late, see Mr. Keith and
give him my compliments, and ask him if he can possibly take this letter
if the mails are not made up. It is of great importance. Quick, now!"

He watched the man go clattering down the cactus avenue until he was out
of sight. Then he turned, put the letters in his pocket, went in-doors,
and again struck a small gong that did duty for a bell. He wanted his
horse brought round at once. He was going over to Pleasant Farm:
probably he would not return that night. He lit another cigar, and paced
up and down the gravel in front of the house until the horse was brought
round.

When he reached Pleasant Farm the stars were shining overhead, and the
odors of the night-flowers came floating out of the forest, but inside
the house there were brilliant lights and the voices of men talking. A
bachelor supper-party was going forward. Mr. Roscorla entered, and
presently was seated at the hospitable board. They had never seen him so
gay, and they had certainly never seen him so generously inclined, for
Mr. Roscorla was economical in his habits. He would have them all to
dinner the next evening, and promised them such champagne as had never
been sent to Kingston before. He passed round his best cigars, he hinted
something about unlimited loo, he drank pretty freely, and was
altogether in a jovial humor.

"England!" he said, when some one mentioned the mother-country. "Of one
thing I am pretty certain: England will never see me again. No, a man
lives here: in England he waits for his death. What life I have got
before me I shall live in Jamaica: that is my view of the question."

"Then she is coming out to you?" said his host with a grin.

Roscorla's face flushed with anger. "There is no _she_ in the matter,"
he said abruptly, almost fiercely. "I thank God I am not tied to any
woman!"

"Oh, I beg your pardon," said his host good-naturedly, who did not care
to recall the occasions on which Mr. Roscorla had been rather pleased to
admit that certain tender ties bound him to his native land.

"No, there is not," he said. "What fool would have his comfort and peace
of mind depend on the caprice of a woman? I like your plan better,
Rogers: when they're dependent on you, you can do as you like, but when
they've got to be treated as equals, they're the devil. No, my boys, you
don't find me going in for the angel in the house--she's too exacting.
Is it to be unlimited?"

Now to play unlimited loo in a reckless fa