secretary having placed the candles on a table, where Sir
Gervaise took a chair, and had already broken a seal. The process of
reading, nevertheless, was suddenly interrupted by the vice-admiral's
looking up, and exclaiming--

"Why, you are not about to leave us, Bluewater?"

"You may have private business with Mr. Atwood, Sir Gervaise, and
perhaps I had better retire."

Now, it so happened that while Sir Gervaise Oakes had never, by look or
syllable, as he confidently believed, betrayed the secret of his
friend's Jacobite propensities, Atwood was perfectly aware of their
existence. Nor had the latter obtained his knowledge by any unworthy
means. He had been neither an eavesdropper, nor an inquirer into private
communications, as so often happens around the persons of men in high
trusts; all his knowledge having been obtained through native sagacity
and unavoidable opportunities. On the present occasion, the secretary,
with the tact of a man of experience, felt that his presence might be
dispensed with; and he cut short the discussion between the two
admirals, by a very timely remark of his own.

"I have left the letters uncopied, Sir Gervaise," he said, "and will go
and finish them. A message by Locker"--this was Sir Gervaise's
body-servant--"will bring me back at a moment's notice, should you need
me again to-night."

"That Atwood has a surprising instinct, for a Scotchman!" exclaimed the
vice-admiral, as soon as the door was closed on the secretary. "He not
only knows when he _is_ wanted, but when he is _not_ wanted. The last is
an extraordinary attainment, for one of his nation."

"And one that an Englishman may do well to emulate," returned Bluewater.
"It is possible my company may be dispensed with, also, just at this
important moment."

"You are not so much afraid of the Hanoverians, Dick, as to run away
from their hand-writing, are ye? Ha--what's this?--As I live, a packet
for yourself, and directed to 'Rear-Admiral Sir Richard Bluewater, K.B.'
By the Lord, my old boy, they've given you the red riband at last! This
is an honour well earned, and which may be fitly worn."

"'Tis rather unexpected, I must own. The letter, however, cannot be
addressed to me, as I am not a Knight of the Bath."

"This is rank nonsense. Open the packet, at once, or I will do it for
you. Are there two Dick Bluewaters in the world, or another rear-admiral
of the same name?"

"I would rather not receive a letter that does not