of a leading
incident.

VI

It was a Sunday afternoon in full July, and a small party was seated
under the spreading mulberry tree on the Monteiths' lawn. General
Claviger was of the number, that well-known constructor of scientific
frontiers in India or Africa; and so was Dean Chalmers, the popular
preacher, who had come down for the day from his London house to
deliver a sermon on behalf of the Society for Superseding the Existing
Superstitions of China and Japan by the Dying Ones of Europe. Philip
was there, too, enjoying himself thoroughly in the midst of such good
company, and so was Robert Monteith, bleak and grim as usual, but deeply
interested for the moment in dividing metaphysical and theological
cobwebs with his friend the Dean, who as a brother Scotsman loved a
good discussion better almost than he loved a good discourse. General
Claviger, for his part, was congenially engaged in describing to Bertram
his pet idea for a campaign against the Madhi and his men, in the
interior of the Soudan. Bertram rather yawned through that technical
talk; he was a man of peace, and schemes of organised bloodshed
interested him no more than the details of a projected human sacrifice,
given by a Central African chief with native gusto, would interest an
average European gentleman. At last, however, the General happened to
say casually, "I forget the exact name of the place I mean; I think it's
Malolo; but I have a very good map of all the district at my house down
at Wanborough."

"What! Wanborough in Northamptonshire?" Bertram exclaimed with sudden
interest. "Do you really live there?"

"I'm lord of the manor," General Claviger answered, with a little
access of dignity. "The Clavigers or Clavigeros were a Spanish family of
Andalusian origin, who settled down at Wanborough under Philip and Mary,
and retained the manor, no doubt by conversion to the Protestant side,
after the accession of Elizabeth."

"That's interesting to me," Bertram answered, with his frank and
fearless truthfulness, "because my people came originally from
Wanborough before--well, before they emigrated." (Philip, listening
askance, pricked up his ears eagerly at the tell-tale phrase; after all,
then, a colonist!) "But they weren't anybody distinguished--certainly
not lords of the manor," he added hastily as the General turned a
keen eye on him. "Are there any Ingledews living now in the Wanborough
district? One likes, as a matter of scientif