had obviously brought
with him in order to examine the papers by its light, and then strode in
the wake of Sir Marmaduke.

The breeze was getting a bother hold on the mist, and was tossing it
about from sea to cliff and upwards with more persistence and more
vigor.

The pale, cold moon glistened visibly on the moist atmosphere, and far
below and far beyond weird streaks of shimmering silver edged the
surface of the sea. The breeze itself had scarcely stirred the water;
or,--the soft sound of tiny billows lapping the outstanding boulders was
wafted upwards as the tide drew in.

The two men had reached the edge of the cliff. With a slight laugh,
indicative of nervousness, Sir Marmaduke had quickly stepped back a
pace or two.

"I have brought the proofs," he said, as if wishing to conciliate a
dangerous enemy, "we need not stand so near the edge, need we?"

But Adam Lambert shrugged his shoulders in token of contempt at the
other's cowardice.

"I'll not harm thee," he said, "an thou hast not lied to me...."

He deposited his lantern by the side of a heap of white chalk, which
had, no doubt, been collected at some time or other by idle or childish
hands, and stood close to the edge of the cliff. Sir Marmaduke now took
his stand beside it, one foot placed higher than the other. Close to him
Adam in a frenzy of restlessness had thrown himself down on the heap;
below them a drop of ninety feet to the seaweed covered beach.

"Let me see the papers," quoth Adam impatiently.

"Gently, gently, kind sir," said de Chavasse lightly. "Did you think
that you could dictate your own terms quite so easily?"

"What dost thou mean?" queried the other.

"I mean that I am about to place in your hands the proof that you are
heir to a title and fifteen thousand pounds a year, but at the same time
I wish to assure myself that you will be pleasant over certain matters
which concern me."

"Have I not said that I would hold my tongue."

"Of a truth you did say so my friend, and therefore, I am convinced
that you will not refuse to give me a written promise to that effect."

"I cannot write," said Adam moodily.

"Oh! just your signature!" said de Chavasse pleasantly. "You can write
your name?"

"Not well."

"The initials A. and L. They would satisfy me,"

"Why dost thou want written promises," objected the smith, looking up
with sullen wrath at Sir Marmaduke. "Is not the word of an honest man
sufficient for thee?"

"Quite s