a courier's saddle."

CHAPTER XI. HOW GROG DAVIS DISCOURSED, AND ANNESLEY BEECHER LISTENED

When Davis reached the little inn at evening, he was surprised to learn
that Annesley Beecher had passed the day alone. Lizzy complained of
headache, and kept her room. Grog listened to this with a grave, almost
stern look; he partly guessed that the ailment was a mere pretext; he
knew better to what to attribute her absence. They dined tete-a-tete;
but there was a constraint over each, and there was little of that
festive enjoyment that graced the table on the day before. Beecher was
revolving in his mind all the confessions that burdened his conscience
about Stein and the mystical volume he had bought from him; the large
sums he had drawn for were also grievous loads upon his heart, and he
knew not in what temper or spirit Davis would hear of them. Grog, too,
had many things in his head; not, indeed, that he meant to reveal them,
but they were like secret instructions to his own heart, to be referred
to for guidance and direction.

They sipped their wine under the trellised vines, and smoked their
cigars in an atmosphere fragrant with the jessamine and the rose, the
crystal river eddying along at their feet, and the purple mountain
glowing in the last tints of declining day. "We want Lizzy to enliven
us," said Davis, after a long silence on both sides. "We 're dull and
heavy without her."

"By Jove! it does make a precious difference whether she's here or not,"
said Beecher, earnestly.

"There's a light-heartedness about that girl does one good," said Davis,
as he puffed his cigar. "And she's no fool, either."

"I should think she's not," muttered Beecher, half indignantly.

"It could n't be supposed she should know life like you or me, for
instance; she hasn't seen the thing,--never mixed with it; but let
the time come that she shall take her part in the comedy, you 'll see
whether she 'll not act it cleverly."

"She has head for anything!" chimed in Beecher.

"Ay, and what they call tact too. I don't care what company you place
her in; take her among your duchesses to-morrow, and see if she'll not
keep her own place,--and that a good one."

Beecher sighed, but it was not in any despondency.

And now a long silence ensued; not a sound heard save the light noise of
the bottle as it passed between them, and the long-drawn puffs of smoke
that issued from their lips.

"What did you do with Stein? Did he give yo