," said Hogan, humouring him.

"How think you would they welcome the story of the roystering rake and
debauchee who deserted the army of King Charles because they were about
to hang him for murder?"

"Ah! how, indeed?" sighed Hogan.

"What manner of reputation, think you, that for a captain of the godly
army of the Commonwealth?"

"A vile one, truly," murmured Hogan with humility.

"And now, Mr. Hogan," he wound up loftily, "you had best return me that
package, and be rid of me before I sow mischief enough to bring you a
crop of hemp."

Hogan stared at the lad's flushed face with a look of whimsical
astonishment, and for a brief spell there was silence between them.
Slowly then, with his eyes still fixed upon Kenneth's, the captain
unsheathed a dagger. The boy drew back, with a sudden cry of alarm.
Hogan vented a horse-laugh, and ran the blade under the seal of
Ashburn's letter.

"Be not afraid, my man of threats," he said pleasantly. "I have no
thought of hurting you--leastways, not yet." He paused in the act of
breaking the seal. "Lest you should treasure uncomfortable delusions,
dear Master Stewart, let me remind you that I am an Irishman--not a
fool. Do you conceive my fame to be so narrow a thing that when I left
the beggarly army of King Charles for that of the Commonwealth, I did
not realize how at any moment I might come face to face with someone who
had heard of my old exploits, and would denounce me? You do not find me
masquerading under an assumed name. I am here, sir, as Harry Hogan, a
sometime dissolute follower of the Egyptian Pharaoh, Charles Stuart;
an erstwhile besotted, blinded soldier in the army of the Amalekite,
a whilom erring malignant, but converted by a crowning mercy into
a zealous, faithful servant of Israel. There were vouchsafings and
upliftings, and the devil knows what else, when this stray lamb was
gathered to the fold."

He uttered the words with a nasal intonation, and a whimsical look at
Kenneth.

"Now, Mr. Stewart, tell them what you will, and they will tell you yet
more in return, to show you how signally the light of grace hath been
shed over me."

He laughed again, and broke the seal. Kenneth, crestfallen and abashed,
watched him, without attempting further interference. Of what avail?

"You had been better advised, young sir, had you been less hasty and
anxious. It is a fatal fault of youth's, and one of which nothing but
time--if, indeed, you live--will cure you. Y