ring his name, Duprez looked up from that portion of Mr. Dyceworthy's
form in which he had been burrowing, and smiled radiantly.

"Ah, _cher_ Lorimer! Put your knee here, will you? So! that is well--I
will rest myself!" And he rose, smoothing his roughened hair with both
hands, while Lorimer in obedience to his request, kept one knee
artistically pressed on the recumbent figure of the minister. "Ah! and
there is our Phil-eep, and Sandy, and Monsieur Gueldmar! But I do not
think," here he beamed all over, "there is much more to be done! He is
one bruise, I assure you! He will not preach for many Sundays;--it is
bad to be so fat--he will be so exceedingly suffering!"

Errington could not forbear smiling at Pierre's equanimity. "But what
has happened?" he asked. "Is Thelma here?"

"She _was_ here," answered Duprez. "The religious had decoyed her here
by means of some false writing,--supposed to be from you. He kept her
locked up here the whole afternoon. When I came he was making love and
frightening her,--I am pleased I was in time. But"--and he smiled
again--"he is well beaten!"

Sir Philip strode up to the fallen Dyceworthy, his face darkening with
wrath.

"Let him go, Lorimer," he said sternly. Then, as the reverend gentleman
slowly struggled to his feet, moaning with pain, he demanded, "What have
you to say for yourself, sir? Be thankful if I do not give you the
horse-whipping you deserve, you scoundrel!"

"Let me get at him!" vociferated Gueldmar at this juncture, struggling to
free himself from the close grasp of the prudent Macfarlane. "I have
longed for such a chance! Let me get at him!"

But Lorimer assisted to restrain him from springing forward,--and the
old man chafed and swore by his gods in vain.

Mr. Dyceworthy meanwhile meekly raised his eyes, and folded his hands
with a sort of pious resignation.

"I have been set upon and cruelly abused," he said mournfully, "and
there is no part of me without ache and soreness!" He sighed deeply.
"But I am punished rightly for yielding unto carnal temptation, put
before me in the form of the maiden who came hither unto me with
delusive entrancements--"

He stopped, shrinking back in alarm from the suddenly raised fist of the
young baronet.

"You'd better be careful!" remarked Philip coolly, with dangerously
flashing eyes; "there are four of us here, remember!"

Mr. Dyceworthy coughed, and resumed an air of outraged dignity.

"Truly, I am aware of it!" he