ng me up and down.

"I think," I answered, "it will be enough for you that I come from
Nanscarne. You were late there. Oh, yes," I went on sharply, for
fellows of this class have a knack of irritating me, "and I have a
message for your master which I'll trouble you to deliver when he
comes down to breakfast. You will tell him, if you please, that Sir
Harry was expecting him last night, and the lights he saw lit in the
long gallery were there for his reception. You won't forget?"

"Who sent you here?" the fellow asked.

"On second thoughts," I continued, "you had better go in and wake
Captain Fitzroy Pilkington up at once. He will pardon you when he
has my message, for Sir Harry's temper is notoriously impatient."

And with that I turned and left him, for it was high time to find
out how Jimmy had been faring. The past night's experience must
have given him a shock, and I reckoned to give him another.
I wasn't disappointed either. I walked leisurably down the village
street, then crossed the hedge and doubled back on the high moors.
At length, drawing near the old gravel-pit, where we had fixed to
meet in case of separation, I dropped on all-fours and so came up to
the edge and gave a whistle.

Jimmy was sitting with his back to me, and about to cut a hunch of
bread to eat with his cold bacon for breakfast. Instead, he cut his
thumb, and jumped up, singing out--

"S'help me, but I never looked to see you again outside o' the dock!"

"No more you did," said I; and climbing down and sitting on a
gravel-heap beside him, I told him all the story.

"And now, Jimmy," I wound up, "you must guess what I'm going to do."

"I don't need to," said he. "I know."

"I wager you don't."

"I wager I do."

"Well, then, I'm going back. Was that what you guessed?"

"I think you will not."

"Ah, but I will," said I. "I swore by the blood of a Fitzroy
Pilkington I'd be back in the morning, and I can't retreat from so
tremendous an oath as that. Back I mean to go. As for the real
Captain--if Captain he is--I fancy I've scared him out of this
neighbourhood for some time to come. And as for the credentials, I
fancy, at my time of life, I should be able to write my own
commendation. I believe the old boy has a sneaking good-will towards
me. I can't answer for the girl; but I can answer that she'll hold
her tongue for a while, at all events. This life doesn't become a
man of my education and natural ability. And