The Trespasser, Volume 1.

hand in the tail-pocket of the coat he had worn. He drew forth a

n's been! It's face

'm for kicks or ha

rs,

n some trouble, and Mr. Ian had "been," bringing peril. Wh

gain. There was another note-th

u would save us both!

h, Ro

signed

ongs right; but to serve himself, to reap for all those years wherein his father had not reaped. He enjoyed life, and he would search this one to the full of his desires. Be

o bed, his eyes chanced upon

he said, nodding at it. "Shake

andle, and in five min

he stables, and found Jacques pacing the

, Brillon?" he said,

ice of the stable-b

ton's eyes. The "sir" had

hed himself, then? Go

ly. They laugh muc

all, B

t night. That hir

room, B

ell him try the paces. I whisper soft, and the broncho stand like a lamb. He mount, and sneer, and grin at the high pommel, and start. For a minute it was pretty; and then I give a little soft cal

oking innocently before h

l the tricks you can. At ten o'clock com

ugh his long black hair

under

rillon; but the beard and clothes mus

not, however, his cue to pretend knowledge. He was strong enough to admit ignorance. He stood leaning against the door of the kennels, arms folded, eyes half-closed, with the sense of a painter, before the turning bunch of brown and white, getting the charm of distance and soft tones. His blood beat hard, for suddenly he felt as if he had been behind just such

ges, with stiffish streams-another hill-a great combe- a lovely valley stretchi

flowing wigs and immense boot-legs, and sported lace in the hunting-field? And w

am by hearing the huntsman

u like the

urprise, of masterful malice, scathing him from head to foot. The words

your name

ley,

Well, Lugley, I like

is Master of the

Maudsle

satisfied with y

he man in a humble

ght, and, with Whipshire stupidity, he had thought that any one com

throw myself out of a

r! Beg pard

our hounds t

es away with him, leaving the

e, Brillon?" said Gaston. Ja

the grand

me that they are all part of a machine, not the idea behind the machine. They have no invention. Their machine is easy

ighly-cultivated field, men were working. It was cut off in squares and patches. It had an air which struck Gaston as unusual; why, he

nership, of manhood. Gaston was interested. More, he was determined to carry that experiment further, if he ever got the chance. There was no socialism in him. The true barbarian is like the true

k they would be happier on the prairies with a hund

py here all a

lon; for it is all luxury and lush, and they are crumples-crumples! But yet there isn't any use being sorry for them, for they don't grasp anything outside the life they are living. Can't you guess how they live? Look at the doors of the houses shut, and the windows sealed; yet they've been up these three hours! And they'll suck in bad air, and bad

stopped, and

s yesterday afternoon, for good or for bad, for long or for short, for the gods or for the de

annot run I will walk, when I cannot

and Gaston breakfasted alone at half past nine o'clock

William were alone, and he followed his instincts. Once he frankly asked his grandfather of a matter of form, of which he was uncertain the evening before. The thing was done so naturally that the conventional mind of the baronet was not disturbed. The Belwards were notable for their brains, and Sir William saw that the young man had an unusual share. He also felt that this

rs. Gaston frankly said that he wanted to live as his father would have done, and that he had no property, and no

, with, of course, the run of his own stables and their house in to

ir to the title, does not necessarily get the property, which is not e

an artist, I cannot say-I really cannot say. I remember meeting a painter at Lord Dunfolly's,-Dunfolly is a singular fellow-and he struck me chiefly as harmless, distinctly harmless. I could not understand why he was at Dunfolly's, he seemed

n't play fast and loos

ight as a needle." The

t there is something else. I don'

e in me than the res

iam's fingers stroked his beardless c

e got wider standards, and ther

d Sir William fumbled am

my life. I want to start fair and square. I want the honest story of m

and handed them. Sir William read them with a disturbed look, a

iam spok

ay, Robert-with Jock Lawson-determined to rescue a young man from the officers of justice, and to get him out of the country. There were reasons. He was the son of a gentleman; and, as we discovered afterwards, Robert had been too intimate

y Belward's portrait. "Wh

s a paus

burst of anger, flung away from us out of the house. His mother, suddenly repenting, ran to follow him, but fell on the stone steps at the door, and became a cripple for life. At first she remained bitter against Robert, and at

Gaston asked quietly, with the ob

on the night of the intended res

came of

also withi

ere any

-a g

was the

mea

r the lover's?"

not te

is th

that. It can do no g

not m

. If ever there is need to tell you, you shall b

You are right, sir," he said, "quite right.

lliam

the child's father; and I could not ask him, t

almost wish I had known nothing. And yet I will ask on

h, yes, the

m wrote out a cheque and offered it, with a hint of emotion. H

, if I didn't like it, it couldn't hold me, or, if it did, I should probably make things uncomforta

n Sir William let his g

n begin his career as G