we were going for a slow walk," she said.

"I can't walk very far, either."

"A short, slow walk."

"And supposing," continued the theorist in sepulchral tones, with his
hands still behind his back, "supposing some fellow came along
and--well, and said 'Yah! Boo!' to you--or--or something like that.
Cecily--would you despise me if I couldn't--er--run after him and kick
him?"

Cecily turned swiftly. "Yah! Boo!" she ejaculated. "_Yah_! _Boo_!
Oh, Tony, how thrilling! I'd say 'Pip! Pip!'"

She, too, had her hands behind her, and stood with her head a little on
one side regarding him. Her face was in shadow, and he saw none of the
tender mirth in her eyes. "Would you let me say 'Pip! Pip!' to a
perfect stranger, Tony?--and me walking-out with you!"

"_Let_ you!" he said with a sort of laugh like a gasp and stepped
towards her.

For an instant Fear peeped out of the two windows of her soul, and she
swiftly raised her hands as if to fend off the inevitable. But the
King's Messenger was swifter still and had them imprisoned, crumpled in
his somewhere between their galloping hearts.

"My dear," he said, "my dear, I love you!"

Her head dropped back in the shelter of his arm, and she searched his
face with eyes like a Madonna on the Judgment Seat.

"I know," she said softly, and surrendered lips and soul as a child
gives itself to Sleep.

Through the closed door came the muffled sound of voices in the hall.
Uncle Bill was talking in tones that were, for him, unusually loud.
Someone fumbling at the handle of the door appeared to be experiencing
some difficulty in opening it.

Cecily, released, turned to the window like a white flash and buried
her hot face among the roses. The King's Messenger remained where he
stood, motionless.

Slowly the door opened, letting in the murmur of voices. Uncle Bill
had his hand on the knob and stood with his shoulder turned to the
interior of the room, apparently listening to something one of his
guests was saying.

In the lighted hall beyond, d'Auvergne caught a glimpse of Naval
uniforms and white shirt-fronts.

"... It ought to go a little way towards 'confounding their knavish
tricks,'" a man's deep voice was saying.

"Yes," said Sir William. He turned as he spoke and took in the
occupants of the room with a swift, keen glance. "'And to guide our
feet into the way of peace!'"

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LONG TRICK***

******* This fi