n that sublimest of
scenes; and so intense and magnificent were its phenomena, that Sir
Bale, for a while, was absorbed in this contemplation.

When he turned about, the sight of his L100 note, still between his
finger and thumb, made him smile grimly.

The more he thought of it, the clearer it was that he could not leave
matters exactly as they were. Well, what should he do? He would send for
Mrs. Julaper, and tell her vaguely that he had changed his mind about
Feltram, and that he might continue to stay at Mardykes Hall as usual.
That would suffice. She could speak to Feltram.

He sent for her; and soon, in the lulls of the great uproar without, he
could hear the jingle of Mrs. Julaper's keys and her light tread upon
the lobby.

"Mrs. Julaper," said the Baronet, in his dry careless way, "Feltram may
remain; your eloquence has prevailed. What have you been crying about?"
he asked, observing that his housekeeper's usually cheerful face was, in
her own phrase, 'all cried.'

"It is too late, sir; he's gone."

"And when did he go?" asked Sir Bale, a little put out. "He chose an odd
evening, didn't he? So like him!"

"He went about half an hour ago; and I'm very sorry, sir; it's a sore
sight to see the poor lad going from the place he was reared in, and a
hard thing, sir; and on such a night, above all."

"No one asked him to go to-night. Where is he gone to?"

"I don't know, I'm sure; he left my room, sir, when I was upstairs; and
Janet saw him pass the window not ten minutes after Mr. Creswell left
the house."

"Well, then, there's no good, Mrs. Julaper, in thinking more about it;
he has settled the matter his own way; and as he so ordains it--amen,
say I. Goodnight."

CHAPTER X

Adventure in Tom Marlin's Boat

Philip Feltram was liked very well--a gentle, kindly, and very timid
creature, and, before he became so heart-broken, a fellow who liked a
joke or a pleasant story, and could laugh heartily. Where will Sir Bale
find so unresisting and respectful a butt and retainer? and whom will he
bully now?

Something like remorse was worrying Sir Bale's heart a little; and the
more he thought on the strange visit of Hugh Creswell that night, with
its unexplained menace, the more uneasy he became.

The storm continued; and even to him there seemed something exaggerated
and inhuman in the severity of his expulsion on such a night. It was his
own doing, it was true; but would people believe that? and wo