his hopes of ascending the throne of
England, he spoke without enthusiasm, and said one day:

"It is a pity that it cannot be managed without fuss and trouble.
I hate trouble."

"Nothing can be done worth doing, without trouble, Your Majesty,"
Desmond said sturdily. "It almost seems to me that, if everything
could be had without trouble, it would not be worth having."

"How do you mean, Mr. Kennedy?"

"I may illustrate it by saying, Sire, that no true fisherman would
care about angling in a pond, close to his house, and so full of
fish, that he had but to drop a baited hook into the water to
bring up one immediately. The pleasure of fishing consists largely
in the hard work that it demands. It is, perhaps, miles to a
stream across the hills, and a long day's work may produce but a
half dozen fish; but these the angler prizes in proportion to the
trouble he has had to get them. I think that, were I born heir to
a throne, I would rather that it should cost me hardship, toil,
and danger to obtain it, than walk into a cathedral, a few days
after my father's death, and there be crowned."

"I do not agree with you, at all," James said, shortly. "If
anything could not be had without toil, hardship, and danger, as
you say, I would willingly go without it."

"Then, Sire, I can only hope that the toil and danger may be borne
by your devoted followers, and that you may be spared them,
personally."

James looked sharply up at his companion, to gather whether the
words were spoken sarcastically, but Desmond's face, though
flushed, was calm and serious. Nevertheless, indolent as he was,
James felt that the words were a reproof; that, although he had at
first liked him, there was in reality little in common between him
and this energetic young fellow; and the next time he came, he
received him with much less cordiality than before; while Desmond,
who was beginning to tire of the companionship of one who lacked,
alike, the fun and humour, and the restless activity of his
comrades, Patrick and Phelim; and who saw that the professions of
James's friendship were but short lived, came over to Saint
Germain less frequently, until, at last, he only rode over with
his colonel, or when some duty called him there.

"So you have been a failure, Master Kennedy," the counsellor who
had first spoken to him said, one day, when the change in the
king's manner became evident to them all.

"I am afraid so, sir," Desmond replied with a smil