e youth, who leaned
against a gate and nodded his curly head approvingly until the story was
finished.

"You've not mentioned this to any one, have you, Pat?"

"Niver a sowl but yersilf, sir."

"You're a sensible boy, Pat. Here's a shilling for you--and, look here,
Pat, if you keep dark upon the matter till after breakfast to-morrow and
don't open your lips to a living soul about it, I'll give you half a
crown."

"Thank yer honour."

"Now mind--no hints to the police; no remarks to your master. Be dumb,
in fact, from this moment, else I won't give you a penny."

"Sure I've forgot all about it already, sir," said the boy, with a wink
so expressive that Harry felt his word to be as good as his bond, and
went back to the parsonage laughing.

Arrived there, he went in search of his sister, but found that she was
out.

"Just as well," he muttered, descending to the dining-room with his
hands deep in his pockets, a pleased expression on his handsome mouth,
and a stern frown on his brows. "It would not be safe to make a
confidant of her in so delicate a matter. No, I'll do it all alone.
But how to do it? That is the question. Shall I invite the aid of the
police? Perish the thought! Shall I consult the Pater? Better not.
The dear, self-devoted man might take it out of my hands altogether."

Harry paused in profound meditation. He was standing near the window at
the time, with the "statters" on either hand of him.

They were complete suits of armour--one representing a knight in plate
armour, the other a Crusader in chain-mail. Both had been in the family
since two of the Stronghand warriors had followed Richard of the Lion
Heart to the East. As the eldest brother of the Reverend Theophilus was
in India, the second was on the deep, and the lawyer was dead, the iron
shells of the ancient warriors had naturally found a resting-place in
the parsonage, along with several family portraits, which seemed to show
that the males of the race were prone to look very stern, and to stand
in the neighbourhood of pillars and red curtains in very dark weather,
while the females were addicted to old lace, scant clothing, and benign
smiles. One of the warriors stood contemplatively leaning on his sword.
The other rested a heavy mace on his shoulder, as if he still retained
a faint hope that something might turn up to justify his striking yet
one more blow.

"What would you advise, old man?" said Harry, glancing up at t