on the chest. He is a little man with light eyes; very much like what
his father was before him: but not in the least like his late brother
Sir Lionel, who was a very fine and handsome man. He has a mild,
pleasing countenance: but there arises a slight scowl to his brow as he
turns hastily round at a noisy interruption.

Some one had burst into the room--forgetting, probably, that it was the
quiet room of an invalid. A tall, dark young man, with broad shoulders
and a somewhat peculiar stoop in them. His hair was black, his
complexion sallow; but his features were good. He might have been called
a handsome man, but for a strange, ugly mark upon his cheek. A very
strange-looking mark indeed, quite as large as a pigeon's egg, with what
looked like radii shooting from it on all sides. Some of the villagers,
talking familiarly among themselves, would call it a hedgehog, some
would call it a "porkypine"; but it resembled a star as much as
anything. That is, if you can imagine a black star. The mark was black
as jet; and his pale cheek, and the fact of his possessing no whiskers,
made it all the more conspicuous. He was born with the mark; and his
mother used to say--But that is of no consequence to us. It was
Frederick Massingbird, the present Mrs. Verner's younger son.

"Roy has come up, sir," said he, addressing Mr. Verner. "He says the
Dawsons have turned obstinate and won't go out. They have barricaded the
door, and protest that they'll stay, in spite of him. He wishes to know
if he shall use force."

"No," said Mr. Verner. "I don't like harsh measures, and I will not have
such attempted. Roy knows that."

"Well, sir, he waits your orders. He says there's half the village
collected round Dawson's door. The place is in a regular commotion."

Mr. Verner looked vexed. Of late years he had declined active management
on his estate; and, since he grew ill, he particularly disliked being
disturbed with details.

"Where's Lionel?" he asked in a peevish tone.

"I saw Lionel ride out an hour ago. I don't know where he is gone."

"Tell Roy to let the affair rest until to-morrow, when Lionel will see
about it. And, Frederick, I wish you would remember that a little noise
shakes me: try to come in more quietly. You burst in as if my nerves
were as strong as your own."

Mr. Verner turned to his fire again with an air of relief, glad to have
got rid of the trouble in some way, and Frederick Massingbird proceeded
to what was