e same red seals that I had admired the previous
evening. He placed it slowly in his inside pocket, and tossed the book
on the floor.

"Now here's a pretty kettle of fish," said Mr. Aiken.

My father was watching me thoughtfully.

"Take your hands off him, Brutus," he said, "and bring out the horse."

For a second longer we stood motionless, each watching the other. Then my
father crossed to the long table near which I was standing, picked up the
pistols that Brutus had left there, and slipped them into his capacious
side pockets.

"You disappoint me, Henry," he remarked. "You should have used
those pistols."

"I had thought of them," I answered.

"I am glad of that," he said. "It is a relief to know you did not
overlook them. You were right, Mademoiselle. I should have known better
than to treat him so. We have ceased to play the game, my son. It only
remains to take my leave. I shall not trouble you again."

He was standing close beside me. Was it possible his eyes were a little
wistful, and his voice a trifle sad?

"I thought I should be glad to leave you," he said, "and somehow I am
sorry. Odd that we can never properly gauge our emotions. I feel that you
will be a very blithe and active gentleman in time, and there are not so
many left in these drab days. Ah, well--"

His sword was lying on the table. He drew it, and tucked the naked blade
under his arm. In spite of the two candles which Brutus had left, the
shadows had closed about us, so that his figure alone remained distinct
in the yellow light, slender and carelessly elegant. I think it pleased
him to have us all three watching. Any gathering, however small, that he
might dominate, appeared to give him enjoyment--his leave taking not less
than the others.

"It is growing dark, Mr. Aiken," he observed, "and our position is not
without its drawbacks. Call in the men from outside, and take them aboard
and give them a measure of rum. No one will disturb me before I leave, I
think. You had better weigh at once, and never mind your running lights
till it is time for them."

"So you're going to do it," said Mr. Aiken. "I might have known you
wouldn't listen to reason."

"You should have sailed with me long enough," said my father, "to know I
never do."

"And you not even dressed for it," added Mr. Aiken. "You might be going
to a party, so you might."

"I think," replied my father, "the evening will be more interesting than
a purely social affair.