above the lane. 66 Occupy till I come, my dear," says Mr Healy, feeling for his sword hilt as he picked up his stride again.

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But his voice, his aspect, recalled to the heroes joyless memories. Oh, curse me," gasped one, and the four turned and fled four different ways.

Beaujeu and Mr Healy flung back their shoulders and checked thudding in the lane. "Sure, they are mighty shy," says Mr Healy panting. Jack Dane, looking after the fugitives, laughed a bitter laugh (so laughs your hero, triumphant over his foes, yet in his tenderest affections wounded sore) and slammed home his sword.

Rose came to the open window white as death, her hand pressed to her heart. "Jack?" she murmured fearfully.

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Jack laughed again. Jack made her a splendid bow. Delila," says he, "goodnight!" and turned on his heel and went out of the garden. He came full face upon Healy and Beaujeu. Gentlemen," says he with another bow in the grand style, "I am your debtor again. It is for the last time."

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"See if he is hurt, Healy," says Beaujeu carelessly, passing on to the garden.

"Zounds, monsieur, you had best go warily there!" cried Jack with a laugh. Beaujeu made him no answer, but Mr Healy, who was regarding Jack with no affection, took him by the arm:

"Now will you be decently quiet?" says he. "In your ecstasies, my friend, you have forgot

your hat.

hat. Will you get it? You are a thought picturesque without it."

"I do not pass that door again, Mr Healy," cried Jack.

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Faith, 'tis cruel to the door. What has come to you now?"

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Why, M. de Beaujeu was right when he warned me against that

"Stop!" cries Mr Healy. ""Tis mighty ill taste to curse what you've tried to kiss, my friend."

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Begad, then, I'll call her the Incomparable. And so she is, and monsieur was right to say she would play me false." Mr Healy looked at him curiously. "I was a fool-a fool!" says the hero in bitter scorn. "She 'ld feign to care for me and I believed her, and there in her room she made a mock of me-till my lady was tired and rang the bell for her master's bullies to come and thrash me."

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Humph!" said Mr Healy, and looked him between the eyes. "Now, did I hear you call her something?"

Jack Dane laughed. His wit was a brilliant memory. "Why yes, Delila, good-night,' said I, and damme, 'twas a fit farewell."

"Delila? Did you say so? Sure then you are Samson himself. Mr Samson, good-night," said Mr Healy sharply, and turned on his heel.

Jack Dane looked after him, puzzled. Then, being in no temper for riddles, strode off to home and Mr Wharton.

CHAPTER XVI

THE SYMPATHY OF M. DE BEAUJEU

M. DE BEAUJEU, breathing a little hard, came past the agitated maids and found the incomparable Charlbury all trembling.

M. de Beaujeu appeared vastly concerned. "Hélas, mademoiselle, I fear I am come at an ill moment," says he. "You are distressed?"

"You-you are welcome, monsieur," Rose stammered, and the blood came surging to her cheeks. She moved unsteadily, and Beaujeu sprang forward and took her hand and led her to a chair.

M. de Beaujeu was now smiling. "Your pardon-but I cannot but see there has been some trouble. Believe me, mademoiselle, I am grieved."

"I thank you, monsieur, I thank you," said Rose, and her trembling hand clung to his, she looked up into his eyes.

Beaujeu drew himself up, a figure most heroical in the sunlight. "Mordieu, but has one done wrong to you, mademoiselle?" he cried. 66 Ah, impossible!

"No. No. It made an end," Rose murmured to herself.

"If you are content all is well," said Beaujeu, and the sneer in his tone made her start, made her gaze at him wide-eyed. Suddenly her eyes

grew brighter. For M. de Beaujeu stood tall in the sunlight, and the white hawk face was clear revealed, and his eyes glittered pale blue. He smiled down upon her, enjoying vastly his hour. "But surely I heard something of offence?" he asked blandly.

There was silence a moment while she gazed intent. Then, "What was it? What did you hear? Tell me!" Her cheeks were white now, her breath came short and quick, her eyes were glowing like dark gold. me! Say it!" she cried.

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"Tell

Bien, you have asked for it." Beaujeu smiled. "What was the title now? Ah, Delila. Thus, dramatically- " he made her a bow and gave the hero's bitter laugh, and cried : Delila, good-night! Monsieur's noble shoulders then shook with inward mirth.

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A little gasping sob broke from her: her hands clenched in her lap: but her dark eyes' gaze was steady and, "Yes, I know that tone," she said, in a low voice. "It is familiar, sir. Six years' past I heard it from— from another Mr Dane." Beaujeu had leant his arm on the mantel, and so brought his face into the shadow. "Ah, need you hide now?" cried Rose scornfully.

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Beaujeu stood up stiffly in the sunlight. Mademoiselle," says he, in his French accent, "I could not guess that you wished to admire me. You flatter me pleasantly. But it appears then you have ill fortune in your friendships?"

The wide intent eyes did not falter at his sneer. "Ay: and I have had trusting friends," said Rose quietly.

"How? Do Do they all doubt you? Ah, infidels."

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'I think you should know-Monsieurde Beaujeu."

"Who, I? Nay, mademoiselle. But why was your first Mr Dane thus discourteous?" 66 Let Mr Dane answer!" cried Rose, flushing.

M. de Beaujeu made a jest. "How?" he cried. "Your incomparable charity has been rejoicing two at once?" He affected to look in search of another gentleman. His pale eyes were sparkling. "But no! Impossible? Certainly this other would be ashamed to be in your presence again." Monsieur's thin lips curled.

Rose gazed at him a moment. Then, "Do you think still that I betrayed you?" she said, in a low voice. "Indeed

M. de Beaujeu flung up a white, protesting hand, and broke in. "To me, why protest? I know you altogether, mademoiselle-incomparable that you are! Mordieu, but these Danes, how suspicious a race. It is beyond all pardon. Forget them, mademoiselle.

"You bid me?" Rose murmured very low. "You bid me then?"

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M. de Beaujeu made an airy gesture. Ah, no! Bid? It is not in my power, my right. I advise it, that is all. Enfin beyond doubt they will come to an evil end, these slanderers.