d, a look of mingled fear and
hesitation on his face. The priest turned instantly and noticed it.
He laid his hand on his shoulder. "I am not yet gone, as thou seest.
There is something I would show thee before I go."

For the space of about ten minutes the two stood in silence. Then the
priest said "Come," and led the farmer from the house. He followed in
Basil's footsteps, and came at length to the foot of a dwarf oak. A
man lay there, his eyes glazing in death. Basil was wiping a dagger in
the bracken.

Jerome pointed to the dying woodsman. "That man doubted and
hesitated," he said.

The farmer shuddered, and went white-faced homewards.

Chapter III.

TWO FRIENDS.

Admiral Drake sat amidst his roses, watching the tide as it raced up
the river. Every day he sat thus, unless some pressing duty forbade,
for the sea held first place in his heart. When the tide was out, the
river was dull and dreary enough to the heart of the bold sailor. To
gaze on a stretch of a mile or more of sand and mud, with a shallow,
yellow stream dividing it into two unequal portions, is not
exhilarating; but when the sea makes its wild rush up the estuary,
quickly filling the wide river-bed from bank to bank, then the Severn
is noble enough, and one looks upon it with pride. The swirl and roar
of the waters was music to Sir Francis, and the tide was an old and
well-beloved friend that came up daily to embrace him. The happiest of
the knight's waking hours were those he spent by the side of the
flowing salt stream.

There was a click at the latch of the garden gate, and a most elegant
gentleman sauntered gracefully in. His doublet was of blue, slashed
silk, his feathered cap was of a colour to match, and there were golden
buckles to his shoes and golden hilts to sword and dagger. His beard
was trimmed to a dainty point, and curling locks slightly flecked with
white hung down to his broad shoulders. The admiral, in his gray
homespun, his short, frizzled hair bared to the breeze, turned at the
sound of approaching footsteps, caught sight of the gentleman in blue,
and sprang up to greet him.

"Now the winds of heaven be thanked for wafting thee hither, dear Wat,"
he cried. "Thou art more welcome than a fine day."

And the bluff sailor took the dainty visitor in his arms and kissed him
lovingly on both cheeks. Embrace and kiss were heartily returned, and,
arm in arm, the two sought the garden seat, and sat down to