ep into
the sea."

"I don't want to hear of all that, Enrico," said Isabel, slipping her
hand into her husband's. "I don't care for waving trees, old ruins, and
rivers--at least not here."

"Well, I don't think Sir Roger Mostyn did either at that moment, for his
face was clouded with care.

"`And so, Griffith,' he said to a man who was standing near the door,
`that was all you learned?'

"`It was, Sir Roger; but not all I saw. Susan was as close as a miser
with his gold, and though I slept in an out-house and only returned half
an hour since, she would tell me nothing.'

"`And you say great preparations were on foot for the reception of
guests?'

"`Messengers were coming and going, Sir Roger, the whole night long; the
butchers were busy slaughtering; all was bustle and excitement.'

"Thou art a poor lover, Griffith, if this is all thou couldst obtain.

"`About twelve o'clock, Sir Roger,' continued the fellow, reddening, `I
heard the tramp of men, and looking out, I saw a company of about fifty.
They appeared to obey a word of command, were dressed in grey frieze,
and armed. The windows of the chapel were a blaze of light. I learned
that they were Irish from the Isle of Man.'

"`Very well, Griffith; send the steward here;' and Sir Roger leaned on
the sill of the latticed window in deep thought. The children called to
him in their play, but he did not see them; the birds sang and the
leaves rustled, but he did not hear them.

"There you are, Enrico, with your birds and trees again, and we on the
broad ocean, with the sea below us, and the blue sky overhead.

"Yes, but there is love in both cases. As to who is in love on board
the raft, you know as well as I do," and the speaker bent over the form
nestled on his bosom, and kissed the fair forehead.

There was a moment's silence, and one of the apparently sleeping men
lifted his head, glanced around, and then, as Hughes continued his tale,
dropped again on the deck, uttering a heavy curse.

"Father Guy had brought over a strong body of the Catholic peasantry
from Ireland, the cutter which landed them lying in a snug little bay
near the farm. It is such a beautiful spot that bay, Isabel, formed by
the hills dying away into the sea, and the rugged sides of the Little
Orme."

"Now, Enrico, I won't have it. Tell me of anything except rocks, trees,
and birds," murmured Isabel.

"Well, night had set in. The stars were gleaming round the twisted
gables