eeming inquiries of
the hotel clerks.

"Has any luggage been brought here from the station by mistake, a dress-
basket and dressing-case, with the name Kestrel-Smith? It can't be
traced anywhere. I saw it put in at Victoria, that I'll swear. Why--there
is my luggage! and the locks have been tampered with!"

Jerton heard no more. He fled down to the Turkish bath, and stayed there
for hours.

THE STALLED OX

Theophil Eshley was an artist by profession, a cattle painter by force of
environment. It is not to be supposed that he lived on a ranche or a
dairy farm, in an atmosphere pervaded with horn and hoof, milking-stool,
and branding-iron. His home was in a park-like, villa-dotted district
that only just escaped the reproach of being suburban. On one side of
his garden there abutted a small, picturesque meadow, in which an
enterprising neighbour pastured some small picturesque cows of the
Channel Island persuasion. At noonday in summertime the cows stood knee-
deep in tall meadow-grass under the shade of a group of walnut trees,
with the sunlight falling in dappled patches on their mouse-sleek coats.
Eshley had conceived and executed a dainty picture of two reposeful milch-
cows in a setting of walnut tree and meadow-grass and filtered sunbeam,
and the Royal Academy had duly exposed the same on the walls of its
Summer Exhibition. The Royal Academy encourages orderly, methodical
habits in its children. Eshley had painted a successful and acceptable
picture of cattle drowsing picturesquely under walnut trees, and as he
had begun, so, of necessity, he went on. His "Noontide Peace," a study
of two dun cows under a walnut tree, was followed by "A Mid-day
Sanctuary," a study of a walnut tree, with two dun cows under it. In due
succession there came "Where the Gad-Flies Cease from Troubling," "The
Haven of the Herd," and "A-dream in Dairyland," studies of walnut trees
and dun cows. His two attempts to break away from his own tradition were
signal failures: "Turtle Doves alarmed by Sparrow-hawk" and "Wolves on
the Roman Campagna" came back to his studio in the guise of abominable
heresies, and Eshley climbed back into grace and the public gaze with "A
Shaded Nook where Drowsy Milkers Dream."

On a fine afternoon in late autumn he was putting some finishing touches
to a study of meadow weeds when his neighbour, Adela Pingsford, assailed
the outer door of his studio with loud peremptory knockings.

"There