vitation.

'I must apologise for this intrusion, Captain Burnett,' began Cyril
quickly; 'but I wanted to speak to you particularly. Were you asleep? I
am so sorry if I have disturbed you.'

'No, nonsense. I only felt drowsy because I have been out in this cold
wind and the room is so warm. Take a chair, Blake. I shall be wide awake
in a moment. Have you seen the paper to-day? There is nothing in it,
only a remarkably stupid article on Bismarck.'

'I will look at it by and by; but to tell you the truth, I have come to
speak to you about my mother. I am seriously uneasy about her: either
she is ill, or there is something grievously wrong. I understood from
Mollie that you were with her for more than an hour yesterday; in fact,
that she sent for you.'

The fire had burnt hollow during Michael's brief nap, and he seized this
opportunity to stir it vigorously into a blaze; it afforded him a
momentary respite. A few seconds' reflection convinced him, however,
that it was no use beating about the bush with a man of Cyril's calibre.
The truth had to be told, and no amount of preparation would render it
palatable.

'You are right,' he returned quietly; 'Mrs. Blake sent for me. She
thought that I should be able to help her in a difficulty.'

Cyril looked intensely surprised. 'I thought Mollie must have made a
mistake. It seems very strange that my mother----'

He stopped as though civility did not permit him to finish his sentence.
But Michael perfectly understood him.

'It seems strange to you; of course it does. My acquaintance with Mrs.
Blake is so slight that it certainly gives me no right to her
confidence; but she was in trouble--in great trouble, I may say--and
chance threw me in her way, and so----'

But here Cyril interrupted him.

'My mother in trouble!' he returned incredulously, but Michael thought
he looked a little pale; 'excuse me, Captain Burnett, if I seem rude,
but from a boy I have been my mother's friend. She has never kept
anything from me. I find it almost impossible to believe that she would
give that confidence to a comparative stranger which she would refuse to
her son. May I beg you to speak plainly? I abhor mysteries.'

Cyril spoke impatiently and curtly; his tone was almost displeased. But
Michael took no offence; he regarded the young man very kindly.

'I abhor them too,' he replied gravely; 'but I want you to understand
one thing: it was a mere chance that brought me in Mrs. Blake's way