ee nor hear
about outside o' the Bible; a deserted city. Fine pickings for Boney
if he only knew."

Miss Marty's thoughts flew back at once to a corner cupboard in the
parlour, inlaid with tulips in Dutch marqueterie, and containing the
Major's priceless eggshell china. To be sure, if the French landed,
she--weak woman that she was--could not defend this treasure.
But might not the Major blame her for having abandoned it?

"I--I trust," she hazarded, "that our brave fellows have succeeded in
their enterprise. It seemed to me that I heard the sound of distant
firing just now."

"If they hadn't, miss, they'd ha' been back afore now. I had my own
doubts about 'em, for they're a hair-triggered lot, the Troy
Gallants. No fear of their goin' off; but 'tis a matter o' doubt in
what direction."

"Your master," said Miss Marty, severely, addressing Cai across
Scipio (who for some reason seldom or never spoke in Cai's company)--
"your master has the heart of a lion. He would die rather than
acknowledge defeat."

"A heart of a lion, miss, if you'll excuse my saying it, is an
uncomfortable thing in a man's stomach; an' more especially when 'tis
fed up on the wind o' vanity. I've a-read my Bible plumb down to the
forbidden books thereof, and there's a story in it called Bel and the
Dragon, which I mind keeping to the last, thinkin' 'twas the name of
a public-house. 'Tis a terrible warnin' against swollen vittles."

"You are a dreadful cynic, Cai."

"Nothin' of the sort, miss," said Cai, stoutly. "I thinks badly o'
most men--that's all."

His talk was always cross-grained, but its volume betrayed a quite
unwonted geniality to-night. And half a mile farther, where the dark
river bent around Wiseman's Stone, he so far relaxed as to rest on
his oars and challenge the famous echo from the wooded cliffs.
Somewhat to Miss Marty's astonishment it responded.

"And by night, too! I had no idea!"

"Night?" repeated Mr. Tamblyn, after rowing on for another fifty
strokes. He paused as if he had that moment heard, and glanced
upward. "'Tis much as ever. The sky's palin' already, and we'll not
reach Lerryn by sunrise. I think, miss, if you'll step ashore, this
here's as good a place as any. Scipio and me'll keep the boat and
turn our backs."

Miss Marty understood. The boat's nose having been brought alongside
a ridge of rock, she landed in silence, climbed the foreshore, up by
a hazel-choked path to a meadow above