"It would be a trying state of things if our uncle were after all to make his appearance and claim the title and property," observed Algernon. "I suspect that our father would be very unwilling to give them up, and possession is nine-tenths of the law."

"Surely he would not hesitate if convinced of our uncle's identity," said Harry, "and would be thankful to welcome his brother back to life."

"He is so firmly convinced of his death that it would be difficult to persuade him to the contrary," replied Algernon. "For my own part I am not ambitious of becoming a baronet, and as far as I am individually concerned I should be ready to welcome with sincerity our long lost uncle."

"So should I," cried Harry warmly, "and surely our father with his political interest can, if he chooses, obtain a baronetcy for himself."

"He would prefer exerting that influence in gaining a higher rank," observed Algernon with a sigh. "He wished me to be in parliament, but he only a few days ago, greatly to my relief, acknowledged that he was afraid my health for the present would not enable me to stand the wear and tear I should have to undergo in the 'house.' I am afraid that it has greatly disappointed him. He probably will wish you to take the place he intended for me."

Harry laughed heartily.

"I in parliament," he exclaimed, "I should indeed feel like a fish out of water. I wish to stick to the service, and hope to get my flag some day."

"But there are naval men in parliament, and you may do that notwithstanding," said Algernon.

"I do not wish to disobey him, but the very thoughts of the life I should have to lead, talking and debating, or worse, listening to long debates in the close atmosphere of the House of Commons, would make me miserable. So, pray, if he suggests such a thing to you, tell him you are sure that I should not like it, and beg him to let me off."

Algernon promised to do as his brother wished.

They had taken the way to the downs to the south of Hurlston.

Harry enquired for their cousins, the Miss Pembertons. On hearing that they were still living there he proposed paying them a visit.

"To tell you the truth, I have not called since we came to Texford," answered Algernon. "You know that they have peculiar notions. Our father, looking upon them as puritanical dissenters, has no wish to have them at the house. I have not seen the old ladies for some years. I remember that they did not make a very favourable impression on me when I met them last."

"I suppose I may call on them," said Harry. "They were kind to me when I was a boy, and I liked cousin Mary, as we called her."

"Yes, there can be no objection to your going," answered Algernon. "They will not consider it necessary to return your visit, and will look upon it as a kindness."

The young men had been riding on further than they had intended, and being engaged in conversation while passing along lanes with high hedges on either side, they had not observed a storm gathering in the sky. Emerging from the lanes Harry invited his brother to take a gallop across the wide extended downs spread out before them, and thus they did not observe till they turned the thunder clouds sweeping up rapidly towards them.

"We shall get wet jackets, I suspect, before we reach home," observed Harry.

"I hope not," answered his brother, "for I have been especially charged to avoid the damp and cold, and I feel somewhat heated. I wish there was some place where we could get shelter."

"I am very sorry that I led you on, for I see no shed or cottage anywhere," said Harry, gazing round; "and I am afraid we shall have the rain down upon us before many minutes. Our shortest way to the nearest house at Hurlston will, I suspect, be across the downs. Come along, there is no time to spare."

They put their horses into a gallop. The downs though at a distance appearing to be level, were intercepted by several deep ravines, and the young men had not gone far before they were compelled to turn inland by coming to one of the most rugged and wild of these ravines, the side of which was too steep to allow them to ride down it.

A little further Harry observed a place which he thought they could descend without difficulty, and thus save some distance. As he reached the bottom, followed by Algernon, he saw nestling under a rock on one side a hut built party of rough stones, and partly of the planks of some wreck cast on shore. At the same moment a bright flash of lightning darted from the clouds, followed by a crashing peal of thunder, when immediately down came the rain.

"We may, at all events, find shelter in yonder hut," said Harry, "though it seems scarcely large enough to admit our horses, but I will hold them while you go inside."

They made their way down the ravine, when Algernon dismounting pushed open the door and ran in, while Harry leading the horses followed him.

At the further end of the hut a woman was seated on a stool before the wood fire blazing on the hearth, over which she bent, apparently engaged in watching the contents of an iron pot boiling on it.

"Who dares intrude unbidden into my mansion," she shrieked out in a wild unearthly tone, which made Algernon start back.

Her long grey hair hung down on either side of her colourless face, from which beamed forth a pair of wild eyes, glowing with the fire of madness. Her dress being of the same sombre hue as was everything in the hut, had as Algernon entered prevented him from observing her till she turned her face full upon him.

She rose as she spoke, confronting the two young men. "Who are you?" she repeated; "speak, or begone, and trouble me not."

"I beg your pardon for entering without leave," said Algernon; "but the rain is coming down so heavily that we should have been wet through in another minute, and there is no other shelter at hand."

"That's no answer to my question," she exclaimed. "What care I for rain or storm; let the lightning flash and the thunder roar, and do its worst. Go your way, I say, and leave me to my solitude."

"My brother would suffer should he get wet," said Harry, stepping in. "And I must beg you, my good lady, not to be annoyed if we remain till the storm is over; it will probably pass away in half an hour, and we beg not to interrupt you in what you are about."

"You are fair spoken, young sir, but you have not answered my question. Who are you, I ask again?"

"We are the sons of Sir Ralph Castleton, and we discovered your hut by chance, while looking for a place to obtain shelter from the rain."

"Spawn of the viper, how dare ye come hither to seek for shelter beneath my roof?" exclaimed the woman in a voice which made the young men start, so shrill and fierce did it sound, high above the roar of the thunder, the howling of the wind, and the pattering of the rain.

"A fit time ye have chosen to come and mock at me; but I have powers at my command to overwhelm you in a moment. See, the heavens fight on my side."

As she spoke a bright flash of lightning darted down the glen, which, with the crashing peal of thunder that followed, made the horses snort and plunge so violently, that Harry had no little difficulty in holding them, and was drawn out from the doorway in which he had been standing.

"And you deem yourself the heir of Texford," she continued in the same tone, gazing with her wild eyes intently fixed on Algernon. "Though you rejoice in youth and wealth, I see death stamped on your brow; and before many months have passed away, instead of dwelling in your proud and lordly hall, you will have become a tenant of the silent tomb. I can command the elements, and can read the future. It was I who summoned this storm to drive you hither that you might hear your fate, that fate which the stars last night revealed to me. Ah! ah! ah! you now wish that you had passed by instead of seeking shelter beneath my roof; but your destiny drove you hither, and against that you fight in vain."

Algernon feeling that it would be wiser not to reply to the wild ravings of the strange creature looked anxiously out of the hut, strongly inclined, in spite of the rain, to make his escape. Harry, who, having been engaged with the horses, had not heard what she first said, now brought them back again, and stood once more beneath the roof of the hut.

"At all events now we are here, my good woman, I hope you will not object to our remaining till the storm is over," he said, hoping that by speaking in a quiet tone he might calm her temper.

"I invited you not to come, I welcomed you not when you did come, and my curses will follow you when you go," she shrieked out.

"We really had better not stay," said Algernon to Harry. "I cannot understand what has irritated the poor woman, and I fear nothing we can say will have the effect of soothing her."

"I cannot consent to your going out and getting wet through," said Harry; "so notwithstanding what she says we must stay till the rain has ceased."

"My good woman, I really think you are mistaken with regard to us," said Harry, turning to the mad woman. "When we saw your cottage we were not aware that it was inhabited, and as we have taken up your time in interrupting you in what you were about, we shall be glad if you will accept a present as a recompense;" and Harry, giving the reins to Algernon to hold, took out half-a-guinea, and offered it to their hostess.

"You cannot bribe me to reverse the orders of fate," she shrieked out, snatching the coin from his hand and throwing it into the fire, and uttering a piercing shriek she frantically waved about her arms, now high above her head, now pointing at them with threatening gestures, till Algernon declared that he could stand it no longer. In vain Harry entreated him to remain till the rain had altogether ceased.

The old woman shouted and shrieked louder and louder, encouraged possibly by observing the effect her behaviour had produced on the eldest of the brothers. At last the rain moderating, Algernon rushed out of the hut.

"This is not to be endured," he exclaimed, as he mounted his horse.

Harry followed his example, and they rode up the glen as fast as the rugged nature of the road would allow them, the wild shrieks and cries of Mad Sal, as she watched them from the door of her hut, sounding in their ears till they gained the open downs.

"I am glad we are out of hearing of that dreadful old creature," said Algernon, as they galloped along. "I hope she will not prove a true prophetess."

"I don't believe in wizards or witches," answered Harry, "although sometimes by chance their predictions may appear to be fulfilled; and we should be foolish if we allowed the nonsense she talked to weigh on our spirits. I am very sure that the thread of our lives will not be cut shorter from anything she can do, and she certainly will not make me the less willing to go afloat, and fight as readily as I should have done had we not fallen in with her. She has evidently some dislike to the name of Castleton, and hearing us mention it, vented her feelings by trying to frighten us."

"Poor woman, she is perfectly mad. I am curious to learn who she is," observed Algernon. "Perhaps Groocock or some of the Hurlston people may know."

Although the rain had moderated, the young men were nearly wet through before they had made their way across the down; and instead of stopping at Hurlston, as they had intended, they rode on to Texford.

In spite of the exercise he had taken, Algernon complained of the cold, and Harry observed that he shivered several times. As he, however, hurried to his room immediately on his arrival, and changed his wet things, his brother hoped he would not suffer.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

JULIA CASTLETON.

The party whom Miss Castleton had offered to escort round the—grounds consisted of several ladies and gentlemen, most of them young, with the exception of an old military officer, General Sampson, who, however, was as active and gallant as the youngest, and a matronly dame, Mrs Appleton, who went with the idea that a chaperone would be required on the occasion.

As is not unfrequently the case under similar circumstances, the party before long separated. The general and Mrs Appleton had sat down to rest in a summer-house, while the rest of the party went on. The chaperone, on discovering that they had got out of sight, started up, and was hurrying forward to overtake them, when her bonnet, adorned with huge bows, caught in a low hanging bough, and, to her horror, before she could stop her progress, not only was it dragged off, but so was her cap, and the wig she wore beneath. The general doing his utmost to maintain his gravity hastened up to her assistance. At the same moment three of the young ladies, with two of the gentlemen who had accompanied them, having turned back appeared in sight, and hearing her cries hastened towards her. The general, who was short of stature, though of no small width, had, in the meantime, been in vain attempting to unhook the bows from the branch.

"Let me, general, let me," exclaimed poor Mrs Appleton, who was tall and thin; and she made an effort to extricate her bonnet.

While she was thus employed, leaving her bare head exposed, her companions reached the spot, trying in vain to stifle their laughter.

By the exertions of a tall gentleman of the party, her bonnet was at length set free, and with the assistance of the young ladies was, with the wig and cap, replaced on her head.

"Well, my dears, the same accident might have happened to any one of you," she remarked, with a comical expression, which showed that she was less put out than most people would have been by the occurrence, "though to be sure, as you have only your natural hair beneath your bonnets, that, I conclude, would have stuck faster to your head than mine did, which, as you have discovered, is for convenience sake removable at pleasure."

Captain Headland, on leaving the house, wishing to be polite to all, had addressed himself to three or four of the young ladies in succession, but either finding the conversation uninteresting, or that he could not keep it up, had walked on by the side of Julia. He soon found that his tongue before tied, became perfectly free. She had so many questions to ask about Harry, and the various adventures they had gone through together, that he soon found he had plenty to say. He was led on to speak of himself, of the battles in which they both had taken a part. While he gave her rapid and brilliant accounts of them, he found her often looking up with her bright eyes fixed on his countenance. So interested did she become, that she forgot that she had undertaken to act as guide to the rest of the party. Not till they had walked on a considerable distance, and had reached the opposite side of the lake, did she and the young officer discover that they were not followed.

"Our friends cannot be far behind us," she said. "We ought to go back, and we shall soon meet them. I promised to guide them through the labyrinth which leads to Fair Rosamond's Bower, as the summer-house on the top of the mound overlooking the lake is called, and no one will otherwise be able to find it."

"I was scarcely observing where we were going. What a beautiful view of the lake we have from hence," remarked Headland, as they turned.

"Yes, this is one of the most beautiful; but there are several other lovely points on the shores, especially at the further end," said Julia. "I intended to have conducted our friends to them. This lake was, I believe, in our great grandfather's time but little more than a wild-fowl decoy, with almost bare shores. He had trees planted on the banks, and the lagoon deepened and considerably enlarged, while, with the earth and gravel thrown out, mounds were raised which give the picturesque variety you observe to the banks. We have two boats on the lake; but do you not think the model of a man-of-war floating on the surface would add to the picture?"

Captain Headland naturally thought so, and said he should be happy to assist Harry in getting one built and rigged.

"Oh, I am sure mamma would like it," said Julia, "and papa, though he might not take much interest in the matter, would not object. Till Harry went to sea, we had no naval men in the family, and neither Sir Reginald nor his predecessor, our great grandfather, took any interest in nautical affairs, as they were fox-hunters and sportsmen."

Captain Headland said he would talk to Harry on the subject, and see what they could do.

They continued walking on, but none of their friends appeared, they having, as it happened, turned away from the lake in a totally opposite direction. Julia thought that they might have gone round to the side she had proposed visiting. She therefore led her companion in that direction.

Their conversation continued as animated as before. Headland, who had a real taste for the beauties of nature, admired the views which the lake exhibited; the wooded islands, the green points, the drooping trees and weeping willows hanging over the waters, their forms reflected on its surface; stately swans with arched necks which glided by leading their troops of cygnets. The only sounds heard were the splash of the fish as they leaped out of their watery home, the various notes of birds, and the subdued hum of insects flitting in the sunshine, where here and there an opening in the foliage allowed it to penetrate into the otherwise shady walk.

They at length reached the end of the lake; it was the furthest point almost in the grounds from the house.

Just then the storm which had overtaken Algernon and Harry burst above Texford. It had come on so suddenly that not till a loud peal of thunder crashed almost above their heads were they aware of its approach.

"I fear the rain will come down before we can reach the house, Miss Castleton," observed Captain Headland. "If there is a boat near at hand I might row you across the lake, which would both shorten the distance and save you the fatigue of walking."

"One of the boats is generally kept a little further on, and if you think we can go faster by water, I shall be much obliged to you."

Before the boat was reached heavy drops of rain began to fall.

"There is a summer-house close at hand overlooking the lake," said Julia, and led her companion to it.

They had scarcely got under shelter when the rain descended in torrents.

Julia and Captain Headland naturally renewed the interesting conversation in which they had before been engaged, not aware how time went by. Every minute the young officer was in Julia's society, forgetting his previous resolutions, he admired her more and more.

It was so evident that she had unintentionally separated from their companions that he did not for one moment think her forward or designing. With her delicate and refined beauty he had been struck from the first, and was now still more pleased with her animated and intelligent conversation.

"I wonder Harry did not speak more to me about her," he thought, "though perhaps he might have fancied had he praised her I might have supposed he wished to offer her as an attraction to me to visit Texford. However, I am convinced that such a thought never entered his mind."

Although the rain at length ceased, the walks were so wet that Julia confessed she should prefer crossing the lake to returning home by land.

At the other end of the lake an artificial stream of sufficient depth for the boat, known as the Serpentine, meandered through the grounds and reached almost to the house. There were several rustic bridges which crossed it here and there, but they were of sufficient height to allow the boat to pass under them. Julia having told Headland where he could find the boat while she remained in the summer-house, he went to fetch it. As it was kept under a shed it was perfectly dry. He handed her into it, and pushing off from the bank they commenced their voyage.

The sun again shone forth brightly, and the air felt fresh and pure after the storm. For some distance he rowed close to the shore where a number of water-lilies floated on the surface. He had seldom seen such beautiful flowers. He described, however, the marine gardens in the Eastern seas visible through the clear water for an immense depth below the surface.

"Have you been much in the East?" asked Julia.

"I believe I was born there," he answered, forgetting his intention of not speaking of himself. "Indeed my early days were at all events passed in that part of the world. I have been at sea the greater portion of my life, and have comparatively but little knowledge of the shore or the dwellers on it. I had no notion that there were such beautiful places as this appears to me in England. I conclude there are not many such."

"Oh, yes," said Julia. "There are many far more magnificent and extensive, though I might not admire them more than this, and certainly should not love them so much. Though we have not been here very long, I spent months when I was a girl with our uncle Sir Reginald, and became greatly attached to the place. We did not know at the time that we should ever come to live here, as papa's elder brother was then alive. Though he has not since been heard of he is supposed to be dead, and papa consequently came into possession of the title and estates."

Julia said this not feeling that there was any necessity for keeping the matter a secret from their guest indeed she would not have been surprised had he replied that her brother had told him of the circumstances.

Headland rowed slowly over the calm water. He was in no hurry to finish the voyage, and the young lady seemed to enjoy the scenery. Now and then he stopped and let the boat float quietly on, that they might admire some fresh point of view.

"Do you sketch, Captain Headland?" asked Julia.

He replied that he had had no opportunity of taking lessons in his younger days, except now and then from a mess-mate who had enjoyed the advantage on shore, though he was accustomed to draw ships and to sketch the outlines of the coasts that he might recognise them on subsequent visits, but that now, with the probability of remaining on shore, he should be glad to study the art.

"I should like to come out on the lake and make some sketches," said Julia. "I have hitherto had no one to row the boat, and Algernon can seldom be tempted on the water; indeed, he is not much of an oarsman."

Captain Headland expressed the pleasure it would give him to be of service in that capacity, and Julia said she should be glad to take advantage of his offer.

At length they reached the end of the lake and entered the Serpentine. There was just room to row the boat along between the grassy banks. Here and there the trees overhung the channel, and sometimes they had to bend down to avoid the branches.

They had nearly reached the end where there were some stone steps with a gravel walk above them, leading directly to the house, and a rustic bridge spanning the stream.

The old general who had taken post on the bridge, and had been for some time watching their approach, hailed them.

"Hilloa! gallant son of Neptune, I congratulate you on discovering our missing Ariadne who was to have been our guide through the labyrinthine walks of Texford. Fortunately we missed our way, and found ourselves close to the house just as the storm came on."

"I must apologise, General Sampson, for leaving you and our other friends; but we had got to some distance before we discovered that you were not following," said Julia, somewhat annoyed at the general's remarks.

"The truth is, my dear young lady, it is we who have to apologise to you for not keeping pace with your fairy-like movements, and fearing that Sir Ralph and Lady Castleton might justly blame me as the senior of the party for deserting you, I hurried out as soon as the rain ceased in the hopes of finding you before you reached the house, to entreat you to offer some excuse for my conduct. But I suspect the captain is chiefly to blame, and if you will enter into a compact with me we will sacrifice him."

"I am ready to be the victim should Miss Castleton consider any excuse necessary," said Captain Headland, as he handed Julia out of the boat, while the old general stood on the top of the steps.

They walked together to the house, the latter talking in the same style as before. Julia ran in, glad to escape him.

"You will be a lucky dog, captain, if you succeed in securing so fair a prize," whispered the general, giving the young officer a not very gentle dig in the ribs. "I have entertained some thoughts in that direction myself, but I see that a soldier has no chance with a naval man as his rival."

"Really, general, you allow your imagination to go too fast. I am a comparative stranger to Miss Castleton, and have no merit which could justify me in hoping—"

"Of course, of course, my young friend we must all feel our personal want of merit when a lady is concerned. Nevertheless she may possibly regard you in a more favourable light than you suppose, from the reports we have heard of your gallant deeds."



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

MAY'S GUARDIANS.

Dame Halliburt made her appearance at Downside early the next morning to enquire after May. Miss Pemberton, who had expected the good woman, begged her to step into her dispensary, as she called the small room in which she received her poorer visitors, that they might talk over the matter.

The dame said that she should have come up the previous evening, but that Jacob had not returned till late at night, when he told her what had happened. He had been on the look-out for young Gaffin to bring him to account for his conduct, but had been unable to find him.

"I am sorry for that," said Miss Jane. "I charged him to use no violence towards the young man."

"Lord bless you, marm," answered the dame, "our Jacob is as gentle as a lamb. I don't think he could use violence towards any man, though to be sure if he had fallen in with that impudent young chap he would have given him a pretty sound drubbing."

"I fear that your son's style of drubbing would be a pretty strong act of violence," observed Miss Jane. "Judging from the appearance of his arm, it possesses sufficient strength to fell an ox, and one blow from it might injure the youth for life."

"I don't doubt but that our Jacob could hit pretty hard if his spirit was up," observed the dame with a smile of maternal pride. "I cannot say, however, but what I am glad he didn't find young Gaffin."

"One thing is certain, we must not let our May run the chance of being spoken to again by this young fellow. If he is stopping at the inn he probably will not remain long in the place, and she will soon be able to go to and fro from your house as usual. Indeed, I hope from the proper way she treated him that he will not again make the attempt to speak to her."

"Fellows of his sort are not so easily put down as you may suppose, Miss Jane, and if he is the miller's son, he may be as audacious as he is impudent," observed the dame.

"Whatever he is, we will take good care that he has no opportunity of exhibiting his audacity," said Miss Pemberton; "and I beg that you will charge your son to take no further notice of the affair. If your husband could see the young man and warn him of the consequences of his conduct, he might induce him to behave properly in future. Now you will like to see May."

Miss Jane went out, and sent May into the room.

The dame received her with a warm embrace, but as the subject of young Gaffin was a disagreeable one, she did not speak much about it.

"Have you told the ladies about the grand doings to take place at Texford?" asked the dame.

May confessed that she had forgotten all about it.

"Then while I am here I will just put in a word. A little change will do you good, and if I tell them I'll keep you by my side all the time, I don't think they will object."

"We will think about it," was Miss Jane's answer, when the dame told her. "I am not an admirer of fetes and fantastic worldly doings such as I conclude will take place at Texford. I fear there is more harm done than pleasure obtained."

"The scene may amuse her, as she has seen nothing of the sort," observed Miss Mary. "Far be it from me to countenance even indirectly the follies of worldly people, but as this fete is intended to afford amusement to the tenantry and labourers, it must be kindly meant, and if May herself desires to accompany Dame Halliburt, I think that we ought not to deny her the amusement."

"Thank you," said May, simply. "I should like to go, very much."

The dame returned home satisfied that May was not likely to receive any further annoyance from young Gaffin, and well pleased that there would be no difficulty about her attending the fete.

Jacob arrived in the evening at Downside with a basket of shells. May could not help asking him whether he had seen young Gaffin, and again entreated him not to interfere.

"I have not seen him, but I know where he is," answered Jacob; "and I don't think he will show his nose outside the house without having me at his heels."

Every day before going off for the night's fishing in the Nancy, Jacob managed to find time to get up to Downside.

He would have been a bold man who would have ventured to encounter the young fisherman with any intention of annoying Maiden May. Honest love, when the object loved is to be benefited, wonderfully sharpens the wits. Jacob, who would never have thought of such a thing under other circumstances, had set a boy to watch the inn, and bring him word of Miles's movements. When he was away, the lad was to inform his mother.

Miles, either in obedience to his father's directions, or because he had found out that he was watched, kept himself a prisoner, and did not venture beyond the precincts of the garden at the back of the house, where he spent most of the day sauntering up and down, smoking his pipe, and forming plans for winning the young lady in spite of the obstacles in his way. Though unable to appreciate any higher qualities, he had been really struck by her beauty, and was as much in love as it was in his nature to be. He was thus perfectly ready to enter into any scheme which his father might propose for gaining her, either by fair means or foul.

"I would not hurt her feelings if I could help it," he said to himself; "but I am pretty sure I have a rival in that young fellow Halliburt. I guessed that when she took his arm and ran off from me. She knows well enough that he is not her brother, though they have been brought up together, and girls are generally apt to admire those big, sturdy-looking chaps who have done them a service, more than well-dressed, gentlemanly young men like myself," and Miles glanced approvingly on his new and fashionable costume. "If she still turns a cold eye upon me that worthy dad of mine must manage to get the young fisherman out of the way—it won't do to have him interfering—and with a clear stage I shall not have insuperable difficulties to overcome, I flatter myself."

Still Miles had to remain inactive some days longer. At last he received a note from his father telling him to go, if he pleased, to the fete at Texford, and simply state, if asked, that he was the son of a tenant, saying that he was spending a few days at Hurlston, and had come instead of his father, who was unable to attend. "I find that Dame Halliburt is going, and I have no doubt she will take her daughter, as she calls her, with her," he added. "You will thus have an opportunity of meeting the girl under more favourable circumstances than before, and if you mind your P's and Q's it will be your own fault if you do not work yourself into her good graces."

Miles received this communication with intense satisfaction. Having a thoroughly good opinion of himself, he had now little doubt that he should succeed in his enterprise.



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

THE FETE AT TEXFORD.

No summer's day could be more bright and lovely than that on which the fete at Texford took place. Visitors of high and low degree—for it was to be a meeting of all classes—were seen at an early hour moving along the roads from every direction towards the park, some in carriages, some on horseback, others in light tilted waggons and carts, and no inconsiderable number on foot.

The distance between Hurlston and Texford was upwards of two miles by the road, but the inhabitants of the village could enjoy a pleasanter and much shorter path across the fields.

The dame arrived at Downside in good time to escort May. She to the last felt some hesitation, however, about going, as it was evident that Miss Jane was doubtful as to the propriety of the proceeding, but Miss Mary, with whom she had discussed the subject over and over again, always concluded with the remark that though it might be dangerous to trust a gay and a giddy girl in such a scene, their steady and sensible May was not likely in consequence to gain a taste for the frivolities of the world, and that, as she had never seen anything of the sort, she could not fail to be amused, while, from her unremitting attention to them, she certainly deserved a holiday. May, not to appear out of place while in company with the good fishwife, had dressed herself in a costume as much as possible like that which a well-to-do fisherman's daughter would wear; and although she had not intended to produce any such effect, her neat straw hat and cloak set her beauty off to even greater advantage.

Adam, who had with the dame's earnest persuasion consented to accompany her, waited outside. Jacob, strange to say, had declined accompanying his mother and May. He had work to attend to on board the Nancy, and had no fancy for jigging about with the girls of the village, while May did not intend to join in the revels. Jacob, indeed, felt that he should be out of place. He knew that it would not do to be seen standing near his mother and May all the time, and he should take no pleasure in wandering about away from them.

May was perhaps relieved when she heard that Jacob was not coming. Although she regarded him with esteem for his honesty and bravery, and his devotion to her, she felt instinctively that the less he was in her society, the better for him.

"You will come home early," said Miss Jane, as she wished her good-bye; "and you will keep to your resolution in not mixing with the throng more than you can help."

"You must tell me all that takes place when you come back," said Miss Mary. "If you see Miss Castleton and her brothers, and you will scarcely fail to do so, I shall like to hear all about them. Julia must have grown into a tall young lady, and Harry and Algernon into full-grown men. I shall be interested in hearing what Harry is like especially; he was a great favourite of mine when a boy. He has now become a fine gallant officer. I wish I could let him know how much I should like to see him; for although Sir Ralph and Lady Castleton have been so inattentive, we should not, therefore, feel the less regard for their son, and I am sure he would not hesitate to come, if he remembered that we are here."

This was said in the presence of the dame.

"If I have a chance of speaking to Mr Harry, I will tell him," she said. "I will remind him how he saved our Maiden May from the bull, and maybe he will remember Adam and me, and come up and speak to us, as he won't have forgotten his trip in the Nancy, though he is not likely to wish to take another."

"Tell him, then, that we hope to see him," said Miss Mary.

The dame promised to deliver the message.

When the dame and her companions arrived at Texford, she remarked that the appearance of the place was totally changed. There stood the house, certainly, as usual, but the park looked like a huge fair. There were numerous booths and tents in all directions, and swings and roundabouts, targets for archery, courses marked off for running races, arrangements for the old game of quintain, for Sir Ralph was somewhat of an antiquarian, and wished to re-introduce it. There were three bands of music, the best stationed near the house, and the others at, a sufficient distance not to interfere with it. A band of Morris dancers had been arranged by Sir Ralph's desire, and there were a couple of jugglers who went about performing feats which greatly astonished the rustics. As May and her friends passed along the lake, they saw a number of boats which had been brought there from Morbury, that races and other aquatic sports might be indulged in. Indeed, everything had been prepared which could possibly be thought of for affording amusement to the assemblage.

The sports on the lake were to be, as the dame suspected, under the charge of Mr Harry and his naval friend, Captain Headland, who were, however, both too energetic not to take a part in everything that was going forward.

The guests of higher degree were already assembling on the broad steps or the gravel walk in front of the house, when the dame and May found themselves among the crowd of tenants and others on the lawn, who felt that it would be disrespectful until invited to approach the neighbourhood of their betters.

Mr Groocock was going about attending to the multifarious duties imposed on him. Though he was as active as ever, his task appeared to give him more trouble than pleasure.

"Glad to see you, dame, and Miss May and friend Adam," he said, as he once passed close to where they were standing.

"Thank you, Mr Groocock. It's a beautiful sight," observed the dame, in reply.

"Well enough," answered the steward, "but the work it imposes is more suited to young limbs, than to mine," and he passed on to give some directions.

The signal for the sports to begin was now given, and a large portion of the people collected were soon engaged according to their tastes—some dancing, some running races, others amusing themselves with the various games, and others witnessing the feats of the jugglers, or looking on at the pantomimic performances of the Morris dancers.

It required some exertion, however, of the directors of the fete to set the guests in motion, or to keep them entertained in the variety of ways which had been prepared for their amusement. Among the most active who were thus engaged were Harry Castleton and his friend Headland, it being more in accordance with Algernon's taste to devote himself to the guests of higher degree.

"I must go and get yonder crowd of rustics under weigh again," Harry observed to Headland, on seeing a number of people standing idle near one of the spots devoted to dancing.

Dame Halliburt and her companions had taken up a position not far off it, on a grassy mound under the shade of a tree, where, a little removed from the crowd, they could observe all that was going forward. Harry was passing by when he saw the dame, who had recognised him, following him with her eyes. It is possible that at the same time he may have caught sight of May's sweet countenance; at all events he stopped, and going up to the dame, said—

"I think I ought to know you."

"Yes, please you, Mr Harry; and maybe you remember the trip you took in the Nancy with my good man here."

"Ah, how fares it with you, my friend?" he said, shaking Adam by the hand. "I remember the trip right well."

"You have pretty nigh grown out of remembrance, but I am right glad to see you, Mr Harry," answered Adam.

"Maybe you recollect, sir, saving our Maiden May from a wild bull?" said the dame, looking towards May, who blushed as she spoke, for Harry glanced up, and her eyes met his fixed on her lovely countenance with an unmistakable expression of admiration.

"I was very glad, I know, to have been of service, though I suspect I ran very little personal risk in performing the exploit," said Harry, still looking at May, and wondering at the delicate beauty and refined manner of the fisherman's daughter.

"I suspect that I was too young to have thanked you for the service you rendered me as I ought to have done," she said, "for my mother has since told me that had it not been for you I might have been killed by the fierce creature."

"All I did I remember was to throw your red cloak at the animal, and that required no great exertion of courage or strength," answered Harry, smiling. "I then ran off with you, and lifted you over the gate. I can only feel thankful, now you bring the circumstance to my recollection, that I came up at the moment to save you," answered Harry. "But are you not going to join the dancers?"

"I promised some kind friends with whom I live to avoid mixing with the crowd," answered May; "and they would especially object to my dancing. Indeed, I confess that I have never danced in my life."

"Very strange," said Harry. "Who are they, may I ask?"

"The Miss Pembertons," answered May. "You surely, Mr Castleton, remember them, and they desired mother and me to express their great wish to see you again."

"Oh, yes, my good cousins, of course I do. Pray tell them that I will call upon them to-morrow, or the first day I possibly can. I am not surprised that they do not quite approve of dancing; but have they actually prohibited you? We shall form some fresh sets shortly nearer the house, which my sister and other ladies will join, and can you not be tempted to come too? You would have no difficulty, as the figures are not intricate, and you need only move through them as you see others do."

May smiled, but shook her head.

"No," she said, "the Miss Pembertons made no exception with respect to those with whom I might dance, and I fear that they would object as much to my dancing in a quiet set as they would to my joining those who are rushing up and down so energetically out there;" and May looked towards the spot where a country dance of rustics was going on, the swains dragging their partners along at no small risk of pulling off their arms, though sometimes the case was reversed, and the damsels were engaged in hauling on their more awkward partners. "I must say that I have no reason to regret not being among them," she added, with her eyes full of laughter as she watched the vehement movements of the dancers to which she had called Harry's attention.

"Oh, but we shall move much more quietly in the dance I ask you to join, and I am sure it will suit your taste better," he said.

Still May declined firmly, though gently. Harry was convinced that she was not to be persuaded. Had he consulted his own inclination he would have stopped and talked to her as long as she remained, but he remembered that he had numerous duties to perform.

"Are you likely to be walking about the grounds, or do you intend to remain where you are?" he asked.

May turned to the dame for the answer.

"While this sort of fun goes on I do not think we can be better off than where we are," answered the dame.

"I will see you again," said Harry, who admired the manner in which she obeyed her friends' wishes, and hesitated to repeat his request. "Perhaps my sister would like to send a message to our cousins. Pray tell them that she regards them with the same feeling she has always done."

"I will gladly carry the message to the Miss Pembertons," said May.

"Thank you," said Harry. "I will try to get my sister to give it you herself," and he tore himself away.

"What a lovely creature that little girl with the blue eyes has grown into," Harry thought to himself. "I remember she was a sweet child, and now she is as near perfection as I can fancy any human being. I wonder if I should think so if I saw her dressed as a young lady in a ball room. Yes, I am sure of it—any dress would become her. I must get Julia to see her. And yet I do not know, she might possibly say something I should not like. Maiden May, what a pretty name. She spoke, too, of living with our cousins. Can she be their servant? Yet she does not speak or look like one. Her manner and tone of voice is perfectly that of a young lady. But I must not think too much about her, or I shall forget what I have to do."

Harry hurried on, trying to collect his thoughts, which the vision of Maiden May had scattered.

He had now to set a troop of boys running races, now to arrange another rustic dance.

It was some time before he made his way back to the house, where his friend Headland had got before him, and was now engaged with Julia and other friends in arranging the sets to be formed by ladies and gentlemen, and in which some of the daughters of the upper class of tenantry and shopkeepers would take their place.

Harry excused himself from leading out a partner on the plea that he had so many duties to perform, and before long he again found himself approaching the spot where Adam and his wife were standing. As he did so he saw a man come up to them and make a low bow, beginning to speak to May, at which she turned away with a look of annoyance, not unmingled with scorn, while she put her arm into that of the dame.

So Harry interpreted the expression of her countenance. Had it not been for this Harry would have hesitated to approach.

"I am sure, Miss, I do not wish to offend you, and I have a thousand pardons to ask," he heard the stranger say. "It's all a mistake to suppose that I intended to be otherwise than polite and respectful."

The dame, as she drew May nearer to her, looked up at her husband, and was going to speak. Adam made a step or two towards the young man, and looking him firmly in the face, said—

"This is not the place where I can treat you as you deserve; but there is only one thing I have to say, that is to take yourself off, and don't come near our Maiden May if you wish to keep a whole skin on your back."

Young Miles, for it was he, knowing that he was perfectly safe from personal violence in Texford Park, putting on a swaggering look, was about to reply, when he saw Harry coming up, and observed an angry frown on the young officer's brow.

"I'll make you pay dearly for this, old fellow," he muttered between his teeth, and turning round, slunk away towards the nearest group of persons, among whom he soon concealed himself.

"Who was that young man?" asked Harry, glancing in the direction Miles had gone. "He seems to have caused you some annoyance," and he looked at May, who however did not reply.

The dame spoke for her.

"He is an audacious young fellow, who came to Hurlston a few days ago, and has had the impertinence to speak to our Maiden May when she was alone out walking; and if it had not been for our Jacob, I don't know what she would have done. He is the son of the miller at Hurlston, and we have reason to think he would speak to her again if he had the chance, so she has had to keep inside the grounds at Downside ever since, till she came out with my husband and me, and we little thought he would have been here; but it only shows what he is capable of."

"What, did that fellow dare to speak to you against your wish?" exclaimed Harry, indignantly. "I must take measures to prevent his doing so again. If the miller cannot keep him in order, I must beg Mr Groocock to desire him to send the fellow away again. You say he only came here lately," he added, turning to the dame.

"Yes, Mr Harry, he only came to Hurlston lately, though he was born and bred in the place. He was sent away after his mother's death some four years ago, and has not been back that I know of till lately."

"Depend on it he shall not cause you any further annoyance," said Harry, again addressing May, "and pray do not let the matter trouble you further. I scarcely dare ask whether you are still resolved not to dance?"

"Quite as resolved as at first," answered May. "Even if I greatly wished to do so, I could not break my promise to my kind friends."

Harry took notice of her reply.

"Surely she would not speak of them as her kind friends if she was in their service," he thought, and he longed to ascertain the position she held in his cousins' family. Her costume gave him no clue, but her manner, her tone of voice, and her mode of expressing herself, showed him that she was a person of education. He was greatly puzzled. He longed to ask her more questions, but was afraid of appearing inquisitive.

"When the people begin to get tired of their present amusements, we are going to have some boat racing on the lake, and as soon as it grows dark there are to be fireworks, which will have a pretty effect on the water. I hope that you will remain to see them," he said.

"I regret that we cannot do so," answered May. "Neither of the ladies are well, and I never like to be absent, especially from Miss Mary, long at a time, as Miss Jane having a cold there is no one else to read to her."

"Are you fond of reading?" asked Harry.

"Yes. Indeed, it is the chief source of amusement I have," answered May. "I have read, I believe, every book the Miss Pembertons possess, and with their usual kindness they have procured a good many fresh ones for me. Though Miss Jane is not an admirer of the French, she allowed me to study their language, so that I can read it with ease, though I fear that I should find myself greatly at a loss were I to attempt to speak it."

"When you have the opportunity of hearing it spoken, I am sure you will soon get over that difficulty," observed Harry.

"I hope to do so if I am ever able to mix with French people, or to obtain a French master."

"I am considered to speak it well, and perhaps you will allow me when I call to give you a lesson," said Harry, now thoroughly convinced that, at all events, the fisherman's daughter was not in a menial capacity in his cousins' family.

He felt relieved. There would be nothing derogatory in his attempting to become better acquainted with the fair young creature with whom he had been so greatly struck. Though very unwilling at present to leave her, he was conscious that he ought not, with so many eyes likely to be turned in that direction, to remain longer in her society.

"I must attend to my duties," he said, nodding to Adam and his wife. Unconsciously he lifted his hat to May with the same respect he would have shown to any high born young lady in the land.

May watched him till he was lost in the crowd. If he by chance approached young Miles, that worthy kept out of his way. Harry had undertaken to start the rowers on the lake with the assistance of Headland. It was remarked that he made two or three mistakes, which were, however, remedied by his friend. His eyes continually wandered among the crowd on the banks as if in search of some one. Headland rallied him when they were alone for a few minutes.

"Why, Harry, you look quite bewildered! Has anything happened?" he asked.

"Yes, indeed," laughed Harry, who had no secrets with Headland. "I have made a discovery. I have seen such a lovely girl. I wanted to point her out to you and Julia, but I could not find you. I went a second time myself to be satisfied that I had not gazed at her with rose-coloured spectacles, but I found that she was even superior, if possible, to what she at first appeared. I am romantic, you know, but I tell you she is perfectly charming."

"Who is she?" asked Headland.

"Only a fisherman's daughter, but she is living with my cousins, and, from what I understand, has been educated by them, though they certainly could not have given her the graceful manner and sweet tone of voice so remarkable in her had she not possessed them naturally."

"My dear Harry, charming as she may be do not lose your heart to her, or attempt to win hers in return, if she is of the parentage you tell me, for although I have no right to lay any stress on the point of birth, yet I am very sure that others will, and you may be entangled in a way which will produce much suffering, and may be painful to her as well as to you."

"I have been thinking of that," answered Harry, "and if she were only an ordinarily pretty girl I would at once put up my helm and run away from her; but she is so perfectly lovely that I feel capable of overcoming every possible objection, could I win her."

"Perhaps when you see her again you may discover some slight defects which were not discernible at your first interview," observed Headland, smiling. "Did I not think this very possible I would advise you not to call at your cousins as you propose. Otherwise I should certainly say, keep out of her way. I know you too well not to feel sure that you would not wish to win her love without feeling sure that you could make her your wife."

"I should be a wretch indeed if I wished otherwise," said Harry. "If you saw her perhaps you would agree with me that she is the essence of all that is pure and modest, and I could not approach her with any other thought in my mind."

"For that very reason, Harry, I would advise you simply to pay your cousins the visit you propose, and then keep away from Downside till you are about to join another ship."

"At all events I will go there to-morrow," said Harry. "If I find that I am mistaken there can be no harm done; but I am not blind, and I am too well accustomed to ladies' society not to be able to distinguish between what is refined, and graceful, and lady-like, and their opposites," exclaimed Harry.

"Well, be cautious what you say, and how you look and act," answered Headland, knowing Harry's impetuous character.

The friends again parted. The aquatic sports were concluded, the fireworks over, and the fete in the park came to an end.

The more select guests, however, had been invited to remain for a dance in the house.

Some of the young ladies thought Lieutenant Castleton was much less entertaining than they had expected to find him, for though he danced indefatigably, he had very little to say for himself.

Headland made himself as agreeable as usual, though it was remarked that his eye brightened and a smile lighted up his countenance whenever Julia Castleton passed near him, or he had an opportunity of speaking to her.



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

HARRY'S VISIT TO DOWNSIDE.

"And what do you think of my friend Headland? I have not overpraised him, have I?" asked Harry, when he happened to find himself alone with Julia in the garden the morning after the fete.

"You certainly have not overpraised him," answered Julia, examining some flowers amid which they were walking. "I do not remember that you ever said very much in his favour."

"Oh, yes, I did, I am sure, for I admire him more than any other fellow I know, and I am sure when I was last at home I constantly told you of the gallant things he had done."

"That was before I saw him, and I suppose I forgot all about it."

"Well, I am glad you like him, indeed, I am sure everybody must. But, by-the-bye, Julia, do not fall in love with him, however gallant a fellow he is, or I shall be sorry that I brought him here, though I should never suppose you likely to be guilty of such a weakness. Perhaps I ought to have told you at once that I know, to a certainty, he is not a marrying man. He and I have frequently talked the subject over, and he has assured me that he should never think of taking a wife unless, in the first place, she was charming and lovely, and refined and highly educated, and perfect in every way, indeed, next door to an angel, and would love him entirely for himself. Perhaps also I ought to have told you before that he is a man of no family, or rather he does not know to what family he belongs, as he was separated from them when an infant, and has lost all means by which he can discover who his parents were."

Harry did not observe the colour which his remarks brought to his sister's cheeks while they walked on, for she turned her head as if looking at the flowers at her side.

"I have not liked to mention this circumstance to any one, not thinking it fair to my friend, as it would set people talking about him. But you well know how very tenacious our father is on the subject of birth, and so I fancy is our mother, and they would blame me excessively if you were to captivate Headland and be captivated by him; and Algernon, who, I confess, put me up to speak to you on the subject, says he is certain that they would never give their consent to your marrying my friend, though, to confess the truth, there is nothing I should like so much. In fact, Julia, whether or not he thinks you come up to his standard of perfection, I cannot help fancying that he admires you excessively, and so, as Algernon insisted on it, I felt that I must warn you in time."

"In time!" murmured Julia. "You should have said this before."

"I never should have thought of saying it at all, my dear sister, if it had not been for Algernon," answered Harry. "You know, intimate as I am with Headland, I could not say anything of the sort to him, or warn him not to make love to you. And Algernon agrees with me on that point, as to a man of his delicate honour and sensitive feeling, it would be equivalent to telling him he must leave Texford, or it would appear as if I wanted to put the notion into his head."

"Oh, pray do not on any account say a word to him!" exclaimed Julia. "You would not be justified in saying anything which might make your friend suppose he is not welcome at Texford."

"Oh, no, depend on my discretion," said Harry, now for the first time observing Julia's countenance, which in spite of her efforts betrayed the agitation of her feelings. "My dear Julia, I almost wish that I had not spoken. I am afraid that what I have said has in some way annoyed you. Believe me, that nothing would give me greater pleasure in life than to see you become Headland's wife; in fact, it used to be one of my boyish dreams of happiness. But, as I said, I felt that I must do as Algernon wished, and warn you, should he pay you any particular attention, not to encourage him, as also not to allow the admiration you naturally have for him to ripen into a warmer feeling. There, I have done my duty, and I will not say another word on the subject, and I would not have said it now if I had not been persuaded that I ought to do so for your happiness," and honest Harry stopped at last, greatly to his sister's relief.

She pressed her brother's hand, showing that she believed his sincerity, and then hurried to her room. She would rather have remained in the fresh air, but she was afraid of meeting any one, and she felt that she could not just then enter into conversation; least of all would she wish to meet Captain Headland.

Her brother's words had suddenly revealed to her the state of her own heart. She had heard Captain Headland praised and spoken of as one of the most gallant among the gallant officers of the day, and he had himself recounted to her in modest language some of the daring deeds he had performed; and yet this brave officer when speaking to her was so gentle and deferential, that he seemed to feel as if he was addressing a being infinitely his superior. He evidently preferred her society to that of any other lady in the house, as he always, when an opportunity occurred, singled her out from the rest; and several times, when he fancied she was not watching him, she had observed his eyes fixed on her, while, whenever he addressed her, his features brightened up in a way which she had not observed when he was speaking to any one else. She could not be mistaken with regard to his manner towards her, for she was confident, noble and honourable as he was, he would not trifle with her feelings.

"Harry ought, indeed, to have told me this before," she said with a sigh. "It is now too late. If Headland really loves me, and I am sure he does, I cannot be mistaken. If he proposes to me I must not leave him to suppose that I am indifferent to his love."

During the morning Miss Castleton did not appear, and many enquiries were made. General Sampson especially was very anxious to know what had become of her, and having his suspicions, was not satisfied that they might not possibly be correct till Captain Headland came in alone, and, when asked, assured him that he had not seen Miss Castleton since the morning.

"Ah! I thought, captain, that she might have put your nautical experience into requisition, and employed you in rowing the boat on the lake."

"No," said Headland, "I hope to have the pleasure of being employed in that way in the afternoon, and I shall be glad if any other lady will trust herself to my pilotage."

Harry, in the meantime, recollecting that he had promised to pay the Miss Pembertons a visit, ordered his horse, and took the road to Hurlston.

As he approached the village, having never been at Downside, he thought he would first call at Adam Halliburt's cottage and enquire the way. The cottage, from its remarkable structure, he remembered well.

Calling to a boy to take care of his horse, he dismounted and knocked at the door. The dame opened it.

"This is an honour, Mr Harry," she said, begging him to enter, with a look of pleased surprise on her countenance. "To think that now you are a grand officer you have come to see poor folks like us," she continued, dusting a chair, while Adam in his frank, hearty way held out his hand to welcome his guest. He would probably have done the same had the king come to his cottage.

"To tell you the truth, I am on my way to Downside, and thought I would call here first to enquire the road," said Harry. "I hope you and your daughter were not tired by walking about so much yesterday at the fete."

"Thank you, Mr Harry, not a bit; besides, as our May didn't dance she hadn't so much cause to be tired as most of the young people had."

"She looks somewhat delicate, and ill able to go through what many girls would think nothing of," observed Harry, for he wished to get the dame to talk about her daughter.

"Bless you, she is strong and hearty as she ever was, and some time ago when both the ladies were ill, she sat up night after night watching them, and was none the worse for it, and fine weather or foul she goes about the village for that matter all the year round, visiting the poor and sick when the Miss Pembertons cannot go to them," and the good dame ran on expatiating on her favourite theme—the praises of May.

Harry was somewhat surprised to hear her speak in such unmeasured terms of her daughter's good qualities.

"The worthy woman naturally appreciates her daughter, and in her honest pride feels that she can never speak too highly of her," he thought.

While she was speaking the door opened, and May entered, looking bright and blooming as usual, and Harry thought her even more lovely than the day before. She started, and the colour rose slightly to her cheeks, as she saw him. She evidently did not expect to find a visitor.

Harry naturally enquired if she had enjoyed the fete.

"Yes. She had been amused at all events," she answered with a smile. "And it was a pleasure to be able afterwards to describe it to the Miss Pembertons. I mentioned meeting you, sir," she added, "and they look forward to seeing you before long."

Harry of course said he was on his way to pay his respects to his cousins, but being uncertain as to their house, had called at her father's to enquire which it was.

"Our May will be able to show it to you, Mr Harry," said the dame. "She seldom likes to be long away from the ladies, and I suppose will soon be going back there."

May hesitated. She did not look upon Mr Castleton as a stranger, but she naturally felt a degree of timidity at the thoughts of walking with him alone. When, however, she looked up into his frank open countenance, after he had sat talking for some time, the feeling vanished.

He told Adam how well he recollected his trip in the Nancy, and declared that even now he should like to take another. Then he remembered the little blue-eyed girl he had seen rush into Adam's arms, utterly regardless of his wet clothes.

Maiden May smiled.

"I remember that I was dreadfully frightened at seeing the boat coming in, thinking you would all be lost."

She was about to make another remark, which would possibly have greatly puzzled Harry, when looking up at the clock, she exclaimed—

"I had no idea it had been so late. I got leave to run down and see you for a few minutes, mother, and ought to have been back again by this time."

Harry instantly rose.

"I hope that I have not detained you; but if you will kindly, as your mother proposes, show me the Miss Pembertons' house, I shall be grateful to you."

May replied that she should be happy to do so, and Harry wishing the fisherman and his wife good-bye, went to look for the boy who had charge of his horse. May, stopping to say a few words to the dame, came out by the time he had returned to the door of the cottage.

Harry, instead of mounting, taking the rein in his hand, walked by her side.

The subject of their conversation might seem commonplace, though perhaps it was interesting to themselves. Harry was at length led to speak of some of his adventures at sea, from a question May had asked him, and on mentioning one of the battles in which he was engaged, he was surprised to find that his companion was thoroughly well acquainted with the details as well as with all the events which had lately taken place. During the walk Harry could not accuse himself of having said anything which could have been construed into making love to the fisherman's fair daughter.

On reaching Downside May went into the house to send for the gardener to hold his horse, and to announce his visit. The two ladies came to the door to welcome him.

"I should have known you by your voice," said Miss Mary, taking his hand, "though you have grown from a boy into a man since we met you last. But there is something I discern in a voice which never alters: yours is the tone I like to hear."

"We must not flatter Harry, and I do not do it," observed Miss Jane. "I see the same expression in his countenance which won my regard when he was a midshipman. You recollect him, May, do you not?"

"I recognised Mr Castleton at once yesterday," said May without hesitation. "I should have been ungrateful had I not," and May turned her blue eyes towards the young officer.

His met them, and, strange to say, May speedily withdrew hers, while a slight blush rose on her cheeks.

"I am indebted to Miss Halliburt for finding my way here so easily," observed Harry, "for I have never been in this part of Hurlston before, and did not know where your cottage was situated. What a beautiful spot it is. If I ever settle on shore, it is the sort of place I should like, with just that peep through the trees to remind me of the ocean which I have been wont to live on. Perhaps if peace lasts I shall be compelled to take up my abode on shore."

"Grant that it may," said Miss Jane. "I should think the nations of Europe must be sick of the fearful strife which has raged so long, and will be very unwilling to recommence it."

"Things do not look much like it," answered Harry. "The First Consul has shown no great love for peace; and as I wish to obtain my promotion, I confess that I should like to have a little more fighting before long."

"I suppose that is but a natural wish for you to entertain," observed Miss Jane with a sigh. "Yet I would that you saw the case in a different light, and might thus be led to reflect how contrary is the love of fighting to the religion of mercy and peace which we profess. And even though I acknowledge that fighting may be necessary for the defence of one's country, we should mourn the stern necessity which compels men to engage in it."

Harry had no wish to dispute the point with his cousins, although perhaps he did not quite enter into their views on the subject.

He gladly accepted their invitation to remain to luncheon. As he watched May attending to Miss Mary, he could not help remarking how lady-like and graceful was every movement she made; he could scarcely believe that she had been born and bred in a fisherman's cottage, for honest and worthy as Adam and his wife appeared, they were plain and blunt in their manners, though the dame was in some respects certainly above her class.

"We must show you the grounds," said Miss Jane, when luncheon was over, "if you are not in a hurry to return home."

Harry was sure he should not be missed at Texford, and would very much like to see their garden.

The ladies got their bonnets and shawls and went out, May leading Miss Mary.

"Our dear May has quite spoilt me," observed the blind lady. "Instead of letting me learn to grope my way about, she always insists on my taking her arm, so that I can step out without fear of falling over anything in the path."

May looked affectionately at Miss Mary, as if she felt the duty was one in which she delighted.

They had just left the house when a girl came running up, saying that her mother was ill, and would be grateful if Miss Jane would come down and visit her.

"I must go at once, Mary," she said, "and leave you and May to do the honours to Harry. I daresay I shall be back before you go," she added, turning to him, "as the cottage is not far off."

Harry begged her not to hurry.

The grounds, though not extensive, were very pretty, for the Miss Pembertons had done much to improve them since their arrival. There was a lawn on the garden side of the house, with a number of flower beds and shrubberies and walks, and here and there seats, with a rustic arbour covered with creepers. At the further end of the grounds, where a spring of water bubbling up formed a pool surrounded by rocks, over which moisture-loving plants had been taught to creep, was a grotto, artificially constructed of masses of rock. Miss Mary called Harry's attention to it, as she and her sister were very proud of the work, it having been formed under their directions, and she begged him especially to admire some figures formed with shells, a few only of which were finished, though they intended that the whole of the interior should be ornamented in the same style.

"This is just the sort of thing I should like to work at," exclaimed Harry. "It should be a thoroughly marine grotto. I see that there is a covey of flying fish already finished. You might have Neptune and his car and attendant tritons at the further end, dolphins and swordfish and other inhabitants of the sea on either side. I must compliment the artist who executed those flying fish. They are most natural."

"Here she is, then, to hear your praises," said Miss Mary. "But we shall be very glad if you will come and assist, as you take an interest in the sort of thing, as I am afraid that otherwise it will be a long time before it is completed."

"I shall be very glad to be of use and to serve under Miss Halliburt, for she has made so admirable a beginning that she must remain director of the works. Will you accept my services?" he asked, looking at May.

"I cannot refuse them when they are so frankly offered," she said, looking up somewhat timidly as she spoke; "though I must leave the Miss Pembertons to decide who is to be director."

As some baskets of shells and cement for sticking them on were in the grotto, Harry, with May's assistance, tried his skill and produced a very creditable flying fish in addition to the covey she had commenced.

"I am very certain I could not have produced the result had I not had your model to copy from," said Harry.

Miss Mary seemed as much interested as if she could have seen the designs, and May and Harry worked on till Miss Jane returned, apologising to him for her long delay. He thought she had been absent only a few minutes, and was quite surprised to find that an hour or more had passed away.

They had still some portion of the grounds to visit, and on their return to the house he was surprised to find, on looking at a clock in the hall, that he had barely time to gallop back to Texford and to dress for dinner.



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

MILES GAFFIN'S PROPOSAL.

Jacob had been at work on board the Nancy when he found that it was time to return home for dinner. He caught sight, as he approached the cottage, of May, as she and Harry Castleton were setting off on their way to Downside.

"Who can that be?" he thought, a strange feeling oppressing his heart. "It is not that scoundrel young Gaffin. No, no, she would not walk so quietly alongside him; but I don't like it, that I don't, though, as far as she is concerned, it's all right; she would not do what is wrong, I am sure of that, and mother must know all about it."

Jacob watched May and Harry as long as they were in sight, and then something like a groan broke from his bosom. After some time he entered the cottage. The information he gained from his mother did not make him much happier, for he could not believe that a young man such as his mother described Mr Harry could see May without falling in love with her; and if so! Poor Jacob groaned as he thought of what might be the consequence. He mechanically hurried over his dinner without appetite, and then, taking a basket, went off to the beach to collect some more shells, and to fetch some which he had deputed some fisher-boys living at a considerable distance along the coast to obtain for him. He felt more downcast than he had ever been in his life as he now began to realise the wide distance which existed between himself and May.

"Of course she is just like an angel of light to a poor rough chap like me; yet I love the very ground she treads on," he murmured to himself, as he went on. "There's not anything I would not do if she was to ask me, yet if I was to tell her so, I don't know what she would say; it would not make her angry, it would frighten her though, I am afraid, and maybe she would be very sorry, and tell me I must not think of such a thing. Of course she would. I wish I had never been born," and Jacob felt as if he could have thrown himself down on the sand and cried his big, honest heart out. Though the struggle was a rough one, he overcame his feelings for the moment, and trudged on.

"I said I would get some shells for her and the ladies, and I will; and if I do but have a sight of her but for a moment it is recompense enough."

Jacob went on collecting shells on the way, till he reached the furthest point to which he intended to go, where he met the lads who had collected a good supply. He was returning pretty heavily laden under the cliffs when, weary with his walk, he sat down on a bank of sand thrown up by the tide, placing his basket by his side. Thoughts such as seldom troubled him were passing through his mind when he saw a man approaching him from the direction of Hurlston. As the stranger drew near he recognised Miles Gaffin.

The miller coming up to him slapped him on the shoulder and sat down close to him, and in the frank hearty tone he often assumed, said—

"How fares it with you, Jacob? Why, lad, you look somewhat out of sorts."

"Do I, Mr Gaffin? It's more than I wish to do then," answered Jacob, who had no desire to enter into conversation with the miller.

"Perhaps I know the reason why you are not as happy as you would wish to be," said Gaffin, fixing his eyes on the young man's face. "There is a pretty girl in the case whom you thought you would like to make your wife."

"Every man's thoughts are his own, Mr Gaffin," answered Jacob, "and I do not see how you can know mine more than I can know yours."

Miles Gaffin laughed, not pleasantly.

"The old can read the thoughts of the young better than you may think. Now, lad, I tell you that you are following a will-o'-the-wisp if you ever think to make the girl your father saved from the wreck your wife. She would laugh you to scorn if you breathed such a notion in her ear, and tell you to go and drown yourself, or be off to foreign lands so that she might never set eyes on you again. Don't I say what is true, lad?"

In spite of his resolution a groan escaped Jacob's breast.

"I thought so," continued his tormentor. "Now, Jacob, I have known you from a boy, and I will be frank with you. You fancy that I want my son to succeed where you are certain to fail, but I have no such notion in my head, though there is a difference, you will allow, between him and you. I don't, however, guide the young man's proceedings, or pretend to dictate to him, he is old enough and clever enough to act for himself; and I want it to be understood that I have nothing to do with his movements. You will mention that if you have the opportunity. And now, my honest Jacob, if you are disposed for a trip to sea just let me know, and I will give you a chance which will suit your taste, I have a notion, and fill your pockets with gold. I know I can trust you, so I can say to you what I would not to others. Are you inclined for a trip on board the Lively? There is a berth for you if you are. Whatever way you may think she is employed, I can tell you that she carries a commission as good as any of the king's cruisers, though I do not pretend to say that in peace time she does not engage in a little free trade occasionally, yet that is not the business which I am employed on."

Miles had laid his hand on Jacob's arm so as to prevent him rising, which he showed an intention of doing.

"Do you wish to be convinced, lad? Look here, I know you can read," and Gaffin drew from his pocket a paper signed by Mr Pitt desiring any naval officers or others, who might fall in with Miles Gaffin, the bearer, not to interfere with him, he being engaged in the secret service of His Majesty's Government.

Jacob read the paper, and though he did not very clearly comprehend its meaning, it made him feel a greater fear, if not respect, for the bearer than he had before entertained.

Gaffin might possibly have shown one from the First Consul of France, of the same description, had he been disposed, but that was kept for use on the other side of the Channel. He was not the only person so employed at that time by the rival powers, to whom it was of the greatest importance to obtain information of each others preparations.

"You see, my friend, that I invite you to engage in the service of your country. We want a few fresh steady hands, and if you know any lads who would like to accompany you, your recommendation will be in their favour."

At no time could Gaffin have made such a proposition with a better prospect of success. Still the honest fellow was far from trusting his tempter. He knew well enough that whatever Gaffin might say to the contrary, the Lively was engaged in smuggling, though she certainly had escaped capture in a wonderful way, which was perhaps now partly accounted for. His father had always set his face against contraband traders, and had warned his sons never to have anything to do with them. But there was another motive influencing him still more; May was in danger of being insulted by the son of the very man who was trying to persuade him to leave home. She might scorn him, but he would stop near her to watch over her safety. He would never leave his father and mother either without their sanction.

Gaffin, not aware of the thoughts which were passing through his mind, watched him for some minutes without speaking.

"Well, my lad, what do you say to my offer?" he at length asked. "That I am not going to leave my old father and mother whatever you or any other man may say to me, Mr Gaffin," answered Jacob, putting his arm through the handle of his basket and rising. "Good evening to you." He walked on.

Gaffin after sitting for a moment, somewhat taken aback, followed him. "Come, think of my offer, lad, I wish you well. I have no reason to do otherwise," he said in his most insinuating tone.

"It's no use your wasting words on me, Mr Gaffin; if you are going to the south'ard you had better go—I am homeward-bound."

"That was not a civil remark, my lad; but I will overlook it, and perhaps you will think better of the matter."

"I can't think better of a bad matter, Mr Gaffin," answered Jacob, firmly, hurrying on.

The smuggler folded his arms and stood watching the young man as he trudged sturdily over the sands. "I will win him over yet, though his father may be too obstinate to move," he muttered to himself as he made his way up the cliff to the mill.

Jacob carried his basket of shells to Downside and deposited them with Susan, for the ladies were at tea, and they did not hear of his coming. She spoke of the visit Mr Harry Castleton had just paid.

"Such a nice gentleman," she observed. "The ladies kept him here all the afternoon helping Miss May to work at the grotto. And I have a notion that he was very well pleased to be so employed. I should not be surprised but what he will be back here again before long," she added.

Jacob did not stop to hear more, but, emptying his basket of shells, hurried home. What he had heard did not contribute to raise his spirits. He at once told his father of his meeting with Miles Gaffin.

"If you care for me or for your own happiness, don't have anything to say to him," said Adam, earnestly. "He bears none of us any love, and depend on't he means mischief."



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

MAKING THE GROTTO.

Harry had paid several visits to Downside. The old ladies welcomed him cordially, and were much pleased at the interest he took in their grotto.

"It got on rapidly," they observed, with the assistance he so kindly gave May. She received him as a relative of the ladies without supposing that had she not been his fellow-labourer he might not have taken so great an interest in the work. Frequently Miss Jane and Miss Mary were present, but sometimes they sent May and Harry by themselves, and only followed when at leisure. Those moments were very delightful to the young people. They did not perhaps hurry on with the grotto as fast as they might otherwise have done, and when the ladies arrived they had not always made much progress. Yet Harry believed that he said nothing to May which he would not have been willing for his cousins to hear, and probably had he been accused of making love to the fisherman's daughter, he would indignantly have denied that he was doing so. She did not stop to enquire why she felt unusually dull when he did not come, or why her ear was so eagerly on the watch for the sound of his horse's hoofs at the hour he generally arrived.

Every day Harry fancied that he had discovered new graces in her mind, and the slight degree of rusticity which he might have first detected when he compared her with his sister Julia, had entirely worn off. In person he thought her faultless.

Harry was anxious that his mother and sister should see May without knowing who she was—he was sure that the Miss Pembertons would be pleased at receiving a visit from them, and he was in hopes that he might be able to induce them to call without showing his anxiety that they would do so. He made no secret at home of his visits to Downside, observing that the Miss Pembertons had employed him to ornament a shell grotto for them, and as he hated to be idle, he was very glad to find employment suited to his taste, and at the same time to do anything to please the kind old ladies.

Sir Ralph had been called to London on political business, and was likely to remain some time away. Most of the visitors had left Texford. Those who remained were able to amuse themselves, and did not require the attention of their host and hostess. Captain Headland, being looked upon as Harry's guest, was quite independent. Lady Castleton was therefore more at liberty than she had been for some time.

"By-the-bye, mother, you should drive over some day and call on our cousins, and see the grotto. They will be much pleased, I am sure, with the visit, and will be delighted to show you over the garden, which is a perfect gem in its way."