The Disentanglers

inds, are bound for that haven. When Logan arrived at the station, a bowery, flowery, amateur-looking depot, like one of the 'model villages' that we sometimes see off the stage, he was met b

s warm, and the woodland path by the river was coo

far below. Now and then a heron poised, or a rock pigeon flew by, between the river and the cliff-top. The opposite bank was embower

the old French poet Pontus de Tyard reports to us, and to be going back, not forward, in age. He looked very neat, slim, and cool, but that could not be the only cause of the miracle of rejuvenescence. Closely regarding his host in profile, Logan

e mornings she and I are busy with the manuscripts. We have found most interesting things. When their plot failed, your ancestor and mine prepared a ship to start for the Western seas and att

the Earl advanced, the less, if possible, they saw of the pair in front of

or Miss Willoughby's courage and industry through the

ms most happily arranged, except so far as the religious difficulty goes. As for Father Riccoboni, he is a quiet intelligen

ble, surrounded by dogs-two collies and an Aberdeenshire terrier. Beside her were Father Riccoboni, with a newspaper in his hand, Lady Alice, with whom Logan had already some acquaintance, and the Prince of Scalastr

and winning expression. The Prince was of a Teutonic fairness; for the Royal caste, whatever the nationality, is to a great extent made in Germany, and retains the physical characteristics of that a

call him a sensual-looking man, still less was he a noisy humourist; but he had a considerable jowl, a strong jaw, a wide, firm mouth, and large teeth, very white and square. Logan thought that he, too, had the makings of a soldier, and also felt almost certain that he had seen him before. But where?-for Logan's acquaintance with the clergy,

and stopping there, about forty yards away, they piped, while a girl, in the usual contadina dress, clashed her cymbals and danced not ungracefully. The Father, who either did not like music or did not like it of that sort, sighed, rose from his seat, and went into the house by an open French window. The Prince also rose, but he went forward to the

Prince, 'tramping north to Sc

he pipers,' said Logan, while the Earl ro

'but when I hear them in a London street my hea

ces of these poor sons of the South among-well, your English f

every rule has its exceptions. The young people rose and wandered off on the lawn, whil

to them a little in their own lingo,' he added, 'though he d

sch districts,' Logan said;

said the Earl. 'Do you understand this house,

ian, surely?

t that there is any secret about them-and odd cubicles, in the old Border keep, which was re-faced about 1750; and we have a priest's hole or two, in which Father Riccoboni might have been

f the best,' said Logan, 'but this is "soolky July,

ton. 'They begin to feed about ten o'clock at night

ard?' ask

in the dark. I used to be fond of it, but age,' sighed the Ea

'I often fished Tweed and Whitadder, at night,

d the Coquet is so dangerous. The flat sandstone ledges are like the floor of a room, and then a step may land you in

hat he liked, of all things, to be by a darkling river, where you came

inch of the water, and will go with him. Fenwick is the water-keeper, Mr. Logan, and represents man in t

t was in Galloway. He hated shooting, he hated fishing. My

,' said the Earl. 'I daresay y

egais, while a few empty figures in tilting armour, lance in hand, stood on pedestals. Thence up a broad staircase, along a little galle

at threw strange blue reflections, softer than sapphire, on th

Charles's service,' said the Earl, with a sigh, 'bu

uit, and next him, Scremerston, beside whom was Miss Willoughby, on the Earl's right. Inevitably the conversation of the Prince and Lady Alice was mainly directed to each other-so much so that Logan did not once perceive the princely eyes attracted to Miss Willoughby opposite to him, though it was not easy for another to look at anyone else. Logan, in the pauses of his rather conventional entertainment by Lady Mary, did l

nly laughed sufficiently at what Miss Willoughby said, who also managed to entertain the Earl with great dexterity and aplomb. Meanwhile Logan and the Jesuit amused the excellent Lady Mary as best they might, which was not saying much. Lady Mary, though extremely amiable, was far from brilliant, and never having met a Jesuit before, she regarded Father Riccoboni with a certain hereditary h

ogan; 'I don't know anything prettier than to see the li

all belong to that dreadfu

esuit. 'And do not all your Irish reapers belong to

and said, with some presence of mind, 'paupers, I fear, but they

little-naturam expellas furca, Mr. Logan, but the knife is a different thing-it is

be outdone in classical felicities; and, indeed,

e on the arm of the Earl's chair, leaped down and sprang affectionately on the shoulder of the Jesuit. He

all I send the animal out of the room? I know some people cannot endure a cat,' and he

n extraordinary instinct for caressing people who happen to be born with exactly

, who was stroking Meriamoun. 'Are you afraid of cats, Lor

anner of flying things that bu

rding Valour with a smile and a glance so dazzling

ght Logan. 'I don't l

can explain it. I wonder how they would work it out in Scien

ng,' said the Jesuit demurely,

only everybody has tried stroking a cat in the dark to see the sparks fly, and who e

e idea was new to her, and she wo

book. I daresay horses do, only nobody tries. I don't think ele

ing-love, faith, everything,' remarked the Jesuit

timents, felt more friendly towards Father Riccob

aid Miss Willoughby, and the two other ladies admi

noise, either by shutting the door, or leaving it wide open. I am a sound sleeper, but, if a door bangs, it wakens me at once. I try not to notice it. I hope it will leave off. Then it does

d stopped, thinking better of it, and not f

ce ended; and Logan reminded the Society of the Bravest of

e the white dress of Lady Alice flitted ghost-like on the lawn, and the tip of the Prince's cigar burned red in the neighbourhood. In the drawing-room Lady Mary was tentatively conversing with the Jesuit, t

Scremerston at that moment. 'I know the face-I k

can't place him. What do you think of a game of billiards, father?' he aske

you may call me Rosamond. I have never had an

with a gulp, 'is getting on wo

etter acquainted, he said, with the foreign game. The late Pope used to play, he said, nearly as well as Mr. Herbert Spencer. Even for a beginner, Miss Willoughby was not a brilliant player; but she did not cut the cloth, and her arms were remar

Willoughby's family is all right, but the girl is reckless. A demon has entered into her: she used to be so quiet. I'd rather marry Miss Bangs without the dollars. Then it is all very well for Scremerston to yield to Venus Verticordia, and transfer his heart to this new enchantress. But, if I am not mistaken, the Earl himself is much m

fell asleep, but he recovered no glea

ey talked about fish and examined local flies, and Logan arranged to go and try the trout with the bustard some night; and then they pottered about, and ate cherries in the garden, and finally the Earl found them half asleep in the smoking-room. He routed the Jesuit out of the libra

ces. The priests' holes had offered to the persecuted clergy of old times the choice between being grilled erect behind a chimney, or of lying flat in a chamber about the s

with his glance without raising his head, a memory for a fraction of a moment seemed to float towards the surface of Logan's consciousness. Even as when an angler, having hooked a salmon, a monster of the stream, long the fish bores down impetuous, seeking the sunken rocks,

e for a man to do in the country. Logan sat and mused. Looking up he saw Miss Willoughby approaching, twirling an open parasol on her shoulder. Her face was radiant; of old it h

, Mr. Logan, and cocoa pour tou

rtainly all that heart

dreamed of being a butterfly, as the man said in the sermon; and I fe

e the sportsman in Keats's Grecian Urn: "

n,' said Miss Willoughby. 'Don't

me-a tribute to her charms-borne

ed Logan. 'But, indeed, as to her being here, I sh

Willoughby's grey eyes for a moment,

for me, Mr. Logan; and if it were otherwise, do you disapprove of the proceedings of your own Society? But there is Lord Scremerston calling

ve of the proceedings of his Society as exemplified by Miss Willoughby, and he was nearly guilty of falling asleep during the drive

However deep in love a man may be, he does not like to see a fair lady con

ccoboni did not conceal from Lady Mary the me

?' he murmured. 'When shall Engl

nt-looking mossy walls, thought Lady Mary, whose ideas on this matter were derived from a scene in the poem of Marmion. And deep in Lady Mary's heart was a half-fo

Earl had fallen asleep in the drawing-room, and Logan took a lonely stroll, much regretting that he had come to a house where he felt decidedly 'out of it.' He wandered down to the river, and stood watching. He was beside the dark-brow

it. I shall tell Merton that I have moral objections to the whole affair. Miserable, mercenary fraud!' Thus, feeling very moral and discontented,

iring to the muniment-room, the lovers vanishing among the walks. Scremerston later

are about as tall as yourself, and as stout as lance-shafts. They are for ste

ed to the smoking-room. Scremerston took up a novel, which he

'if your letter is not very important, I

Fire away,' he said;

ude of deep dejection. Loga

e most miserabl

seem rather in-and-out in

see, I can't help thinking that-that-I have rather committed myself-it seems

isitive, but is she in t

e's at

r? Have you said any

ot like it. I hoped

en anything? Do

afraid I have

fitted to express with magnetic force the language

nged your mind, if yo

not love her?' said Scremerston, with a vagueness

ld furnish, at first hand, an exception

engaged, could see her without loving her; but I tho

icity. He went on: 'Then there's my father-you know him. He was against the other affair, but, if he thinks I have committed myself and then want to back out, why, with his id

no more committed than I am. You would only make both of you wretched if you went and committed yourself now, when you don't want to do it. In your position I would certainly sit tight: don't commit yourself-either here or there, so to

ston. 'Sorry to have bored you,

*

ter. That kind of worry comes of keeping things to oneself, till mol

rston, but he did not seem ver

e and the keeper emerged from the wood on the level of the lawn. All the great mass of the house lay dark before them. Logan was to let himself in by the locked French window; for it was very late-about two in the morning. He had the key of the window-door in his pocket.

r was open. What Logan saw was a writhing group-the Prince of Scalastro struggling in the arms of three men: a long white heap lay crumpled in a corner. Fenwick, at this moment, threw the landing-net over the head of one of the Prince's assailants, and with a twist, held the man half choked and powerless. Fenwick went on twisting, and, with the leverage of the long shaft of the net, dragged the wretch off the Prince, and threw him down. Another of the men turned on Logan with a loud guttural oath, and was raising a pistol. Logan knew the voice at last-knew the Jesuit now. 'Rien ne va plus!

in his night dress: poor

*

arrival at Rookchester, how I hated that sound. I tried not to think of it, and was falling asleep when it banged again-a double knock. I was nearly asleep, when it clashed again. There was no wind, my window was open and I looked out: I only heard

at I saw as I crossed

passage to the glimmer of light through the partly glazed door at the end of it. Then my candle was blown out and three men set on me. They had nearly pinioned me when you and Fenwick took them on both flanks. You know the rest. They had the boat unmoored, a light cart ready on the other side, and a steam-yacht lying off Warkworth. The object, of course, was to

ipers, of cour

, who my confessor (he banged the door,

rd and blue spectacles in the old time, when he raked in a good d

was unfrocked and expelled from Society for all sorts of namable and unnamable offences. His community believed that he was dead. So he fell to the profession

e!' sai

*

rous impulse, now holds high rank in the Japanese ser

y him at the altar looked fainter and more ghostly than the bridegroom. But her dark hour of levity was passed and over. There is no more affectionate pair than the Earl and Countess of Embleton. Lady Mary, who lives with them, is once more an aunt, an

ve been edited by him and the