alk," said Eloise, stepping down before any one could arrest
her. "We were all too much crowded. Come with me, Will,--if only, Mr.
St. George, you will take the reins yourself and spare Ned to us?"

"No," said Mr. St. George, perhaps knowing from old experience that it
would be useless to oppose Eloise, and having no time to lose. "Keep
your place, Will; do you hear? The horses are best used to the customary
driver. That makes it all right."

"Certainly, St. George, this should be my duty!" exclaimed Marlboro'.

But, as he sprang up, Mr. St. George's arm barred the way.

"You have quite enough to do to take care of yourself, Marlboro'!" said
he, thrusting his revolver into the other's hand. "Drive on, Ned. Only
keep us in sight."

"Mas'r Sin George, Sah," said the stolid Ned, "you are safe enough.
Expect, 'f you want _him_ safe," with supreme contempt, "I'd better get
de go out o' dese yer critters wile dey feel der oats!"

"Wretched insolence!" murmured Marlboro', still incensed. And in a few
minutes the coach had disappeared round the winding way.

"So much for Marlboro's theories!" burst forth St. George, in a moment.
"A man's works follow him. Sowing the wind and reaping the whirlwind is
too much of a good thing. He has been away so long and so often, there
has been such mismanagement under a long minority, such changes and such
misrule, such a hard hand and such a high hand, that the whole place is
a fester. How dares he prowl round the country so after nightfall? I
wouldn't give a pin for his life this moment, if it weren't for that
white defiance of his that would back him against a whole Ashantee
tribe! If he were the coward that I am, he'd be a better master; but
he's what the poor trash call a damned aristocrat,--which means an
aristocrat past salvation, I take it."

Eloise laughed to hear the words from Mr. St. George's autocratic lips.
"It is very odd," said she, "that so formidable an aristocracy must
needs underlie so powerful a democracy!"

The night was clear and deep; great shadows floated down from the
heavens, as if of beings travelling on the winds: one of those perfect
seasons when the powers of the dark seem to be surprised at their work,
although low in the horizon behind lay a glimmer, as if the hour were
soon to bring forth its marvel,--a glimmer which made the whole more
weird, and hung the very spirit of summer nights about them as they
walked.

"What should you have thought of your