gh official position, it was in
my power to render certain important services to the Government of this
country--for which, I may say, they have not proved themselves less
ungrateful than is the way of governments."

"So it would seem," I answered.

"But," he continued, "I called chiefly to renew my acquaintance with my
sometime wards--though one of them has sought another and a better
guardian" (here he bowed very gracefully to me), "and the other--well,
Louis lad, what have you to say to your old uncle?"

The boy came bounding up, and stood close by his chair, smoothing the
lace of Lalor's sleeve, his eyes full of happiness and confidence. It
was a pretty sight, and for a moment I confess I was baffled. Could it
be that after all Louis was right and Irma wrong? Could this man have
supposed that the children were being held against their will and
interest, or at least fraudulently removed from their legal guardian,
when he assaulted the old house of Marnhoul?

Perhaps, as I began to surmise, we had on that occasion really owed our
lives to him. For had the _Golden Hinds_ all come on at a time, they
would undoubtedly, being such a crew of cut-throats, have rushed us and
eaten us up in no time.

Women, I tried to persuade myself, had dislikes even more inexplicable
than their likings. Some early, unforgiven, childish prejudice, perhaps.
Women do not easily forgive, except those whom they love, and even these
only so long as they continue to love them. For many women the phrase in
the Lord's Prayer, "as we forgive them that trespass against us," had
better be expunged. It is a dead letter. The exceptions are so rare as
to prove the rule--and even they, though they may forgive their enemies,
draw the line at forgiving their neighbours.

"And am I not to see my fair enemy, Madame--ah, Duncan MacAlpine? I wish
to have the honour of felicitating her infinite happiness, and I have
taken the liberty of bringing her an old family jewel for her
acceptance."

"My wife, sir," I said, "is not yet well. She is subject to sudden
shock, and I fear----"

"Ah, I understand," he said, bowing gravely, and with a touch of
melancholy which became him vastly; "I never had the good fortune to
please the lady--as you have done."

He smiled again, and waved away a clumsy attempt of mine to reply.

"But that is my misfortune--perhaps, though unconsciously, my fault.
Still, there is the trinket. I leave it in your hands, in trust for