n."

"That is where I came to offer my help. The Assizes are not over.
The same judge who committed him has been delayed there for three days by
a _nisi prius_ suit--an endless West Cornwall will case."

"You did not suppose, surely, that this was happening with any consent of
mine?"

"No," Sir George answered slowly, "I did not. But do you know, Lady
Killiow, that, without any consent of ours, you and I have nearly been in
litigation over this same wretched ferry?" He smiled at her surprise.
"Oh, yes, I could help the Radicals to make out a very good case against
us!"

"I learned to trust my old steward. It seems that I have carried over my
trust too carelessly to this son of his, and with the less excuse because
I dislike the man. The fact is, I am getting old."

"May I say humbly that you defend yourself before a far worse sinner in
these matters? And may I say, too, that your care for Damelioc and its
tenantry has always been quoted in my hearing as exemplary?"

"I am not defending myself. I have been to blame, though," she added with
a twinkle, "I do not propose to confess this to my steward. I have been
bitterly to blame, and my first business at Bodmin will be to ask this old
man's pardon."

"And after?"

"He must be released, and at once. Can this be done by withdrawing the
suit? or must there be delays?"

"He must purge his offence, I fear, unless you can persuade the judge to
reconsider it. If I can help you in this, I would beg for the privilege."

"Thank you, my friend. I was on the point of asking what you offer.
You had best leave your horse here and take a seat in my carriage."

"But," said Sir George, as she moved to the door, "you have not yet told
me how you learned the news--who was beforehand with me."

"You shall see." She crossed the corridor, and softly opening a door,
invited him to look within. There, in the lofty panelled breakfast-room,
at a table reflected as a small white island in a sea of polished floor,
sat Myra and Clem replete and laughing, unembarrassed by the splendid
footman who waited on them, and reckless that the huge bunch of grapes at
which they pulled was of December's growing.

Sir George laughed too as he looked. "But, good heavens!" said he,
remembering the footprints on the drive, "they must have left home before
daylight!"

"They started in the dead of night, so far as I can gather. Eh? What is
it?" she asked, turning upon another footman,