voice as they approached,
"what is your business?"

"We desire your Majesty to listen to us."

"On a matter of importance?"

"To us--yes. It has brought us from England."

"Speak, then."

"Your Majesty," Captain Barker began, his voice trembling slightly,
"we have come to offer you, and to beg that you will accept, our
swords and our service."

"That is very pretty, sir," answered William, after a pause, during
which his eye kindled with some triumph; "but unless I do you an
injustice, Captain Barker and Captain Runacles, there is some
condition attached to this surrender."

"None, sire, but that which your Majesty's self imposed less than
three months back. We are come to redeem, if we may, the young man
of whom you then robbed us."

"Robbed!"

"Forgive me, sire--deprived. See, your Majesty; we are two old men,
but active; battered somewhat, but not ignorant; worn, but not worn
out. We are at your service: take us, use us as you will. We will
serve you faithfully, loyally, without question, until we die or your
enemies break us. Only restore our son, Tristram Salt."

"Gentlemen, I will not say but that I am gratified by this--"
William paused, saw the hope spring into their eyes, and added, with
assumed coldness--"only it happens that you come too late."

The two honest faces fell.

"Too-late?" Captain Barker stammered, staring stupidly at the King.
"Is my boy--dead?" The question came in a dull, sick tone, that
softened their Sovereign's heart within him.

"Forgive me, gentlemen; I had no right to play thus with your
feelings. You have come too late only because I gave the young man
his discharge more than two months ago, with a passport to take him
back to England."

"But he has not arrived!"

"He started, at any rate; and in company with one who appeared to
have the best right to take care of him--I mean his father, Captain
Roderick Salt."

Captain Barker groaned.

"May it please your Majesty," said Captain Jemmy, thrusting himself
forward, "but Roderick Salt's the damn'dest villain in your service;
and that's saying a good deal. I mean no offence, of course."

"Of course not," commented the Earl of Portland, who was hugely
delighted.

"I believe that opinion is held by some," his Majesty observed, with
a side-glance at his friend.

"Not by me," said Portland tranquilly. "There are worse than Salt--
whom, after all, your Majesty has neither enriched nor ennobled."

William f