over their kind words and pleasant
faces."

More than one of the company had dropped off asleep during Billy's
narrative, and of the others, their complaisance as listeners appeared
taxed to the utmost, while the Corporal snored loudly, like a man who
had a right to indulge himself to the fullest extent.

"There's the bell again," muttered one, "that's from the 'lord's room;'"
and Craggs, starting up by the instinct of his office, hastened off to
his master's chamber.

"My lord says you are to remain here," said he, as he re-entered a few
minutes later; "he is satisfied with your skill, and I'm to send off a
messenger to the post, to let them know he has detained you."

"I 'm obaydient," said Billy, with a low bow; "and now for a brief
repose!" And so saying, he drew a long woollen nightcap from his
pocket, and putting it over his eyes, resigned himself to sleep with the
practised air of one who needed but very little preparation to secure
slumber.

CHAPTER IV. A VISITOR

The old Castle of Glencore contained but one spacious room, and this
served all the purposes of drawing-room, dining-room, and library. It
was a long and lofty chamber, with a raftered ceiling, from which a
heavy chandelier hung by a massive chain of iron. Six windows, all in
the same wall, deeply set and narrow, admitted a sparing light. In the
opposite wall stood two fireplaces, large, massive, and monumental, the
carved supporters of the richly-chased pediment being of colossal size,
and the great shield of the house crowning the pyramid of strange and
uncouth objects that were grouped below. The walls were partly occupied
by bookshelves, partly covered by wainscot, and here and there displayed
a worn-out portrait of some bygone warrior or dame, who little dreamed
how much the color of their effigies should be indebted to the sad
effects of damp and mildew. The furniture consisted of every imaginable
type, from the carved oak and ebony console to the white and gold of
Versailles taste, and the modern compromise of comfort with ugliness
which chintz and soft cushions accomplish. Two great screens, thickly
covered with prints and drawings, most of them political caricatures of
some fifty years back, flanked each fireplace, making, as it were, in
this case two different apartments.

At one of those, on a low sofa, sat, or rather lay, Lord Glencore, pale
and wasted by long illness. His thin hand held a letter, to shade his
eyes from the bl