ne. "The future head of the house is kept in
cotton-wool; he is too precious, I suppose, to be risked."

"It is not my fault," began Lydstone. It was a sore point with him
that he had not been permitted--in deference to his mother's fond
protests--to enter the army.

"Are you not coming with us, Lydstone?" said his young brother,
greatly disappointed. "I did want to show you our mess."

"I know Gibraltar by heart, and I have letters to write. I hope you
will enjoy yourself, Countess," he added, sarcastically, as they went
down the side.

"There's no fear of that, now we have left you behind," replied Mrs.
Wilders, sharply.

"Why can't you and Lydstone keep better friends?" said General
Wilders, a little shocked at this remark.

"It's his fault, not mine, and that's enough about it," replied Mrs.
Wilders, rather petulantly. "Did you ever quarrel with your brother,"
she went on to Anastasius, "when you were boys?"

"I would not have dared. Not that I wanted to: we three brothers were
always the best of friends."

"You are an affectionate family, Mr. Wilders; I have long been
convinced of that," said Mrs. Wilders, who could not leave the subject
alone.

But now the gig, impelled by six stout oarsmen, was nearing the
Waterport Guard, and was already under the shadow of the frowning
batteries of the Devil's Tongue. High above them rose the sheer
straight wall of the rock, bristling with frowning fortifications,
line above line, and countless embrasures armed with heavy artillery.

The wharf itself was crowded with the usual motley polyglot
gathering--sailors of all nations, soldiers of the garrison, Spanish
peasants from the neighbouring villages, native scorpions, policemen,
and inspectors of strangers.

"How amusing! How interesting! It's like a scene in a play!" cried
Mrs. Wilders, as she stepped ashore.

Escorted by her husband and cousin, they pushed their way through the
crowd towards the Waterport gateway, and under it into the main ditch.
As they approached there was a cry of "Guard, turn out!" and the
Waterport Guard, under its officer, fell in with open ranks to give
the general a salute. General Wilders acknowledged the compliment,
and, while he stood there with two fingers to his hat, Sergeant McKay
advanced and reported himself.

"Your orderly, sir."

"Eh! what?" said the general, a little surprised. "My orderly! Very
considerate of Sir Thomas," he went on. "One of the Royal Picts, too,
and a