f patriots and
heroes, of causes nobly won, of poverty and obscurity gloriously
endured.

Mistress de Chavasse with a sigh half of regret, half of indifference,
finally turned her back on the moonlit garden and went within.

CHAPTER IX

SECRET SERVICE

Master Hymn-of-Praise Busy was excessively perturbed. Matters at the
Court were taking a curious turn. That something of unusual moment had
happened within the last few days he was thoroughly convinced, and still
having it in his mind that he was especially qualified for the lucrative
appointments in my Lord Protector's secret service--he thought this an
excellent opportunity for perfecting himself in the art of
investigation, shrewdly conducted, which he understood to be most
essential for the due fulfillment of such appointments.

Thus we see him some few days later on a late afternoon, with back bent
nearly double, eyes fixed steadily on the ground and his face a perfect
mirror of thoughtful concentration within, slowly walking along the tiny
footpath which wound in and out the groups of majestic elms in the park.

Musing and meditating, at times uttering strange and enigmatical
exclamations, he reached the confines of the private grounds, the spot
where the surrounding wall gave place to a low iron gate, where the
disused pavilion stood out gray and forlorn-looking in the midst of the
soft green of the trees, and where through the woods beyond the gate,
could just be perceived the tiny light which issued from the
blacksmith's cottage, the most outlying one in the village of Acol.

Master Hymn-of-Praise leaned thoughtfully against the ivy-covered wall.
His eyes, roaming, searching, restless, pried all around him.

"Footprints!" he mused, "footprints which of a surety must mean that
human foot hath lately trod this moss. Footprints moreover, which lead
up the steps to the door of that pavilion, wherein to my certain
knowledge, no one hath had access of late."

Something, of course, was going on at Acol Court, that strange and
inexplicable something which he had tried to convey by covert suggestion
to Mistress Charity's female--therefore inferior--brain.

Sir Marmaduke's temper was more sour and ill even than of yore, and
there was still an unpleasant sensation in the lumbar regions of Master
Busy's spine, whenever he sat down, which recalled a somewhat vigorous
outburst of his master's ill-humor.

Mistress de Chavasse went about the house like a cou