."

"And where were they taking this man--the spy--when he jumped
overboard?"

"To Gibraltar, where he was to be tried by court-martial."

"And after they'd tried him by court-martial?"

"If the court-martial had found him guilty, they would have shot him."

"Shot him?"

"Yes, they showed no quarter at that time, I believe, to one who stole,
or tried to steal, State secrets."

"Oh, how horrible!" cried the boy, covering his face with his hands.

"Don't you think that a man like that deserves to die, Hibbert?
Remember, it isn't only one life he places in peril, but
hundreds--thousands. He betrays a country."

"Yes, yes, I dare say you are right, Percival--I'm certain you are
right; but none the less, it sounds very terrible. Is it the same now as
it was then--that no quarter would be given to a spy, I mean?"

"I think so. But I'm sorry I told you the story," said Paul, looking at
the boy apprehensively. His face was still deathly pale, while he
trembled in every limb. "I didn't think it would cut you up so. Any one
would think," he added, with a sad smile, "that it was your father's
death I'd been talking about instead of mine."

"Yes, my father"--and the boy gave a little, stifled laugh. "I--I've
been putting myself in your place, you see. How was it the spy got
away?"

"He was tried by court-martial, but nothing could be proved against him,
you see; for my father was the principal witness, and he was at the
bottom of the sea."

"At the bottom of the sea," repeated the boy, as a tear stole slowly
down his cheek. "And you don't know what became of the spy?"

"Oh, I suppose he returned to his own country after that," said Paul
carelessly; for he did not want to tell Hibbert his suspicions that
Zuker was still in England and not so far away. "But be off now, and
have a good run in the open. You've had enough of my yarn, and will be
dreaming about spies and drowning all night."

Hibbert brushed the tear from his eye. It seemed as though his heart
were too full for speech; for he went out without a word.

"What a sensitive little chap he is!" thought Paul. "He was full to
overflowing as I told him that story. I wonder what his people are
like?"

He got up as he spoke and went out. A throng of boys were playing in the
grounds. Too absorbed in their games, they took no notice of Paul, for
which he was devoutly thankful. He walked out of the grounds, along the
road leading to St. Bede's. Scarcely noticing