " That evening, when Lucius called upon Melia to give 
 her a Christmas-box, and to find out what she thought of 
 the new wrappers, he got a shock. 
 
 " I ve sold some already," Melia told him, " and I don t 
 think you ll be overcharged for the poetry, sir." 
 
 " What d ye mean ? " Lucius asked, staring at her, and 
 running his fingers through his hair, until it stood in an 
 astonished fringe. 
 
 " A friend o yours, Mr. Dunbar, was in to-day, by chance, 
 sir." 
 
 " How d ye know he s a friend o mine ? " growled Lu 
 cius. 
 
 " Miss Moriarty was here about some more plants two 
 for the window," Melia explained, " and he came in." 
 
 " By golly ! " Lucius ejaculated under his breath, " the 
 fat s in the fire. I never thought o that ! What next ? " 
 he demanded. 
 
 " Well, after Miss Moriarty was gone, Mr. Dunbar took 
 one o the new packets. He smokes em regular, sir." 
 
 " By golly ! the divil he does ? " 
 
 " And he ses," Melia went on, being accustomed to Mori- 
 arty s muttered comments, " that he knows the gentleman 
 who wrote this poetry. I told him you said he was awful 
 clever." 
 
 " Oh ! go on," Lucius groaned. 
 
 " And I told him that the poetry upon the packets of 
 mixture was done for love for nothing I mean so that 
 his friend must be moderate in his charges," Melia con 
 cluded triumphantly, and Lucius, finding his feelings too
 
 314 MR. PETERS 
 
 much for him, hurriedly presented the Christmas-box, told 
 her not to open the shop next day, and made his escape. 
 On his doorstep he considered the matter once more, and 
 summed up thus 
 
 " Th young rascal has the whip-hand o me now. The 
 other poetry he ll know was mine, if I didn t pay for it. 
 Good stuff like that isn t got for nothing, though I say it 
 as shouldn t. By golly ! "
 
 CHAPTER XLIII 
 
 CHRISTMAS PRESENTS 
 
 WHILE Nelly, on Christmas morning, was smiling over 
 a silver waist-buckle, and blushing a little at the unsigned 
 sonnet that came with it, Melia also was rejoicing. 
 
 She had decided to take her breakfast in bed that morn 
 ing " like a lady," and had persuaded her landlady, who had 
 a grim, undemonstrative liking for her, to bring it up. 
 
 As the time came for its appearance, there was a bumping 
 and a banging upon the stair outside, and Melia, already 
 very wide-awake and hungry, and not sure that breakfast in 
 bed was desirable after all, became anxious for its safety. 
 
 " Do be careful," she called out, sitting up in the bed, 
 " or you ll drop the tray, and where ll my tea be then ? " 
 
 But the banging and the bumping went on, until the door 
 was pushed open, and the panting Mrs. Meiklejohn ap 
 peared, struggling, not with the breakfast tray, but with a 
 new bicycle. 
 
 " Thocht ye d maybe like yer Christmas first," she an 
 nounced, and Melia, being untrained in the repression of 
 emotion, fairly yelled. 
 
 " Not for me ! " she assured Mrs. Meiklejohn. " Oh, it 
 can t be for me ! Oh, what a beauty ! Take it away out 
 of my sight, do ! " 
 
 " To Miss Rivers," retorted Mrs. Meiklejohn, " and no 
 chairges." Melia, still refusing to believe, had her name 
 pointed out, written upon a ticket on the handle-bar. 
 
 " Who s it from ? Where s it from ? " 
 
 " A dinna ken. Yer faither, maybe ! " suggested Mrs. 
 Meiklejohn, who had once seen Rivers. Then she left the
 
 316 MR. PETERS 
 
 room with what, for her, was a smile, and fetched Melia s 
 breakfast up, reminding her, sarcastically, that she had said 
 she was going to church. 
 
 " Arid so I will ! " Melia insisted. " Christmas is Christ 
 mas where I come from," and then sighed to think that the 
 bicycle must remain untried for three or four hours. So 
 she went to church, and did her best to keep bicycles out of 
 her mind while there ; then, coming home like the wind, 
 changed her dress, and tried her new treasure over three or 
 four miles of the cleanest road obtainable. 
 
 She could not decide who had sent it. There were three 
 persons possible Eivers, Peters, and Archie. She would 
 not let herself acknowledge that Eivers was the least likely, 
 was indeed almost impossible. She determined to say 
 nothing, until she had seen whether anyone would mention 
 the matter. 
 
 Then in the middle of the Queensferry Road she was 
 suddenly struck by an idea that had never entered her head 
 before. If it wasn t her father if it was Cap n Peters 
 or still worse, if it was Archie who sent the bicycle, what 
 right had she to take such a present ? Poor Melia, dis 
 mayed, looked down at the flying wheel before her, and saw 
 on it unmistakable signs of her journey. 
 
 " What can I do now ? " she wondered. " Any fool can 
 see I ve used it. Second-hand ! That s what it is now, 
 and I don t know where it came from, nor if I can keep it." 
 
 This rather depressed her, but she got home very hungry 
 nevertheless, and spent a great part of the time between 
 dinner and tea in cleaning and admiring the bicycle. 
 
 In the evening, who should visit her but Rivers and 
 Mr. Peters. Rivers would not have come, if it had not 
 been for Mr. Peters. Melia thought Mr. Peters had come 
 in from the hills specially for the purpose of wishing her a 
 merry Christmas, and was unnecessarily grateful to both. 
 
 " When ll you get back ? " she asked Peters.
 
 CHRISTMAS PRESENTS 317 
 
 " Not to-night," he told her. " I wish to see you good 
 people when you are gay. This is the happy time when 
 you are all gay, and love one another, is it not ? " 
 
 " I don t know," Melia answered, considering. " It may 
 be so where you come from, Cap n Peters, but here I think 
 one s feelin s is much the same as usual. Friends 11 be 
 kind " (here she thought of the bicycle), and enemies well, 
 enemies may wish you a merry Christmas, for the look o the 
 thing, but I don t s pose it counts for much. Now I come 
 to think of it, you never wished me a merry Christmas." 
 
 " It is over, is it not ? " asked Mr. Peters. " I hope you 
 have had one." 
 
 " Oh, I count it till the New Year," Melia insisted. 
 " Wish me a merry Christmas, Cap n Peters; come, now, or 
 I shall think you re vexed with me still for that," and she 
 pointed to his left hand, now adorned with sticking plaster. 
 
 " Ah ! I owe you for that," he told her, looking at it, 
 however, without any great appearance of satisfaction. 
 " From now till the New Year, you say. A whole week ? 
 But I like to pay my debts in full, and over. I wish you a 
 merry Christmas." 
 
 " Well, I can t see that it s paying anything very dear, 
 just to wish a body a merry Christmas," Melia insisted. 
 " Still, as you don t owe me nothing, we won t quarrel 
 about that." 
 
 " Let us make it merry," Peters suggested. " Can we 
 not go anywhere, to see all the good people happy ? Come, 
 I will give you the evening for a Christmas present, and the 
 good Rivers will guard our ways. Where shall we go ? " 
 
 " I don t know that father pretends to be good, any more 
 than other people, do you, father ? " Melia said, irritably. 
 " I wish you wouldn t be always usin that word, Cap n 
 Peters. It makes me cross somehow." 
 
 " I thought you and I were going to have a quiet evening 
 by the fire in my room, to-night," Rivers broke in, frowning
 
 318 MR. PETERS 
 
 at Mr. Peters. " It s a beastly night, and there ll be crowds 
 everywhere/ 
 
 " We want crowds," Peters pointed out, ignoring the sig 
 nals, " crowds of happy people. Come ! It is my Christ 
 mas present." 
 
 " Oh ! that s your Christmas present ? " Melia said. 
 " Well, that settles something else, anyway. Yes, I ll come 
 if father will." 
 
 " Oh, he will come," Mr. Peters decided. " We can have 
 a chat by the fire, your father and I, and drink our healths 
 after we have brought you back. He will give you his 
 company for three hours, the good or, let us say, the gen 
 erous Rivers. That is his Christmas present." 
 
 Melia looked anxiously at llivers, who, somewhat 
 cheered by the prospect of a profitable evening later on, 
 said that he would come, of course, and that Em ly must 
 choose some little thing, not too expensive, say half-a- 
 crown, to-night or to-morrow, as a present from her poor 
 father. 
 
 " That settles it ! " Melia announced, half to herself, and 
 went from Mrs. Meikle John s little sitting-room, where she 
 had received her visitors, to put on her cloak. She now 
 knew where the bicycle came from, at anyrate. What she 
 should do about it, Melia couldn t decide. It is certain 
 that she never thought of consulting either her father or 
 Mr. Peters, both of whom presently sallied out with her in 
 search of amusement. 
 
 It was to the Waverley Market they went that night for 
 their crowd and found it. 
 
 To the sounds of brass bands, hurdy-gurdys, bagpipes, 
 steam-whistles, showmen s calls, the cries of wild beasts, 
 and those of that superior animal, man, on the rampage, 
 Melia went the round. 
 
 She saw the Beheaded Lady, looking remarkably com 
 posed, the Missing Link, the Fat Boy, and the Living Skel-
 
 CHRISTMAS PRESENTS 319 
 
 eton. She fired six shots at the dancing glass balls, without 
 shrieking, which was considered unwomanly by Annie, 
 from the House of Residence, who stood near and tried to 
 make out what brought together " Old Rivers," the stony 
 hearted Mr. Peters, and this forward thing, who, the char 
 itable Annie felt certain, was no better than she should be. 
 
 But, in the seething mass that filled the place, Annie lost 
 sight of them, shoved hither and thither in a good-tempered 
 way as everyone was, by everyone else. 
 
 Melia afterwards careered in a dignified manner upon 
 the merry-go-round, and at last, when Rivers had begun to 
 grumble, stood before the gypsy-tent. 
 
 " Reel gypsies ? " asked Melia. " Oh, my ! I ve never 
 had my fortune told, Cap n Peters ! " 
 
 Melia s remark was overheard by a man standing at the 
 tent-door, and he turned to her at once. 
 
 " Now s the time then, miss ! No time like the present. 
 Walk in while grandmother s got the fit on her. Lord ! the 
 beautiful things she s promised to-night, to young ladies 
 not half so good-looking. Walk in, miss, and get a golden 
 fortune told you for a bit of silver. You ve a lucky face, 
 and don t you go and throw it away." 
 
 The fellow had a dark eye and a roguish air. He looked 
 at Melia with bold admiration. " You might wait a twelve 
 month and not get such a chance," he told her. " Will 
 you miss a fortune for a shilling or so ? " 
 
 " We ve spent enough already," said Melia, peering into 
 the tent and its mysterious shadows. " Ain t it shuddery- 
 like, Cap n Peters ? Will you get your fortune told ? Do 
 you believe in it ? v 
 
 " N"o," Mr. Peters said, disregarding the filial pride of 
 the dark-eyed man at the tent-door ; " no, it is humbug, 
 altogether." 
 
 " Hark to the gentleman ! " said the dark-eyed man. 
 " It s easy to see lie s never had a fortune told. Go in, sir,
 
 320 MR. PETERS 
 
 and see what the new year ll give to you. There s changes 
 in it for you. I can read that, though I ve not got the sight 
 like my grandmother, nothing like. Take him in, lady, and 
 let grandmother tell him what he can expect." 
 
 " I d like to hear your fortune, Oap n Peters, a most as 
 well as my own," Melia declared, politely, " but if you 
 don t believe in it, of course, you won t go in an throw 
 money away, as you may say." 
 
 Mr. Peters was in a generous mood, however, and looked 
 at it in a different light. 
 
 " If I believed," he explained, " I would not go in, but 
 since I know it is humbug, what does it matter ? It is 
 your night, your merry Christmas. Come ! " so they all 
 three passed in, Melia protesting, half-heartedly, against 
 the extravagance as she went. 
 
 A thing, that might be an old woman, or might be a 
 bundle of old clothes, sat silent and indistinct among the 
 shadows, just inside the door. 
 
 A youngish woman, standing by a little stove, with her 
 back to the entrance, muttered over the hand of an open- 
 mouthed, wide-eyed country lass. 
 
 She finished hurriedly as the others came in, and turned 
 to them, but the bundle of clothes near the entrance rose 
 and came forward, showing itself to be a very old, black- 
 eyed, skinny creature, wrinkled like a dry apple. 
 
 The younger woman drew back, as the other stood before 
 them, looking with bright bird-like eyes from one to the 
 other. 
 
 " Come along, Cap n Peters ! she s waitin for you," 
 Melia said in a hushed voice ; but Mr. Peters, quite unim 
 pressed, "as if he was at ome," as Melia told him after 
 wards, insisted that she must be first. 
 
 Melia, still faintly protesting but very much excited, 
 held out her hand, the necessary silver being produced by 
 Mr. Peters, while Pavers stood by, and sneered in a superior
 
 CHRISTMAS PRESENTS 321 
 
 manner, listening, nevertheless, to hear what Fortune 
 would bestow upon his daughter. The gypsy waved both 
 the men back, and then gave Melia a prediction, concern 
 ing fair and dark gentlemen, that kept her alternately smil 
 ing and sober-faced for the rest of the evening. 
 
 Then came Peters, and while the woman peered into his 
 large hand, Melia stood by unrebuked. She heard little of 
 interest. 
 
 " Born under Mars and Venus," the woman told him, 
 " and you re a gentleman with a will of your own," which 
 the average observer could have guessed, without seeing 
 his hand. " A free-handed gentleman," the gypsy con 
 tinued. 
 
 "You re that, Cap n Peters," Melia certified. "You 
 know you are. Now, how can she tell ? " and was much 
 impressed, not having taken into account the probable 
 effect upon the gypsy s opinions of the two liberal tips out 
 of Mr. Peters pocket. The woman went on about business, 
 journeys in foreign lands, much to be settled in the coming 
 year, and ended up with a safe prediction. 
 
 " You ll take another voyage before the next year s out, 
 Captain," she told him, and Mr. Peters laughed. He cer 
 tainly would take another voyage, he thought, directly his 
 business was ended, and turned to go. 
 
 But the old woman had already fastened upon Eivers, 
 who, although sulky at being kept from a more profitable 
 amusement, was not so determined to resist her blandish 
 ments as he had been. 
 
 " Come, lady ! " the old crone insisted, " make the gen 
 tleman listen to me, there s a pretty deary." 
 
 " A shilling 11 do it, father, after what she s got from 
 Cap n Peters already," Melia suggested, and Eivers gave 
 way. 
 
 " The hand of a gentleman born," the woman told him. 
 " You ve had your ups and your downs, you ve got your 
 21
 
 322 Mil. PETERS 
 
 friends and your enemies, but you ll come to your own in 
 the end." 
 
 " Own what ? " asked Melia, breathless, but the gypsy 
 shook her head. 
 
 " His rights, dearie, I don t know what. Maybe a for 
 tune, maybe the House o Lords, 1 can t tell. But there s 
 many things 11 happen. I see gold and I see a journey, and 
 I can t see any more for the money." 
 
 Finding Rivers regardless of the hint, she dropped his 
 hand, and, collapsing into her seat, became once more a 
 mere bundle of cast-off clothing, inanimate, and deaf to 
 the entreaties of Melia for more prophecy. 
 
 " It s no use, lady," said the dark-eyed doorkeeper, pok 
 ing his head inside the tent, with a grin, " the fit s off 
 her now, and she won t say no more, not though the Queen 
 comes an kneels down before her, she s that contrary. 
 Alf-a-crown might do it, but no less." 
 
 That sum was not forthcoming, and the three of them 
 went away, Mr. Peters commenting as they went, perhaps 
 to himself, perhaps to Melia, upon the dark-eyed man s 
 opinion of the relative persuasive values of Her Most Gra 
 cious Majesty and of half-a-crown.
 
 CHAPTER XLIV 
 
 UNDEH EXAMINATION 
 
 MELIA S Merry Christmas time was nearly over, for it 
 was now the day before New Year s Eve. The shortest day 
 having passed, winter tightened his grip upon the land, 
 as a man when past his prime may grip gold, and the lochs 
 and pools were ice-bound. Then (it being an ill wind that 
 blows nobody good), while the aged, the ill-fed, and the 
 weakly cramped themselves together shrinking from a 
 touch which for them was the touch of death the lusty 
 and full-blooded, the fittest, fated to survive, came out to 
 face the ice king, and felt the better for doing so. 
 
 That day a party met for lunch at Lucius Moriarty s 
 table, with the purpose of skating afterwards on Dudding- 
 ston Loch. 
 
 Madge Murray had persuaded Nell to invite Mr. Peters, 
 and Nell had also invited Tom Dunbar, telling herself that 
 it was his vacation, and that he had been a good fellow to 
 stay and work all through Christmas. 
 
 Lucius came up from his office for lunch, certain ships 
 being ice-bound somewhere, and he being in consequence 
 not, so busy as usual. 
 
 " It s a poor heart that never rejoices," he told Madge 
 Murray. " If I can t see me ships, T can see me friends," 
 and Madge, always quick to see a compliment, whether 
 expressed or implied, laughed, and said she was glad to be 
 a consolation. 
 
 " Faith ! " Lucius declared. " Consolation, is it ? Why, 
 a few smiles like that 11 keep me heart warm for the rest o 
 this most inclement season. I don t know that I ought to 
 let Nell go wid ye on the ice at all, at all ! "
 
 324 MR. PETERS 
 
 Why not ? " asked Madge, spying another compliment, 
 and smiling upon the gallant Moriarty. 
 
 " The ice 11 melt under the eyes of ye ! " Lucius de 
 clared, and then, having rebuked Nell for laughing at him, 
 went off to his office again, and the others started for the ice. 
 
 Since Madge was now bestowing her smiles and her con 
 versation entirely upon Mr. Peters, Nell felt bound to walk 
 with Tom Dunbar. 
 
 " It s awfully good of you to invite me," he told her. 
 
 " I wanted to talk to you," Nell explained, and then, 
 seeing he looked unduly jubilant, " to scold you," she added 
 severely. 
 
 " Let s put it off until we come back," Tom suggested 
 meekly. 
 
 " Best get it over, I think," Nell decided, with great 
 firmness. " Have you been sending any Christmas pres 
 ents ? " 
 
 " Let me see," Tom reflected carefully, with a vacant 
 stare, as at some far distant period. " Yes, I sent the 
 Mater a card." 
 
 " Anything else ? " Nell demanded, watching him nar 
 rowly. 
 
 " No," Tom assured her, serenely. " She doesn t like to 
 get more than a card, she says, till I m in practice." 
 
 " I didn t mean that," Nell told him, speaking pretty 
 sharply because she felt sure the scamp was laughing at 
 her. " I mean, did you send any other presents ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Tom cheerfully, " I sent a knife to my 
 young brother, and I know he ll cut his fingers before the 
 New Year ; I sent a box of chocolate to Trida (that s 
 my youngest sister, you know), and a book to Trix, who s 
 the oldest." 
 
 " Anything more ? " Tom began to feel as if he were at 
 tlio Confessional. 
 
 " Well," he allowed, with an air of polite surprise, " I
 
 UNDER EXAMINATION 325 
 
 sent a card, a funny one, to Mary Ann, but I forget the 
 words or I d repeat em. You don t know Mary Ann, do 
 you ? She s our old cook. Her surname is Brown. The 
 errand boys call her Missis Brown though she isn t mar 
 ried just to natter her. She s one of eleven in a family. 
 I wish I could remember the rhymes, but if you ll let me 
 think a minute He stopped, still showing an air of 
 
 innocent and polite surprise, for Nell, much against her 
 will, had begun to laugh. 
 
 " That will do," she told him. " It s very good of you to 
 tell me so much. You sent nothing else worth mentioning, 
 I suppose ? " 
 
 " No," Tom shook his head soberly, after consideration, 
 " I sent nothing else worth mentioning." 
 
 " Christmas presents are a nuisance in some ways, don t 
 you think ? " Nell asked him. 
 
 " I don t find em so," Tom declared, sturdily. " Sorry 
 if you do." 
 
 " Well, I do," Nell insisted, " particularly when I have to 
 send them back." 
 
 " What do you send em back for ? " demanded Tom, so 
 much interested that he cannoned against another man on 
 the pavement, and had to apologize. " What on earth do 
 you send them back for ? " he repeated, as soon as he had 
 recovered his balance. 
 
 " Oh, well," said Nell, demurely, " I ll tell you what I 
 mean. Do look where you re going though, or you ll knock 
 someone down ! " 
 
 This was probable, for Tom, in his anxiety to watch her 
 face, had charged another unoffending wayfarer into the 
 road. 
 
 " Deuce of a lot of room these people want ! " he mut 
 tered to himself, and then asked Nell to explain. 
 
 " I had a present sent from a shop in Princes Street," she 
 told him, " and, of course, I must take it back and explain
 
 326 MR. PETERS 
 
 to them that I can t keep it, because I don t know from 
 whom it came." 
 
 " Would you keep it if you did know ? " asked Tom. 
 
 " That depends. What could I use it for ? " 
 
 The device was simple enough, but Tom blundered at 
 once. " I should think it might do well enough for a belt," 
 he suggested, and Nell at once turned upon him. 
 
 " What might ? " 
 
 " You said didn t you say ? " 
 
 "Well! goon." 
 
 " I thought you said what it was," Tom explained. 
 
 " What did you think I said it was ? " 
 
 " Something for a belt." 
 
 " A silver buckle, for example ? No, I hadn t mentioned 
 it. How funny that you should happen to hit upon that ! " 
 
 Tom went along in dogged silence for a few yards, and 
 then collapsed. 
 
 " I m an ass," he told her confidentially, " I suppose it s 
 a good thing that I know it. It s no use my trying to hum 
 bug anyone. Of course, I know it s a silver buckle. I sup 
 pose I thought you d be more likely to wear it, if you 
 weren t sure that it came from me. But you might keep 
 a trifle like that, anyway." 
 
 " A trifle, indeed ! and do you call that a trifle ? " asked 
 Nell severely, comforted to find Tom in such a state of 
 abject humility, and she was proceeding to a lecture upon 
 the sin of thoughtless extravagance when, perhaps to her 
 relief, perhaps to Tom s, Mr. Peters intervened. 
 
 He asked some trivial question, but did not quit Nell s 
 side after being answered. Perhaps he thought that a 
 change of society would be pleasant, perhaps he was of 
 opinion that it would be more sociable if the four kept 
 together. At anyrate, he kept near to Tom and Nellie, 
 and, since Madge perforce did the same, the chat became 
 general, and the lecture was indefinitely postponed.
 
 CHAPTER XLV 
 
 DUDDLNGSTON LOCH 
 
 IT was a dusky late afternoon, on Duddingston Loch. 
 The air was still, the smoke hung almost unstirred over 
 the city to the northwest, Arthur s Seat towered white and 
 wintry above the Queen s Drive. 
 
 But, on the ice below, there was a perpetual hum and 
 movement. 
 
 Word had gone abroad that there was skating at Dud 
 dingston, and the whole stretch of ice was thrown open to 
 the crowd, save for some fifty square yards, roped off to the 
 north. That lay quiet and bare, temptingly smooth and 
 unmarked. Ambitious skaters, anxious for a clear space, 
 looked at it longingly, but flitted by, threading a way 
 through the swaying, changing, chattering crowd. There 
 was laughing and shouting from end to end of the loch, 
 with the constant swish, swish, of skate-blades, and the 
 rattle and rush of the curling-stones where the Roaring 
 G-ame was in full swing. 
 
 As the dusk crept on, it brought, to some, a feeling of 
 romance a feeling as if the town, the world, were far away, 
 and they were moving among shadows. .Tom, swinging 
 by Nell s side, swayed a little closer, and gripped her hands 
 more firmly, whilst Xell felt that she could not scold him, 
 just now, about the buckle ; it was altogether too petty for 
 such a time, and found herself wishing that the ice would 
 stretch farther ahead, smooth and untouched for them 
 alone. 
 
 The dusky unreality of everything that night was felt by
 
 328 MR. PETERS 
 
 Madge Murray too. She looked more keenly for admira 
 tion, and, failing to get any satisfactory sign of it from Mr. 
 Peters, fished for it more openly. 
 
 She persuaded him to teach her new figures, and showed, 
 recklessly, how far she was ready to depend upon his hand 
 for safety. 
 
 " I saw your friend at the tobacconist s shop the other 
 clay," she told him, resting after a lesson. 
 
 " So I have heard," said Mr. Peters, undisturbed. 
 
 " She told you, did she ? The young person seems very 
 friendly." 
 
 " With you ? " asked Mr. Peters. 
 
 " Don t be ridiculous ! No, with you." 
 
 " I find many ready to be friendly," Mr. Peters admitted, 
 without any appearance of gratitude. 
 
 " A girl like that, Mr. Peters, soon gets her head turned. 
 She doesn t understand foreign complimentary ways." 
 
 " Ah ! the poor foreigner," said Mr. Peters. " He must 
 always make mistakes outside his own country." 
 
 " Yes, that s quite true," Madge told him. " We all do, 
 and it s only kind, I think, to warn one s friends." 
 
 " I will be more careful," he promised. " Is it right, 
 according to your custom, that I should ask you to skate 
 with me ? " 
 
 He hadn t asked her, and Madge frowned at him before 
 answering, but Mr. Peters was engaged in tying his boot 
 lace. 
 
 " Yes, that s all right," she told him. " It s only when 
 you pay too much attention to anyone of a lower class in 
 society, that silly people talk. Come ! show me that figure 
 again." 
 
 Mr. Peters showed her, and Madge tried it, but had a 
 collision with a scudding, broom-carrying young ragamuf 
 fin, and would have fallen, had she not clutched at the im 
 movable Peters.
 
 DUDDINGSTON LOCH 329 
 
 " You are strong," she said, " but there s no room to do 
 anything here. Let s go just inside that rope." 
 
 " You wish to drown ? " inquired Mr. Peters. 
 
 " I m not a bit afraid of that," Madge insisted. " I m 
 sure it will bear a few, just as well as the rest does. The 
 crowd s afraid to go where there s a rope, and that s all 
 they put it up for." 
 
 Mr. Peters made no answer. He was looking at a familiar 
 figure that stood on the ice near the bank no other than 
 Rivers. That worthy, having met Archie Inch with his 
 skates in Princes Street, had button-holed the young man, 
 and introduced the subject of Melia. If anything in the 
 wide world could have made thoughts of Melia unpleasant 
 to Archie, the presence of her father would have done it. 
 He could not mention to Rivers her incomprehensible ways 
 such ways as, for example, her tearful desire to make 
 so me arrangement for returning the bicycle, which she had 
 refused to ride again. But Rivers, allowed to maunder on 
 unchecked, might let fall some useful hint for Archie s 
 guidance, and they had come down to the loch together, 
 Archie fervently hoping that he might meet no friends by 
 the way. 
 
 Now Archie had become lost in the crowd, and Rivers, 
 when Mr. Peters saw him, was watching the skaters with a 
 critical air, helping himself liberally from a large flask 
 which he had just purchased at the " Sheep s Head," say 
 ing, to an acquaintance who had just slowed up to him, 
 that he saw nothing here to come anywhere near Oxford 
 form. 
 
 The fellow winked to a friend standing by, having heard 
 frequently of Oxford from Rivers, and thinking that he saw 
 a chance of some fun. 
 
 " Skate yourself ? " he asked innocently, and Rivers gave 
 him to understand that, if he chose, he could, even yet, 
 show the skaters of Edinburgh a thing or two.
 
 330 MK. 1 ETERS 
 
 " Pity you ve no skates," suggested the other man, and 
 Elvers, having no skates, but a fair amount of the flask s 
 contents, seemed to think it icas a pity. 
 
 " Dab at figures ? " he asked, cutting a couple of threes 
 without getting out of earshot. Rivers modestly admitted 
 that he had never been anything extraordinary for pace, 
 
 but when it came to figures, well ! "I was president of 
 
 our club," he explained, and the man winked at his friend 
 again. 
 
 " A fellow forgets it all in a year or two," the third man 
 told them. " This gentleman couldn t do a three now to 
 save his life." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense. He could do a simple thing like that 
 now, if he ever could ! " 
 
 " I tell you," declared the third man, " I wouldn t be 
 surprised if he couldn t go from one side 1 to the other 
 without a tumble," and, really, taking into account the 
 crowd, and the flask, and allowing for Rivers noted men 
 dacity, the probability was that he was right. 
 
 The end of it was a bet with Rivers of five shillings to one 
 that he could not skate from one side of the loch to the 
 other without a fall, and another bet, of ten to one, that he 
 would not do a figure of three on his return. 
 
 Mr. Peters, still watching with interest, saw Rivers begin 
 to put on skates borrowed from one of his tempters, and 
 chuckled grimly. 
 
 " So long as his neck is not broken," he thought, " I do 
 not care," and, still watching, repeated his refusal to take 
 Madge beyond the rope. 
 
 " Then I ll go alone," Madge decided. 
 
 " I," said Mr. Peters, " will go, then, to the other end." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " T wish," he told her, " to be as far off as is possible, 
 when you fall in." 
 
 This frank statement, so like the one made upon Leith
 
 DUDDLNGSTON LOCH 331 
 
 Pier in the autumn, must surely be a clumsy attempt at a 
 joke. 
 
 Madge faced him, staring, to see whether any smile 
 contradicted the uncomplimentary speech, but smile there 
 was none. 
 
 Mr. Peters was closely watching a somewhat unsteady 
 figure that, bumping occasionally against some of the 
 crowd, was now half-way across the ice. No man can lie 
 always and altogether. Rivers had once been a skater, of a 
 sort, and, braced by the flask, and the wish to show what he 
 could do, was making a big effort to win the five shillings, 
 and if possible the ten. 
 
 " If other people," said Mr. Peters, still with an eye upon 
 Rivers, " choose to be foolish about their own lives, why 
 should I do anything ? Their lives are, perhaps, worth 
 not a sixpence. My life is very valuable to me. I shall 
 keep it." 
 
 The woman at his side had often expressed her liking for 
 frankness, but plain speech of this kind was different. It 
 was simple rudeness, and, being angry, she began to tell 
 him so, without his seeming to pay any attention. 
 
 Rivers had won his five shillings, and, unduly elated 
 thereby, started to return with bolder more sweeping 
 strokes. He took the edge of the crowd as he came, and, 
 having no collision, increased his speed, passing close by 
 Mr. Peters and Madge. Then, slackening as he reached 
 the disappointed owner of the skates and his friend, he 
 turned on to the outside edge, began the three, tripped 
 over a straw, staggered a step or two backward, was caught 
 behind the knees by the rope, fell over it, and crashing 
 through the ice upon the other side of it. disappeared. 
 
 In the rush and hubbub that followed, Madge clung 
 frantically to Mr. Peters, imploring him not to leave her. 
 The crowd first swayed towards the rope, at the spot where 
 Rivers, who had come to the surface again, was floundering
 
 332 MR. PETERS 
 
 wildly in what would very soon be a death-struggle. Then 
 the ice cracked loudly, under the tremendous weight of the 
 hustling throng, and the people scattered in every direc 
 tion, lest they, too, should find themselves in the water with 
 the choking, struggling, spluttering wretch, who now sank 
 for a second time before their eyes. 
 
 Some tried to loosen the rope over which the man had 
 stumbled, some skated down the ice to fetch other help, but 
 Mr. Peters never stirred. 
 
 At first he laughed, on seeing what had happened, but 
 when the gasping thing before him fought so impotently, 
 he laughed no more. 
 
 He made no answer to Madge, but when, having got over 
 the first sudden fright, she turned to make for the bank, 
 she found that he was leaning one hand heavily upon her, 
 and slipping off his skates and boots together with the 
 other. 
 
 " Xow go ! " he told her, roughly, as the second boot 
 came off, and she went, breathless. 
 
 But Mr. Peters, his eyes fixed upon the rippling, eddying 
 water which covered the drowning man, ran forward a few 
 paces, then throwing himself on his face upon the ice 
 wriggled to the edge of the hole, which now owing to 
 Rivers struggles had got much larger. He hoped that 
 something would come within reach for him to grip, and 
 lay peering intently into the black water, while the crowd 
 shouted and swayed behind him. 
 
 Presently a hand rose, gripping wildly at nothing, and 
 beyond Mr. Peters reach. "Rut the man who waited could 
 wait no longer. He drew a deep breath, and, sliding into 
 the water like a huge seal head foremost, clutched at the 
 other s neck. If he got, and kept, a hold, it was not be 
 cause of any help from Rivers, who clutched at him as 
 only a drowning man can. Even when his head was above 
 water, and Peters was shouting in his ear that he was safe,
 
 DUDDINGSTON LOCH 333 
 
 Elvers struggled as though he would lift himself out alto 
 gether by rising on the other, and once sent Mr. Peters 
 bodily under again. 
 
 When Mr. Peters rose that time he did not try to say any 
 thing, and his face was not pleasant to look upon. He 
 gripped Rivers firmly by the throat with one hand, and the 
 watching crowd saw him deliberately strike the man in 
 the face with his other clenched fist. 
 
 Some women shrieked, but Rivers fought no more, being 
 insensible, and Mr. Peters held on to the edge of the ice, 
 silent and grim, until Tom Dunbar, stretching across a 
 hurdle and held by a rope, shuffled his way along, and 
 hauled both of them out.
 
 CHAPTER XLVI 
 
 CALLED BACK 
 
 SEVERAL hours had now elapsed since Elvers had been 
 dragged ashore. As he lay unconscious in his bed, he 
 moaned and muttered more than once, lifting a hand to the 
 great bruise Mr. Peters sign-manual that had risen on 
 his right temple. 
 
 Where the thinking, responsible part of him strayed, in 
 the long intervals of dumb stillness, one would like to know. 
 All one can be sure of is that, when that part came back 
 from its wandering, it came back unaltered, and the first 
 use Rivers made of his recovered faculties was to ask for 
 something to drink. 
 
 This happened in the small hours of the morning after 
 his exploit. At the querulous sound of his voice, Mr. Peters 
 rose from the fireside, where, by the light of a shaded lamp, 
 he was playing the inevitable game of Patience, and, coming 
 to the bedside, looked down upon him. 
 
 Ah ! the good Rivers. You cannot drown, then ? " 
 
 Rivers stared at him vacantly, and, with one hand wan 
 dering up to his aching head again, asked where he was. 
 
 In your bed." Mr. Peters told him, and Rivers, looking 
 slowly around, seemed at last to recognize things. 
 
 r My head aches like the devil," he said, fretfully. 
 " Have I been drinking ? " 
 
 " Quarts," chuckled Mr. Peters, and Rivers, puzzling over 
 things in a drowsy, muddle-headed way, began slowly to 
 remember.
 
 CALLED BACK 335 
 
 " That was water," he said presently. " It s lying cold 
 on my stomach. Give me whiskey/ and Mr. Peters, making 
 a great parade with the bottle, poured out a very small 
 quantity of spirit, and, diluting it liberally, let him 
 drink. 
 
 But Rivers was discontented and said so, and Mr. Peters 
 therefore had to explain further. 
 
 " it is the doctor s orders," he told his charge, " because 
 of your head." 
 
 " What s wrong ? " Rivers demanded, drowsily, his hand 
 still on his forehead. 
 
 " You were so strong and so brave," Mr. Peters told him, 
 laughing softly again, " you wished to drown, I think. But 
 I did not, so I hit you." 
 
 " What a d d awkward thing to do," Rivers muttered. 
 " Give me a little more, anyway." 
 
 " Xot a drop," Mr. Peters declared, not at all troubled by 
 the rescued man s verdict upon his action. " I have pulled 
 you out of the water, my good, grateful Rivers, and you 
 shall not fall into the whiskey. Then I should have got wet 
 for nothing. Now, sleep ! " and Rivers, finding that Mr. 
 Peters had returned to the fire and to Patience, and that he 
 would make no reply to any question, presently dropped off 
 to sleep, and woke no more until day had begun. 
 
 All that time Mr. Peters kept watch over him, mostly 
 sitting by the fire, amusing himself with the cards, and 
 smoking an occasional cigarette. Now and then he would 
 look across at the sleeper. Twice he rose, and, crossing the 
 room to the bedside, satisfied himself that his patient was 
 doing well. A more attentive nurse than Mr. Peters could 
 not be desired by any man. He trod the room as softly as 
 any cat could have done, and watched the unconscious 
 Rivers as carefully as though he had been a mouse. But 
 when the latter, waking again, was more grateful, and de 
 clared himself quite recovered except for a headache, Mr.
 
 336 MR. PETERS 
 
 Peters watched no longer, but went off to his own room for a 
 nap, contenting himself with Rivers promise that he would 
 not move until the doctor had called but taking the whis 
 key bottle with him.
 
 CHAPTER XLVII 
 
 NEW YEAR AT THE TUON 
 
 LATE on New Year s Eve, Rivers, somewhat against 
 the doctor s orders, left the House of Residence, and, well 
 wrapped up and accompanied by Mr. Peters, went to see 
 Melia. He professed himself to be all right again, except 
 for a tenderness where Mr. Peters had made his mark, and 
 was considerably more profuse in his thanks than he had 
 been in the early morning. Mr. Peters took Rivers expres 
 sions of gratitude without any more enthusiasm than he 
 had shown when that gratitude seemed problematical, and 
 was not anxious to call upon Melia that night. But Riv 
 ers insisted, and so Mr. Peters, shrugging his shoulders 
 with an air of anything but cheerful resignation, yielded. 
 
 That night Melia sat alone in the little room behind the 
 curtain, and wondered very much what fortune the New 
 Year was going to bring, also what on earth she was to do 
 with Archie. That young man was getting masterful, and, 
 instead of holding to his former humble declaration, that 
 he knew he wasn t half good enough for Melia, and that he 
 was sure she couldn t possibly care for him, had lately as 
 good as told her that he felt certain she was not so indiffer 
 ent as she pretended to be, and that he was determined to 
 make her own to it sooner or later. " Just like his cheek ! " 
 Melia said. 
 
 Such is the incomprehensible manner of man. So terri 
 bly, too, are coy maidens subdued by a lordly manner, that 
 Melia, instead of bidding him begone and see her face no 
 more, trembled a little when he came, sighed a little when 
 he went, and altogether behaved as if she were not quite 
 sure, hut what she liked it Tt was, at anyrate, difficult 
 22
 
 338 MR. PETERS 
 
 to continue to believe that Archie was pushing matters so 
 far from a mere sense of duty, and, after all, it was pleasant 
 to be woo d for one s own sake, and in spite of disadvan 
 tages. Still, Melia was very vexed with herself for not 
 being inwardly so stubborn as she seemed, and was scolding 
 herself well, at the moment when her two visitors from the 
 House of Residence came in. 
 
 Rivers was truly melodramatic in his greeting that night, 
 and introduced Mr. Peters in a new character, after em 
 bracing Melia. 
 
 " My preserver," he announced, with a hand on Mr. 
 Peters shoulder, and Melia, being ignorant of recent 
 events, and possibly suspecting intoxication, said, " Lor ! 
 father, what are you talkin about ? " 
 
 " Do not be a big fool ! " suggested Mr. Peters, frowning 
 impatiently, but Rivers, even with the risk of an unsympa 
 thetic audience, was not to be denied his opportunity for a 
 display. 
 
 He told Melia the whole story, with many details which 
 Mr. Peters did not remember, and described sensations 
 which he himself had never experienced. He drew a vivid 
 picture of the moment when all his past life had flashed 
 before him which it hadn t and insisted particularly 
 upon having felt during his struggles, more bitterly than 
 anything else, that his little Em ly would be left unpro 
 tected. P>y the time he had ended, poor Melia was in tears, 
 partly because she was an excitable young person, and partly 
 because she secretly felt that she must lately have been un 
 just, in her inmost mind, towards a parent who could think 
 of her with, so to speak, both feet in a watery grave. She 
 came round the counter, and did her best to secure the hand 
 of Mr. Peters, who, however, laughing at the beginning of 
 this dramatic recital, and frowning at the end, stood well 
 away, with his hands behind his back, and repulsed Melia s 
 advances altogether.
 
 NEW YEAR AT THE TRON 339 
 
 " This is what you call rot ! " he announced brusquely. 
 " It is enough, and we will have no more." 
 
 " Well, really," protested Melia, wiping her eyes, and 
 trying to feel angry with this hero who wouldn t be 
 worshipped, " I never know ow to take you, Cap n Pe 
 ters." 
 
 Melia s aspirates had much improved lately, but they 
 still played her false in moments of emotion. 
 
 " Do not take me," Mr. Peters entreated her. " Leave me 
 alone, that is all." 
 
 Then, seeing perhaps that Melia was really beginning to 
 feel hurt, " What is it all about ?" he went on, less roughly. 
 " A wetting, and nothing more ! There was no danger for 
 me. I could have let him go down to the mud and stay 
 there, could I not, if there had been ; and you would still 
 have said thank you to me, for pretending to try to fish 
 him out ? Come, we have done with it ! " 
 
 " I sha n t forgit, anyway," Melia declared, " though I 
 dare say, bein a man, you don t like no fuss made. You ve 
 given me my Happy Christmas right through, Cap n Pe 
 ters." 
 
 " That is it," Peters declared, as if struck by the idea. 
 " I have wished you a Merry Christmas, and I have done 
 my best for you. Now we are quits, as you call it." 
 
 " No, we aren t," Melia declared, warmly, " not by no 
 manner of means. There s a big balance on your side, Cap n 
 Peters." 
 
 " That is well," Mr. Peters told her. " We will speak of 
 it no more. Good-night. It is time to go home again." 
 
 "But this by no means pleased the vivacious Rivers. 
 
 " Now that I m out," he insisted, " I mean to stay out, 
 and see the fun, and wish Em ly here a Happy New Year 
 before she goes to bed." 
 
 "This is more humbug!" Mr. Peters declared, and 
 turned away to go off alone, when Melia stopped him, anx-
 
 340 MR. PETERS 
 
 ious that Rivers should have no excuse for roaming alone 
 that night. 
 
 " It s after leven now," she told him. " Take me round 
 to see some o the streets, Cap n Peters, an then you an 
 father can get back together. Come, now ! my Christmas 
 isn t done, for more n half an hour. We don t know where 
 we ll all be, by this time next year. 
 
 " That s true," Rivers agreed. His twenty-four hours in 
 bed had made him lively, and he was only regretting Mr. 
 Peters presence because Mr. Peters would perhaps limit 
 his drink, according to doctor s orders. 
 
 I m going a journey next year, remember ! " he added. 
 
 " Yes, an Cap n Peters goes a voyage," Melia reminded 
 them. " Come along, Cap n Peters, an see the sights for 
 once ! " and Mr. Peters made no more objections, but went. 
 
 The sights were not varied that night, but they saw what 
 there was to see, with a running commentary for Melia s 
 benefit from Mr. Peters, who was in a very bad temper. 
 
 " You ve kep your promise, an more," she told him, 
 softly, as they went up the street. " I can t thank you 
 enough, Cap n Peters." 
 
 " My promise ? " he told her, angrily, " I have made you 
 no promise." 
 
 " Oh, but you did," Melia insisted. " You promised me 
 you d keep an eye on pa. You ve done it, too." 
 
 " Very well, then," retorted Peters, " if it is done, it is 
 finished, that is all. I have kept my promise, you say. I 
 owe you nothing." 
 
 " I owe you lots," Melia declared. 
 
 " I promise you no more," Mr. Peters answered loudly, 
 and then talked to Rivers, though not in a very friendly way. 
 
 As for Rivers, his head was aching, and he thought once 
 more that Peters was a clumsy fellow. 
 
 What is the use of pulling a man out of the water, if you 
 pretty well brain him in doing so ? Peters was quite right
 
 NEW YEAR AT THE TRON 341 
 
 to dislike making much of such a rough and tumble affair. 
 No doubt, as he had been frank enough to admit, he would 
 have let Rivers go quickly enough had there been any real 
 danger to himself. 
 
 Rivers was quickly getting to think almost as little of the 
 rescue as Mr. Peters seemed to and his head was really 
 aching terribly. 
 
 It would have been a bad job, too, for Mr. Peters, if 
 Eivers had drowned himself, and so had become incapable 
 of playing cards, while still owing Mr. Peters his revenge. 
 
 There was now a very tidy little sum of Mr. Peters money 
 in Rivers bureau, and no doubt the former recollected that, 
 and gave it due consideration before he came to the rescue. 
 
 To know that this was one probable motive made Rivers 
 feel that, after all, it was best, as Mr. Peters had said, to 
 make no more fuss about that clumsy exhibition in life- 
 saving ; also, that if Mr. Peters, unable to take his losses 
 quietly and like a gentleman, should insist upon more play, 
 one need not scruple, from any silly sense of gratitude, to 
 let him have his whim and take his chance. 
 
 These were some of Rivers reflections as the three went 
 along, and they occupied him as the party proceeded from 
 Princes Street, up the Mound to the Tron Church. 
 
 For where else should they go that night, if they wished 
 to go witli the crowd ? It moved thitherward from all 
 quarters, and stayed only when it reached the open space 
 about that time-honored landmark, surging and swaying, 
 pushing and reeling, but determined to be in honor of old 
 custom within sight of the Tron clock when the hands 
 should mark midnight. 
 
 Melia and her escort drew up at the top of Cockburn 
 Street, and Mr. Peters, surveying the mob, classified its 
 component parts, as he pushed between Melia and a hospit 
 able inhabitant of the High Street, who flourished a bottle 
 at her with an invitation to drink.
 
 342 MB. PETERS 
 
 " Here," said Mr. Peters, " are our good people, here is 
 our happy crowd. Here is t un ! " and he laughed as though 
 he found some amusement, while Melia politely declined 
 the offer of the use of another bottle. 
 
 " These people," Mr. Peters went on, looking about him, 
 and able to see far, since his head rose well above most of 
 the crowd, " these people are divided into two parts, those 
 who are drunk and those who are drinking." 
 
 " That s not so, Cap n Peters," said Melia, indignantly. 
 " We re not drunk or drinking, an we don t mean to. I m 
 sure there s plenty of quiet folks like you an me, come up 
 just to see things. My ! look ! There s a man working 
 too." 
 
 She was quite right. There were plenty of quiet people 
 among the crowd, there, like themselves, out of mere 
 curiosity, but the more objectionable were, as they always 
 are, the more conspicuous. There was also, as she had 
 pointed out, a man working. 
 
 He stood at a first floor window of some office facing the 
 Tron, and worked at a desk, with a gas-jet flaring just over 
 his head. The crowd beneath him hummed and reeled. 
 The window at which he worked was now and then opened, 
 and a colored light was pushed out, to blaze for a few sec 
 onds and die away without making the man look up. The 
 clock now showed less than five minutes to the new year, 
 but this man worked on methodically, as though, so Mr. 
 Peters thought, his one object in life was to balance ac 
 counts. 
 
 The hands of the Tron clock moved on towards the hour, 
 nearer and nearer ; the colored " flares " became more plen 
 tiful, the crowd grew even noisier, with a continuous roar 
 like that of a heavy sea, but still the man at the first floor 
 window worked steadily on, and still Mr. Peters watched 
 him. 
 
 Presently the hour was reached, though one could only
 
 NEW YEAR AT THE TRON 343 
 
 tell it by looking at the clock, for the twelve strokes were 
 unheard in the increased roar. 
 
 Melia, seizing Rivers with one hand, and groping for Mr. 
 Peters with the other, started " Old Lang Syne," as she 
 called it, but Mr. Peters had moved a pace away, and stood 
 nearer under the window, where the book-keeper, with a 
 look of pride, was holding up a sheet of figures for another 
 to see. 
 
 " You have balanced your accounts, my friend ! " shouted 
 Mr. Peters to the unconscious clerk, " Bravo ! ! " and then 
 turned away, to go down the street again with the scattering 
 mob, wrapped in his own thoughts, and quite regardless of 
 the good wishes for the new year, shouted at him by Melia 
 and Rivers. 
 
 That night, Melia (who had dreamt almost more in the 
 last three months than in all her previous life) had pleasant 
 visions of a good time coming ; but Mr. Peters dreamt that 
 the man at the window came to him, and asked why his ac 
 counts were still unbalanced.
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII 
 
 QTJEM DEUS VULT PERDERE 
 
 RIVERS was none the better for his little expedition of 
 New Year s Eve, and kept to his room for a day or two after 
 it. His trouble, however, being nothing worse than a severe 
 cold, he could receive visitors and entertain them. He 
 entertained Mr. Peters a great deal, at that gentleman s ex 
 pense. For Mr. Peters, fearing apparently lest life at the 
 House of Residence should be monotonous for Rivers with 
 out his society, quitted the Pentlands for a time, and spent 
 social evenings with the invalid, and with the cards. 
 
 Fortune, unpropitiated by this self-denial, still went re 
 lentlessly against Mr. Peters, with the result that the vigil 
 ant Mrs. Jimps determined one night to remonstrate. 
 
 " If you could give me just one minute this evening, 
 Captain Peters," she entreated, smiling down the table as 
 she rose from dinner. " T have an application for rooms, 
 and I would like to show it to you," and Mr. Peters 
 accordingly presented himself at her door, half an hour 
 later. 
 
 Mrs. Jimps little room looked very cheerful, and Mrs. 
 Jimps looked cheerful too more cheerful, indeed, than she 
 felt. She motioned Mr. Peters, who did not seem inclined 
 to seat himself, to the easiest chair, and opened fire at once, 
 lest delay should lead to cowardice. 
 
 " We are glad to have you with us again, Captain Peters. 
 We have seen so little of you at the table lately." 
 
 She beamed upon him, and Mr. Peters bowed, watching 
 her with a steadfast stare, which Mrs. Jimps found discon 
 certing.
 
 QUEM DEUS VULT PERDERE 345 
 
 " Are you likely to be going back to your cottage soon ? " 
 she asked, and Mr. Peters misunderstood her. 
 
 " Do you wish my room ? " he demanded. 
 
 " Not for a moment, Captain Peters. I never thought of 
 it. We are always glad to see you. As I said to Annie 
 only yesterday " (Fie ! Mrs. Jimps, this is pure inven 
 tion), " it seems so natural to have you going in and out. 
 I I ve once or twice wondered lately whether Mr. Rivers 
 would be going soon," she suggested. 
 
 Mr. Peters remaining silent and sphynx-like, Mrs. Jimps 
 plunged further, and made further calls (heaven forgive 
 her !) upon her imagination. 
 
 " The fact is, Captain Peters, you must excuse me for 
 saying that there has been a good deal of gossip, about Mr. 
 Rivers, just lately. They say that he s very fond of cards, 
 and he is most surprisingly fortunate ! " 
 
 " Indeed ! " Mr. Peters lifted his thick black eyebrows in 
 surprise. " With whom does he play ? " 
 
 " If you don t know, Captain Peters, then I don t," said 
 Mrs. Jimps, hurt at this want of confidence ; but she went 
 on bravely, still determined to save Mr. Peters money if 
 she could. 
 
 " All I can say is that, while a gentleman who is a gentle 
 man, can do what he likes in his own rooms, I can t let 
 things go on that are talked about, and might get my house 
 talked about, besides meaning, perhaps, ruin to the other 
 guests who might be my friends, if you ll excuse my saying 
 so, Captain Peters." 
 
 The wording of this speech was enigmatical, but Mr. 
 Peters apparently understood, and first frowned, then be 
 gan to laugh. 
 
 " Answer Number One," he told her, checking it off upon 
 his fingers. " 1 do not lose, madam. If I lose to-night, I 
 win to-morrow." 
 
 " I never mentioned any names," protested Mrs. Jimps,
 
 346 MR. PETERS 
 
 " except that of Mr. Rivers," but she was interrupt 
 ed. 
 
 " That is true," Mr. Peters agreed, " I do not accuse you. 
 Answer Number Two. The good Rivers will go in a few 
 days, I think. Do not say so, Mrs. Jimps, or he will be 
 angry, but, lest he should be hurried and forget, you should 
 remind him of that little account." 
 
 " He does owe me for six weeks," Mrs. Jimps admitted, 
 " and it s very good of you to think of that, though I didn t 
 suppose he d tell anyone." 
 
 " One may guess," said Mr. Peters. " Is that all ? " 
 
 " Well," Mrs. Jimps told him, after consideration, " I 
 think that s all, Captain Peters, if you re sure that you re 
 not being deceived." 
 
 " And these good people who have talked ? " asked Mr. 
 Peters. 
 
 " Oh, that will be all right," Mrs. Jimps assured him, 
 careless, apparently, of any possible loss to Rivers. " They 
 never doubted you, Captain Peters." 
 
 " Did they not ? That is good," Mr. Peters decided, and 
 moved to leave the room. 
 
 With his hand upon the door, he gave her some further 
 information. 
 
 " I owe you nothing ? " he demanded. 
 
 " Only just for the week, Captain Peters," Mrs. Jimps 
 told him, " and I m never afraid to leave your little ac 
 count." 
 
 " Still," said Mr. Peters, " I, too, shall perhaps be leaving 
 in a few days. We will settle to-morrow, up to then," and he 
 went away, leaving Mrs. Jimps to take the news as she liked. 
 
 He went thence to his own room, and there he found 
 the convalescent Rivers waiting for a game. 
 
 That night they played hard and played late, for high 
 stakes, considering their purses, and with heavy bets. 
 Whatever Mr. Peters might tell Mrs. Jimps, his money was
 
 QUEM DEUS VULT PERDERE 347 
 
 going fast, and, between one and two o clock in the morn 
 ing, he pushed back his chair and rose from the little table, 
 which had been drawn in front of the fire. 
 
 " It is done," he announced ; " 1 have no more." 
 
 " Dear me, now, you don t say so," Rivers lamented. 
 " I ve had a most extraordinary run of luck, haven t I ? " 
 
 " Most extraordinary ! " Mr. Peters agreed. 
 
 " But it couldn t last, you know," Rivers told him. 
 " You really mean to say that you re cleaned out ? " 
 
 " Quite, altogether," said Mr. Peters, who stood looking 
 down upon the winner, and on the pile of coins and Scot 
 tish bank-notes beside him, without much sign of regret. 
 
 He seemed rather excited though. One might almost 
 suppose that play was beginning, instead of having finished, 
 and finished against him. Rivers saw enough of this to be 
 puzzled, and was puzzled enough to show it. 
 
 " I will say," ho remarked, glancing furtively at Mr. 
 Peters, while he slowly gathered up the spoils, " that I 
 never saw any gentleman take his bad luck better never." 
 
 " All through this life, my good Rivers," said Mr. Peters, 
 sententiously, " one must pay for one s little games." 
 
 " That is true," Rivers agreed heartily, helping himself 
 from the spirit decanter as he spoke. " Still, it s deuced 
 hard lines when a man s pluck puts him in such a hole. 
 I m sorry for you, my good fellow, indeed I am." 
 
 Within the last few minutes he had developed an air of 
 patronage most distinctly offensive, or, perhaps one should 
 say, which would have been most distinctly offensive to the 
 average man. 
 
 But Mr. Peters was apparently not an average man. He 
 had. to all appearance, not noticed any change in the man 
 ner of his guest, and remained quite unruffled. He didn t 
 seem likely to make a fuss over his losses ; still, Rivers 
 felt that it would be a nuisance to have the fool about the 
 place, and suddenly decided to be generous.
 
 348 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Have you squared up with the woman here ? " he asked, 
 suddenly. 
 
 " What woman ? " asked Mr. Peters. 
 
 " J imps/ ex-plained Rivers, who, with his pocket full of 
 ready money, and with his eye upon Archie as a prospective 
 son-in-law, didn t think so highly of Mrs. Jimps as he had 
 thought a couple of months earlier. 
 
 " I owe Mrs. Jimps, so she tells me, for this week," Mr. 
 Peters acknowledged. " What of that ? " 
 
 " Tell you what I ll do. You ll be wanting to clear out, 
 of course, now, and go to your little country residence, or 
 some other quiet place where living s cheaper, won t you ? 
 If you re in a hurry, being down on your luck, why, I ll 
 square up with the woman to-morrow for you, pon my soul 
 I will. You ve been a bit of a fool, you know, not to pay 
 more attention to her. It might have been worth board 
 and lodging to you, just now, for a week or so, while you 
 looked about you. Still, as I say, if you re clearing out to 
 morrow, I ll square up with her for you, so as to make 
 things easier." 
 
 He looked up at Mr. Peters, who still stood by the table, 
 and Mr. Peters looked down at him, taking time to consider 
 before he answered, as though the intricacies of our lan 
 guage were, for the moment, too much for his intelligence. 
 
 " I shall go to my cottage to-morrow, in the afternoon," 
 lie told Rivers, " and I will pay Mrs. Jimps before I go. 
 Why should you do so ? " 
 
 " My dear fellow, I thought you said you were cleaned 
 out ? " 
 
 " That is true," Mr. Peters admitted, " and, as I told you, 
 my banker has shown me that the money I gave to him is 
 quite done. But there is something more." 
 
 " The deuce there is ! My dear sir. I m delighted to hear 
 it, really delighted," and Rivers insisted upon shaking Mr. 
 Peters unresponsive hand. " Come now, this is good, and
 
 QUEM DEUS VULT PERDERB 349 
 
 your luck will turn. I ll play you for I U s. It isn t as 
 if we didn t know one another. Can you realize this some 
 thing more easily ? " 
 
 " Yes, it will be easy," Mr. Peters admitted, " and I shall 
 do so to-morrow morning. But I will not play any more, 
 having no money to show you." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense," protested Rivers. " If you re going up 
 to the hills again to-morrow, who knows when you will be 
 in again to try your luck ? " 
 
 " That is true," said Mr. Peters, " but I cannot play, ex 
 cept with my money upon the table. This house has been 
 unlucky for me," he added, looking around him ; " I do not 
 think I will ever play here any more." 
 
 " Try my room," suggested Eivers, but Mr. Peters de 
 clined. 
 
 " It is the house," he declared. " I can feel it. I will 
 go up to my cottage to-morrow, and play Patience. That is 
 a game I understand. Shall we say good-night ? " 
 
 Eivers was by no means ready to say good-night, Mr. 
 Peters being apparently not quite plucked, but he was ir 
 resolute, because of a new idea which he could not, for the 
 moment, make up his mind to express. S o, with a glance 
 at the table, perhaps to make sure that he left nothing 
 behind which it would be possible to carry away, he went 
 off to his own room. 
 
 It was late enough now, surely, to go to bed if one meant 
 to go at all. The clocks of the city had struck two, and 
 Mr. Peters fire had died out. But he did not seem sleepy. 
 On the contrary, he sat in his easy-chair, looking particu 
 larly wide-awake, with his eyes fixed on the door, and his big 
 black head just a trifle on one side, as though he listened 
 for something or somebody. He sat thus, quiet, watchful, 
 untiring, for perhaps another quarter of an hour, listening, 
 waiting always, though there was nothing apparently mov 
 ing in the house, and the only sound was that made by the
 
 350 MB. PETERS 
 
 wind, which rattled a window-sash, and, passing on, whis 
 tled down the street. Nevertheless, presently Mr. Peters 
 drew himself up in his chair, turning a little more towards 
 the door, and gripping the chair-arms as though about to 
 rise. He had at last caught the sound of a door handle 
 turning on the opposite side of the corridor, and this was 
 followed by a tap at his door, and the return of Eivers. 
 
 " Ah, the good Rivers," ejaculated Mr. Peters. 
 
 " What, not in bed yet ? " asked his visitor. " Pon my 
 word, I was almost ashamed to knock, but the fact is, I can t 
 find my matches. I ve been tumbling about, until I thought 
 I should break my neck." 
 
 " I heard you," Mr. Peters told him, and Rivers stared 
 oddly at hearing this simple statement. 
 
 " You must not break your neck. Here are matches," 
 said Mr. Peters, reaching up to the mantel-piece, and toss 
 ing a box on to the table. 
 
 Having done this, however, he waited for further conver 
 sation, and presently Rivers, strolling across the room to 
 where Mr. Peters was sitting, unbosomed himself. 
 
 " I m afraid," he announced, " that your luck has taken 
 the pluck out of you. Pon my word I a.m. I wish I knew 
 what to do. I don t see how I can help it though, if you 
 won t have another shot." 
 
 "That is true," said Mr. Peters, philosophically. He 
 must have suddenly become tired, else why, instead of look 
 ing straight at his visitor, as was his habit, why did he 
 answer with head bent, and with eyes fixed upon the rug 
 before him ? 
 
 Tell you what ! " Rivers suggested suddenly, " I ex 
 pect you re right in thinking this house is unlucky for you. 
 I ve known of similar cases before, and well, I don t pre 
 tend to be more thin-skinned than any other gentleman, 
 but I m cursed if I care to take advantage of a thing like 
 that. I ll come up and play you at your other place ! "
 
 QUEM DEUS VULT PERDERE 351 
 
 " It is far," said Mr. Peters, his eyes still fixed upon the 
 carpet. " You might lose, you know. I do not ask of you 
 to come." 
 
 " No, no, it s my proposal," Rivers insisted. " After all, 
 it s only fair that I should lose a little. Luck will change 
 up there, 1 daresay, and I m quite prepared for it." 
 
 u It will change, I think," Mr. Peters told him. " I am 
 glad that you are prepared." 
 
 What a fool is a losing gambler ! Eivers laughed secretly 
 to hear how this ass, that had been so easily led, now brayed 
 in triumphant assurance of a change. 
 
 " There s no accounting for luck," he assured Mr. Peters. 
 " If, as you say, you can raise cash to-morrow morning (not 
 that that would matter, only you tell me you won t play 
 without it), why, what s to prevent me from going up with 
 you in the afternoon ? " 
 
 " Nothing," said Mr. Peters, and Rivers went away once 
 more. As he went, he laughed, thinking perhaps that, 
 though luck could never be accounted for, a practised hand 
 could be relied upon against a fool. 
 
 Mr. Peters, too, was laughing as he rose from the easy- 
 chair, and stretching himself to his full height watched the 
 retreating figure. For a long time he had laughed very 
 little. Perhaps he laughed now, because Rivers, who came 
 for matches, had forgotten to take them away.
 
 CHAPTER XLIX 
 
 GOOD-BY 
 
 THE next morning Lucius Moriarty, busy in his office, 
 and groaning over the briskness of trade and the consequent 
 dwarfing of his higher faculties, was told that Mr. Peters 
 wished to see him. 
 
 " Now, this is kind of ye," he declared to Mr. Peters, as 
 they shook hands. " There bein no money left to draw, I 
 thought, maybe, I d not be seein ye so soon. How are 
 ye?" 
 
 " I am well," Mr. Peters assured him, " but, when you say 
 there is no money left to draw, you forget the bag." 
 
 " A kill-joy ! " Lucius told him, shaking his head mourn 
 fully at his visitor, " That s what ye are, Peters. Do I 
 understand, then, that ye ve come for business purposes 
 only ? " 
 
 " Not only," Mr. Peters said, " but of that we will talk 
 presently. First, I will consult you about the bag." 
 
 " Well, well," grumbled Lucius, going to the safe, " this 
 is a place of business, an I m a plain business man, an if 
 anyone shows bis face here, begor ! I suppose it s natural 
 that he comes on business. Here s the bag." 
 
 He took it from the safe, rather a large bag, apparently 
 heavy, and dumped it down upon the table. Mr. Peters, 
 for his part, took from his breast-pocket a paper, and 
 handed it to Lucius. " That is your receipt," he explained. 
 
 " What next ? " Lucius asked, looking curiously from Mr. 
 Peters to the hag upon the table. The bag was made of 
 strong canvas, in no way remarkable except for the initials 
 J. F., which stood for Joseph Flinders, and the number
 
 GOOD-BY 353 
 
 1000, which could probably have been explained only by 
 the former owner. But Mr. Peters, lifting the bag, was 
 looking at the seals of common red sealing-wax, which lay 
 across the string about its neck, and Lucius looked too. 
 What he saw was peculiar. On each seal, roughly and hur 
 riedly written, it would seem, with some sharp point before 
 the wax cooled, was a word, and Lucius spelt it. 
 
 " S-t-a-i, Stai ! Begor ! that s a queer seal. It means 
 Wait, doesn t it ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Peters, and began to break the seals, one 
 after another. " When did you learn Italian ? " 
 
 " I travelled once," said Moriarty, dismally, " before this 
 business got the mastery o me. But what s the man doin ? 
 That s not waitin , is it ? " 
 
 " I have waited long enough," Mr. Peters told him, and 
 breaking the last seal, and cutting the string, he quietly 
 emptied the bag out on to the table, before the astonished 
 Moriarty. 
 
 " It was a pile of American coins that Lucius saw, gold 
 and silver, with greenbacks showing here and there. 
 
 " What s the meanin of this ? " asked Lucius. 
 
 " Money," Mr. Peters told him, with a little shrug, as he 
 looked down upon the pile. 
 
 " I ve got eyes in me head," retorted Lucius, " I can see 
 that much; but what d ye bundle it up in an old bag, an 
 carry it round like that for ? Ye should have got a draft, 
 man, instead o bringin a weight like that across the herrin 
 pond. What s the meanin of it ? " 
 
 " It is a long story," Mr. Peters told him, with grave po 
 liteness, " and I must not interrupt you to tell it all. But 
 this was money given to me long ago, to be used for business 
 purposes only, and when I should have no more." 
 
 " But what did ye carry a lump like that for ? " 
 
 " I have carried a heavier weight all the time," said Mr. 
 Peters, evasively. " Will you <jet it changed for me ? "
 
 354 MB. PETERS 
 
 " How much is it ? " asked Lucius, scratching his head, 
 with a discontented air, but Mr. Peters shrugged his shoul 
 ders again. 
 
 " This is business," he suggested. " Count it ! " and 
 Lucius, grunting, touched his bell. 
 
 " Ask Mr. Cairns to step this way," he told the junior 
 clerk, and Mr. Cairns, the cashier, coming in, was asked to 
 take out the pile, count it, and be ready to report its value 
 in coin of the realm, when rung for again. 
 
 " I want to talk to ye," Lucius told Mr. Peters, pointing 
 to a chair and seating himself at his desk as the door closed 
 behind Mr. Cairns. " Ye re on me conscience, more 
 an more. What d ye mean by this ? Don t frown, 
 now ! " 
 
 Mr. Peters was certainly frowning a little. On being ad 
 monished, however, he lowered his eyes, and proceeded 
 slowly and laboriously to explain. Sometimes it seemed 
 almost as though Mr. Peters was losing his intimate knowl 
 edge of our mother tongue, the words came to him so 
 slowly. 
 
 " I will be plain, what you call frank, with you," he said 
 at last. 
 
 " Right y are, me boy," Moriarty told him, settling back 
 in his chair, and assuming an attitude of earnest attention. 
 " Frankness is best, Mr. Peters, I do assure ye." 
 
 " This business of mine," Mr. Peters went on, " will be, I 
 think, arranged to-night." 
 
 " Without tli help o the Parliament House lot ? " in 
 quired Lucius, anxiously, and Mr. Peters nodded. 
 
 " Glory be ! " ejaculated Lucius. " Man, ye re a smart 
 chap, divil a doubt," and would have liked to praise such a 
 triumph further, but restrained himself to hear more. 
 
 " Having settled," Mr. Peters went on, " I must go at 
 once, and so this is good-by." 
 
 "Havers !" Lucius told him, "we can t let ye go, man.
 
 GOOD-BY 355 
 
 This business has been wearin ye out these last three 
 months. We re disgraced if ye leave us in sich a demora 
 lized condition." 
 
 " I must go/ said Mr. Peters. 
 
 " Nonsense/ protested Moriarty, and then remembered 
 that Mr. Peters, after settling his business, might be very 
 short of cash. 
 
 " Leave th House o Eesidence, an th Handsome 
 Widdy," he urged, " seein that s your intention anyway, an 
 spend a few days with us. We ll have a young lady who s a 
 friend o yours to come in, an keep ye from bein dull," 
 and Lucius winked with tremendous slyness. 
 
 " It s my belief she s been fair dyin o love," he added, 
 " since that little exhibition o yours at Duddingston. I 
 told her you d taken to the cold-water cure in a hurry, to 
 put out the fire she d raised in ye. Faith, when I told her 
 that, if I d been fated to be killed by lightnin , Lucius 
 Moriarty would have retired from business that same 
 instant." 
 
 Mr. Peters was not very attentive. Lucius even doubted 
 whether he heard. 
 
 " Look here, Mr. Peters," he said presently, " Cairns 11 
 tell us in five minutes what check you should have for that 
 bag, but that s neither here nor there. I don t know what 
 you ve got left, of the cash you ve had already, or what 
 you ve done with it, an I don t want to know. It s not my 
 business." 
 
 It was perfectly true that it was not his business to know 
 how Mr. Peters spent his money, but all the same he wanted 
 to know, being interested in Mr. Peters, and kindly curious 
 about all his affairs. However, he would have bitten his 
 tongue out sooner than ask, unless Mr. Peters should 
 encourage him, and Mr. Peters did nothing of the 
 kind. On the contrary, that self-reliant individual nod 
 ded his head slightly, as if agreeing with Moriarty s
 
 356 MR. PETERS 
 
 statement, and waited in silence to hear what was coming 
 next. 
 
 " What I want to know is," continued Lucius, vainly en 
 deavoring to assume an off-hand, dry, business air, but fail 
 ing utterly, " will you have anything to come an go upon 
 when this business of yours is settled ? " 
 
 " I shall have enough to go upon," Mr. Peters assured 
 him, and Lucius, to cover a great deal of real regret at Mr. 
 Peters departure, and of anxiety as to his prospects, 
 laughed loudly at this answer. 
 
 " Begor, that s good ! " he exclaimed. " Have ye 
 enough to come and go upon ? says I, an I ve enough to 
 go upon, anyway, say you, as smart as you please." 
 
 The laughter stopped suddenly, being a trifle forced, and 
 Moriarty returned to his point. 
 
 " Here s the question," he went on, " and remember, 
 Mr. Peters, that of course it s a pure matter of business, 
 and you re a business man, introduced to me by another 
 business connection. Will there be enough an to spare ? 
 Because," and here Lucius produced a check-book, " a hun 
 dred pound, one way or the other, is neither here nor there 
 when you ve good security, and it s better to have too much 
 than too little, when you get among strangers again. It s a 
 matter o business, mind you, and we ll charge a small per 
 centage if you d like it so." 
 
 Lucius looked across at Mr. Peters as he spoke, showing a 
 face that was an absolute guarantee against any exorbitant 
 usury. Mr. Peters eyed him curiously. 
 
 " You said, good security, " he reminded Lucius. 
 " What security could I give, do you think ? " and Lucius 
 set all his fringe of hair on end in considering the matter. 
 
 " The fact is, me boy, I don t care what you can give," 
 he finally acknowledged. " You ve come here after cred 
 itors, an hunted em, an found em, where another man 
 might have let em go. Am I right ? "
 
 GOOD-BY 357 
 
 " You are right," Mr. Peters acknowledged, staring at 
 him. " 1 made an oath, and 1 will keep it so far as 1 ani 
 able." 
 
 " There y are then," Lucius pointed out. " You ve come 
 from the ends o the earth to pay one debt, not exactly your 
 own, if I understand you, an I ll go bail you d do as much 
 to pay me a hundred pound if 1 lent it." 
 
 " J>y God, I would," said Mr. Peters. It was not often 
 that he showed excitement, but he seemed to catch some of 
 Moriarty s feeling, and said this loudly, rising from his 
 chair as he spoke. 
 
 " Whisht, man, whisht ! " Moriarty entreated, " or the 
 chaps outside 11 think you re swearin ! Shall it be a hun 
 dred ? Come now ! " 
 
 He paused, pen in hand, but Mr. Peters motioned him 
 to put it down. 
 
 " I shall, perhaps, get back a part of what I have spent," 
 he said, " but I will not forget." 
 
 " No, don t, there s a good fellow," Lucius entreated, 
 taking this as a promise that Mr. Peters would reconsider 
 the offer ; then he touched the bell, and the cashier an 
 swered the summons. There were a hundred and fifty-one 
 pounds, odd, due to Mr. Peters, and Lucius made out 
 a check for that amount, and was going to call upon the 
 junior clerk to go and cash it, when Mr. Peters stopped 
 him. 
 
 " I go that way," he said. 
 
 " Oh, let the boy go," suggested Lucius. " He ll be 
 grateful to ye for the job. lie jist sits an boils on his stool 
 there, till I give the young blaggard a run for fear he ll turn 
 Fenian, an dynamite the whole place." 
 
 It was not to his liking, this slipping away of a friend 
 for so he considered Mr. Peters without any preliminary 
 warning, or opportunity for the consideration of some last 
 words. But Mr. Peters still refused.
 
 358 MR. PETERS 
 
 u You ll look us up to-night, maybe," suggested Lucius. 
 " What ll I say to your lady friends ? " 
 
 "My kindest remembrances to Miss Moriarty," Mr. 
 Peters told him, and held out his hand. 
 
 " ISTo one else ? " suggested Lucius, taking him by the 
 arm and piloting him through the outer office. 
 
 " No one else," said Mr. Peters, and held out his hand 
 again as he reached the street ; but Moriarty stepped out 
 after, bareheaded, letting the door swing to behind him. 
 A flake or two of snow fell, and settled upon Moriarty s 
 head and shoulders, but he didn t notice them. 
 
 " Man, I m sorry to lose ye," he admitted, " and mind," 
 lowering his voice and looking behind him as he spoke, lest 
 the door should swing open, " it s the easiest matter in the 
 world to remit to ye, if that would be a convenience. I ve 
 correspondents all the world over, I may say. It s not 
 straight home you re going, is it ? " 
 
 Lucius would have been surprised to hear that Mr. Peters 
 had not yet considered where he was going, and had looked 
 no farther, as yet, than to the accomplishment of his busi 
 ness, but that was the truth. 
 
 " Perhaps not at once," he told Lucius, and this time 
 gripped the fingers of the latter in a way that made him 
 wince. 
 
 " Man ! ye ve still the divil s own fist," Lucius told him, 
 with a memory of the morning of their first meeting when 
 his composition of poetry was interrupted and was going 
 to add some appropriate last words when Mr. Peters turned, 
 and went steadily away down the street. Lucius watched 
 him ruefully, with a dim wonderment as to what his own 
 feelings were in regard to Mr. Peters. 
 
 " These partin s are the divil s own trouble," he mut 
 tered. " I m to be thankful, maybe, that, bein a plain man 
 o business, I don t feel em. I wonder if he does." 
 
 He referred to Mr. Peters, but that individual s broad
 
 GOOD-BY 359 
 
 shoulders had just disappeared round a corner, and so Lu 
 cius, with a grunt that might be a sigh, or might be a mere 
 clearing of the throat, turned back into his office. There 
 he kept everyone very much on the qui vive for the remain 
 der of that day, finding no rest himself, and being appar 
 ently determined that others should fare no better.
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 CONCERNING A LITTLE ACCOUNT 
 
 MR. PETERS cashed his check, mostly in Bank of England 
 notes and gold, then went along the street, again consider 
 ing the question put to him by Moriarty. 
 
 Where was he going after his business was ended ? It 
 seemed quite natural to him never to have considered this 
 matter. Indeed, from his own point of view, it was not his 
 affair. Mr. Peters was of no religion, and would have 
 laughed, also, at being accused of any superstitious fancies, 
 but superstitious he was, nevertheless. From the time that 
 he had been told he was fatherless, he had also been told 
 that there was a task for him to perform that the first 
 thing to do, the first piece of work always to consider, to 
 live for, and to finish as soon as might be, shaping his life 
 always to that end, was work which no other man could, or 
 would, do for him. His mother had taught him this thing 
 religiously, mingling it with his prayers and hers, until it 
 became his creed, his one belief, lasting even after his 
 mother, his prayers, and all other beliefs had been long 
 dead. Fate was his god, and he was Fate s servant. He 
 had thought no more of what he should do, after Fate had 
 used him, than he thought of what would happen after the 
 world s end. Everything would go well, provided he only 
 let himself be ginded by circumstances, never hasting, never 
 tarrying. If he gave way to childish impatience, or temper, 
 or indulgence, then came trouble, as it had come that dark 
 afternoon in the Parliament House when Lord Inch died. 
 He did not need to have any such lesson repeated. Yet 
 everything else being clear in his mind, this question of his 
 future movements might now reasonably be considered, so
 
 CONCERNING A LITTLE ACCOUNT 361 
 
 he went on to the docks and made inquiries about steamers. 
 He was still too much occupied with thoughts of the 
 immediate business to think, or even to care very greatly, 
 where he should go. Anywhere would do, he felt, out of 
 this place, and free from its associations. Elsewhere he 
 could sit down quietly, a day or two hence, and plot out a 
 new life. Still, it would look too foolish to ask merely 
 what steamer started first to-morrow, so he looked at the 
 lists, and found that a boat would leave for Amsterdam at 
 noon on the following day. That would do, he decided, 
 and was told that he need not engage a berth then. He 
 could pay on board, and as that arrangement suited Mr. 
 Peters very well, since, later, when his mind was more at 
 ease he might find that he would prefer to go elsewhere, he 
 went away without settling anything, taking a time-table of 
 boats with him. 
 
 That afternoon, immediately after lunch, Mr. Peters 
 tapped at the door of Mrs. Jimps private room, and was 
 told to come in. He was expected by Mrs. Jimps, who con 
 tinued to show a cheerful countenance to the world, but 
 who was inwardly in a melancholy condition, and had star 
 tled " our Annie," only that morning, by acknowledging 
 herself to be not so young as she had been. This had made 
 a great impression upon Annie, who secretly considered 
 Mrs. Jimps a marvel both in body and mind, and led her 
 to assure cook, at the earliest possible opportunity, that in 
 her opinion Mrs. Jimps was sick. So she was, poor soul, 
 not in body but in mind, and of a malady that would only 
 provoke laughter if acknowledged. Knowing this, Mrs. 
 Jimps made no fuss, but smiled like the Spartan that she 
 tried to be, and held out the little account for which she 
 knew Mr. Peters had come. 
 
 " That is right," he said, after looking at it. " Now do 
 me the favor, Mrs. Jimps, to bring it to my room when I 
 ring."
 
 ;562 MR. PETERS 
 
 Hope springs eternal. Can poor Mrs. Jimps be blamed, 
 if her heart fluttered once more ? 
 
 " Would you prefer to settle it there, Captain Peters ? " 
 she asked, hoping that nothing in her voice or manner be 
 trayed her. 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Peters, " I will tell you why." And Mrs. 
 Jimps left hand stole upward, and, under pretence of 
 searching for a pin, pressed upon a throbbing heart which, 
 she could almost have imagined, he must hear. 
 
 " It is of the good Rivers that I would speak," Mr. Peters 
 continued, and Mrs. Jimps heart sank once more. 
 
 " You will come to my room," Mr. Peters told her, " with 
 his account as well as mine, and leave the rest to me." 
 
 " Really," Mrs. Jimps protested, " this is too kind of you, 
 Captain Peters," and she seemed to think so, else why did 
 her eyes grow moist, quite unnoticed by Mr. Peters, who 
 was already moving away. 
 
 " I brought him here, did I not ? " he asked over his 
 shoulder. " Remember, do not speak of my leaving, or of 
 his," and then he went upstairs. 
 
 Rivers was in his own room, and, being in extraordinarily 
 high spirits, was humming a popular song, very much out of 
 tune. 
 
 To him Mr. Peters listened, with a strange, hard smile, 
 and with his customary patience, standing in the corridor, 
 until a verse ended. Then he rapped, and Rivers poked 
 his head out. 
 
 " Come in to me," Mr. Peters told him, " and bring your 
 big flask. We must not go short of whiskey on our way up 
 the hills." 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! " said Rivers piously, and turned back 
 to fetch the flask, while Mr. Peters, returning to his own 
 room, rang the bell. 
 
 The result of this simple expedient was that Rivers, flask 
 in hand, met Mrs. Jimps in the corridor, and, thinking
 
 CONCERNING A LITTLE ACCOUNT 36o 
 
 more of his whiskey than of his manners, preceded her at 
 Mr. Peters door. 
 
 " Sit down," Mr. Peters told him, pointing to a chair, 
 " while I pay my little account to Mrs. Jimps," and Rivers 
 sat down, rather wishing that he had not crossed the path 
 of Mrs. Jimps while she was engaged in debt collecting. 
 True, he was in flourishing circumstances just now, but it 
 always went against the grain with Rivers to spend ready 
 money in paying debts, and he decided to get out of the 
 way. 
 
 " Excuse me a moment," he said, putting the flask upon 
 the table, and, slipping out, he went quietly down the stair, 
 thinking that he could spend the next quarter of an hour 
 seeing Melia, and make that an excuse, if necessary. 
 
 At the little tobacconist s shop Melia greeted him with 
 an affection which he found rather a nuisance than other 
 wise, and which had tended to be more demonstrative since 
 the mishap at Duddingston. 
 
 " What is the use," he peevishly asked her now, as he had 
 often asked before, " of an affectionate manner in a girl, 
 when her poor father knows her to be selfishly conceited and 
 headstrong ? It is the merest hypocrisy, Em ly," and poor 
 Melia, who was being constantly worried by Archie also, 
 until she almost doubted her own good intentions, felt that 
 she must certainly be an undutiful daughter. 
 
 " How s your cold, father ? " she asked, to change the 
 subject. 
 
 " I could throw it off, I think, if there weren t so many 
 things to worry me," said the aggrieved parent. 
 
 " I m very sorry, pa father I mean," Melia told him 
 penitently, and Rivers thought he saw his chance. 
 
 " I m going up to Peters cottage this afternoon," he an 
 nounced, " to stay the night, in order to see if the change 
 will do me any good. But nothing would help me so much 
 as to find my Em ly in a more dutiful frame of mind."
 
 304 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Why, father, it s awful cold up there," Melia objected. 
 " 1 can t think what Cap n Peters is thinkin of to ask 
 you." 
 
 He knows I m too much worried to throw off anything 
 here," Rivers retorted severely. 
 
 " Don t go ! " Melia entreated. " You ve never been 
 right since your wetting. Besides, you ll be at those cards 
 again." Melia knew very well that they played, for Rivers 
 had spoken of it once, before her, when Mr. Peters had 
 been lucky for a night. " I shall be thinkin of you all the 
 time," she added. 
 
 " That," said Rivers, with a fine air of cynicism, " is 
 worth risking something for. I cannot hope for so much 
 unless I go, I m quite aware of that. If you really cared for 
 my health as much as you pretend, Em ly, you d be guided 
 by me, and I might stay at home to please you." 
 
 He turned towards the shop door, but lingered for her 
 reply. She knew very well what he meant, and to make 
 sure of Archie, he thought, it would be worth while to 
 drop the profits of an evening s play. But Melia couldn t 
 make up her mind to follow her own inclination. 
 
 " I ll think about it," she told Rivers. 
 
 " Come ! yes or no," he insisted, seeing her waver. 
 
 " No, not to-night," Melia begged, and he moved out 
 with a curse. 
 
 " Much you care about my health, or my life either ! " 
 he snarled, and Melia was left to question her own motives, 
 more than ever. 
 
 Once out of the shop, Rivers was not so very despairing 
 after all. The girl was certainly beginning to listen to 
 reason, he reflected, and would probably be more dutiful 
 the next time they met. At anyrate he had not wasted 
 time, since Mrs. Jimps had been avoided. 
 
 He reckoned, however, without Mr. Peters, who called 
 him in from the corridor, and rang the bell.
 
 CONCERNING A LITTLE ACCOUNT 305 
 
 " You have come ? That is right," Mr. Peters told him. 
 " Here is your flask full, and presently we will go. Have 
 you money ? " 
 
 " Yes," Rivers answered, slapping a breast pocket, and 
 then pulling out a bundle of notes. " Plenty, plenty for the 
 night, even if the luck turns, as, by Jove, my dear fellow, I 
 daresay it will." 
 
 " That is good," Mr. Peters decided. " I have rung for 
 Mrs. Jimps, because she has your little account, and I told 
 her that you would certainly wish to pay now." 
 
 Had there been time, Rivers would have asked Mr. Peters, 
 in the most forcible terms at his command, what made him 
 interfere. But Mrs. Jimps, prompt at the call, came in 
 while, still showing the notes, he stared at Mr. Peters, and 
 there was no way of escape this time, except with a fuss. 
 
 " You shall pay for this to-night, my fine fool," was 
 Rivers inaudible promise to Mr. Peters, as he counted out 
 the money, and got his receipt and change from the scarcely 
 grateful Mrs. Jimps. " What the devil made you do it, I 
 wonder ? " 
 
 Indeed Mr. Peters, by whatever power of good or evil 
 he might have been adjured, would have found it hard to 
 say why he had done this thing. Perhaps there was a 
 contemptuously kind feeling for the hard-headed and soft 
 hearted Mrs. Jimps. Perhaps, knowing his own plans, he 
 took a grim pleasure in tormenting Rivers while that was 
 possible, or in making him be just against his inclination. 
 At anyrate, it was to Mr. Peters that Mrs. Jimps owed the 
 recovery of her money, and let us hope that, somewhere, he 
 was credited for the action, not having many such set down 
 to his account.
 
 CHAPTER LI 
 
 A DREAM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 
 
 THAT evening, in the little room behind the shop, Melia, 
 after crying all by herself over her troubles and Kivers re 
 proaches, dozed off upon the red settee. She had slept 
 badly of late, and had fallen into the trick of taking irregu 
 lar snatches of sleep during her less busy times, to make up 
 for bad nights, and of sipping extra cups of tea, which, in 
 the end, were not satisfactory, for they neither cheered nor 
 inebriated. As she had her father very much upon her 
 mind, there was no supernatural agency necessary, one 
 would suppose, to make her dream of him. Perhaps the 
 extra cups of tea would account for the fact that Melia s 
 dreams were not pleasant ones. She dreamt that she was 
 among the whispering Scotch firs of which Mr. Peters had 
 told her, and which she had seen for herself, behind his 
 cottage, when she was there. Now she tried to make her 
 way through them, for Rivers was calling to her, and, as 
 she listened, the call became a long, mournful shriek ; but, 
 whichever way she turned, a whispering tree sprang up, or 
 fell before her. She could hear quite well what they said. 
 They whispered, laughing hoarsely, every one of them, that 
 Mr. Peters and her father were at the cards again. They 
 had both lost, the trees said, which Melia, with the brain 
 of a dreamer, didn t think strange. Now so one whisperer 
 told the other, leaning across above her head they were 
 playing for their own souls, and would both lose again. 
 
 All tins time her father was crying for her, and Melia, 
 trying to cry back that she was coming, turned this way 
 and that, and all this time the trees laughed and whispered,
 
 A DREAM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 307 
 
 and rose and fell before her, until at last one seemed to 
 catch and crush her, and she woke with a scream. She was 
 still alone, of course, in the little back room ; the shop was 
 quiet and empty ; and when Melia, trembling a little, went 
 and looked out at the shop-door into the still, frosty night, 
 feeling as though she would like company, a whistling, 
 shouting boy went past, whose noise, as he came, had quite 
 possibly started the dream. 
 
 " You baby ! " said Melia, angrily, to herself, and looked 
 at the time. It was a quarter to ten, and by Moriarty s 
 latest instructions she now closed the shop at ten o clock. 
 
 She moved here and there, giving fresh water to some 
 violets, and taking out the cash from the till to carry home, 
 as had been her custom since there began to be anything 
 worth carrying. But, all the while, the dream-fancies clung 
 to her, and gave her no peace. The clocks of the city struck 
 the hour, and Melia locked up the place and went away 
 down the hill. As she went, alternately shivering over this 
 stupid dream and scolding herself for doing so, she was 
 followed. Archie, who practically believed that all the male 
 portion of Edinburgh s population the marriageable at 
 anyrate was capable of entering into conspiracy against 
 his peace of mind, had lately made it his practice to watch 
 her go home, clenching his fists whenever, as sometimes hap 
 pened, some profane fellow, instead of shielding his eyes on 
 Melia s approach, turned as she passed him and looked after 
 her. Archie could not go by her side, for Melia had forbid 
 den that, but a fellow, so he told himself, could stroll where 
 he chose and when he chose along the public streets, so 
 he made no complaint, but watched over Melia s safety 
 secretly and in silence. 
 
 Then, as she went, a harebrained scheme gradually 
 shaped itself in Melia s silly head. 
 
 " If I d promised to think carefully over what he wants," 
 she told herself, " he d ave stayed by the fire this afternoon,
 
 368 MR. PETERS 
 
 instead o trampin over those beastly hills. What on earth 
 made me dream such foolishness, 1 wonder ? " and she 
 shivered again as she went. 
 
 " If I even got out there now," her thoughts ran on, " an 
 told him I d come to say I d really try hard to please him, 
 why, 1 don t b lieve he d be very angry, and twould ease my 
 mind. I sha n t sleep a wink to-night, for fear of another 
 dream like that. I couldn t stand two such. I should die. " 
 
 This was her conviction, and not a pleasant one with 
 which to face the night. " I won t go to bed," she decided. 
 " I ll ask Mrs. Meiklejohn to let me keep a bit of fire in, and 
 I ll sit up and read. If I d only a bike I could call my own, 
 I d go for a ride, an folks might say what they liked. Ten 
 to one they d never know," and, with that, a fresh notion 
 flashed into her busy mind, and caused her to bring her 
 teeth together with a snap. 
 
 If only she made up her mind, she thought, to do as 
 Kivers demanded, and as Archie implored, with no more 
 fuss, then she could use the bicycle that Archie had refused 
 to take back, and, since sleep was not to be thought of, she 
 could ride it anywhere she chose even to the Pentlands. 
 
 Melia looked up at the sky. It was cloudless, and the 
 moon shone brightly overhead. She felt the nipping air 
 upon her face, and looked at the ground. It was freezing. 
 A little snow that had fallen was thin and powdery scarcely 
 thawing now, even in the streets. Once beyond the houses, 
 spinning along on the moonlit lonely road, how quickly one 
 would get past Colinton. Then the bicycle could easily be 
 hidden among the trees at the foot of the hills, and the walk 
 up to the cottage would be nothing. Father wouldn t be 
 very angry, and how Mr. Peters would laugh ! In town they 
 never went to bed before twelve, and she d be there not 
 much after if she looked sharp. If only she could use that 
 bicycle but then she couldn t, it wasn t hers to use, and to 
 go riding out at this time of night, on a bicycle that didn t
 
 A DREAM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 369 
 
 belong to her, to a place where perhaps she wasn t wanted, 
 just because of a silly dream it was too absurd. 
 
 " You silly fool," she said out aloud, " you ll do no such 
 thing," and then and there a trivial thing happened which 
 sent her hurrying along well ahead of the astounded Archie, 
 to do, as quickly as possible, the very thing she had just 
 scoffed at. 
 
 It was only a dog that had lost his master. The poor 
 beast stood out in the middle of the street, with his tail 
 tucked in between his legs, his head lifted to the sky, and 
 howled of his loss to an unsympathetic world. But, to the 
 startled Melia, her nerves already in a jangling state of 
 discord, it was Rivers voice again calling her to come, and 
 even as she saw the cause and laughed out hysterically at 
 it, her feet flew faster down the street. Doesn t everybody 
 know Melia thought, gasping that dogs see more than 
 we do, and howl to warn us ? She reached her door breath 
 less, and slipping into the silent house, crept up the stair, 
 and then, changing her dress, wheeled the bicycle out 
 swiftly. Silly or no, welcome or no, wrong or no, she 
 would get up to the cottage that night, to be laughed at 
 or scolded as might be, and afterwards she would confess 
 to Archie, and take the consequences. 
 
 Archie, however, came first on the programme, for, fol 
 lowing her to her door, he had lounged about as usual for a 
 few minutes, watching the light in her window, as has been 
 done by many young men at many windows before. The 
 result was that, as she brought out the bicycle, coming 
 quickly and quietly lest her landlady should hear her and 
 ask questions, he was the first person she met. 
 
 " My ! " said poor Melia, and had nothing ready to add 
 to this expression of her astonishment. 
 
 " Where on earth - ? " Archie began, equally startled, 
 and then stopped, facing Melia s defiant glare in silence. 
 
 " Well, I m glad to see you re using the thing," he added
 
 370 MR. PETERS 
 
 presently, " but I don t think you ought to be going out 
 
 now." 
 
 " I ve not used it before after the first day," Melia 
 declared, hurriedly. " I d have told if I had." 
 
 " Oh, that s all right," Archie assured her, still staring, 
 and Melia felt bound to explain further. 
 
 " I ve got to go somewhere to-night," she told him, " at 
 least, I feel as if 1 must, and I can t go no other way." 
 
 " Where on earth - ? " Archie repeated, returning to, 
 and stopping at, the point at which lie began. 
 
 " It s the Pentlands," Melia told him bravely, but in 
 such a low voice that Archie said " What ? " loudly, and 
 she had to say it over again. 
 
 u Oh, nonsense ! " he declared, when really sure that he 
 understood, " you mustn t do anything of the kind. You 
 can t mean it." 
 
 " I do. I must," said poor Melia. " I m not such a 
 fool as I look, Mr. Inch. I must go." 
 
 " What for ? " demanded Archie, wondering whether she 
 could be ill. To do him justice, he was not so foolish as 
 to suspect anything underhand in this harebrained expe 
 dition. 
 
 " Don t ask me, Mr. Inch," Melia implored. " It s too 
 silly, I know," which didn t exactly square with her last 
 statement that she was not such a fool as she looked. 
 " Father s up there with Cap n Peters," she added. 
 
 " Does he know you re coming ? " demanded Archie, and 
 Melia had to say that Rivers didn t know, and added, to 
 herself, that she wished she knew what he d say when he 
 did know. 
 
 " This is too silly," Archie declared at last, kicking vi 
 ciously at a curb-stone. " Come, give it up and go to 
 bed," but poor Melia grew more excited at the idea of 
 giving it up, and also more obstinate. 
 
 "I can t, I can t," she declared. "The bike s yours,
 
 A DREAM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 371 
 
 Mr. Inch, and if you choose to take it away, why, of course, 
 
 1 can t stop you. But short of that ! " and Melia 
 
 looked determination personified. 
 
 " I ve a jolly good mind to," muttered Archie. " I can t 
 make out what you re driving at, blest if I can. D you 
 really mean it, honor bright ? Must you go ? " 
 
 " I must, Mr. Inch, and please don t keep me waiting 
 any longer." 
 
 " Very well," Archie told her, without any further ob 
 jection, " I ll come too," and he turned and began walking 
 up the road again as if the whole thing were settled. 
 
 It was of no use for the startled Melia to raise this and 
 that objection. He was restless too, he said. As for their 
 going together, that was a great deal better than for her to 
 go alone. They would cross up by the house in Drums- 
 heugh Gardens, which he had not yet left, and she should 
 wait at a quiet corner where she wouldn t be noticed, while 
 he fetched his bicycle. Melia scolded and implored, all 
 to no purpose. Go he would, " or I ll take away your bike, 
 and you sha n t go," he added, as the one alternative, and 
 Melia, resisting no more, found herself twenty minutes 
 later slipping away through the quieter streets with Archie 
 at her side.
 
 CHAPTER LII 
 
 A WILD GOOSE CHASE 
 
 NEVER, even in the golden days of the good King Ar 
 thur, had any knight ridden forth to guard an errant dam- 
 ozel with greater pride in his mission than Archie Inch 
 felt as he went through the streets of Edinburgh that frosty 
 night, with the madcap Melia. Between poor Archie and 
 the knights of old, there appeared, however, to be an im 
 portant difference in at least one respect. According to 
 Sir Thomas Malory and other chroniclers of chivalry, these 
 gentlemen of ancient days were frequently not only daring 
 and courteous, but also eloquent, not to say long-winded, 
 when at a lady s feet or by her side. Archie, alas ! grew 
 curt of speech, and gruff in demeanor as the houses became 
 fewer and the road more lonely, scarcely speaking except 
 of the road they should take. He brought Melia round by 
 quiet streets, across the Haymarket and past Merchiston 
 Station, and snapped at her when she bent away to the 
 right just afterwards. 
 
 " Wbere are you going now ? " he demanded, crossly. 
 
 "Out Colinton way, of course," Melia called over her 
 shoulder, wobbling dangerously as she tried to look back at 
 him. 
 
 " Oh, rubbish ! " was his gruff criticism. " Come back," 
 and Melia came back meekly, explaining, when they were 
 side by side again, that she knew of no other way. 
 
 " You d have more than an hour s climb," Archie 
 deigned to point out, "and the snow will be lying thick 
 between the hills. Come away by Morningside ; we shall
 
 A WILD GOOSE CHASE 373 
 
 get a lot closer with the bikes that way on a frosty night 
 like this." 
 
 What he thought was that Morningside, being the Asy 
 lum of Edinburgh, ought, properly speaking, to receive 
 them both for the night, but Melia was now so humble 
 that he kept this idea to himself, and they whirled down 
 the Morningside hill, and began to skirt the Braids in si 
 lence. 
 
 Melia, being fairly started upon the journey, and past all 
 thought of retreat, could now safely give herself up to 
 gloomy reflections upon her own foolishness, and the prob 
 able reception awaiting her. 
 
 " Jolly night," Archie told her, severely, as they walked 
 up a steep bit of road. " Moonlight s jolly, isn t it ? " 
 
 The white road stretched out before them in the moon 
 light, thinly sprinkled with the snow that lay, too, on the 
 silent Braid hills. Melia, in the most melancholy voice, 
 agreed that it was jolly. 
 
 " Not half a bad notion of yours after all," Archie al 
 lowed. 
 
 " You ought to be in your bed, Mr. Inch," said Melia, 
 gloomily. But Archie, whom love was educating, refrained 
 from an obvious retort, and went on in silence. 
 
 He would have talked more freely if he had felt less. As 
 it was, there being only one matter worthy of conversation, 
 he could say little, that subject being, in his opinion, at 
 present impossible. 
 
 " A fellow can t pretend to look after a girl, and then 
 worry her about his own feelings, when she can t shut him 
 up," Archie decided, and his conversation grew monosyl 
 labic, while his spirits sank as the two neared their 
 journey s end. Melia, for her part, didn t understand this 
 dumb service. It seemed hard that, at the very moment 
 she started forth to take her first step towards surrender, 
 Archie should suddenly grow cold. What could she say on
 
 374 MR. PETERS 
 
 reaching the cottage, with this sulky squire dragged at her 
 heels ? 
 
 " 1 believe you re sorry you ve come," sighed Melia. 
 
 " Not if you aren t," Archie told her, and Melia thought 
 there was sarcasm in his voice, and meditated thereon. 
 
 " PYaps I am," she decided, suddenly stopping and 
 jumping off, " I don t know that it s any good going on." 
 
 Archie, who had dismounted a few yards ahead, having 
 been unprepared for this sudden change of front, now came 
 back, staring to see what the moonlight would show him in 
 explanation. 
 
 "If it s no good going on, what was the good of start- 
 ing?" 
 
 " No good, I suppose," Melia allowed, " only I didn t 
 know." 
 
 " You can t know more now than you did then," Archie 
 told her, stubbornly. " You haven t seen anybody." 
 
 " Haven t I ? I ve seen you," was Melia s enigmatic- 
 rejoinder, and, refusing to face Archie, she stared down the 
 moonlight road, wishing she could get away and cry by 
 herself. 
 
 "Look here, Mr. Inch," she told him presently. "I 
 want to go on, but you must go back. You can t come any 
 farther." 
 
 " I m going if you are." 
 
 " I must," Melia told him. " I m silly about father, but 
 there ll be a fuss, I daresay, and it s no good your being 
 there now." 
 
 : Now ! What d you mean by now ? " demanded Archie. 
 
 The fact is well. T was goin to speak about you, and 
 now (here s nothing to say. I ll make up another story, 
 that s all." 
 
 " What were you going to say about me ? " demanded 
 Archie, staring more than ever, and coming as close as 
 the bicycle he held would allow.
 
 A WILD GOOSE CHASE 373 
 
 " Well," said Melia, in a weak voice that she tried to 
 make hard and matter-of-fact, " there was a bit of a fuss 
 about you to-day, and I was goin up to say I d think about 
 it, an try to please you both. But it s no fault o yours that 
 you ve got sick of hangin about, Mr. Inch, as I see you 
 have by your ways to-night, an 1 don t wonder at it. Still, 
 father s on my mind, so please go back, and thank you for 
 coming so far, and I ll go on and tell him something else 
 that ll do, if I may keep this bike till to-morrow, now we re 
 here." 
 
 It was a long speech that, and TVIelia panted when she 
 had come to the end. Archie heard it patiently, and said 
 nothing when she had finished, so Melia, who was afraid 
 that she would presently make an exhibition of her feelings 
 if she stayed there much longer, said " good-night " and 
 " thank you " once more ; then, mounting as well as she 
 could, rode on alone. 
 
 " It s all right," she assured herself as she went. " I 
 don t mind a bit. Twasn t natural for him to care for me 
 long. If it had been a lady, I s pose she d have spoken 
 nicer, an done it better altogether just now, but I can t do 
 no better than I ve been taught. It s done anyhow, that s 
 a blessing." 
 
 A blessing it might be, but the blessing was so much in 
 disguise, that, after getting round the first curve in the 
 road, Melia found she couldn t see to steer, and jumped 
 off hurriedly to avoid falling, and to wipe her eyes. 
 
 "It s best so," Melia repeated, using her handkerchief 
 viciously. " I ll be up there alone in no time." 
 
 " No, you won t," said Archie, at her elbow. " You don t 
 know the way. I m coming too, Melia " and he went.
 
 CHAPTER LIII 
 
 MR. PETERS WINS AND LOSES 
 
 AT about half-past twelve that night, all was very quiet 
 and still upon the hillside. The whispering firs, of which 
 Melia had dreamt, were so perfectly motionless in the 
 bright moonlight that she could have thought they had 
 stopped their whispering to listen. When the moon rose 
 they had ceased talking. They had thrown out upon the 
 snow long feelers of black shadow that, creeping on as the 
 moon went her way, gradually touched the cottage. One 
 could have thought that the stiff fir-trees, themselves, were 
 crowding silently down the white hillside to hear what was 
 going on in the cottage. 
 
 Inside the cottage it was neither cold nor quiet. Mr. 
 Peters and his guest sat in that one, of the two rooms, 
 which served as kitchen and dining-room. They had a big 
 fire, a kettle sang upon the hob, toddy steamed upon the 
 table at each man s elbow, and Rivers chattered persist 
 ently. 
 
 But Mr. Peters seemed disinclined for conversation, and 
 it was curious that he should be the dull, silent player, 
 while Kivers laughed and talked, loudly and continuously, 
 for Mr. Peters had, with occasional small changes of fort 
 une, been winning all the evening. 
 
 Ton my soul," expostulated "Rivers, cheerful in ad 
 versity, as is expected of the virtuous, " you don t seem to 
 like winning. It doesn t agree with you, my dear Peters." 
 
 " It is all the same to me," returned Mr. Peters, dealing 
 the cards, and at the same time looking at his watch, which 
 lay upon the table. 
 
 " I ve known you much bettor company when all the luck
 
 MR. PETERS WINS AND LOSES 377 
 
 was coming my way/ Elvers grumbled, with a glance at the 
 pile of notes and coin opposite. " Come now, I wonder if 
 you d change if the cards did. I begin to feel as though I 
 might win yet." 
 
 What marvellous intuition some men possess ! It is 
 greatly developed, one is told, by asceticism. Kivers won 
 the next deal, and Mr. Peters threw down the cards. 
 
 " It is time to stop and have a little talk," he announced, 
 rising from his chair, and moving to the fire. 
 
 Now, if those listening fir-trees heard at all, surely, at 
 that moment, they held their breath, craning in the cold 
 moonlight over one another s shoulders. Kivers looked up 
 from his seat at the table, frowning darkly. 
 
 " Afraid to lose ? " 
 
 " No," Mr. Peters told him. " I cannot lose to-night," 
 but the words were scarcely out of his mouth before he felt 
 that loss was threatening, and ill-luck at his very door. 
 
 He listened, motionless, holding his breath and clenching 
 his hands, while Kivers, desperate at the thought of having, 
 to no purpose, allowed luck to be so long against himself, 
 pointed out that, among gentlemen and men of honor, a 
 night of it meant a night of it not a throwing down of the 
 cards directly luck turned. 
 
 No doubt his argument was strong. He could not see its 
 effect by his host s face, for that was now turned away, but 
 Mr. Peters next words were sufficient proof of his convic 
 tion. 
 
 " You are right," he said, " we must play again," and, be 
 fore Rivers, recovering his good-humor, could invite him 
 back to the table, there came a rap at the door, and the 
 sound of voices outside. 
 
 It was characteristic of the two men that, while Rivers, 
 starting in his chair, swore loudly, and made some coins 
 jingle by bringing his fist down heavily upon the table, Mr. 
 Peters stood quietly staring at him, and said nothing.
 
 378 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Who s that ? " Elvers asked, adding a curse for them, 
 whoever they might be. 
 
 But Mr. Peters shrugged his shoulders, and moved to 
 ward the door. He knew, at anyrate, one of the voices, 
 and if ever his belief in an inexorable fate wavered, it wav 
 ered then. Whoever was there was impatient, or else, as 
 might well be, Mr. Peters had hesitated longer, before re 
 plying, than he supposed, for the knocking was repeated be 
 fore he could open the door to let in Melia, followed by 
 Archie. 
 
 Melia stood, flushed with her climb and excitement, the 
 lamplight showing the color in lip and cheek and red-gold 
 hair against the background of the outside shadow. What 
 ever was thought by Mr. Peters and her father, Archie felt 
 proud as he looked at her. 
 
 " What s this, Em ly ? " Rivers demanded, staring from 
 one to the other, and, probably for the first time since 
 childhood, Melia, laughing and blushing, let someone else 
 answer for her, and turned to Archie for words. 
 
 He, poor fellow, had been eloquent enough in the last 
 half-hour, but now words seemed difficult. 
 
 " The fact is," he stammered presently, " we understand 
 one another now, and Melia that is we thought you 
 ought to know." 
 
 " Two of your geese, Cap n Peters," Melia chimed in, 
 with something nearer shyness, in voice and manner, than 
 she had ever shown to Mr. Peters before. " You told me 
 you heard em some nights, you know. Now, here s a pair 
 of em." 
 
 What thoughts were in Mr. Peters mind it was impos 
 sible to tell. His lips kept together, his eyes roved from 
 Melia to Rivers, from Rivers to Archie, and back again, 
 restless and incomprehensible. 
 
 All three were affected by those restless eyes, all differ 
 ently, none knowing why. Archie felt an unreasonable
 
 MR PETERS WINS AND LOSES 379 
 
 wrath begin to stir him, and stared back, drawing closer to 
 Melia, who skivered a little, almost without knowing that 
 she did so. Eivers fidgeted on the chair, from which he 
 had started for a moment as they came in. He was vexed 
 at the interruption, in spite of the news. Given another 
 hour or two, with bigger stakes, he had intended his cash 
 to come back, with that of his host to keep it company. 
 The news was all very well, but he had known, he thought, 
 that it must come soon, and it might just as well have been 
 told a day later. As it was, here was Peters most devilish 
 vexed, so Rivers told himself, and everything upset by a 
 couple of silly fools. 
 
 " Well," he told Melia, fretfully, at last, twisting in his 
 chair and looking apologetically at Mr. Peters as he spoke, 
 " this is very nice, of course, and all that, and it s quite 
 proper that I should know of it. But your way of coming 
 to tell me is well, in fact it s dev lish improper, pon my 
 word it is, Em ly. Then, what on earth are we to do with 
 you up here ? That s what Captain Peters is wondering, 
 and you can t be surprised if he s vexed. Pon my soul, I m 
 vexed myself, and why the deuce you came at this time of 
 night I can t think ! " 
 
 Poor Melia began to partake of the astonishment evi 
 dently caused by her unwelcome appearance. She couldn t 
 think, now, why she had come. It was too ridiculous to say, 
 or even to think, there, in that cosey, warm, well-lit cottage, 
 before those three men, that she had defied the winter night, 
 not to mention the proprieties, for the sake of a silly dream, 
 now utterly scorned. Melia s ready wit had deserted her 
 that night, and it was Archie who, seeing her confusion, 
 came to the rescue. 
 
 " She wanted to tell you, and I asked her to let me bring 
 her," he announced, taking his eyes off the silent Mr. Peters, 
 and turning to the Champion of the Proprieties. He didn t 
 feel the necessity of explaining at what point in their jour-
 
 380 MB. PETERS 
 
 11 oy Melia and he had arrived at an understanding, nor did 
 it seem to him that anyone else need know of Melia s first 
 intention to do that journey alone. Prudence, and a mas 
 terful manner, were developing in this pupil of Love. So 
 much so, that when the plain-spoken Melia showed signs of 
 an uneasy conscience at this sketchy explanation of their 
 appearance, Archie, to his own astonishment and hers, 
 frowned so fiercely that Melia at once, by her silence, 
 owned obedience to her newly established lord and master. 
 
 It was then that Mr. Peters, recovering apparently from 
 his surprise, came forward, not only cheerfully, but with 
 more of his old manner than Melia had seen for many 
 weeks. He congratulated them vociferously, his big voice 
 booming through the little room, and insisted upon shaking 
 hands with Archie, who still looked upon him rather as 
 a dog with a bone might look upon another dog boneless. 
 
 He swept up his winnings from the table, shouting down 
 Rivers angry objections. He got out fresh tumblers and 
 mixed for both of his new guests, though not another drop 
 would he touch himself. 
 
 " And how did you come ? " he asked Melia, while 
 Archie and her father were apparently trying to find some 
 topic of common interest. 
 
 " On our bikes, of course," Melia answered, beaming 
 upon him, " I couldn t have done it but for you, Cap n 
 Peters." 
 
 " That is true," Mr. Peters acknowledged, and lapsed into 
 silence for awhile before he spoke again. 
 
 " How did you know where to find him ? " 
 
 " He told me this afternoon, of course. Didn t you know 
 that ? " 
 
 No, Mr. Peters had not known that. 
 
 " At what time did you see him ? " he asked, carelessly, 
 being apparently hard up for fresh topics of conversation. 
 
 " Three o clock, maybe," said Melia, after meditation.
 
 MR. PETERS WINS AND LOSES 381 
 
 " I vexed him a bit, Cap n Peters, an that partly made me 
 want to see him, I think," so Mr. Peters knew that, while 
 Melia could not have come without his help, she probably 
 would not have known where to come had he not also tried 
 to help Mrs. Jimps. 
 
 What he thought of all this no one knew. He played the 
 host with patience, and, as Melia refused to usurp the other 
 room, they all sat about the fire until she fell asleep in her 
 chair. When the gray dawn came, all of them, except Mr. 
 Peters, looked jaded and rather miserable. Melia and 
 Archie yawned over their early breakfast, while Eivers, the 
 gray stubble of a night s growth sprouting on his cheeks, 
 in unpleasant contrast with the limp, blue-black mustache, 
 was openly enraged with everyone. He was angry with 
 Melia for coming, with Archie for bringing her, and with 
 Mr. Peters for rattling his, Eivers , money in his pocket, 
 and refusing to let him stay the day. 
 
 It was only at the very moment of departure that Rivers 
 cheered up. That was when, Archie and Melia having 
 moved off, Mr. Peters explained, still chinking the coins in 
 his trousers pockets. 
 
 " The good Rivers is angry ? " he said, watching the two 
 young people as they went. 
 
 " The silly young fools," Rivers told him, following his 
 glance ; " you and I were never like that, my dear Peters." 
 
 " Never ! How foolish of you, my friend, to speak to her 
 of coming here ! " 
 
 " Gad ! so it was," Rivers admitted. " I won t be such a 
 fool next time, and I suppose I may come again, though 
 you won t let me stay now. I feel it would do me a lot of 
 good." 
 
 " You need rest," Mr. Peters told him, " and I could give 
 it to you up here. Only, what is the use if you are always 
 known to be here, and always fetched ? " 
 
 " You re a sharp man in some ways, Peters," the other
 
 382 MR. PETERS 
 
 admitted, looking at him with the air of one who had dis 
 covered a new thing. " Are you staying here to-night ? " 
 
 " Yes," Peters told him simply, without asking the rea 
 son for this curiosity. 
 
 " I may go through to Glasgow this afternoon, if it s fine 
 for a week," said liivers, with a wink. " 1 forgot to tell 
 Em ly of that sooner, but I ll do so." 
 
 " I shall see you, perhaps, when you return," said Mr. 
 Peters, smiling, and watched the three of them go down 
 the hill, where Archie and Melia hoped to find their bi 
 cycles, while Eivers made for the nearest railway station.
 
 CHAPTER LIV 
 A FATHER S FAREWELL 
 
 ME. PETEES stood at his cottage door, and watched until 
 he could see nothing of his visitors. Then he went in again, 
 and, preparing for himself good coffee and other little luxu 
 ries, he made a hearty meal. This was in complete accord 
 ance with Mr. Peters rule of life, to take every ease and lux 
 ury within his reach, to keep his big body in good condition 
 for any demand he might make upon its strength, and to 
 think not at all of the unattainable. 
 
 After breakfast he found the list of Leith steamers, and, 
 after looking that through, he smoked, seeing dreams of his 
 own in the smoke of the Dream Mixture. Then he went 
 out of the cottage and plunging among the firs, was at once 
 hidden by them, while they whispered to one another, their 
 swaying heads stirred by the northwest wind, that was now 
 rising. 
 
 Mr. Peters was hidden for an hour, unseen except by the 
 rabbits which came out of their burrows for a little food, 
 and which, finding that he took no notice of them, sat up 
 to watch him r ^rionsly. 
 
 Then, coming back, hot and panting, he took out the 
 cards and tried his old game of Patience, but tried in vain. 
 
 He lay back in his chair, jingling what money was still 
 in his pockets, and staring across at the little chest of 
 drawers, in which he had stowed away most of that which 
 Eivers had lost. Then, at last, with a shrug of the shoul 
 ders at his own foolishness, he locked the cottage door and 
 started for Edinburgh, although the wind had begun to
 
 384 MR. PETERS 
 
 moan over the white hills, under a dirty gray sky, and a 
 few big flakes of snow drifted against his face as he 
 went. 
 
 Early that afternoon, Melia sat and shivered in her little 
 room behind the shop. Sometimes the outside shop was 
 not cold enough for her, and at other times that little room, 
 in spite of gas and fire, couldn t keep her warm. Her head 
 ached too, and she felt very tired and stupid after the last 
 night s escapade. She tried to take comfort in thinking of 
 Archie, but could only wonder how she would manage to 
 be a good wife for him without neglecting Kivers. 
 
 " Gunpowder and matches d go better together," she de 
 cided, gloomily, and her head ached more than ever at the 
 thought of what lay before her. 
 
 To her came Nell Moriarty, to leave her purse in Melia s 
 charge. 
 
 " There s a good deal in it," she told Melia, " because I 
 had a check from father this morning, and cashed it in 
 Princes Street. Now I m going to make some calls, and I 
 don t want to carry it about all the afternoon, or to Fake it 
 home first." 
 
 "It ll be safe here, Miss Nelly," Melia told her, and 
 put the purse in her pocket, while Nell surveyed her crit 
 ically. 
 
 " I ve the awfullest headache," Melia explained, dis 
 mally, and Nell went oft 3 , saying that they must see about 
 that when she came back. 
 
 Presently Rivers put in an appearance, in a better tem 
 per, and with his cheeks clean-shaven, and, though still 
 frowning, prepared to forgive last night s doings if Melia 
 would make reasonable amends. 
 
 " I m going to run through to Glasgow to-night, for a 
 week, on urgent business," he announced, shaking the snow 
 off his coat on to the shop floor. 
 
 " Yes, father. I hope you ll wrap up well," said Melia,
 
 A FATHER S FAREWELL 385 
 
 dutifully. " You ll write, won t you ? and I hope you ll 
 have a good time." 
 
 " I don t know that there ll be any chance of a good 
 time," Rivers told her, with severity. " The fact is, your 
 tomfoolery last night lost me a lot of money. It so hap 
 pened that Captain Peters (you saw we had played a little) 
 had all the luck, and all my ready money. Things were 
 just coming right when you turned up." 
 
 " I m so sorry," Melia told him, penitently, " though I 
 wouldn t like you to take Cap n Peters money either. Still, 
 he might have played till you got yours back." 
 
 " Well, he didn t, you see," retorted Rivers, viciously. 
 " To-night, though, it ll be different in Glasgow ; and I ll 
 bring you back a wedding present. We won t waste any 
 more time over that business, will we, hey ? " 
 
 Melia s flushed cheeks could scarcely grow hotter, but 
 she answered hurriedly that she didn t know about that 
 business. " Time enough to talk about that later," she 
 objected. 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! girlish affectation," Rivers decided. 
 " I m going to get you a present anyway, my dear Em ly, 
 at a sale I know of. But, by the by, that reminds me I 
 haven t got half enough cash." 
 
 " Never mind, father," Melia told him, relieved at this 
 announcement, " you ll get it some other time, when things 
 are a bit settled." 
 
 " Rubbish ! " said Rivers, impatiently. " What money 
 have you got ? I could return it the next time I come 
 in." 
 
 " Something under a pound," Melia thought, and taking 
 Nelly s purse out, together with the shabby old thing that 
 held all her worldly wealth, she put the first back into 
 her pocket, and emptied her own upon the counter, while 
 Rivers watched. 
 
 " Eighteen an seven," she announced. " You could 
 
 25
 
 386 MR. PETERS 
 
 leave me the three an seven, couldn t you, father, an 
 would you like the purse ?" 
 
 " Fifteen shillings ! What s the use of that to me ? " 
 snarled Rivers. " 1 ifteen or twenty pounds might do," and 
 so they might, since Kivers meant to control Fortune early 
 that evening at Glasgow. 
 
 " My ! what a lot," Melia exclaimed, " 1 wish I d got it 
 for you, pa, 1 do indeed, but 1 never did have so much in 
 all my life ! " 
 
 " You soon will, now," Kivers suggested, consolingly. 
 " Ha ! a bright idea," and starting, apparently surprised at 
 his own fertility of expedient, " I have it ! " he announced. 
 
 " I m so glad/ said Melia, much relieved. 
 
 " It s as simple as possible," Kivers went on. " I ll go 
 round and see Master Archie. lie s good for twenty, I 
 should think," but Melia stared aghast. 
 
 " You can t do that, not for anything." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! " Kivers insisted, beginning to frown 
 again. " Women don t understand business. Tell me 
 where to find him. I ve no time to waste in searching all 
 over the place." 
 
 " I don t know," Melia told him in a strange low voice. 
 " I couldn t tell you if I did." 
 
 " Wouldn t, you mean," Rivers retorted. His eyes were 
 bloodshot, his mustache trembled, his hands worked upon 
 the counter. Pie was not a good thing to look upon. " The 
 youngster will have the sense to see that he owes me a 
 turn, after making a mess of things as he and you did last 
 night," Kivers went on. " Come ! " 
 
 But Melia, whose face had now gone very white and 
 stiff, just pressed her lips more firmly together and shook 
 her head, eying her father steadily. It wasn t worth while, 
 she felt, to repeat that she didn t know where to find Ar 
 chie, since, if she had known, she wouldn t have told. 
 
 But Rivers, gnawing at his ragged mustache, had another
 
 A FATHER S FAREWELL 387 
 
 idea. If Melia had not come when she did, he would have 
 played on pretty safely with what money he still had. 
 What he felt was that to do the business as thoroughly as 
 he meant to do it to-night, he must not start to win at once 
 and win uninterruptedly. Money he must have, to be able 
 to play a losing game at first. 
 
 " What s in that other purse of yours ? " he asked, point 
 ing down across the counter in the direction of Melia s 
 pocket. 
 
 " I don t know. Tisn t mine," she told him, and took 
 her eyes off his, for a moment, to look towards the door, 
 wishing that someone, anyone, would come in. As she 
 spoke, her right hand instinctively stole down to the purse, 
 careful for its safety, but, before she looked at Rivers again, 
 he leant across and took her roughly by the wrist. 
 
 " Come, let s see that purse," he told her. 
 
 Melia hung back, protesting, but Rivers held on, sure 
 that there must be something worth having, and made the 
 more obstinate by her struggles. 
 
 " You keep two purses, do you ? " he hissed at her, 
 wrenching at her clenched hand and the pocket, all the 
 while. " It will be his money, I suppose. You ll take it 
 from him already, will you ? but you re too delicate- 
 minded to ask for a loan for your father. Let me see it, 
 I say ! " 
 
 They wrestled and swung to and fro over the counter, 
 Rivers, thoroughly maddened now, wrenching at the girl s 
 wrist, and careless how much he hurt her, while Melia, 
 wild-eyed, and with set teeth, clung by her left hand to a 
 low shelf, and threw all her weight downward that she 
 might not be dragged across. 
 
 "T must scream!" she panted, at his ear, but Rivers 
 took no notice, thinking it an idle threat. 
 
 " Out with it, you jade," he told her, " or I ll come round 
 the counter for it."
 
 388 MR. PETERS 
 
 He had just determined to do that, without any further 
 waste of time, when Melia suddenly ceased to make any 
 resistance. She caught sight of Mr. Peters standing in the 
 doorway, and she struggled no more, but when Rivers, 
 following her gaze, turned, and saw what had happened, his 
 rage boiled over. He struck Melia heavily across the face, 
 and, cursing her for an undutiful slut, sent her reeling 
 back among the boxes. 
 
 For some seconds after that, none of them moved. 
 Melia, half lying, half sitting upon the floor, had struck her 
 head against a shelf-corner, and, though still clutching the 
 purse, scarcely knew where she was, or what she did. 
 
 Rivers, suddenly looking years older, still muttered and 
 cursed between his teeth. As for Mr. Peters, he waited, 
 with a face so immovable that no one could have suipposed 
 he had seen anything. 
 
 Presently, when Melia began to stir, he stepped past Riv 
 ers, and helped her to the old settee in her own little room. 
 
 "You are better now," he told Melia, and Melia said 
 yes, and thanked him, grateful that he had said no more, 
 and still fumbling anxiously at the disputed purse. 
 
 " I m a silly, Cap n Peters," she told him, apologetically. 
 " I m always vexin him with my ways. I don t know how 
 to put things. He never hit me before, and I m sure he 
 won t again." 
 
 "I think not," Mr. Peters agreed, and said no more, 
 excepting that he understood her father to say that he was 
 going to Glasgow, and, if so, that he would see him to the 
 station. 
 
 "Thank .you, Cap n Peters. I d be glad if you did," 
 Melia admitted. " I can t put things right now, and he ll 
 feel different next time we meet." 
 
 To this Mr. Peters made no answer, but, after looking 
 down upon Melia for a moment, said good-by, and went 
 off without offering to shake hands, taking Rivers with him.
 
 A FATHER S FAREWELL 389 
 
 " Mark you, Captain Peters," the other began, directly 
 they got outside the shop, " that girl is a bitter disappoint 
 ment to me. You saw me chastise her ? " and Mr. Peters 
 said that he had seen him. 
 
 " I ought to have done so long ago," Eivers declared, 
 working himself into a passion again ; "I hope I may not 
 have to do so again." 
 
 " I am sure you will not," Mr. Peters assured him. They 
 were now making for the House of Residence, and Rivers 
 pointed this out. 
 
 " I ve nothing to go there for," he said ; " have you ? " 
 
 " Just one moment," suggested Mr. Peters, " a little 
 money and a bag from my room. That is all," and Rivers 
 agreed to go with him. 
 
 They went, and they left, together. It was at the door 
 that Mr. Peters said good-by to Mrs. Jimps. 
 
 " The good Rivers has told you that he goes to Glas 
 gow ? " he asked her. 
 
 " Yes, for a week on urgent business," Mrs. Jimps said, 
 with a little melancholy smile for Mr. Peters, a smile which 
 meant a very great deal, for it was intended to convey that 
 Mrs. Jimps remembered the lesson she had got, and neither 
 expected, nor wished, to see Mr. Rivers return from Glas 
 gow. The smile was also meant to show that Mrs. Jimps 
 knew Mr. Peters was really saying good-by, and was going 
 off also, though not to Glasgow. It should, too, have ex 
 pressed a great deal of honest heart-ache, and a great deal 
 of warm good feeling, if it were to show half of what poor 
 Mrs. Jimps felt. But as, for many years, a certain dignity 
 and coldness of demeanor had been her chief aim, perhaps 
 a smile that could contain so much was, for her, an impos 
 sibility. At anyrate, Mr. Peters did not seem particularly 
 impressed, and he and Rivers went away together. 
 
 As they went, Rivers still grumbled of Melia s scandalous 
 and perverse behavior.
 
 390 MR. PETERS 
 
 " Gad ! sir, she deserves to be frightened," he told Mr. 
 Peters. " Jt would serve the girl right if she never saw her 
 poor old father jigain ! " 
 
 " It would be what she deserves," said Mr. Peters, and he 
 said it with a heartiness that pleased Kivers very much. 
 
 " She d think more of me, she d be a more dutiful daugh 
 ter, if she thought, for a time, that she had seen the last of 
 me," Kivers suggested, stopping to stare at Mr. Peters as the 
 thought came to him, and Mr. Peters stared back, silent, 
 but very much interested. 
 
 " I ll do it ! " Rivers decided, and then and there in, of 
 course, a refreshment bar he called for a pen and paper, 
 and, dashing off a few lines, handed them to the attentive 
 Mr. Peters. 
 
 " EMILY, Your disobedience and your distrust have 
 hurt me more than I can tell you. I feel that there is no 
 more pleasure in being near you, and that I am better away. 
 Whether I shall ever return, it is not for me to know. I 
 shall soon be an old man, and cannot naturally expect to 
 live many years longer, especially since I have no child to 
 comfort my old age." 
 
 Rivers was very pleased with this composition. So much 
 was he pleased, that excitement made him forgetful. The 
 letter which he handed to Mr. Peters was signed " Joshua 
 Buncombe." But Mr. Peters said nothing, only he put the 
 letter into an envelope for Rivers directly after reading it, 
 and it was not until he was alone, later in the afternoon, 
 that he laughed over this. Then he laughed a great deal, 
 but he was not mirthful, and if Rivers had heard him, and 
 had known the cause, he would have felt frightened ; but 
 he never heard it, and no one told him. 
 
 When the letter was written and posted, Mr. Peters said 
 that lie could see Rivers no farther on his way to Glasgow.
 
 A FATHER S FAREWELL 391 
 
 At this Elvers was disturbed. He had counted upon their 
 going to the hills together, and hoped to work round to the 
 subject of a loan before then, since he knew that Mr. Peters 
 liked money on the table when he played. True, he might 
 go back and talk to Melia again, but, after posting the 
 letter, that was to be avoided if possible, and Rivers could 
 not feel at all sure of success with Melia in any case. 
 
 It was Mr. Peters himself who solved the difficulty. 
 
 " The girl was obstinate about money, was she not ? " he 
 asked, casually, as they went along. 
 
 " Yes, and she s put me in a devil of a hole," Rivers as 
 sured him. " I wanted cash to take to - - Glasgow, in 
 case you had last night s luck again. She refused to lend 
 me one penny, sir, of money, twenty pounds it was, that 
 I had given her two days ago." 
 
 Twenty pounds ! Mr. Peters was delighted to oblige the 
 good Rivers, and pressed it upon him at once. 
 
 " You will, no doubt, find that enough to begin with 
 to-night," he decided. " You are going to win, are you 
 not ? " and with that they separated, for the time, without 
 Mr. Peters having so much as hinted that he would like 
 an I U for the twenty pounds.
 
 CHAPTER LV 
 
 NELL KEEPS THE SHOP 
 
 WHEN Nell went back for her purse, she found Melia 
 shivering worse than ever, upon the old red settee, and de 
 cided promptly that she must go home. Not only that, but 
 Xell went out and fetched a cab before she said anything 
 about her decision, and then refused to argue the point, 
 because the cab was waiting. 
 
 " But who ll see to the shop ? " poor Melia debated. 
 " It can t be left, Miss Nelly, and I ve not a soul I can trust 
 to take it on." 
 
 " I will," Nell announced. " Off you go, now ! " and 
 laughed to see Melia s dismay. 
 
 " You can t do it ! " Melia declared. " What d your pa 
 say, Miss Nelly ? I can t think of it." 
 
 " Very well, then," Nelly told her, " wait a minute, and 
 we ll manage another way." 
 
 She slipped out, and presently returned triumphant. 
 
 " Your friend in the smoking-cap isn t such a bad little 
 man, after all," she told Melia. " He s coming soon, to put 
 up the shutters. I m going to close early this afternoon. 
 Now, I won t listen any longer," and, with that, she hustled 
 Melia gently into the cab, wondering, as she did so, where 
 on earth the poor girl had got such a swollen face. 
 
 But when Melia reached the cab, she remembered some 
 thing important, and insisted upon going back to the little 
 back room, to speak of it. 
 
 " You ll remember, the first time you came here, that 
 you found a young gentleman talking to me ? " she asked 
 Nell, and Nell, reflecting, said that she did.
 
 NELL KEEPS THE SHOP 393 
 
 " P r aps he ll be here before you close," Melia sug 
 gested. " I don t know that he will, but he does come in 
 at tinies. It s Mr. Inch, from Drumsheugh Gardens, Miss 
 Xelly, and he d be frightened to see you here, an me away. 
 Will you please tell him, from me, that I m all right, only 
 I ve got a cold, and I ll be out again to-morrow ?" 
 
 Nell nodded, with wide-open eyes, and followed Melia, 
 as, having relieved her mind, that damsel hurried to the 
 cab. But, being safely ensconced therein, she thought 
 further revelations necessary, and let down the window. 
 
 " We re engaged since last night," she told Nell, and, 
 the cabman being impatient, she was driven off before she 
 could receive congratulations. 
 
 As for Nell, she stared after the retreating cab in silence, 
 and then, not having had the advantage of a mother s 
 teaching, and being, moreover, utterly at a loss for words to 
 express the feelings of the moment, she hugely delighted 
 two passing small boys, by a long, low whistle. They imi 
 tated her, and Nell retired promptly, not feeling quite sure 
 whether she wanted her ally in the smoking-cap to come 
 at once, or whether she would like him to keep her waiting 
 until Mr. Archie Inch came. 
 
 Whatever she might wish, Archie was the first to arrive, 
 and was received with a dignified and strictly business-like 
 air, which Nell found it difficult to preserve as Archie stared 
 about him. 
 
 " What can I show you ? " Nell inquired politely, think 
 ing at the same time that she knew well enough what he 
 wanted to see. 
 
 Archie bowing, and staring more than ever, almost won 
 dering whether he had not lost his wits and wandered into 
 the wrong shop, asked whether Miss Eivers was there. 
 
 " Oh, it s Mr. Inch, is it ? " Nell suggested, and Archie, 
 blushing, he scarcely knew why, told her that it was Mr. 
 Inch, and repeated his question.
 
 394 MB. PETERS 
 
 " Miss Rivers has gone home, Mr. Inch, and left a mes 
 sage in ease you called," Nell told him. " She says that 
 she has a cold, and is sure to be here again to-morrow. 
 But " (and here Nell s manner changed altogether, and she 
 leant over the counter with a confidential air) " I think a 
 doctor had better see her to-night, and I was wondering 
 whether I should send one down, or whether you d like to 
 do so yourself." 
 
 " Oh, I will, of course, at once," Archie told her, and 
 hurried away for Maitland, without paying much atten 
 tion to Nell s assurance that she only wished to be on the 
 safe side for Melia s sake, and that Melia wouldn t be 
 allowed to think about her work the next morning, in any 
 case. 
 
 " That s a very nice boy," Nell decided, as she went to 
 the door, and watched Archie s long legs flying west. " He s 
 awfully fond of her. I don t believe he looked at me 
 scarcely. I wonder if anybody would really care like that 
 if I were ill ! I suppose the opposition shop may as well 
 come and close this now. Here he comes ! " 
 
 But it wasn t the " opposition shop " that came. It was 
 Tom Dunbar, dropping in, on his way to " diggings," for 
 an ounce of Dream Mixture, and Nell, taken very much by 
 surprise, did not face him so coolly as usual. 
 
 " Well, I never ! " Tom ejaculated, when he had recov 
 ered a little from the shock. " Where s Miss Rivers ? " 
 
 " She s ill," Nell told him. " She s only just gone. I m 
 sorry you ve missed her." 
 
 At this Tom stared, but, having lately made up his mind 
 to new tactics, he only said that it did not matter. 
 
 "I m sorry she s ill, though," he said, "awfully sorry." 
 
 " Oh, I don t think you need trouble," Nell suggested. 
 
 She isn t very bad, and besides, she has someone who ll 
 take care of her." 
 
 " Yes, I know her father," Tom decided.
 
 NELL KEEPS THE SHOP 395 
 
 " Oh, no," said Nell, letting the information of Melia s 
 having a father go by unheeded. " Perhaps you didn t 
 know Miss Rivers was engaged ? " 
 
 Tom whistled, just as Nell herself had done. 
 
 " Jove ! " he remarked, " he s a lucky fellow." 
 
 " He s a very nice one," said Nell, " and he ll be very 
 good to her, I m sure. I never saw a boy so much worried 
 as he was when I told him." 
 
 " Yes, she s the sort of girl a fellow could get very fond 
 of," Tom decided. " I don t believe she could humbug a 
 fellow if she tried." 
 
 He had lately, with great exertion to himself, avoided 
 Nell as much as possible, and treated her in a merely hail- 
 fellow-well-met style when forced to speak. In accordance 
 with this plan, which he wickedly told himself was mere 
 politeness since she found him such a nuisance, he now 
 wished her good-night, -and made for the door. 
 
 " I ll look in to-morrow, and congratulate Miss Rivers," 
 he said, as he went. 
 
 " She won t be here," Nell called after him. " I sha n t 
 let her come out. Perhaps I shall have to be here myself," 
 which last remark, one fears, cannot possibly be considered 
 Nell s true belief. 
 
 Tom, knowing Lucius as he did, grinned at the notion. 
 
 "Ah, well, I ll wait until the day after," he told her, and 
 Nell felt that this was carrying the ideas of mere friendship 
 too far. 
 
 " You might stay and help me to put up the shutters," 
 she suggested, but Tom refused calmly, to all appearance, 
 but in reality with remorse. 
 
 " Awfully sorry," he told her, looking unconcernedly 
 into the street. " but I promised the Macgregor girls that 
 I d call to-night on my way down. It s their mother s af 
 ternoon, you know." 
 
 Now, the Macgregor girls ranked very much with Mrs.
 
 ;}90 MR. PETERS 
 
 MacQuestra, Moriarty s Widdy, in poor Nell s esteem, and 
 she felt the situation to be desperate. 
 
 " I wish you d help me," she said plaintively, but Tom, 
 standing with his back still towards her, shook his head 
 decidedly. 
 
 " I know it seems rude, but you see," he explained, " you 
 want to be just friends and no more, and I daresay you re 
 right, though I didn t think so at first. It s getting easier 
 now, though, and I feel that soon it ll be all right. But 
 I can t trust myself yet not to worry you, and so it s better 
 that I shouldn t be hanging about." 
 
 There was no answer, and Tom, under his breath, called 
 himself an unmannerly brute. " Of course," he went on, 
 " there s no such great hurry for me. If you like to go, 
 I ll run this show with pleasure for half an hour, and put 
 up the shutters myself." 
 
 Still no answer, and Tom began to think he w r as being 
 made a fool of. 
 
 " By the by," he w r ent on, " I suppose you re right about 
 that buckle I gave you. If you ll let me have it some time, 
 I ll send it to one of the girls at home." 
 
 This was carrying his scheme too far, and might easily 
 have been fatal. Perhaps, even, the scamp deserved that 
 it should be. He made a step farther, and then turned with 
 his hand upon the door. 
 
 " Do you want this left open ? " he asked, but Nell made 
 no reply. Her hands w r ere up to her face, and on her waist, 
 as the front of her jacket opened, shone the silver buckle 
 where it had shone for days past when Tom was not likely 
 to see it. 
 
 " D - the Macgregor girls," said Tom hastily, and I 
 am sure insincerely. . . . The " opposition shop " found 
 him there half an hour later.
 
 CHAPTER LVI 
 
 A SONG, A JOURNEY, AND A VOYAGE 
 
 ALL through the day the snow had been drifting down, 
 and when Rivers, walking up from Colinton, reached the 
 open hillside at Bonaly, he could see no track of any kind 
 indeed, he could not see far at all. A dazzling, dancing, 
 whirling cloud of snow-flakes troubled his eyes, and con 
 fused his brain. It was no ordinary invitation that would 
 have tempted Eivers up the brae that dusky afternoon. 
 Even now he hesitated, standing just on the border of the 
 open moorland, and debating within himself whether this 
 little expedition, profitable though it would be, might not 
 safely stand over until better weather came. 
 
 " It would be a great joke," said Rivers, chuckling, " if, 
 after all, I used friend Peters twenty pounds in a little trip 
 to Glasgow," and he was still chuckling over this idea, when 
 Mr. Peters himself hailed him, and came striding down. 
 
 Whence he had risen, and how long he had waited, Mr. 
 Peters did not say. There had been very little time for 
 him to do any business in the city, and yet reach the hills 
 before Rivers did. However, there he stood, snow-covered, 
 a very polar bear in size and shape, explaining that, in such 
 weather, he had feared Rivers would lose his way if left to 
 come alone. 
 
 " Gad ! a fellow might miss the path on a night like 
 this," said Rivers, as they climbed, " and be seen no more, 
 until the snow melted." 
 
 " That is quite true, Mr. Peters assured him. " I would 
 not have that happen to you for worlds," and they stumbled 
 on, Rivers growing more loquacious as he thought of the
 
 398 MR. PETERS 
 
 fire, and the whiskey, and the ards, awaiting them at the 
 end of the journey. 
 
 " Did you ever use the dice ? " he asked Mr. Peters, 
 clutching at his arm on making a false step. 
 
 " At backgammon, often," Mr. Peters told him, but Riv 
 ers didn t mean that. 
 
 " Jt s an amusing thing to put a little money on a throw, 
 if one gets tired of the cards," he suggested. " Have you 
 never done that ? " 
 
 Yes, Mr. Peters had done that, but very seldom. " The 
 dice always go against me," he acknowledged. 
 
 " We ll have a throw to-night, if you care for a change," 
 Rivers told him. " I put dice in my pocket," and Mr. 
 Peters said something to the effect that it was very thought 
 ful of the good Rivers, and that they would see. 
 
 " I shall be getting an old man soon now," Rivers told 
 Mr. Peters, stumbling again. " If I m to take the journey 
 that gypsy body spoke of, I d better set about it pretty soon. 
 Your voyage could wait, for that matter, but they re both 
 to come off this year, didn t she say ? " 
 
 Mr. Peters had forgotten all this, and was much inter 
 ested, making Rivers repeat all that he remembered of their 
 two fortunes. 
 
 " You a journey, and I a voyage and both this year," 
 he repeated. " It is curious. I had forgotten that." 
 
 Yes, I a journey and you a voyage," Rivers insisted, 
 " and I couldn t make out why she drew that distinction, 
 you know. Hang me if I do now ? A fellow can t travel 
 far, in this little corner of the earth, without a voyage, can 
 he ? " 
 
 But something about Rivers speech had amused Mr. 
 Peters, and he began to laugh, as Rivers had once made 
 him laugh before. Started, he could not stop. He roared, 
 stumbling and staggering in his walk, and at last, giving 
 way to the fit altogether, rolled shrieking in the snow.
 
 A SONG, A JOURNEY, AND A VOYAGE 399 
 
 The thing was not, however, laughter-provoking to see. 
 Mr. Peters looked scarcely sane, and Kivers hand closed 
 upon the butt of the revolver, which he often carried, and 
 had slipped into a pocket to-night lest a ruined man should 
 turn restive. Mr. Peters, however, rose from the snow, and 
 stopped laughing as suddenly as he had begun. 
 
 It was nearly six when they reached the cottage, and that 
 night Mr. Peters, instead of having a quiet meal, and then 
 leaving it to liivers to suggest play, as had been done the 
 night before, insisted upon bringing out the cards at once. 
 
 " You can feed afterwards if you care to," he said, and, 
 setting down whiskey and biscuits by Kivers side, began. 
 
 The cards were favorable, and he mostly won for the 
 first half hour or so ; nevertheless, he tossed the cards 
 across the room, calling upon Eivers for the dice, and they 
 threw, one against the other, turn by turn, and the luck 
 changed. 
 
 But, whereas at first, while he won, Mr. Peters was eager, 
 fretful, and impatient, now he grew cool. Throw after 
 throw went against him. Once, even, a dice that came 
 from, Rivers only knew where, fell and rattled upon the 
 floor, and Eivers, to cover it, had to sweep down the two 
 that were rolling on the table. But Mr. Peters gave no sign 
 of noticing anything strange. He looked far more often 
 at the watch, lying upon the table beside him, than at the 
 dice, and he played for whatever stakes Rivers named. 
 
 At last it drew close upon eight o clock a time when, in 
 the cities, people are stirring by the hundred ; but eight 
 is a late enough hour upon the Pentlands, when the snow 
 lies deep, and before the lambing season drags one out. 
 
 It was then that Mr. Peters, answering Rivers call, care 
 lessly put his hand upon the table where his pile had been 
 at the beginning, to push his stake forward, and found 
 nothing there. 
 
 His side of the table showed not a note, not a coin.
 
 400 MR- PETERS 
 
 They were all on the far side, and already being picked up 
 by Rivers and stuffed into bis pockets. 
 
 When he saw this, however, Mr. Peters, instead of swear 
 ing, began to laugh, looking at his watch ; and Rivers, 
 seeing him laugh, sniggered too. 
 
 " One more," Mr. Peters told him, still laughing, and 
 then, putting a hand to his own throat, he lifted a gold 
 coin, hung upon a silk cord, from under his shirt. 
 
 " What s that ? " asked Rivers, pushing the dice-box 
 over, and craning across to look at it. 
 
 " It is a gold coin, a souvenir," Mr. Peters told him, 
 " though I did not need one," he added. 
 
 " Ha ! Parting gift. Tender recollections, and so on," 
 Rivers suggested, leaning back without seeing more than 
 that it was gold. " Here s a sovereign against it. Tell me 
 the story." 
 
 " Anything will do against it," said Mr. Peters, " and I 
 will tell you the story presently." 
 
 Then they threw, Mr. Peters casting a three and four, 
 Rivers winning with double fives, and Mr. Peters laughed 
 again. 
 
 " I will tell you the story," he said, pushing the coin a 
 little way across the table with the tip of one finger. 
 
 But when Rivers stretched out a hand to take it, Mr. 
 Peters clutched that hand, and then the other, before it 
 could touch the revolver in Rivers pocket. Then, throw 
 ing all his weight recklessly across, he crushed down his 
 enemy and the table together he on the top, in some way 
 so twisting and injuring the man s arms that they hung 
 limp as though dislocated at the shoulders ; and presently 
 Rivers lay upon the floor with a running knot about his 
 knees and ankles. " Now I can tell you that story quietly," 
 said Mr. Peters. 
 
 The man upon the floor shouted, rolling to and fro, but 
 Mr. Peters smiled.
 
 A SONG, A JOURNEY, AND A VOYAGE 401 
 
 " At the nearest farm," he said, " they go to bed at eight 
 on these nights. They have told me so. Come now, listen 
 to my story, for I have no time to lose. I take a voyage 
 to-night, but first, my good Eivers or, let us say, Bun 
 combe I must tell this story and start you on your way." 
 
 He twisted another cord about Rivers arms, useless 
 though they seemed, pulling the elbows back until the man 
 writhed with pain. 
 
 Then he dragged him up on to a chair, and he finished 
 with another rope about the neck. 
 
 u Listen to the wind," he said. " If an unlucky man 
 came this way to-night, and heard you, he would only pass 
 by and make haste to get home, away from the shrieking 
 devil of a wind." 
 
 He stood and looked down, laughing, upon the poor 
 wretch, who now spoke, promising silence, and begging 
 Mr. Peters to take all the money and to go. He had no 
 more, he protested, and he would sit quiet all the night, 
 if Mr. Peters left him there ; but, while he begged, one 
 arm began to recover a little sensation and power of move 
 ment, and that hand shifted, in spite of the cord, towards 
 the revolver. 
 
 Mr. Peters saw this at once, and, leaning over, found 
 the revolver and laid it upon the table. 
 
 " Some one might come," he said, simply. " You remind 
 me that I have not told my story, and it is getting late. 
 Listen ! " 
 
 Tf this was a story that Mr. Peters told, he had his own 
 peculiar way of telling it, for, instead of speaking, he only 
 began a song. " bianca e fredda," he sang the hack 
 neyed Italian air which had sounded in a murderer s ears 
 long ago, when he rode through the night from Bonville 
 City. 
 
 A shepherd from the nearest farm passed by that even 
 ing, not far from the cottage, and later, as he supped his 
 
 26
 
 402 MR- PETERS 
 
 porridge, told his wife of the queer \vays of the foreign 
 gentleman, whom they knew by sight. 
 
 The cottage was lit up, the man said, and the foreign 
 gentleman was singing as merry as might be. He had 
 thought of knocking at the door to wish him good-night, 
 but the snow was deep, the wind was skirling around, and 
 altogether " it wasna eannie." 
 
 What lie heard was the song that Lord Inch had heard 
 in the Parliament House, and that Buncombe had heard 
 then too, as well as before at Bonville. 
 
 When Mr. Peters finished singing, the man in the chair 
 was silent for a moment, staring at him in horror, and Mr. 
 Peters spoke once more. 
 
 " I meant to talk to you," he said, with a glance at his 
 watch, " but it is time to start upon your travels. Besides, 
 I see that you understand my story, though how long you 
 may remember it I cannot tell " and taking one end of the 
 rope that was looped about Buncombe s neck, he looked 
 up at a beam above him. 
 
 An hour later Mr. Peters, who had carried something 
 out among the firs, came in from their whispering, tossing 
 blackness, leaving them to call to the sky, if they could, 
 M hat thing it was that lay in the ground at their feet, which 
 the snow was already covering again. 
 
 A few minutes later he locked the cottage door, and went 
 down the hillside to the Glencorse Reservoir, and there a 
 cab waited for him, the driver stamping up and down in 
 the snow. 
 
 " T am punctual," said Mr. Peters, and the man acknowl 
 edged that to be so, saying at the same time that it was 
 an awful night, and that he hoped Mr. Peters would re 
 member ii. 
 
 " I will, if you drive quickly," said Mr. Peters, and step 
 ping into the cab, he went silently away.
 
 THE MAX TX THE CHAIIi WAS SII.KNT KOI? A MOMENT
 
 A SONG, A JOURNEY, AND A VOYAGE 403 
 
 The snow still swirled in dancing clouds, confusing to 
 the eye, and confusing also, apparently, to the mind of Mr. 
 Peters. He scarcely knew whether he thought and saw, 
 or whether he dreamt, as he stared out upon the night, and 
 rolled down towards Edinburgh. 
 
 Sometimes he could have sworn that his mother, dark- 
 faced and solemn-eyed, looked in at the window and beck 
 oned to him, disappearing and reappearing in a twisted 
 eddy of snow-flakes. Sometimes it was Buncombe as he 
 had appeared before starting upon his last journey. 
 
 Over this journey, as he rolled along, Mr. Peters thought 
 with vague regrets. There were so many things that he 
 could have said, so many things that he could have told the 
 Carrion, to show what infinite pains had been taken, and 
 how, even if private vengeance had failed, the law would 
 have had him. The business had been concluded far too 
 quickly. A later boat from Leith would have suited Mr. 
 Peters equally well, yet he had been interrupted at his 
 business before, and he might have been again. Then, 
 too, he thought, with a grudging reluctance,, that ven 
 geance could not be called complete at all, since Melia s 
 friendliness had made him decide to leave her and Archie, 
 while Lord Inch had died in all the dignity of his office. 
 
 Still, it must do, and he thought that his mother s face 
 was not so frowning now, among the snow-clouds, as it had 
 been wlffle she lived, and taught him to live, with this thing 
 ever in mind. 
 
 So, first the fields and hedges, then the huddled houses 
 of the Edinburgh streets, slipped by, and at last Mr. Peters, 
 paying his cabman without any such dispute as had her 
 alded his arrival in Edinburgh, stood upon the edge of the 
 Leith docks. 
 
 No, that nearest boat was not his, he was told. 
 
 To-night she lay in the opposite berth, and he must 
 hurry round, for her bell was already ringing.
 
 404 MR. PETERS 
 
 Mr. Peters, a small portmanteau in his hand, hurried, as 
 lie was told. The snow drifted into his face and the wind 
 whistled about his ears, but the bell still rang, and Mr. 
 Peters still hurried. 
 
 Then, suddenly, the bell stopped, just as he reaehed a 
 corner. Mr. Peters, knowing the need for haste, pressed on 
 and took this corner sharply. Another five minutes, and 
 he would be out of this accursed place. These maddening 
 snow-flakes would dazzle him no more, with their whirling 
 fantasies of shrouds and faces. Was this the way or that, 
 where his mother stood and beckoned ? Now he was very 
 near. Were those the ship s ropes cast off, that he heard 
 splashing ? Mr. Peters opened his mouth to shout that he 
 was coming that they must wait another moment but no 
 man ever heard him. A ship s hawser, snow-covered, lay 
 in his path, and over this he tripped. The portmanteau 
 fell from his hand as he staggered on, clutching at the air, 
 and finding no firmer support. Another step, and his feet 
 had left solid ground, for Mr. Peters had gone head fore 
 most over the side into the dock. If that had been all, there 
 would have been little harm done. He had plunged into 
 ice-cold water before, as deep as this, of his own free will. 
 But, as he fell, the great black head struck heavily against 
 a projecting stone that stunned him, and the waters, as 
 silent as himself, closed over Mr. Peters. 
 
 That night the anxious Archie stood in the little sitting- 
 room of Melia s landlady, and listened to the verdict of 
 Maitland, whom he had fetched post-haste to see Melia. 
 
 " She ll do, laddie," Maitland told him, " you ll see her 
 up in a day or iwo. What s this I hear about a moonlight 
 ride, you rascal ? You must take more care of her. She s 
 a good lassie, in spite of her father, which should just re 
 mind us that we ve other ancestors besides father and 
 mother. I hope the rascal may have told the truth for
 
 A SONG, A JOURNEY, AND A VOYAGE 405 
 
 once, and have taken to his heels. She ll need a bit school 
 ing, Archie, but we ll be proud to show Mrs. Archie any 
 where yet." 
 
 At the House of Residence Mrs. Jimps went her rounds, 
 attended by the faithful Annie, and paused in the corridor 
 between two rooms. 
 
 " You can put fresh bedding into these rooms to-morrow, 
 Annie," she announced, " Captain Peters has had to go 
 upon another voyage, and I don t think there ll be room for 
 Mr. Eivers if he comes back from Glasgow." 
 
 That was all she said, and Annie, though she looked 
 hard, could discover nothing more by any expression in 
 Mrs. Jimps face. But Mrs. Jimps sat late that night 
 pretending to work at her accounts, and really thinking of 
 Mr. Peters. 
 
 In another part of the city Madge Murray thought of him 
 too, and made fresh plans to attract the attention of this 
 provokingly cold-blooded foreigner. It was well for her, 
 maybe, that Mr. Peters would cross her path no more, just 
 as it was well for Mrs. Jimps that she turned back resolutely 
 to her care of the House of Residence and her unflown 
 Paying Guests. 
 
 In the house of Lucius "Moriarty there was great excite 
 ment that night, Lucius having suddenly become aware 
 that his child was a woman, with a will of her own, and a 
 heart that she had given away. " Begor ! " said Lucius, 
 his fringe of hair in a state of wild disorder. " She s a 
 child, Tom Dunbar, an you re nothing more," and for 
 some time he was highly indignant at this juvenile lunacy. 
 
 But the two culprits pleaded together, and, being of one 
 mind, were too strong for him. 
 
 "I ll think about it,". said Lucius at last in his little 
 study, taking the pipe out of his mouth and trying to look 
 severe. " There s your examination first, Tom, anyway. 
 After that maybe it ll be all right. It s a fine thing to have
 
 BY S. E. KEIGHTLEY 
 
 THE LAST RECRUIT OF CLARE S. Being Passages from the 
 Memoirs of Anthony Dillon, Chevalier of St. Louis, and 
 Late Colonel of Clare s Regiment in the Service of France. 
 Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1 50. 
 
 This is a romance not of love, but of daring adventure, and so well 
 worked as to be profoundly interesting. Chicago Inter-Ocean. 
 
 Cleverly told, and enchain the reader s attention immediately, holding 
 him captive to the last page. Brooklyn Standard -Union. 
 
 A series of vivid pictures of the life of a soldier who was also a gentle 
 man. y. Y. Press. 
 
 THE CRIMSON SIGN. A Narrative of the Adventures of Mr. 
 Gcrvase Orme, sometime Lieutenant in Mountjoy s Regi 
 ment of Foot. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, 
 81 50. 
 
 Recounts in an able manner the terrible scenes which culminated in 
 the siege and relief of Londonderry, giving his readers a personal interest 
 in the characters he has created, and many and pathetic are the resulting 
 pictures. Mr. Keightley, with a few deft touches of his pen, brings them 
 home to the reader with a force that enables him to realize what such 
 warfare really means. The French soldier is a strange character, strik 
 ingly conceived. Literary World, London. 
 
 THE CAVALIERS. A Novel. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, 
 Ornamental, $1 50. 
 
 Full of adventure, incident, and the wild spirit of the age, yet written 
 withal in so true, simple, and vigorous a manner that it is the people of 
 the narrative as much as their doings and escapades that interest the 
 reader. Chicago Journal. 
 
 Compels immediate and enduring interest on the part of the reader. 
 From an artistic and literary point of view, indeed, the book is entirely 
 noteworthy. It has swing, verve, and genuine force. The interest is 
 cumulative, and the denouement of the story in no wise disappointing. 
 Philadelphia Bulletin. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK 
 
 Kf The above works are for sale by all book-sellers, or will be. sent by the, publisher?, 
 postage prepaid, on receipt of the price.
 
 A 000 094 800 o