as it were taken that unwilling heart by storm, claiming
it as his right before he was out of his cradle. And later the attachment
between them had grown and thriven, for Piers had never relinquished the
ground he had won in babyhood. By sheer arrogance of possession he had
held his own till the impetuous ardour of his affection and the utter
fearlessness on which it was founded had made of him the cherished idol
of the heart which had tried to shut him out. Sir Beverley gloried in the
boy though he still flattered himself that no one suspected the fact, and
still believed that his rule was a rule of stern discipline under which
Piers might chafe but against which he would never openly revolt.

He could not remember a single occasion upon which he had not been able
to master Piers, possibly after a fierce struggle but always with
absolute completeness in the end. And there was so much of sweetness in
the youngster's nature that, unruly though he might be, he never nurtured
a grievance. He would fight for his own way to the last of his strength,
but when beaten he always yielded with a good grace. To his grandfather
alone he could submit without any visible wound to his pride. Who could
help glorying in a boy like that?

David the butler, a man of infinite respectability, came softly into the
hall and approached his master.

"Are you ready for dinner, Sir Beverley?"

"No," snapped Sir Beverley. "Can't you see Master Piers isn't here?"

"Very good, sir," murmured David, and retired decorously, fading into
the background without the faintest sound, while Caesar the Dalmatian
who had entered with him lay sedately down in well-bred silence at Sir
Beverley's feet.

There fell a pause, while Sir Beverley's eyes returned to the wide oak
staircase, watching it ceaselessly, with vulture-like intentness. Then
after the passage of minutes, there came the sound of feet that literally
scampered along the corridor above, and in a moment, with meteor-like
suddenness, Piers flashed into view.

He seemed to descend the stairs without touching them, and was greeted
at the foot by Caesar, who leapt to meet him with wide-mouthed delight.

"Hullo, you scamp, hullo!" laughed Piers, responding to the dog's
caresses with a careless hand. "Out of the way with you! I'm late."

"As usual," observed Sir Beverley, leaning slowly forward, still with his
eyes unblinkingly fixed upon his grandson's merry face. "Come here, boy!"

Piers came t