ur honour,
so. But might I ask that you weigh carefully the warning of Mr. Calhoun.
There's trouble at Trelawny. I have it from good sources, and Mr.
Calhoun has made preparations against the sure risings. I'd take heed
of what he says. He knows. Your honour, it is not my mistress in the
doorway, it is Mrs. Llyn; she is shorter than my mistress."

The governor shaded his brow with his hands. Then he touched up his
horse. "Yes, you are right, Boland. It is Mrs. Llyn. And look you,
Boland, I'll think over what you've said about the Maroons and Mr.
Calhoun. He's doing no harm as he is, that's sure. So why shouldn't he
go on as he is? That's your argument, isn't it?"

Boland nodded. "It's part of my argument, not all of it. Of course he's
doing no harm; he's doing good every day. He's got a stiff hand for the
shirker and the wanton, but he's a man that knows his mind, and that's a
good thing in Jamaica."

"Does he come here-ever?"

"He has been here only once since our arrival. There are reasons why he
does not come, as your honour kens, knowing the history of Erris Boyne."

A quarter of an hour later Darius Boland said to Sheila: "He's got an
order from England to keep Mr. Calhoun to his estate and to punish him,
if he infringes the order."

Sheila started. "He will infringe the order if it's made, Boland. But
the governor will be unwise to try and impose it. I will tell him so."

"But, mistress, he should not be told that this news comes from me."

"No, he should not, Boland. I can tempt him to speak of it, I think. He
hates Mr. Calhoun, and will not need much prompting."

Sheila had changed since she saw Dyck Calhoun last. Her face was
thinner, but her form was even fuller than it was when she had bade him
good-bye, as it seemed to him for ever, and as it at first seemed
to her. Through anxious days and nights she had fought with the old
passion; and at last it seemed the only way to escape from the torture
was by making all thought of him impossible. How could this be done?
Well, Lord Mallow would offer a way. Lord Mallow was a man of ancient
Irish family, was a governor, had ability, was distinguished-looking
in a curious lean way; and he had a real gift with his tongue. He stood
high in the opinion of the big folk at Westminster, and had a future. He
had a winning way with women--a subtle, perniciously attractive way with
her sex, and to herself he had been delicately persuasive. He had the
ancient gift of p