y had a little
patience, the released prisoner would have looked round as soon as
his janitor was asleep. As it turned out, no sooner were the visitors'
voices audible than the Octopus became alive to the pleasures of
society, and renounced sleep in its favour. She would slip something
on and come down, and did so. Her doing so was out of keeping with the
leading idea of the performance, presenting the Paynim as an obliging
race; but a meek and suffering one, though it never aired its
grievances. These, however, were the chief subjects of conversation
during the visit, which, in spite of every failure in dramatic
propriety, was always spoken of in after days as "the Crusade." It
came to an end in due course, the Saracen host retiring to bed, with
benedictions.

* * * * *

Vereker walked back with our friends to Mrs. Lobjoit's through the
sweet night-air a considerate little shower of rain, that came down
while they were sympathetically engaged, had just washed clean.
Vapour-drifts that were wavering between earth and sky, and
sacrificing their birthright of either cloudship or foghood, were
accompanying a warm sea-wind towards the north. Out beyond, and quite
clear of all responsibility for them and theirs, was a flawless
heaven with the stellar and planetary universe in it, pitiless and
passionless eyes perhaps--as Tennyson calls them--and strange fires;
but in this case without power to burn and brand their nothingness
into the visitors to St. Sennans, who laughed and talked and smoked
and took no notice; and, indeed, rather than otherwise, considered
that Orion's Belt and Aldebaran had been put there to make it a fine
night for them to laugh and talk and smoke in.

It was pleasant to Vereker, after his walk with Fenwick in the
morning, to find the latter like his usual cheerful self again. The
doctor had had rather a trying time with his Goody mother, so that the
day had been more one of tension than of peace, and it was a heavenly
respite to him from filial duties dutifully borne, to walk home with
the goddess of his paradise--the paradise that was so soon to come to
an end and send him to the release of his "locum," Mr. Neckitt. Never
mind. The having such a time to look back to in the future was quite
as much as one general practitioner, with a duty to his mother, could
in reason expect. Was Dr. Conrad aware, we wonder, how much the
philosophical resignation that made this attitu