me
divested himself of his Inverness cape, turned to the Clerk and
demanded news of a lad discharged at the last Sessions on his own and
parents' recognisances, to be given another chance under the eye of
our new Probation Officer.

'--Of a coachman I once had called Oke--William Oke,' continued Lord
Rattley imperturably. 'Drunken little sot he was, but understood
horses. One night I had out the brougham and drove into Bodmin to
mess with the Militia. The old Royal Cornwall Rangers messed at the
hotel in those days, in the long room they used for Assemblies.
About eleven o'clock I sent for my carriage, and along it came in due
course. Well, I dare say at that hour I wasn't myself in a condition
to be critical of Oke's--'

Sir Felix pulled out his watch, and asked me what I made the time.

'Off we drove,' pursued Lord Rattley, ignoring this hint, 'and I must
have dropped asleep at once. When I awoke the blessed vehicle had
come to a standstill. I called to Oke--no answer: so by-and-by I
opened the carriage door and stepped out. The horses had slewed
themselves in towards the hedge and were cropping peaceably: but no
Oke was on the box and still no Oke answered from anywhere when I
shouted. He had, as a fact, tumbled clean off the box half a mile
astern, and was lying at that moment in the middle of the road.
At that hour I had no mind to look for him, so I collected the reins
somehow, climbed up in front, and drove myself home. I had a butler
then by the name of Ibbetson--a most respectable man, with the face
of a Bible Christian minister; and, thought I, on my way up the
drive, "I'll give Ibbetson a small scare." So coming to the porch,
when Ibbetson heard the wheels and cast the door open, I kept my seat
like a rock. Pretty well pitch dark it was where I sat behind the
lamps. Ibbetson comes down the steps, opens the carriage door and
stands aside. After a moment he begins to breathe hard, pops his
head into the brougham, then his arm, feels about a bit, and comes
forward for a lamp. "My God, Bill!" says Ibbetson, looking up at me
in the dark. "What have you done with th' ould devil?"'

'I really think,' suggested Sir Felix hurriedly, 'we ought not to
keep the Court waiting.'

So in we filed, and the Court rose respectfully to its feet and stood
while we took our seats. The Superintendent of Police--an officer
new to our Division--gazed at me with a perfectly stolid face across
the baize-covered t