delivery the instant his Excellency
assaults by land and sea, but at present it is utterly hopeless, Mr.
Cunningham executing the laws with terrible rigor, and double guards
patrolling the common. As for those wretched patriots aboard the
"_Hell_" and on those hulks--the _Falconer_, _Good Hope_, and
_Scorpion_--which lie southeast of the _Jersey_, there can be no
delivery save through compassion of that Dark Jailer who one day
shall free us all.

I dropped my pen, listening intently. Close to my door the garret
stairs creaked, ever so lightly; and I bent forward across the table,
gathering my papers, on which the ink lay still wet.

Listening, I heard nothing more. Perhaps the great heat was warping the
new stairway, which led past my door, up through the attic, and out to
the railed cupola upon the roof.

I glanced at my journal; there was nothing more to add, and so, sanding
the sheets, I laid them back behind the swinging panel which I myself
had fashioned so cunningly that none might suspect a cupboard in the
simple wainscot. Then to wash hands and face in fresh water, and put on
my coat without the waistcoat, prepared to take the air on the cupola,
where it should soon blow cool from the bay.

Slipping lock and bolt, I paused, hand on the knob, to glance back
around the room--a habit formed of caution. Then, satisfied, I opened
the door and left it standing wide so that the room might air. As I
ascended the attic stairs a little fresh puff of wind cooled me.
Doubtless a servant had opened the flaps to the cupola, for they were
laid back; and as I mounted, I could see a square of blue sky overhead.

I had taken my pipe, and paused on the stairs to light it; then,
pouching flint and tinder-box, I emerged upon the roof, to find myself
face to face with a young girl I had never before seen--the Hon. Miss
Grey, no doubt--and very dainty in her powder and one coquette patch
that emphasized the slow color tinting a skin of snow.

My bow, I think, covered my vexation--I being all unpowdered and
wearing no waistcoat over an unfrilled shirt, for I do love fine
clothes when circumstances require; but the lady was none the less
punctilious, and as I made to toss my pipe into the street below, she
forbade me with perfect courtesy and a smile that only accented her
youthful self-possession.

"Mr. Renault need neither retire nor sacrifice his pleasure," she said.
"I have missed Sir Frederick's