hould lie in my
power."

'Bias nodded, somewhat mysteriously. "You bet it does: though, as one
might say, it don't lie azackly inside the common. I want a letter
written."

"Yes?"

"It ain't, as you might put it, an ordinary letter either. It's,--well,
in fact, it's a proposal of marriage!"

Mr Benny rubbed the back of his head gently. "I have written quite a
number in my time, Captain Hunken. . . . Is it--if I may put it
delicately--in the first person, sir?"

"She's the first person--" began 'Bias, and came to a halt. "Does that
matter," he asked, "so long as I describe the parties pretty accurate?"

"Not a bit," Mr Benny assured him. "A friend, shall we say?"

"That's right," 'Bias nodded solemnly.

"And the lady?--spinster or widow?"

"Widow."

"Oh!"

"Eh?"

"Nothing. . . . I was considering. One has to collect a few data, you
understand,--in strict confidence, of course. . . . Trade, profession,
or occupation?"

"Whose?"

"Well, your friend's, to start with."

"Is that necessary?"

"It will help us to be persuasive." Seeing that 'Bias still hesitated,
Mr Benny went on. "May I take it, for instance, that one may credit
him, as a friend of yours, with a seafaring past?"

"I do believe," responded 'Bias with a slow smile after regarding Mr
Benny for some seconds, "as you're thinkin' of Cai Hocken?"

Mr Benny laughed. "And yet it would not be so tremendous a guess,--
hey?--seeing what friends you two are."

"It won't do no harm," allowed 'Bias after pondering a while, "if you
took it to be Cai Hocken; though, mind you, I don't say as you're
right."

"That's understood. . . . Now for the lady's occupation?"

"Well . . . you might make it farmin'--for the sake of argument."

"Now I wonder," thought Mr Benny to himself, "_which_ of these two is
lying." Aloud he began, setting pen to paper and repeating as he wrote,
"'_Honoured Madam,_'--you don't think that too cold?"

"Why, are you able to start already?" exclaimed 'Bias in unfeigned
amazement.

"I like to catch an inspiration as it springs to my brain," Mr Benny
assured him. "We'll correct as we go on."

CHAPTER XV.

PALMERSTON'S GENIUS.

"You're welcome as blossom, my dear," said Mrs Bowldler to Fancy Tabb,
who had dropped in, as she put it, for a look around. The child was
allowed a couple of hours off duty in the afternoon to take a walk and
blow away the cobwebs of the Chandler's gloomy house: her poor
shop-