I dare say I could put them
up to some dodges. I am a judge of 'composition.'"

"Composition? The devil you are! Ah, you mean that infernal compound
which they cover ships' bottoms with? What an atrocious pun!" The
man looked puzzled. "Bullen, R.A., great at composition; it sounds
well," continued Lightmark gaily, just touching in the brown sail of
a barge.

"I've a nephew in the Royal Artillery, sir," said Mr. Bullen; "but I
fear he is a bad lot."

"Oh, they all are!" said Lightmark, "an abandoned crew."

His eyes wandered off to the bridge over which the road ran,
dividing the dry dock from the outer basin and wharf on which they
stood. A bevy of factory girls in extensive hats stuck with
brilliant Whitechapel feathers were passing; one of them, who was
pretty, caught Lightmark's eyes and flung him a saucy compliment,
which he returned with light badinage in kind that made the foreman
grin.

"They know a fine man when they see one, as well as my lady," he
said. Then he added, as if by an afterthought, lowering his voice a
little: "By the way, Mr. Lightmark, there was a young lady--a young
person here yesterday--making inquiries."

Lightmark bent down, frowning a little at a fly which had entangled
itself on his palette.

"Yes?" he remarked tentatively, when the offender had been removed.

"It was a young lady come after someone, who, she said, had been
here lately: a Mr. Dighton or Crichton was the name, I think. It was
the dockman she asked."

"Nobody comes here of that name that I know of," said Lightmark.

"Not to my knowledge," said Bullen.

"Curious!" remarked Lightmark gravely.

"Very, sir!" said Bullen, with equal gravity.

Lightmark looked up abruptly: the two men's eyes met, and they both
laughed, the artist a little nervously.

"What did you tell her, Bullen?"

"No such person known here, sir. I sent her away as wise as she
came. I hold with minding my own business, and asking no questions."

"An excellent maxim, Bullen!" said Lightmark, preparing to pack up
his easel. "I have long believed you to be a man of discretion.
Well, I must even be moving."

"You know the governor is back, sir?"

Lightmark dropped the paint-brush he was cleaning, with a movement
of genuine surprise.

"I never knew it," he said; "I will run up and have a yarn with him.
I thought he wasn't expected till to-morrow at the earliest?"

"Nor he was, Mr. Lightmark. But he travelled right through from
Italy, and