came to Elizabeth
as she sat in the drawing-room after dinner, and said, with a little
paleness visible about his lips:--

"Can I speak to you for a few moments alone?"

She looked up, startled; then rose and led the way to an inner
drawing-room, where they would be undisturbed. She seated herself in the
chair, which, with unwonted ceremoniousness, he wheeled forward for her;
but he himself stood on the hearth-rug, twisting and untwisting the
paper in his hand, as if--extraordinary occurrence!--as if he were
actually nervous.

"I have a proposition to make to you," he said. He uttered his words
very rapidly, but made long pauses between some of the sentences. "You
say that Mr. Colquhoun is going to send out his clerk, Salt, to stop
Brian Luttrell when he lands at Pernambuco. I have just seen Mr.
Colquhoun, and he agrees with me that this proceeding is of very
doubtful utility.... Now, don't interrupt me, I beg. If I throw cold
water on this plan, it is only that I may suggest another which I think
better.... Salt is a mere clerk: we cannot tell him all the
circumstances, and the arguments that he will use will probably be such
as a man like Luttrell will despise. I mean that he will put it on the
ground of Luttrell's own interests--not Dino Vasari's, or--or yours....
What I propose is that someone should go who knows the story intimately,
who knows the relations of all the parties.... If you like to trust me,
I will do my best to bring Brian Luttrell home again."

"You!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "Oh, Percival, no."

"And why not? I assure you I will act carefully, and I am sure I shall
succeed. I have even persuaded Mr. Colquhoun of my good intentions--with
some difficulty, I confess. Here is a note from him to you. He read it
to me after writing it, and I know what he advises you to do."

Elizabeth read the note. It consisted only of these words: "If you can
make up your mind to let Mr. Percival Heron go in Salt's place, I think
it would be the better plan.--J. C."

"I'll be on my good behaviour, I promise you," said Percival, watching
her, with lightness of tone which was rather belied by the mournful
expression of his eyes. "I'll play no tricks, either with him or myself;
and bring him safely back to Scotland--on my honour, I will. Do you
distrust me so much, Elizabeth?"

"Oh, no, no. Would it not be painful to you? I thought--you did not like
Mr. Luttrell." She spoke with great hesitation.

Percival made a g