her voice sounded a little husky, "that it
was my wish that you should go, for I did not desire that any one but I
should be compromised."

"Thank you, Lady Royland," said the secretary, quietly; and as he spoke,
Roy felt his dislike to the man increasing moment by moment up to a
certain point. "And, of course," he said, "I must require money for
travelling and to make my way back to London."

"That you shall be properly supplied with, of course, Master Pawson."

"Thank you again, Lady Royland," he said, as he went on calmly with his
breakfast; "it is very good of you, and when I require it, I will ask."

"Better that it should be done at once, sir," Lady Royland said, firmly,
"and that you should go."

"And leave you and Master Roy here to your fate!"

"We can protect ourselves, sir."

"You must forgive me for being so slow over my breakfast, Master Roy,"
said the secretary, smiling in the lad's disgust-filled face. "I see
you are impatient to go, but I am talking so much."

"Oh, eat a good breakfast," said Roy, now he was thus appealed to, "for
the last--"

"Oh, no! not by a great many," said Master Pawson, smiling. "I like the
dear old castle far too well, and I hope to have many a long year of
happy days in it. It is very good of you, Lady Royland; but I hope I
can do my duty to Sir Granby like a man. You judge me by what I said at
the beginning of these preparations. I thought then that I was right.
I did not believe we should be interfered with here; but I see now that
I was wrong, and I am ready to help you heart and soul. Do you think I
could go away at a time like this? Why, I should never forgive myself--
never. It is impossible, Lady Royland; now isn't it, Roy? I'm not a
fighting man; nature never meant me for anything but music and books,
but I'm not such a contemptible coward as all that. When the enemy
comes and begins firing, I may be induced to go somewhere that I think
_is_ safe; but go away? No, I could never hold up my head again."

"Master Pawson," cried Roy, excitedly, springing from his seat, "do you
mean this?"

"Mean it, Roy?" said the secretary. "Why, of course. I promised Sir
Granby to do my duty by his dame and his son, and according to the best
of my powers. I'm going to do it, and--Well, that's a very nice raised
pie."

"Here, I want to beg your pardon, Master Pawson, for all kinds of
unpleasant thoughts about you," cried Roy, going round to the secretary
and ho