is in
London--and, mind! not on a political errand. I hope, before long, to
hear that he is going to be married--if the strangest and nicest girl
in England will have him. What's wrong now?"

Dennis explained. "I only wished to say, sir, that I was thinking of
your other nephew."

Sir Giles laughed. "Arthur in danger!" he exclaimed. "As harmless a
young man as ever lived. The worst one can say of him is that he is
throwing away his money--farming in Kerry."

"Excuse me, Sir Giles; there's not much chance of his throwing away his
money, where he is now. Nobody will venture to take his money. I met
with one of Mr. Arthur's neighbours at the market yesterday. Your
nephew is boycotted."

"So much the better," the obstinate banker declared. "He will be cured
of his craze for farming; and he will come back to the place I am
keeping for him in the office."

"God grant it!" the clerk said fervently.

For the moment, Sir Giles was staggered. "Have you heard something that
you haven't told me yet?" he asked.

"No, sir. I am only bearing in mind something which--with all
respect--I think you have forgotten. The last tenant on that bit of
land in Kerry refused to pay his rent. Mr. Arthur has taken what they
call an evicted farm. It's my firm belief," said the head clerk, rising
and speaking earnestly, "that the person who has addressed those
letters to you knows Mr. Arthur, and knows he is in danger--and is
trying to save your nephew (by means of your influence), at the risk of
his own life."

Sir Giles shook his head. "I call that a far-fetched interpretation,
Dennis. If what you say is true, why didn't the writer of those
anonymous letters address himself to Arthur, instead of to me?"

"I gave it as my opinion just now, sir, that the writer of the letter
knew Mr. Arthur."

"So you did. And what of that?"

Dennis stood to his guns.

"Anybody who is acquainted with Mr. Arthur," he persisted, "knows that
(with all sorts of good qualities) the young gentleman is headstrong
and rash. If a friend told him he was in danger on the farm, that would
be enough of itself to make him stop where he is, and brave it out.
Whereas you, sir, are known to be cautious and careful, and farseeing
and discreet." He might have added: And cowardly and obstinate, and
narrow-minded and inflated by stupid self-esteem. But respect for his
employer had blindfolded the clerk's observation for many a long year
past. If one man may be born with