ht, would you accept of a life interest in the
property to avoid all litigation, and secure a handsome income for your
own time?"

"You put the case too vaguely. First of all, a mere threat would not
drive me to a compromise."

"Well, call it more than a threat; say that actual proceedings had been
taken,--not that I believe they have; but just say so."

"The matter is too complicated for my mere Yes or No to meet it; but
on the simple question of whether I should compromise a case of that
nature, I'd say No. I'd not surrender my right if I had one, and I 'd
not retain possession of that which did n't belong to me."

"Which means, that you 'd reject the offer of a life interest?"

"Yes, on the terms you mention."

"I believe you 're right. Put the bold face on, and stand the battle.
Now the real case is this. My brother Lack-ington has just been served
with notice--"

Just as Beecher had uttered the last word, his arm, which rested on the
binnacle against which he was standing, was grasped with such force that
he almost cried out with the pain, and at the same instant a muttered
curse fell upon his ear.

"Go on," said Conway, as he waited to hear more.

Beecher muttered some unintelligible words about feeling suddenly
chilled, and "wanting a little brandy," and disappeared down the stairs
to the cabin.

"I heard you," cried Davis, as soon as the other entered,--"I heard you!
and if I hadn't heard you with my own ears, I 'd not have believed it!
Have n't I warned you, not once but fifty times, against that confounded
peaching tongue of yours? Have n't I told you that if every act of your
life was as pure and honest as you know it is not, your own stupid talk
would make an indictment against you? You meet a fellow on the deck of a
steamer--"

"Stop there!" cried Beecher, whose temper was sorely tried by this
attack. "The gentleman I talked with is an old acquaintance; he knows
me,--ay, and what's more, he knows _you!_"

"Many a man knows _me_, and does not feel himself much the better for
his knowledge!" said Davis, boldly.

"Well, I believe our friend here would n't say he was the exception to
that rule," said Beecher, with an ironical laugh.

"Who is he?--what's his name?"

"His name is Conway; he was a lieutenant in the 12th Lancers, but you
will remember him better as the owner of Sir Aubrey."

"I remember him perfectly," replied Davis, with all his own
composure,--"I remember him perfectly,--a ta