the chill air from the waters of the fiord,
Michael Sunlocks sat at work in the room that served him for office
and study. His cheeks were pale, his eyes were heavy, and his whole
countenance was haggard. But there was a quiet strength in his slow
glance and languid step that seemed to say that in spite of the tired
look of age about his young face and lissome figure he was a man of
immense energy, power of mind and purpose.

His man Oscar was bustling in and out of the room on many errands.
Oscar was a curly-headed youth of twenty, with a happy upward turn of
the corners of the mouth, and little twinkling eyes full of a bright
fire.

The lad knew that there was something amiss with his master by some
queer twist of nature that gave a fillip to his natural cheerfulness.

Michael Sunlocks would send Oscar across the arg to the house of the
Speaker, and at the next moment forget that he had done so, touch the
bell, walk over to the stove, stir the fire, and when the door opened
behind him deliver his order a second time without turning round. It
would be the maid who had answered the bell, and she would say, "If
you please, your Excellency, Oscar has gone out. You sent him across
to the Speaker." And then Michael Sunlocks would bethink himself and
say, "True, true; you are quite right."

He would write his letters twice, and sometimes fold them without
sealing them; he would read a letter again and again and not grasp
its contents. His coffee and toast that had been brought in on a tray
lay untouched until both were cold, though they had been set to stand
on the top of the stove. He would drop his pen to look vacantly out
at the window, and cross the room without an object, and stand
abruptly and seem to listen.

The twinkling eyes of young Oscar saw something of this, and when
the little English maid stopped the lad in the long passage and
questioned him of his master's doings, he said with a mighty knowing
smirk that the President was showing no more sense and feeling and
gumption that morning than a tortoise within its shell.

Towards noon the Fairbrothers asked for Michael Sunlocks, and were
shown into his room. They entered with many bows and scrapes, and
much stroking of their forelocks. Michael Sunlocks received them
gravely, with an inclination of the head, but no words.

"We make so bold as to come to see you again," said Jacob, "for we've
got lands at us lying fallow--the lot of us, bar myself, maybe--an