t, I fully expect to be
up and about this afternoon.

"Ever yours,

"GEO. MCGREGOR."

"Oh! so Carr is on his back and likely to remain there, is he? Very
likely, I expect; but I wonder what it means. I hope the colonel
hasn't been very drastic. However, everything seems right; in fact,
better than I hoped."

In this more cheerful frame of mind I arose, breakfasted at leisure,
and set out for the bank about eleven.

Of course, the first person I met in the street was one of the last I
wanted to meet, namely, Donna Antonia. She was on horseback, and her
horse looked as if he'd done some work. At the sight of me she reined
up, and I could not avoid stopping as I lifted my hat.

"Whence so early?" I asked.

"Early?" she said. "I don't call this early. I've been for a long
ride; in fact, I've ridden over to Mr. Carr's place, with a message
from papa; but he's not there. Do you know where he is, Mr. Martin?"

"Haven't an idea," said I.

"He hasn't been home for four nights," she continued, "and he hasn't
been to the Ministry either. It's very odd that he should disappear
like this, just when all the business is going on, too."

"What business, Donna Antonia?" I asked blandly.

She colored, recollecting, no doubt that the business was still a
secret.

"Oh, well! you know they're always busy at the Ministry of Finance at
this time. It's the time they pay everybody, isn't it?"

"It's the time they ought to pay everybody," I said.

"Well," she went on, without noticing my correction, "at any rate,
papa and the President are both very much vexed with him; so I offered
to make my ride in his direction."

"Where can he be?" I asked again.

"Well," she replied, "I believe he's at Colonel McGregor's, and after
lunch I shall go over there. I know he dined there on Monday, and I
dare say he stayed on."

"No," thought I, "you mustn't do that, it might be inconvenient." So I
said:

"I know he's not there; I heard from McGregor this morning, and he
says Carr left him on Tuesday. Why, how stupid I am! The colonel says
Carr told him he was going off for a couple of days' sail in his
yacht. I expect he's got contrary winds, and can't get back again."

"It's very bad of him to go," she said, "but no doubt that's it. Papa
will be angry, but he'll be glad to know no harm has come to him."

"Happy to have relieved your mind," said I, and bade her farewell,
thanking my stars for a lucky inspiration, and wondering w