ke blandly, as he calmly sat
down in one of the stiff-backed elm chairs beside the hearth, "and why
worthy Mistress Lambert never speaks to you of your parentage."

"Who we both are?" retorted Lambert with obvious bitterness, "two poor
castaways, who, but for the old woman would have been left to starve,
and who have tried, therefore, to be a bit grateful to her, and to earn
an honest livelihood. That is what we are, Sir Marmaduke de Chavasse;
and now prithee tell me, who the devil art thou?"

"You are overfond of swearing, worthy master," quoth Sir Marmaduke
lightly, "'tis sinful so I'm told, for one of your creed. But that is no
matter to me. You are, believe me, somewhat more interesting than you
imagine. Though I doubt if to a Quaker, being heir to title and vast
estates hath more than a fleeting interest."

But the smith had shrugged his broad shoulders and uttered an
exclamation of contempt.

"Title and vast estates?" he said with an ironical laugh. "Nay! Sir
Marmaduke de Chavasse, the bait is passing clumsy. An you wish me to
hold my tongue about you and your affairs, you'll have to be vastly
sharper than that."

"You mistake me, friend smith, I am not endeavoring to purchase your
silence. I hold certain information relating to your parentage. This I
would be willing to impart to a friend, yet loath to do so to an enemy.
A man doth not like to see his enemy in possession of fifteen thousand
pounds a year. Does he?"

And Sir Marmaduke appeared absorbed in the contemplation of his left
shoe, whilst Adam Lambert repeated stupidly and vaguely:

"Fifteen thousand pounds a year? I?"

"Even you, my friend."

This was said so simply, and with such conviction-carrying
certainty--that in spite of himself Lambert's sulkiness vanished. He
drew nearer to Sir Marmaduke, looked down on him silently for a second
or two, then muttered through his teeth:

"You have the proofs?"

"They will be at your service, my choleric friend," replied the other
suavely, "in exchange for your silence."

Adam Lambert drew a chair close to his whilom enemy, sat down opposite
to him, with elbows resting on his knee, his clenched fists supporting
his chin, and his eyes--anxious, eager, glowing, fixed resolutely on de
Chavasse.

"I'll hold my tongue, never fear," he said curtly. "Show me the proofs."

Sir Marmaduke gave a pleasant little laugh.

"Not so fast, my friend," he said, "I do not carry such important papers
about in my b