ained, 'showed a liveliness you wouldn't believe.
It was, in a manner of speaking, beyond anythink y'r Worships would
expect.' He paused a moment, cleared his throat, and achieved this
really fine phrase: 'It was, for their united ages, in a manner of
speaking, a knock-out.'

I see them now as they filed into court--yellow in the gills, shaking
between present fear and the ebb of excess. But I see Sir Felix
also, a trifle red in the face, gripping the arms of his chair,
bending forward and confronting them.

For a moment I imagined he meant to address them as a crowd. But his
fine sense of business prevailed, and he signed to the Clerk to read
the first charge.

He dealt with the charges, one by one, and in detail. Alone he
inflicted the fines, while we sat and listened with eyes glued upon
the baize table. And the fines were heavy--too heavy. It was not
for us to interfere.

At the end I expected some few words of general rebuke. I believe
the culprits themselves would have been glad of a tongue-lashing.
But he uttered none. To the end he dealt out justice, none aiding
him; and when the business was over, pushed back his chair.

We filed out after him. I believe that he has paid all the fines out
of his own pocket.

And Troy laughs. But I believe it is safe to say that, while Sir
Felix lives, Kirris-vean will not hold a second Regatta.

COLONEL BAIGENT'S CHRISTMAS.

Outside the railway station Colonel Baigent handed his carpet-bag to
the conductor of the hotel omnibus, and stood for a moment peering
about in the dusk, as if to take his bearings.

'For The Dragon, sir?' asked the conductor.

'The Dragon?' Yes, certainly,' echoed Colonel Baigent, aroused by
the name from the beginnings of a brown study. 'So The Dragon is
still standing, eh?'

''Twas standing all right when I left it, twenty minutes ago,' the
man answered flippantly; for to-night was Christmas Eve, and English
hotel servants do not welcome guests who stay over Christmas.

But the colonel remarked nothing amiss in his tone. In fact, he was
not listening. He stared out into the mirk beyond the flare of gas
in the entrance-way, slowly bringing his mind to bear on the city at
his feet, with its maze of dotted lights. The afternoon had been
cold and gusty, with now and then a squall of hail from the
north-west. The mass of the station buildings behind him blotted out
whatever of daylight yet lingered. Eastward a sullen re