Love, the Tyrant Or, Where Her Heart Led BY CHARLES GARVICE AUTHOR OF "With All Her Heart," "Marcia Drayton," "At Love's Cost," "Just a Girl," etc. A. L. BURT COMPANY PUBLISHERS :: :: :: NEW YORK Copyright 1900 BY V GEORGE MUNRO'S SONS LOVE, THE TYRANT LOVE, THE TYRANT. CHAPTER I. IN the intense stillness and clearness of the Australian night there was something weird and strangely oppressive; and a young man who stood at the door of a shepherd's hut vaich stood in a small clearing, looked round and shuddered slightly as if the solitude might be peopled by ghosts. He was pale and thin, with that red look about the eyes which fever paints so skilfully ; and as he leant against the door he listened with the eagerness afad impatience which re- vealed themselves in the twitch of his thin, parched lips. At his feet a dog lay curled up as if asleep, but his eyes were open, for, like the man, he was listening, and when his master said: "Arthur's late, Bob, isn't* he?" the dog wagged his tail as if he understood: which it's even money he did. The young man went in presently and stirred the fire under the rough kettle, lit the tafluw candle, though the moon was shining brightly through the window, then dropped, rather than threw himself, beside tha fire, and sighed wearily. Not- withstanding the heat, he shivered now and again as if with cold, and once he wiped the chilly dampness from his fore- head with the sleeve of his coat. Half an hour passed and he had fallen into a fitful doze, when he heard the sound of a horse; the dog heard it, to j, and sprang up with a bark of welcome. The young fellow rose, staggering slightly, and made his way to the door. As he did so, a horseman rode into the clearing, dropped from the saddle, spoke to the dog, that leapt caressingly upon him, and said, cheeringly: " Back at last, old man. How goes it?" "Oh, so so," replied the other. "I thought you were never coming that something had happened. Look sharp and come in, Arthur." Arthur Burtcn nodded, led his horse round to a shed at 2135S27 6 ftJVE, THE the back of the hut, rubbed the animal down swiftly tout with the loving touch of a man who loves his horse, gave it a double feed, and then went into the hut. Jack Gordon was bending over the fire, but he rose as his chum entered, and held out his hand with a smile on his fevered face. Arthur took the thin, hot hand, and pressed it; and as they stood, *he contrast between them was marked and painful; the one was so gaunt and thin and wasted, the other so magnificent a specimen of English manhood. He stood a good six feet; hia chest was broad, his limbs finely moulded, and as hard as iron and as supple as steel; there was not an ounce of fat upon him; it was all sinew and muscle. There was strength not only in his form but in the handsome face, tanned by sun and rain; in the dark eyes, shining like agates in the fire- light, and the short curls of the chestnut hair that grew in waves on the forehead which the wide hat had kept white. " You're not so well to-night, Jack," he said, as he flung his hat in a corner and took off his coat. " Why don't you lie down and rest? You promised me you would." Jack laughed rather shamefacedly. " I tried it, but it wouldn't wash. For the first time in my life 1 got the blues being alone, and was as full of fancies as a woman. I imagined all sorts of things had happened to you. Last night I heard footsteps and voices in the gulch, or fan- cied I did; which is all the same, for it kept me awake. It's the fever, I suppose." Arthur Burton nodded. " Must have been, for I saw nothing of them, though I heard at the store that a gang had been seen in the neigh- bourhood; but that was days ago and they must have passed on; anyway, it's not likely they will happen on us; we're too far off the track. Now, you just leave that kettle alone and lie down. I'll get the tea; I've been sitting in the saddle so long that I'm hankering for domestic duties. 1 got some quinine at the store, and you'll have a dose before we go any farther." He opened the little white packet as if the powder were gold-dust and, indeed, it was more precious than gold-dust and himself tilted it on to his chum's tongue. Jack looked up at the strong, handsome face with a wistful gratitude. " Arthur, old man," he said, with that quaver in his voice of which every man is ashamed, " you've been a true, good chum to me. Ever since we met there, at Wallv Ford, six mouths ago, you've stood by me, shoulder to shoulder, like LOVE, THE TYRANT. T Hkt a brother. You've stood this peevish temper of mint md all my tantrums, and never offered to kick me." " Which I shall promptly do now, my good Jack, if you don't shut up." " You've shared you last crust with me like the coves in a novel, and now you ride a matter of a hundred and fifty miles to get me quinine and pretend you went because you were dying to see a newspaper you who never cared for it when we came across one." " Well, anyway, I've got one," said Arthur, and he took a newspaper from his jacket hanging on a nail and chucked it on the bed. " But I don't think you'll have to put up with me long, Arthur," said Jack Gordon, in the calm and quiet tone of the man who hears the soft footsteps of Death approaching him. " Laugh at me if you like, but I've a notion I'm going to peter out before long." Arthur winced and turned his head away that the sick man might not see the spasms of grief which had passed over hia face. t " Not you, old man!" he said. " You're worth ten dead men, and you and I will be making for Melbourne presently, for that spree which we've been looking forward to so long c What you really want is a darned good shaking, and I'd give it to you if I weren't too tired. Here's your tea, and here's some soft tommy I got at the stores; though it's a fulsome compliment to call it soft, for it's as hard as a fossil; but you can soak it in the tea, and it will be a change anyway." " Arthur, you ought to have been a woman," said Jack, as he took the cake. " You're as strong as a lion, and as hard as nails, but you've got a heart as soft as putty, and it will land you in trouble some day, if it hasn't done so already." Burton's face reddened under its tan, and he laughed a soft, curt laugh. " Yes, some woman will get hold of that heart of yours, Arthur, and wring it wring it hard and tight, if you don't watch it. It's always chaps like you who fall victims to what they call the ' gentle sex.' But I have no reason to complain; that heart has stood me in good stead. How does it go? 4 The friend that sticketh closer than a brother;' that's the sort you are, old man, and it was a lucky wind that drifted me across your path." " That'll do,* said Arthur; " you talk like a fellow in a novelette. I've done precious little for you, not half what LOVE, THE TYRANT. yon would have done for me; and so there's au end of fe l)ry up and go to sleep." He drew a blanket over the shivering form, giving it a friendly punch, by way of caress, then threw himself beside the fire again and lit his pipe; but suddenly remembering that the smoke sometimes made Jack cough, stealthily extin- guished the tobacco with his finger and slipped the pipe into his pocket. For a time he lay with his head upon his hand, gazing sleepily at the fire and listening to the laboured breath- ing of his chum. Then the fire got low, the air grew chilly, and Burton, feeling cold after his ride, rose noiselessly and put on his ccat. As he thrust his hand in his pocket he felt the sharp edge of a letter, and with an upward jerk of the head, as if he had forgotten the thing, he took the letter out and looked at it. The envelope was unbroken and was addressed to " Mr. Arthur Burton, Wally Ford." " The first letter I've had for nearly two years," he mut- tered. " Wonder who it can be from? Somebody found ouh my alias some dun, I expect: looks like a business letter. What else should it be? No one belonging to me knows where I am or the name I go by. Half a mind to pitch it in the fire, for it's sure to be a worry. Better open it, perhaps." With a shrug of the shoulders, with an absolute indiffer- ence and absence of curiosity, he opened the envelope and drew out the letter. It was written on the fine bank-note paper used by first-class lawyers and business men; it bore a neatly engraved heading " Floss & Floss, Solicitors " and it ran thus: " DEAR SIR, With great difficulty we have succeeded in tracing you as far as Wall 7 Ford, to which place we address this letter with your assumed name. We have to inform you of the death of your uncle. Sir Richard Vancourt, which oc- curred, on November the ninth last. You have succeeded to the baronetcy in natural course. By a will, executed on his death-bed, your uncle bequeathed you the estates and his whole fortune. In the event of your death, everything goes to a distant relation of Sir Richard's a young lady named Esther Vancourt. We beg most earnestly that you will, immediately on receipt of this letter, return to England, and we anxiously await a telegram from you, as all attempts to trace you from Wally Ford have failed. Your affairs most Urgently need your presence here. We have the honour to te, dear sir, Your obedient servants, FLOSS & FLOSS. " LOVE, THE TYI? A1?T. 9 Bnrton stared at the letter without moving a muscle; his "head felt hot, his face grew red and white by turns. It was hard to believe, even with the crisp paper between his fingers, the legible writing before his eyes. His uncle was dead; he was Sir John Vancourt, a baronet of the United Kingdom, the owner of the vast fortune which his uncle had built up hundred by hundred, thousand by thousand. He could scarcely remember the old man, who had hated him as a boy, had never given a thought to either the title or the money. And now they were both his! He was no longer a wanderer on the face of the earth, literally earning his bread by the sweat f his brow, carrying his life in his hand, and heedless whether he dropped it by the way or not, but a man of rank, with a place and position waiting for him in dear old England, that little island which you only begin to love when you are exiled from it. He was the owner of Vanjourt Towers he had only the dimmest recollection of it; of a rambling, Norman-looking place, with a couple of half-ruined towers and a dry moat in which the grass was always green and where the sunlight rarely played. He knew that the house was magnificent, that two genera- tions of Vancourts had spent inauy thousands upon it, but the chief point of his remembrance were the old towers and the moat, the peacocks on the terrace, and the swans on the lake in the park. And it was all his! Hard to realise, as he lay there in the Australian wilds, in the rough hut, with the barest necessaries of life, with a few shillings in his pocket, and his wardrobe consisting of the riding-suit he wore. He scarcely knew whether to be glad or sorry; it had come so suddenly. And yet he ought to be glad, very glad, for he had had a devil of a hard time of it. Cattle-running, sheep- washing, gold-dig- ging, read very prettily and poetically in novels, but they are hard, cruelly hard work, as many a young Englishman knows to his cost; and Arthur Burton had faced perils and priva- tions which would have bowled him over long ago but for his great strength and the Vancourt constitution, which had enabled his race to go the pace in all kinds of ways with im- punity. Yes, he would go at once and take up his title and inherit* ance. Then he remembered his sick chum lying on the bed. No; he couldn't go at once. He wouldn't leave Jack if the throne of England were waiting for him; he would wait until his chum was better, and strong enough to travel, and he would take Jack to Vancourt Towers, and they would have 10 LOVE, THE the highest of high times together, just as they had had thft roughest of the rough. He wouldn't desert his friead: Jack wasn't going to die; that was all nonsense; men always got down on their luck when the fever was in them. He wouldn't say anything about the change in his fortunes until Jack was better, and then they'd be ofi to dear old England, side by side, comrades still. The sick man moved and moaned uneasily, and Arthur rose and went to him. " Had a nice old snooze, old man?" " Yes," said Jack. " First rate, if it hadn't been for the dreams. I thought I was a boy again, playing with my sister. I never told you about her, Arthur I've never told you any- thing about myself. It isn't a pleasant story." His white face flushed and his eyes fell. " Somehow, to-night I feel I should like to. I mightn't have another chance." " Don't worry about it unless you like, old man," said Arthur. " We all have our little stories. Why the devil should we be here in this God-forsaken place if we hadn't?" " My father was a parson," said Jack in a low voice, and turning his head away on the rough pillow. " He died and left my sister she is younger than I am to my care. There wasn't much money, and I I spent it. I got up to Lon- don You can guess the rest. When the smash came I bolted, and left her in the charge of a maiden aunt, a good sort of woman, who, thank God, will have taken care of her. They think me dead, for I was reported killed in the Branch Valley affair; and I didn't contradict the report, for it seemed to me better just then that I should be dead than alive. I disgraced them and myself, and betrayed the trust my father had_left me. Nice kind of brother! Poor little girl! I hope she -Is happy! I'm sure she has forgiven me. Arthur, if anything should happen to me, when you go back to the old country I want you to look my sister up and tell her what chums we were, and what a friend you've been to me. I want you to give an eye to her and see that she's all right. Observe my colossal selfishness: I'm not satisfied with all you've done for me, but I must worry you about my sister! feut I know you'd do it, old man. You're the strong kind of chap that weak men like myself always prey upon. You'll do it, Arthur?" " Of course I will," said Arthur. His eyes closed as if the talk had tired him, and he slept for a few minutes; then woke with a shudder and complained of the cold. Arthur took off. his coat and insisted upon pot* LOVE, THE TYRANT. 11 ting it on his sick chum Jack's was a much thinner one and in rags and Jack got up and lay beside the fire, which Arthur stirred into a blaze. He made a cushion of the other coat, but Jack was restless and could not lie still. " Do you think I only fancied that I heard voices in the valley, Arthur?" he asked. " If 1 hadn't had the fever on me I could have sworn there were men down there." "Only your fancy, I think, old man; at any rate, they wouldn't be rangers, for the police are in the neighbourhood and the scoundrels would have cleared out." Jack nodded. " Where's that paper you bought?" he asked, presently. Arthur took it from the bed, and, unfolding it, handed it, and while Jack was reading it, made some more tea. Sud- denly an exclamation from Jack caused him to look round. Jack had sprung to his feet and was staring at the paper, which he was clutching with shaking hands. His face was crimson, his lips trembling, and Arthur thinking that he was geized with the delirium of the fever, went to him quickly and put an arm round him, " What's the matter, old man; feeling bad?" " Bad! I must be going mad. Feel my pulse, Arthur!" He thrust one hand out. " Is it fever; am I off my head? Tell me tell me quick, for God's sake!" " You're all right," said Arthur, soothingly. " Keep your hair on, old chap. What ails you?" Jack struck the paper with his shaking finger. " Here's something about my sister, Arthur; the girl I've just been telling you about! it's like a dream, a miracle. Here's her name, plain enough; and a story about her that's too wonderful to be true! It says here! you read it your- self, for I can't see the words, there's a mist before my eyes. Read it out loud, and, for God's sake, be quick or I shall go mad! There it is; there there!" He thrust the paper into Arthur's hands and pointed to the paragraph, and Arthur read it aloud: " * Berkshire has sustained a severe loss in the death of Sir Richard Vancourt of Vancourt Towers. He was pre-eminent as a landlord and a magistrate, and will ever be remembered by the poor as their benefactor and friend. The baronetcy descends to Mr. John Vancourt, and to this nephew the late Sir Richard has left his immense fortune; but, as is well known, the young man left England for Australia some years ago, and ia supposed to have died there. If this should], un- 12 LOVE, THE TYBAUT. fortunately, be the case, all Sir Richard's wealth goes to a distant relation, a young lady named Esther Vancourt. Dili- gent enquiries after Sir John, the present baronet, having proved futile, Miss Esther Vancourt is, so to speak, in pos- session of the property. While deploring the death of the young baronet if dead he be we offer our respectful con- gratulations to the young lady who is presumptive mistress of Vancourt Towers.' ' Arthur neither started noa uttered a word, but just looked straight before him with eyes that saw the printed lines on the opposite wall. This chum of his, then, was a sort of cousin, the little sister Jack had consigned to Arthur's care was the girl who would have inherited Sir Richard's money if he, Arthur, had not been alive! For a moment he wished that he was dead. A cry from Jack roused him from his stupor. The sick man was sitting on the bed, clutching at the edge of it as if for support. An expression of amazement, of joy, was on his face; he was trembling violently. " It's true, Arthur; you read it yourself, and you're sane enough! My little Esther! God bless her! Rich! Oh, Arthur, old man, if you knew how hard and bitter a time she must have had! She must have had to work for her living, must have had to suffer and put up with all sorts of slights and hardships. You know what a girl has to endure in Eng- land when she is poor and friendless. The thought of it has kept me awake many and manv a night, and made life a hell for me. And now she's rich! You think it's true, don't you; the fellow isn't lying?" he broke off, eagerly. " No, no; it's all right," said Arthur, with a calmness which surprised himself. " So your name is Vancourt?" Jack nodded. " Yes," he said, hoarsely, weakness setting in after the ex- citement. " It's a good old name. The Sir Richard that died and left his money to Esther was a kind of cousin of mine. I never saw him or any of his people; we were too poor and proud to claim his acquaintance, and I don't know now he came to remember Esther's existence. But I'm grate- ful to him, for he's mads it easy for me to hand in my checks. I shall die as happy as a bird, now that I know my little girl is safe; for to be rich in England is to be sate. Arthur," he added, with a hoarse laugh. Arthur was silent for a moment, then he said, gravely: " But the nephew, the present baronet, may be alire, old man*" LOVE, THE TYRAJHGi 13 Jack started and looked at him almost angrily. " What do you mean?" he demanded, excitedly. " Of course he's dead! Doesn't the paper say so? Wouldn't he have heard of his luck and gone hounding over to England to claim the money and title long ago? I'm certain he's dead!" He wiped the sweat from his brow. " Oh, it would be too cruel to have him turn up and rob Esther. She's a girl, and alone in the world for lam dying and shall never go back to her and she wants the money. It's her due, it's been left to her it would be cruel, cruel! What do you mean by say- ing he's alive?" " Don't excite yourself," said Arthur, soothingly. " I only said he might be: I daresay he's as dead as a herring, and for your sake and your sister's, old man, I hope he is. But don't you talk about dying; this good news is just what you wanted to shake you up. You lie down again; and, whatever you do, keep your hair on." He gently forced Jack on to the bed and covered him up with a rug. " Give me the paper," said the sick man, brokenly; and he clutched it and tried to read the paragraph, repeating lines here and there and murmuring every now and then: "Esther! Little Esther rich! Oh, thank God! God bless my little Esther!" Arthur went and stood in front of the fire, his hands thrust in his breeches pockets, his head bent, his handsome face grave and troubled. How could he tell his chum that Sir John Vancourt was alive, that he was the missing baronet, and that he was going to deprive the little sister of her wealth? He couldn't. The sick man's muttering ceased, an intense silence fell upon the hut, broken only by the breathing of Bob, who had been rushing around, sharing in the excitement, but had now coiled himself up beside the fire, close to his master's feet. Suddenly the dog raised his head and emitted a low growl. Arthur started from his reverie and listened, and his ears, almost as sharp as Bob's, heard the sound of footsteps outside the door. He sprang on tiptoe to the bed: Jack was sleeping heavily, the sleep of exhaustion. Arthur caught up his rifle, felt the revolver in his belt, and stood in front of the heavily bolted door, waiting. Presently the dog gave a loud bark. Jack sat up in bed, and a voice outside called out: " Hallo, in there!" " HaUol" responded Arthur. " Witt's tfaoaP* 14 LOVE, THE TYRANT. " A traveller let me in, mate!" came the voice. Arthur drew his revolver and slowly unbolted the door. A man wearing a mask sprang in with pointed revolver. " Hands up!" he cried. " We don't want no bloodshed!" Arthur fired promptly; but prompt as he had been, the bushranger had ducked and the bullet passed over his head. The next moment three other men flung themselves upon Arthur; he fired twice before the revolver was knocked out of his hand, and he struggled and fought like an Englishman; but it was four against one, and he was at last forced against the wall^ his arms bound behind his back and his feet securely tied. Jack had sprung from the bed, but before he could seize his revolver, he was struck backwards by a blow from the butt end of a rifle and lay panting and helpless. " Now, bail up!" said the man who had first entered. " Where do you keep the stuff? We know you've got some; own up, or we'll shoot you like a dog." Arthur smiled. " Shoot away!" he said. The bushranger lifted his revolver, but one of his compan- ions stopped him. " Hold hard; give him time. He looks a sensible sort of chap. Come now, mate!" addressing Arthur. " Just tell us where the swag is, and give us a drink, and we're off as peaceable as lambs." " Go or stay, it's all one to me," said Arthur. " I don't help you to a penny." The leader of the gang swore a terrible oath. " Let me finish him!" he cried. " We can search for the stuff afterwards." Arthur looked towards the panting figure lying across the bed. " Stop!" he said. " My chum there is in a bad way; you've knocked him senseless; it may kill him; give him a drink of water and pull him round." One of the men picked up a pan of water and was advanc- ing to the bed, but the ringleader stopped him. " Hold on there!" he said. Then he smiled sardonically at Arthur. " Look here, mate; tell us where the stuff is and we'll help your chum: play the d d obstinate mule, and I'llput a bullet in him before your eyes." He pointed his revolver significantly at Jack. Arthur went white to the very lips, and his dark eyes burnt "LOVE, THE TYRAUT. 15 like two spots of fire; then he said in a low voice, but with perfect calm: " Don't lire. You'll find the little we possess in a canvas bag, under that barrel of mealies." Two of the men sprang to the spot indicated and dug up the bag with their knives, the third the man with the pan- nikin in his hands went to Jack, and poured some water down his throat and over his head. The ringleader still stood in front of Arthur, eyeing him vindictively; for the scorn on Arthur's white face cut like a lash. The two men with the bag came forward. " Better be off now," said one; " there's nothing more, I reckon." " Search their pockets," said the ringleader. " Here, 1*11 go over this man's." He went up to Arthur to search him; but Arthur had managed, with extreme difficulty and indescribable pain, to release one arm, and he struck the ranger a blow which sent him reeling across the hut and tore the mask from his face. With a cry of rage and an oath, the ranger snatched UD the revolver, which had fallen from his hand, and levelled it at Arthur. " Don't shoot it's safer!" cried one of his companions. " Not shoot! Why not? He's struck me he's seen my face will know me! I'd shoot him if a thousand devils stood in the way!" He hissed the words rather than spoke them, and his face a handsome but sinister one was white as marble, except- ing where Arthur's fist had struck it. He levelled his re- volver and took careful aim at Arthur's heart; but as the lookers-on stood in breathless suspense, a figure rose from the bed, staggered across the hut and flung itself across Arthur's breast. The sharp report rang out, the wreath of smoke curled up from the revolver, and with a cry Jack fell dead at his chum's feet. Hardened as they were, a murmur of horror rose from the Other rangers. " Curse it all, you've shot the wrong man!" said one. " It was his own fault, the fool!" snarled the ringleader. " But there's time to shoot the right one." Two of the gang sprang at him and caught him by the arm, and there was a struggle. In the midst of it, while Arthur, forgetting his own impending fate, bent down over 16 LOVE, THE TYRAITT. his dead chum, a whistle sounded, and one of tne gang, wh* had been left outside as sentinel, rushed in. " The police!" he said. " They're coming up the gulch! What the devil's on? Looks like murder! Come on!" The men rushed out, and the dead clrarn and the living one were left alone. The dog, that had been kicked almost senseless into a corner, crawled across the floor, and, whining, licked the dead man's face; and tears dropped from Arthur's eyes on to the dog's shaggy coat. His friend was dead, had given his life for him, laid it down willingly, cheerfully. Had died in the fond belief that the sister he loved was rich and safe and provided for. And he, Arthur, the man poor Jack had died for, was going home to deprive the girl of her money. Oh, was he? The minutes passed. Bob lay with his paws and head over the prostrate figure, whining intermittingly. Arthur crouched with his hand upon his dead chum's head. Presently there came the sound of horsemen; voices called, a word of com- mand rang out; the door was opened, and a police officer, followed by some of his men, entered the hut. He ran to Arthur and. cut his bonds, and Arthur staggered on to his knees beside Jack. The sergeant examined the body, shook his head, and laid his hand upon Arthur's shoulder. " Your chum?" he said, in a low voice. " He's quite dead." Arthur rose, tried to speak, then staggered back against the wall and slid down to the floor fainting from the wound which until now he had been unconscious of. When he came to and was helped to his feet, Jack's body was lying on the bed, decently covered, and the sergeant was standing beside it with an open letter in his hand. " We did not know how long it might be before you came to," he said, *' and so we searched your friend for means of identification. We found this letter an important one in his jacket pocket. It appears by this that his real name is Sir John Vancourt, and that he is the heir to a large pro]> erty in England. Poor fellow! Is that so? Is that his name?" " Yes," said Arthur, without a moment's hesitation. His voice was hoarse with weakness and anguish, but it was so clear and distinct that every one heard it. " And what is yours?" asked the servant. WJVE, THE TYRANT. 17 " Jack Goraon," replied Arthur, as promptly, as calmly, 3 before. CHAPTER II. " WHAT you have always to remember, my dear Esther, is that you are a Vancourt." It was seven months later, and the lady who thus adjured Esther Vancourt was the Miss Worcester, the maiden aunt, with whom Esther had lived since childhood. The two ladies were on the small terrace in front of the west wing of the Towers, and they were waiting for the pony- carriage, in which they were going for a drive. It was a lovely evening in spring strange to say, considering that an English spring has now become rather more hateful than winter and so warm that Esther wore no cloak over the white dress with the black sash, which was its only ornament. Miss Worcester was a charming old lady with silvery hair and blue eyes, which had always been placid, but had lately, since Esther's " change of circumstances," endeavoured to assume, wkh more or less success, an expression of dignity. At this moment she was sitting bolt upright on one of the stone seats built into a recess of the old red wall, and regard- ing the owner of the historic name with something like an appeal and reproach; for tha,t young lady had not seated her- self in stately dignity beside her aunt, but had perched herself on the stone balustrade of the terrace, and was swinging a pair of very small and very daintily brown-clad feet " just like a school-boy," Miss Worcester thought. The girl made a picture which, though it shocked her aunt's sense of propriety, would have set an artist or a poet thrilling; for, whatever else she might be, she certainly was ravishingly and dangerously pretty, with a prettiness which later on would develop into actual loveliness; for let it be whispered with bated breath few women come to loveliness at twenty-one. She was dark, with a wealth of hair which caused her, by its vagaries, considerable trouble to keep within its coil ; with dark and rather thick brows, and that clear and colourless complexion which goes sometimes with perfect health. Her eyes were grey, light sometimes, dark or violet at others, just as her mood coloured them; and her mouth was shapely but by no means small. Both mouth and eyes were expressive, too expressive sometimes; for like most women who have gone through the mill of poverty which grindeth so exceeding 18 LOVE, THE TYRASTi small there was a touch of pride and meiancftoly in hef character which sometimes made her haughty and sometimes sad. But as a rule she was high in spirits; indeed, her aunt had more than once called her a tomboy: but that was before Esther had come into the Vancourt property. She was very nearly tall, and thin for at twenty-one a girl has not quite ceased growing but not with the thinness which is painful to the beholder, but with that slender suppleness which should belong to a girl as her birthright. She was looking now rather dreamily across the drive and towards the setting sun, but she heard her aunt's admonition and laughed. " Somehow, I don't think I'm likely to forget it, aunt, dear," she said. " You mean that I remind you of it too frequently, my dear. Perhaps I do, but you must remember that I have a duty to perform my dear Esther, I am perfectly certain you will lose your balance and fall over that parapet." " No danger, I assure you, dear. If I felt myself going, I should cling to the pillar with my toes like this see?" re- sponded Esther, cheerfully, and she crooked her foot round the pillar. " All the same, my dear Esther, one must consider appear* ances. If the butler or one of the footmen were to see you, for instance." " He'd be shocked, I suppose," said Esther. " And yet, would they? I have shocked them so often since I came that they must be used to it." " 1 am almost afraid they are," assented Miss Worcester, with a sigh. " Yesterday, Palmer had to go to the sideboard to conceal his laughter over that story of yours about the bishop and the miner, and the footman nearly choked and was compelled to retire from the room." " Did he really?" said Esther, with an air of surprise and satisfaction. " Palmer has risen in my estimation; I was under the evidently erroneous impression that he was carved out of 8 chunk of wood." " Piece of wood, my dear Esther; though the description in any form is scarcely a suitable one to apply to so highly respectable a servant as " *' Here's the pony-cart, aunt," said Esther, dropping like a falling blossom from her perch. " What a j'olly little beast ft is! It looks like a door-mat on four legs!"' " Y-es," assented Miss Worcester, doubtfully, for it was WVE, THE TYRANT. 19 her irst introduction to the pony in question. " Are you sure it is quite safe, my dear?" " Quite," said Esther, cheerfully. " If it shows any incli- nation to fall down we just lean back in the cart and the shafts will hold it up." " I meant was it likely to run away?" " Oh, no, aunt. It is thirty years old, I believe isn't it, Giles?" The well-trained groom, standing bolt upright at the shaggy little morsel's nead, touched his hat. " Twenty, miss." " Only twenty? I'm disappointed. Get in, aunt," as she took the reins. " We'll have a nice long drive, and if the pony gets tired we'll put it inside the cart, and you and I will drag it in turns." The groom turned away to hide a smile, and the modest equipage " a biscuit-box on two wheels," Esther called it jogged down the avenue. " I'm surprised you like this better than the landau or the victoria, Esther," Miss Worcester remarked, her words being Jerked out by the motion of the cart. Esther shrugged her shoulders. " Between you and me, aunt, I loathe the landau; and any- way, I had enough of it yesterday to last me for a long time. Oh, shall I ever forget the miles we rolled along behind those fat horses, and how glad I was when we came to a house we had to visit almost as glad as I was to get out of the house again." ) " And yet I am spire every one was most kind." " They were. I'm not denying it; but behind their kind- ness, what curiosity! What glances they cast at my hat and dress and hands I suppose they expected to see a kind of superior servant, or a seamstress with the marks of the needle on her hands I don't suppose many of them know I got my living by teaching music, do they? and how they listened to detect the vulgar accent which might betray the * poor girl who'd come into the Vancourt property.' But it's not nice of me to criticise them, though they criticised me, for they were all very kind when they saw that I should pass muster, and I think I may conclude that I am duly and solemnly re- ceived into county society." " 1 should think so, my dear," said Miss Worcester, brid- ling. " A Vancourt of Vancourt is the equal of all and the inperior of many; and though we were poor, w were always 20 [*1VE, THE TTRANT. ladies, I troat, my dear Esther. I can say, humbly, did my best." " Yes, I know, dear, and a very good best it was. What and where should I have been but for you, auntie? There, I can't k.ss you through that veil, but I'll kiss my hand to you, and I'll beg your pardon for being naughty, and I'll promise to be good but you muat give me time, auntie, dear. You see, my greatness has come so suddenly; and it's hard to realise that I am not any longer Esther Vancourt, the music- teacher, but Miss Vancourt of Vancourt Towers. And now, auntie, I am going to pick some of those primroses " they were in the lane by this time " you hold the reins." " My dear Esther, I'm sure the pony will run away!" " No, auntie! What will happen, if anything does, will be that Toby will drop off to sleep and fall down; but you mustn't let him: give him a cut with the whip: he will only smile, of course, for he couldn't feel it through that thick coat, but it will keep him from dozing off." She got out and ran lightly up the bank, and the pony wandered on at a snail's pace. While Esther was picking the primroses, a man was com- ing down the road in the opposite direction to that in which Miss Worcester was being reluctantly dragged. He was tall and thin, and very shabby. The dust was thick on his boots, and there were rents in his clothes. He looked something like a tramp at first sight, and he was followed by a splendid collie as dusty as himself. The man was walking slowly, suiting his pace to that of the dog, who was limping as if he were lame, and soon after they had passed the pony-carriage, and received a stony and timid glance from the elderly lady in it, the man stopped and seated himself on the bank, and said to the dog: " Let's look at that foot again, Bob, old man. Seems to me you are going more dotty on it than you did this morn- ing." &j\) limped up beside his master, and settling down, held up his paw in a matter-of-fact way, with an expression which said quite plainly: " Awfully kind of you to bother about it, but it really is nothing to speak of." The man took the foot and looked at it anxiously, and wiped it with his handkerchief. 'Fraid it's going to fester, old man," he said in the low monotone in which one addresses a beloved canine friend. Bob's eyes said he thought not, and tie did not wince when THE TYBAST. 21 his master's gentle hand touched the root of th thorn which was buried in the pad. " Wish I'd got some warm water! It's two miles to the nearest inn, Bob, and you're heavy to carry; besides, you wouldn't let me, you obstinate mule, you! Never mind, we'll have a spell of rest, and I'll hold your foot; it eases it, doesn't it, old chap?" Bob said " yes," and looked up with grateful content, his foot clasped tenderly in the strong hand. The man got out a pipe and filled and lit it without disturbing the dog, and as he smoked, looked at a corner of the Towers at the half- ruined tower rising above the moat which he could see from where he sat. " Funny to come upon the old place like this, isn't it, Bob?" he said, with rather a grim smile. " I've pictured it many a time, but never thought I should see it from the tramp's point of view. But that is what is called the irony of fate, old man. "Well, I'm glad I've had a look at it; and now we'll pad the hoof back to London; but we'll get this hoof of yours straight first What's the matter?" The dog had pricked up its ears and emitted a low growl; and the next moment a young girl in a white dress and a black sash, her hair blown loose, with her hat in one hand and a bunch of primroses in the other, bounded from the bank into the road within a few paces of them. The dog was startled and made a rush for her, which startled her; but she stood still and quite calm, though with a touch of colour in the clear pallor of her face. The man sprang to his feet and called the dog; and Bob, after a critical sniff at the white dress and the not much less white hand held out to him, wagged his tail and slowly limped back to his master. The man raised his hat. " I beg your pardon; I'm afraid my dog startl " But Esther did not wait for the rest. " What a beautiful dog!" she said; " and, oh, poor fellow, he is lame! What is it?" " A collie," said the man. She eyed him with a touch of impatience. " Oh, of course, I know that, my good man! I mean what has he done to his leg?" The " good man " bent down to hide a smile, and laid his hand on the dog's head. "It's his foot. He ran a thorn into it yesterday. I ttooght I'd taken it out, but I must have left a piece in" 22 LOVE, THU TYRANT. "Ah, yesl .and it may fester! How painful! I know what he must be suffering. I wonder if I could get it out. May I try? I've got a small pair of tweezers in my knife where is it?*' She felt in the mysterious region where women keep their pockets. " Oh, here it is! I'm not afraid of his biting me. I'm used to dogs, and love them." " He will not bite you," said the man. 4< But he may soil your dress. If yon will give me the tweezers" She looked up at him quickly. Something in his voice, in his manner, surprised her, and made her vaguely uneasy. She had taken him for a common or garden tramp; but his tone, and his face, now that she looked at it, and more espe- cially the dark eyes regarded her so calmly and gravely, knocked the tramp estimate into a cocked hat. " Perhaps if you held him while I tried to get it out " she suggested. He nodded, spoke a word to Bob, who had looked on at- tentively and in courteous silence, and who now held up his paw with dignified and gentle resignation. Esther took the paw and began the usual game with the tweezers. " I shall know if I hurt him, because he will call out," she said. " No, he won't call out," said the man, quietly. " He never complains. He has walked miles with that thing in his foot, and tried to hide the limp." " You are fond of him?" she said, quickly, and leaving off the surgical operation to look up at his face. The man only smiled. " And no wonder! He is a beauty! Such a noble head and kind, gentle eyes! No, I can't reach it, but I know where it is. What shall we do?" She sighed and looked round impatiently. " He can't walk any farther. Oh, would you mind going down the lane till you come to a lodge? You could get a needle there, and some water to bathe his foot. I'll come after you directly. Where have auntie and Toby gone?" They had not gone far, and were now returning: how Miss Worcester had succeeded in turning Toby will forever remain a mystery. " My dear, I thought some accident had happened What is this?" she broke off, eyeing the man and the dog fear- somely. " The dog is lame. Isn't it a beauty, aunt? I never saw ne like it. And I love collies." Now, Miss Worcester was near-sighted, and the man was to COVE, THE TYRANT, 23 Her Jwst a tramp. A brilliant idea seized her, and she rose to ft promptly. " It is a very handsome dog, my dear. Why not buy itf I am sure the young fellow would sell it. Wouldn't you?" The young fellow crimsoned from neck to brow; then, as if ashamed of his sudden emotion, he said, in a matter-of-fact way: " Thank you very much. It would be a kindness to him to change owners. No, I'm afraid he's such a fool as not to think so; so I won't sell him, thanks very much." Esther had gone as red as the man; but to hide her em- barrassment she became cold and impassive at once: it is one of those charming tricks which girls have. " We don't want to buy your dog, thanks," she said, icily. " You can take it to the lodge and tell them that I sent you; and I hope it will soon be all right." The man raised his hat. " Thank you very much. I will be glad to do so. Whose name shall I say?" " Esther Vancourt " she bit her lip, and drew herself up haughtily " Miss Vancourt, of the Towers." CHAPTER III. JACK GOKDON he had almost forgotten his real name, John Vancourt, or his old alias, Arthur Burton, looked after the pony-jingle with a rather curious smile about his lips, then he and Bob went on and found the lodge. It was a large one, for it was the homestead of the home farm, and a little way from the house were the cattle-yard and sheds. Jack looked up admiringly at the low-thatched roof and the old quartering which supported the red brick work, almost covered with clematis and ivy, and wished that he were Miss Vancourt's farmer and lodge-keeper; for he was very tired and hungry, and Miss Esther was not the first person who had mistaken him for a common tramp. As he opened the rustic gate and entered the little front garden, gay and odorous with roses and stocks, a little woman, with a somewhat careworn face, came to the door, and imme- diately shook her head. " I've nothing " she began; bat Jack cri f ; - rather sharply: " You mistake; I'm not begging Ah, yes, by George! but I wii though.' My dog's got a thorn in. his foot, and I 24 LOVE, THE TTRAJST. want a needle and hot water, if you'll be kind enough t let me have them." He did not want to use Miss Vancourt's name unless he were obliged; but the woman still eyed him with a troubled and rather suspicious expression; so he was compelled to add: " I'm sorry to trouble you, but the poor fellow's in pain, and Miss Vancourt gave me permission to ask you." The woman's face cleared. " You saw her?" "With another lady in a pony-carriage," he said. "I aha'n't be more than five or ten minutes, if you'll be so good. I can do it out here on the bench." She nodded, and presently brought him a bowl of hot water, a towel, and a packet of needles. "Now then, old man," said Jack, cheerfully; "get ap here and we'll have this operation over in a jiffy. " Though he had to probe deeply before hs could extract the thorn, Bob never even winced, but looked up in his face with the confiding, grateful look which is only seen in a dog or a horse; and the woman, who stood looking on, was touched by the gentleness of the strong man and the evident love between him and the animal. " It's a beautiful dog," she said, in a low and timid voice. " Is the water hot enough? will you have some more?" "No, thanks," said Jack. "We shall do nicely now that is, if he hadn't to walk so far. We'll rest a lot on the way." " You have walked far already?" she asked, reluctantly. Jack nodded. " We've been walking for exactly seven days and a half." She glanced uneasily at his old boots, and at his worn and shabby clothes. He was evidently a tramp, but very much unlike the species with which she was acquainted. " You can rest here; it's cool and shady," she said. " And would you like a glass of milk?" " Very much, indeed, thank }0u," said Jack, as he bathed Bob's foot. She brought him some, and as he thanked her he raised his weather-stained cap; but he set the glass on the bench beside him, and throwing the water out of the bowl, poured some milk into it and gave it to Bob, and he even waited until Bob had eagerly started on his share before drinking his o?ra. This little bit of unselfishness, natural enough to Jack, broke down the woman's cautiousness, and she went into tht Uouse and brought oat some hme-made cake .on a plate. IOVE, THE TYRANT. 25 Perhaps you he would like some," she said, almost apologetically. " Both of us would," said Jack, " for it's a very long time since breakfast, isn't it, Bob? It's good cake, ma'am; and I'm qualified to know, for I've made it often enough." She coloured faintly and was about to speak, when the cry of a child rose from the room window, and she hurried away. Jack shared the cake with Bob, and leant back in the porch-settle, and indulged in the luxury of a rest and reflec- tion. So that was his dead chum's sister, the Miss Esther Van- court for whom he, Jack, had surrendered his title and estates! Pretty girl more than pretty. And proud, too. Never in his life had he been treated to so much hauteur. He had promised his chum that he would find her and look after her; but it seemed as if she were not in need of much protection, and that she was quite capable of looking after herself. She had said that she would come on to the lodge, and perhaps she might; if so, he would clear out. There was no reason why he should see Miss Esther Vancourt again; she was rich and powerful, and was in the charge of her aunt: yes, he'd be oft', back to London, to look for work. He rose and gathered up the bowl and the other things. " I'll get on my way now," he said, speaking to the open door. " You'll let me bring these things in?" " Thank you," said the woman's voice from the room, and Jack walked in and set the things on the table. The woman was kneeling beside a chair in which was sitting a little girl a pretty little soul, with a thin but flushed face which peered out pitifully from the big shawl wrapped round her; and Jack, to whom children were almost as irresistible as dogs and horses, could not help drawing near and looking at her. " What is the matter with her?" he asked. " She's had the measles," said the mother in a low voice. 4 She ought to be well by now, but she got a chill." "Oh, only measles," said Jack, cheerfully. "That's not much; everybody has measles." The child had half hidden her face behind her shawl, but her unnaturally bright eyes had been watching the stranger, aid something in the tanned, handsome face, the deep, mu- sical voice, must have reassured her, for she said with dignity: " Measles is vewy painful." " So they are!" assented Jack, promptly; " but you'll get over them all right. You've got too much pluck to be beaten by a paltry kind of thing like measle% you. have." 2o LOVE, THE TYEANT. " How do yon know?" said the child, quaintly. " I can see it in the curl of your nose," said Jack, gravely. * Oh, do you always tell that way?" she enquired, much interested. " Always," he said, solemnly. " I'm so tired of sitting here! I want to lie down," she said, with a sigh. " I'm not strong enough, and she can't walk. You must wait till father comes home, Nettie," said the mother, ex- plainingly. " Oh, no, she needn't," said Jack, cheerfully; " I'll carry her." The mother looked grateful but doubtful, and the child shrank back a little; but Jack put his arm round her with that peculiar smile which goes straight to a child's heart. " You're afraid I shall drop you, that's what you are," he said. " I didn't think you were such a coward." "I'm not a coward!" she declared, indignantly, "and I'm not af waid. But perhaps you're afwaid you'll catch the measles; it's awful catchin', isn't it, mother?" Jack pretended to tremble and draw back, but she de- tected the pretence and laughed for the first time for many weeks, the mother remembered. " Well," she said, resignedly. " But don't wrinkle me all up, as father does sometimes." " I'll be as careful as if you were a jelly," he said; and he raised her in his strong arms, drawing the shawl round her with a deftness which surprised the mother, who led the way into an inner room in which was a cot. Jack laid the child on it, gave the pillow a shake, and drew the shawl over her neatly. " How's that, umpire?" he asked, with the same irresisti- ble smile. " Very well, thank you. You did it better than father," she replied. "But I specs you're used to children. Have you got a nice little girl like me?" Jack checked a sigh, though he kept the smile well on. Not for the first time was his loneliness borne in upon him. " No, thank goodnessl" he replied. " See what a trouble they are! Well, good-bye, Nettie. And get well soon, for mother's sake." " I will," she said, holding out her hot little paw. ' Yon may kiss me if you like if you're not weaiiy aiwaid of the measles." LOVE, THE TYRANT. Jff "III risk it," said Jack, and he bent and kig*ed the parched lips. The child watched him with hot, wistful eyes as he fol- lowed the mother out of the room. ** Was that wise?" she asked, anxiously, but with gratitude and liking in her timid eyes. " What? Oh, kissing the child! Good heavens, yes! Be- sides, it wouldn't matter very much if I did. The inside of a hospital would be rather a pleasant change for awhile. She's a very pretty little thing. And there's no need for you to be anxious. She'll do very well." " I don't know how ito thank you," she faltered. " And and I should like to beg your pardon. I took you for a tramp, sir; but but I can see you're not what you seem." "Very few of us are," said Jack, with his short laugh. " But there's no cause for apology; I'm just a tramp, I as- sure you. Good-evening, and thank you very much! I go straight on for Barminster." She went with him to the gate to direct him, and would have liked to hold out her hand, but was afraid. Jack and Bob took the road again and Bob checked the de- sire to limp, and even went so far as to lark about to show that he had completely recovered. His master walked along in a brown study which grew browner as, coming to a bend in the road, he got a very pretty, full view of the Towers. The place looked magnificent in the glow of the setting sun, and, leaning on a stile, Jack looked at it with a frown on his brow and a curious tightening of the lips. " Just as well I'm clearing out," he murmured, " or I should be tempted to think I was being badly treated by Fate. No; I might be tempted, but I fancy I should stand firm. He gave his life for me, and life's worth twenty Vancourt Towers. No; let her keep it. After all, she's better suited to the shop than I am. She's young and pretty, and looks as if she'd play the part to perfection, while I oh, Lord! what should 1 do with a place like that and a quarter of a million of money? What rot I talk! As if I didn't know what I'd do! Wouldn't I have a stable full of horses, and hunt four days a week in winter, and keep a yacht in the bay there, and Ah, well, what's the use of repining, as toe song says. I've given my word, and I'll stand by it." I ought to add that he confirmed this assertion with a word or two, which the highly respectable compositor would very properly refuse to set up; and reluctantly dragging his eyea from toe vast building, the wide-stretching lawn* and parks, 28 K>TB, THE TYRAOT. the stately elms beneath which the deer were placidly feeding^ resumed his tramp. He had not got very far on the high-road when he heard the sound of wheels, and looking round, saw that it was the pony-jingle with the two ladies. His face flushed for an in- stant, and he quickened his pace; for he didn't want another interview with Miss Vancourt of Vancourt Towers; but that young lady was evidently urging Master Toby, and Jack was thinking of turning down a Dye-lane until they had passed, when he heard a commotion on the road in front of him. A small farmer's cart was coming down the road, not in the sober fashion appropriate to such a vehicle, but in a reck- less, rollicking way due to the antics of the horse. It was all over the road at once, and half rearing and kicking; and, as Jack watched it, it looked very much as if it were going to bolt. The driver was standing up in the cart, and when Jack got nearer he saw that the man was " three sheets in the wind." His hat was off, and he was laughing in a happy-go-lucky, reckless wa?, as he tugged at the rope reins. Jack smiled. " He'il come out on that jolly-looking head of his pres- ently," he thought. " Being screwed, he won't, of course, hurt himself: they never do. The horse is a young 'un, and a good one too; as he's sober he'll probably rick himself or something." Then the horse did actually bolt, and Jack's smile died away, for he remembered the pony-jingle which was trun- dling along behind him; the farmer's cart would make ex- ceedingly small 'potatoes of that if it came into collision with it. " Seems to me I'm in luck to-day," he said to himself, grimly. " Of course, I've got to stop that beastly thing, and I shall probably be knocked.down and generally chawed up. I'm nearer that hospital than I thought. Here, Bob, you stand out of it, and take a back seat. Lie down now!" He ran forward as he spoke, and gathering himself to- gether, made ready for a spring. As he did so, the jingle came round the corner, the two ladies saw the little play that was being enacted, and Miss Worcester cried aloud after the manner of her kind. Jack heard it noticing that the girl made no sound as he leapt at the horse. There was a tussle, a clatter of hoofs, and a cloud of dust through which, as through a mist, Esther saw the horse forced back on to its haunches by * supreme ICVE, THE TTBA35T!, 29 effort which, strained every muscle Jack owned. She also saw the low comedian of the play the farmer, to wit come out on his head, as Jack had mentally prophesied. She drew up besitle the cart and jumped out, much to Jack's disgust. " Keep out of the way!" he cried, none too gently, for the advent of the other characters on the scene excited the young mare and set her dancing dangerously near Jack's toes. Esther retreated a few yards and looked on, pale but calrv while Jack and the mare waltzed about in the dust; then, when tne victory was with the man, she came up. "Are you hurt?" she asked. She was trembling just 8 little, and she bit her lip to keep it steady. " I? Not a bit!" said Jack, coolly. " But I shouldn't be surprised if that idiot is;" and he nodded to the jolly-faced figure lying in the dust. She crimsoned painfully. " Oh, I I forgot him for a moment!*' she said, peni- tently; and she went to where her aunt was bending over the man. " Why, it's Martin!" she said. " Oh, Martin, are you hurt?" for Martin had struggled to his feet, and now stood looking extremely sheepish and ashamed of himself. " Not by no means, miss," he replied, touching his fore- head where his ha,t should have been. " Leastways, I think not. What happened, mister? We was a-coming along quiet arid easy like " " Free and easy," said Jack in the tone in which a man who is sober addresses the man who is not. " This is a three* year-old, isn't it? Did you think vou'd got a child's roeking- norse in the shafts?" The man looked at him with a kind of good-tempered re- sentment. " We'd a-been all right if it hadn't stopped suddenly," he said. " For shame, Martin!" Miss Vancourt broke in. " The horse was bolting, and this this gentleman stopped it in the the most wonderful way. It is a marvel he wasn't injured, and that you're not killed." Martin^, though not killed, looked very much wounded in spirit. "Me, miss! Lor* bless your innercenfc heart! I've betn tumbling out of carts all my life " " You'll tumble once too often, my friend," said Jack, who wanted to cut the business short and get on his way. " Tumble up now, and keep a steady hand on her. You're all right bj now, aren't yon?" he added, significantly. 80*, WVE, TEE TYBAOT. The man understood and nodded. " Bight as rain, mister! Sorry I've caused all this rumpus, though if the mare had been let alone " He moved toward the cart, but stopped and winced, and put his hand to his leg with an air of surprise and humiliation. " Blest if I don't think I've been and hurted my blessed leg!" he muttered. " Esther, you surely will not permit the poor man to drive that dreadful horse in his injured condition!" said Miss Worcester, in a flutter of excitement and anxiety. Esther bit her lip softly and looked about her helplessly, then her face cleared. " Of course! Aunt, you must drive to the farm and tell them to send someone, and I'll wait here; unless " Jack saw it coming and resigned himself. " I'll drive him home," he said. " Is it far?" " Oh, will you? Thank you very much," said Esther, with obvious relief. " It is the home farm at the lodge, you know. It is very kind of you, and I we are very much obliged, I'm sure." Jack raised his hat, but was too busy hoisting Martin into the cart to pay much attention to these polite expressions. " We'll follow and wait to see if he is hurt," she added. " He's either broken or sprained his leg the latter, I think," said Jack. " Anyway, he'll want a doctor." " Of course!" said Esther, again, apologetically. " We'll go and fetch him: it is only into the village." Jack made Martin comfortable in the bottom of the cart, and mounting, kept the mare who, with the cuteness of her sex, was well aware that she had met her master at a walk. Presently Martin began to fidget with his hand at his coat, an anxious expression on his ruddy face. " Lost anything?" asked Jack. Martin succeeded in lugging a bottle out of his pocket md, with a sigh of relief, remarked: " It's all right! Blest if I didn't think I'd broke it. It's whiskey have a drop, mister?" Jack laughed and shook his head. " No, not just now, thanks. No, yon don't!" and he took the bottle away as it was approaching Martin's lips. " That's the wrong sort of stuff for your complaint." " Whiskey's good for every thing," said Martin, in a sol- emn and injured tone of voice. " You're talkin' foolish, young man!" They reached the lodge at last, raid Mrs. Martin came LOVE, THE TYRANT. 31 oat. She uttered a little cry, but did not appear to oe over- whelmed with astonishment. " Is he very much hurt this time?" she asked. " Oh, no!" said Jack, cheerfully. " Lean on me, my friend. He's not much hurt. We'll get him upstairs, though. Shut that door there's no need to frighten the child," he added, in a lower voice. The woman looked at him: the mother's look of apprecia- tion and between them they got Martin upstairs. When Jack came down again the jingle was just driving up; and there was annoyance and impatience in Miss Vancourt's face. " The doctor is out," she said. " So provoking! Is he very much hurt?" " Simple fracture," replied Jack. She looked at him. " Are you a a doctor?" she asked. " No," said Jack. " But I've seen a broken leg before. The doctor will be here presently, I suppose?" " Oh, yes; we left word," she said. " How unfortunate it is. And Nettie, Mrs. Martin's little girl, ill. I'll go in and see her; perhaps she's frightened." She entered the little passage, but Jack unceremoniously stepped in front of her and blocked her way. " You can't go in there," he said, in his curt, not to say masterful, way. She looked at him with amazement in her beautiful grey eyes. " What?" she said, her face flushing. ;< Why can I not?'* " The child has the measles," he said, quietly. " Well?" " Well!" he echoed, rather impatiently. " Why, you may catch it; and it's a bad kind." The colour deepened on her face, and her eyes fell before his cool and somewhat weary and bored ones; then she looked up with a liauteur which, if the truth must be told and the truth shall be told of Esther Vancourt in this record was not a little assumed. " Please stand aside. Do you think I'm afraid? I'm I'm ashamed of you!" Jack shrugged his shoulders.and stood aside, and she swept in like a queen; but looking over his shoulder a moment cifter, he saw her kneeling besido the cot and kissing the child, whom she had taken in her arms. " Like the picture in a Cl^Ltaiaa number I" be iaifl tt 32 LOVE. THE TTEA3JT. himself. " Well, I'll be off and take that rememorance of her with me." He called Bob, who was sitting bolt upright eyeing the pro- ceedings with a philosophic calm, and made bis way to the &oorc But he was not to escape so easily. " Oh, where are you going, my good man?" asked Mic , Worcester from the jingle. " To London, ma'am," said Jack, raising his hat. " Oh er really I think you had better stay!" said the old lady, with the calm assurance Jack mentally called it cheek of her age and class. " My niece may want you. At any rate, I shall be glad if you will remain here till she has spoken to you and the doctor conies." Jack bowed and leant against the porch. " 1 chuck up the sponge!" he said to himself, with an air of resignation and long suffering. " Bob, Fate's one too many for us! This is the last time you and I do a friendly deed, old man: the very last time; and don't you forget it!" CHAPTER IV. JACK went round to the stable to see if the young mare waa hurt he had given her in charge of a chuckle-headed youth whose eyes threatened to drop out with staring at the stranger who looked like a tramp and talked like the gentry and wan- dered about the rick-yards until the doctor drove up; then he '^;-.i!red round to the house to see if he could be of any use. I Lie doctor was an old man, bent and grey with years of toil a country doctor's life is perhaps the hardest a man can lead. He sits in a gig or on a horse all day, and there is al- ways the off chance that he will be called up in the night to do a dozen miles or so in rain or snow; but there was a good- tempered twinkle in his shrewd eyes and a cheerful ring in his voice, and though his manners were somewhat brusque, he p/as agentleman. " Well, what is it this time?" Jack heard him ask Mrs. Martin. " Fallen off a haystack, got chawed up by the threshing-machine? Oh, horse run away: broke his leg, has ce? Well, there's one good thing, he can't break his head . it's too thick. Hallo, young lady, what are you doing here?" be broke off, addressing Esther as she came to the door. '-' You've no business here; don't you know there's a case of measles in the house?" Esther laughed. LOTE, THE TYRAOT. " 83 w I've been scolded for that already, doctor,** sh began, giving Him her hand, then she caught sight of Jack and pulled up short. " Yes, Fin sorry to say poor Martin has met with an accident. The mare bolted, and Martin might iia73 been killed " " Not he!" interjected Doctor Grey. " If this this gentleman had not stopped her." The old doctor turned sharply on Jack and scrutinised him keenly. " Humph! Looks as if he could. Not hurt yourself, I see. It's a great pity. Such a nice creature it was the young cart mare, I suppose? And it was market day ah, yes! Just so. Well, I'll go upstairs and settle him. I've Brought my tools; for when 1 heard it was Martin, I knew be'd broken something. I wish they'd put more water in w'i it they call their whiskey at the King's Head." He went upstairs, and Esther stood at the door, and Jack leant on the gate in silence. " We shall be dreadfully late for dinner, Esther," said Miss Worcester, with plaintive resignation. " But we cannot go until we hear the doctor's opinion. Would you mind hold- ing the pony's head, young man?" She was getting tired of sitting in the cramped position de- manded by a jingle, and was still in mortal terror lest Toby, demoralised by example, should take to bolting on his own account. Jack helped her out and stood beside the pony, eyeing it fravely, and apparently unconscious of the presence of the eautiful girl in the porch, who, with equal gravity, was watching him, without appearing to look at him: a sleight of eye which can only be performed to perfection by a woman. Presently Bob rose with a yawn, and ran up to her anc wagged his tail by way of opening a conversation. She sal; down on the settle and took his head in her hands and looked ; nto his big, soft orbs, then lifted his leg and inspected his foot. " Your dog seem to be all right now," she said, her clear voice carrying to Jack quite easily. " Did you get the thorn out?" " Oh, yes," he said. " By the way, Miss Vancourt, I dioi not thank you for your kind attempts. " Esther raised her brows: for it was not usual for men in seedy attire, with unwaterproof boots> to address her as " Miss Vancourt." There was no disrespect in the tone, but a sug- gestion of equality that Esther thought rather strange. 34 WVE, THE TTRAKli. " Bob was very grateful, and so was I, though we forgot, C :> mention it" " I am fond of dogs," she said, " especially when they are well-bred and handsome, and beautifully mannered, as this one is." " Ah, yes," said Jack. " Though you often find a com- mon mongrel well-mannered and affectionate: but beauty and birth have the first pull, of course." " This accident has detained you, I am afraid." she said, after a pause. " Oh, it's of no consequence," remarked Jack, resignedly. " I'm in no particular hurry. It's all in the day's work." Esther looked at him curiously not for the first time. " What is your work?" she asked. " Nothing at present. I'm looking for some. I've been working at the docks dock labourer, you know; but I snj pose I can call myself a farmer farm-hand." " You will find it difficult to find work now," said Esther. " All the farmers have engaged their men; they do so afc Lady Day, and it's just past." " I daresay," he assented. " I'm going to London. There's always the docks there, if there's nothing else." " It is terribly hard work, isn't it?" she asked. " I've read about the men at the docks, and I know they carry tre- mendous weights." *' Oh, it's hard enough, but I've seen harder. You don't think this pony is going to run away, do you?" Esther laughed by way of reply, and Jack, who objected to talking at such a distance from his auditor, strolled up the garden. Esther coloured faintly, for there was something to er rather appalling in this young man's coolness, not to say sang-froid. And, woman-like, she was fighting against his evident strength and equally obvious grace. " Do you like driving?" he asked, after a pause, as he leant against the porch. " Oh, yes," replied Esther, wondering what he was going to say now, and whether she was going to be offended, "Why?" " Oh, well, I daresay you will think it is like my cheek; but I was wondering why you didn't drive something different to that little beast, which, regarded as a nursery toy, is well enough, but as a horse, leaves something to be desired. B" f perhaps you like going at two miles an hour?" " No, I don't , said Esther, indignantly. " But will, I yrtfer it to a regular carriage, and though there is a 4og LOVE, THE TYEAST. 35 cart, of course, I'm not used to it. I've only been at the Towers a short time that is, I didn't know whether they were mine " She coloured and bit her lip, feeling that the dark eyes were studying her coolly. " I beg your pardon: very rude of me. But you should try it. Given a well-balanced dog-cart with a clinking mare Here's the doctor. " " All right, my dear young lady. Only a broken leg." " Only!" said Esther. " Do Martin all the good in the world to be quiet a bit; that is, if he doesn't worry; and he doesn't usually; but he's worrying now. Seems that he's a man short his foreman left him suddenly, and Martin declares things will all go wrong if he can't get about. Where's the young man who played the hero? Oh, there you are! Do you want me to go over you? Sure you haven't broken or sprained anything? That young mare is strong and heady." " Quite sure, thanks," said Jack. " Well, I'll be moving. Glad it's nothing serious with the farmer. Good-day!" He raised his hat and prepared to depart, and as he did so, Esther, with a touch of colour in her face, leant forward and said something in a low voice to the doctor. " Eh? What? Yes; just so; but we don't know anything about him," he muttered, in response. " Oh, I'm sure he's he's honest, and can be trusted!" said Esther, swiftly. " Be quick, doctor, or he'll be gone!" The keen eyes looked at her, as if he were amused by her impetuosity. " Oh, if you answer for him " he said. " Hi, young man!" Jack stopped with a sigh and an inaudible word of one syllable. " Are you looking for a job? Excuse my abruptness." " Certainly," replied Jack, courteously. " Y-es. I am." " Well, here's one ready to drop into your mouth!" said the doctor. " My friend Martin wants a hand a foreman and Miss Vancourt tells me you have been a farm-hand, and she is kind enough to speak for you." Esther hadn't bargained for this, and she coloured, then drew herself up and gazed straight before her with the in- difference of a hundred-ton gun. Jack stood with his hands in his pockets, the picture of doubt and uncertainty; and the doctor, rather nettled by the young fellow's hesitation, said: 36 LOVE, THE TYRAlHi " It's a good offer, my young fr^nd, and if 1 were yon 1 should jump at it." " Right," said Jack. " I jump." The doctor smiled. " That's better. Well, you'd better come in at once, I should think. Go upstairs and talk to Martin I'll give you ten minutes. I suppose you've got a character?" " Yes," said Jack, gravely; " but it's not a particularly good one." The doctor tried to look grave, but there was a twinkle in his shrewd eyes. " I'm sorry to hear that but we'll risk it. You've got the right look about you." '* Thank you: it's about all I've got about me," said Jack, pleasantly; *' and I'm much obliged to you for giving me tha place. I won't let Martin overtalk himself." " From your style I should say you'd been abroad colonies Australia, eh?" queried the doctor, eyeing the stalwart figure and tanned face curiously. " Oh, I've been around a bit," assented Jack. Esther had risen, but seemed, somehow, as if she could not go until the colloquy was over; but she walked down the path now, and Jack went and opened the gate for her. " Thank you, Miss Vancourt," he said, simply. She inclined her head in the best lady-of-the-manor style and passed out; but Jack, undaunted, helped the ladies into the jingle and closed the door in proper form. " What a singular young man!" said Miss Worcester, as they drove off. " But he has behaved remarkably well. I'm sure it was shocking, the way that dreadful horse and he struggled! I never saw such a thing! For a common tramp, he displayed extraordinary heroism." " I don't fancy he is a common tramp, aunt," said Esther, thoughtfully. " No? Perhaps you didn't notice his clothes, my dear Esther. My eyes are sharp, and I am a particularly observ- ant woman." Miss Esther had noticed a great deal more than the young man's clothes; but she said nothing, and Miss Worcester rambled on: " To tell you the truth, I was rather taken by the poor fel- low; his manners were almost almost gentlemanly." " I think he was rather forward," said Esther, severely. J^ " Yes? Well, perhaps they were. He is very good-look LOVE, THT5 TYRAUT. Jfl iig. It is strange how sometimes one sees a really high type of face among the quite common neople. And his voice Esther burst out laughing, but it was rather an impatient laugh. " My dear aunt, don't let us talk any more about him, or th^ whole affair will get on my nerves, and you know what that means. Get up, you you nursery toy! Aunt, do yon think you'd be afraid to ride in a dog-cart? " A dog-cart!" echoed Miss Worcester, aghast. " My -dear Esther, what ever put that into your head? " I I don't know," replied Miss Vancourt, turning her head away to hide the blush which caused her very much an- noyance. " I I just happened to think of it. Beally, Toby is too ridiculous!" She was silent after this condemnation of Toby. Presently Miss Worcester remarked that they really were dreadfully late for dinner. " I wonder whether they will think to giye him any?" said Esther, absenrty. " Him? Whom?" asked her aunt, ot reasonably sur- prised. Esther coloured again. " The the young man," she said. " My dear Esther, why should you worry yourself about; him! Of course they will, or he'll ask for it; that class of people always do Why, dear me; what can that be!" she broke off, staring before her, in her near-sighted fashion. They were jogging up the avenue by this time, and Esther, looking up, saw a gentleman standing on the terrace. He was in evening-dress and had the air of having bean waiting for pome time. " Looks like a human man," she said, coolly; but she was not without curiosity. Miss Worcester reddened with conf usion and nervousness. " My dear Esther, it is Mr. Lay ton!" she gasped. Esther turned to her quickly. " But he does not come until to-morrow the seven- teenth," she said. Miss Worcester's agony was painful to witness. " Was it the seventeenth or the sixteenth? I thought it was the seventeenth,' but it may have been to-day J My dear Esther, what a dreadful mistake! What shall we 4o?" Esther laughed and glanced at the gentleman. He was a young man, and good looking, distinguished looking rather than handsome, with a smile that was almost too sweet for a g LCWE, THE TTEA3ST. man, but Wmon war counterbalanced, connfcerscted, by a peculiar tidst of the upper lip. " Is it Mr. Lay ton?'* she asked in a low roice. " Yes yes! murmured Miss Worcester, agitatedly. " What will he think, Esther?" " That we're late for dinner, I should say." " He he doesn't look as if he were ill-tempered afcout it- he's smiling so," said poor Miss Worcester. " Y-es," asserted Esther, in a low voice; " I wish he Wouldn't." Meanwhile, the man with the smile was saying to himself, s& he came to meet them: " So she's pretty, is she? That makes it more difficultl" . OHAPTEE V. ME. LAYTOST stood, hat in hand, waiting with a smOo for the introduction. " This is Mr. Selby Layton, Esther," said Miss Worcester, nervously. Mr. Layton bowed, but Esther held out her hand. " We are very glad to see you, Mr. Layton," she said, "and you must be very glad to see us. I'm afraid yon thought you were not going to get any dinner to-day. I am eorry we are so late; but we haVe had a chapter a whole volume of accidents " " Please don't apologise," he said in a peculiarly soft voice which had something caressing in it. " I only arrive^ a short time ago, and I was afraid that it was I who would be late." Miss Worcester drew a breath of relief. " So nice of you to say so," she murmured; " and we will not keep you a moment longer than we can help will we, Esther?" " I do hope you will not hurry," he responded, with almost unnecessary earnestness. " The short time I have waited has been so pleasantly passed looking at the glorious view from the terrace, and admiring the front of this grand old place." Now, he could not have hit upon a shorter cut to Esther's favour, for she was already proud of the Towers, and praise of it was sweet in her shell-like ears. So she smiled at him for the first time, and Selby Layton felt that he had said the right thing. " We will be vary quick," said Esther. "Will yon go into the drawing-room, or would you rather wait here?" They had reached the terrace by this time. S0v"E, THE TYSAOT. '^ **0h, here, please, if I may," he said, softly. Esther ran up the stairs, followed more slowly and sedately by Miss Worcester, and Selby Layton looked after her before he turned back to the terrace. As he did so the smile faded from his face, his well-cut lips drew together thoughtfully, and his eyes grew sharp. " She's more than pretty: she's beautiful will be very much so. A charming girl; but no fool, my dear Selby. There's a look in those grey eyes which 1 don't alto- gether like. I shall have to go slow and cautiously very cautiously. What a place it is!" He looked round him slowly with a new expression in his eyes: the expression against which the commandment, " Thou shalt not covet,** is especially applicable. " And all in the hands of a girl a girl who was only a few weeks ago giving music-lessons to tradesmen's daughters! The old man's will was worse than wicked: it was absurd. What could I not have done with this? Well, who knows? It's not too late!" He stroked his fair and carefully cultivated moustache with a hand as white and slim and as small as a woman's, and lighting a cigarette, leant his elbows on the rail and smoked thoughtfully. In her eagerness for her seeming neglect of him, Miss Worcester was dressed first, and she went to Esther's door and knocked. Esther knew the nervous, timid knock, and said: " Come in!" The maid had gone down for a flower for Esther. " Ready already, aunt?" she said. " Sorry to keep yon waiting; and it's my fault, not Marie's. Yon see, I'm not used to a maid, and, as Marie says, I don't * keep quiet.' If I'd stand like a wooden image or a dress-block she would get me dressed ever so much sooner. Poor Marie, I'm afraid I try her dreadfully." * Yes, my dear, I daresay you do," said Miss Worcester. " What what do you think of Mr. Layton, Esther?" " I'm afraid I haven't thought much about him, aunt," responded Esther. " He seems very gentlemanly how I hate the word! It's nearly as bad as f respectable,' and if he wouldn't smile quite so much and hadn't quite so soft a voice " " My dear Esther! I am sure he has an exceedingly pleas- ant smile, not to say sweet, and his voice is very refined " " '-Our double refined oil,' " murmured Esther, quoting from the grocer's advertisement. THE TYRANT. " And he has been exceedingly kind. He is the only one of the family who lias taken the least notice of us! All the rest have been most unfriendly." " Not unnaturally," remarked Esther. Indeed it was not unnatural that the Vancourts should be " unfriendly " to the young girl who had " stepped into " the vast estates and fortune of Sir Richard. It was not a large family, and all the members were only remote relations. But they had flocked to the funeral in the hope of receiving some crumbs from the dead rich man's table, and had gone away bitterly disappointed. That Sir Eichard should leave everything to his nephew, Sir John, was bad enough, but that, this nephew having died out in Australia, the whole should go to a girl as distantly connected as the others, was infin- itely worse. Some of them had maintained a sullen silence, others had threatened to upset the will much to Messrs. Floss & Floss's amusement but only one had extended the hand of friendship to the heiress. This one was Mr. Selby Layton. He was a " thirty-second cousin," or something of the sort, to Sir Eichard, and had conie down to the funeral with so little expectation of deriving any benefit from the will that he was not in the least disap- pointed. But, whereas the rest had departed shaking thb Just of the Towers from their feet, he had gone away cheerfully if thoughtfully, and had written a letter of congratulation to Esther, and had even called at the little house in the dreary, dingy street ia which Esther and Miss Worcester lived. Esther had been out teaching at the time, and had not had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Selby Layton; but Miss Worcester had seen him and been very much impressed by his good looks, his pleasant manner, and more than all by his charm- ing smile and sweet voice. It was she who had suggested that he should be asked to pay them a visit, and Esther had at once complied; and the more readily by reason of Mr. Selby Layton being one of the relations left out in the cold. She felt so much pity for them that she was anxious to do something for them, and would have been quite willing to share, say, half Sir Eichard's money with them; but Mr. iHoss, the senior partner of the firm, had his own ideas on that project, and nipped it in the bud. But the desire still remained with Esther; and while her aunt was singing the praises of Mr. Selby Layton, Esther was asking herself whether that gentleman might not be able to help her in the matter. "And I am sure he is very good-natured," said Miss 1OVE, THE TYRANT. 41 " There he is on the terrace smoking a cigarette quite contentedly, though we are dreadfully late, and men do so hate being kept without their dinner. Don't you think he has a very distinguished appearance, Esther?" Esther went to the window as she put the finishing touch to her toilette, and looked down at the gentleman lounging not ungracefully on the terrace below. " Y-es, I suppose he has," she said, absently; then she flushed svith a tinge of shame, for she had caught herself com- paring the elegant figure of Mr. Layton with that of the young man who had stopped the runaway mare. " And he looks so clever. But I suppose all barristers are clever," remarked Miss Worcester. " 1 suppose so," said Esther; " it's their only excuse. I don't like lawyers, aunt, since I've seen something of them." " But I don't think he practises," said Miss Worcester; *' in fact, I think I remember his saying so. I do hope you'll like him, my dear." " Why, of course," assented Esther. " What a lovely spray, Marie! How did you manage to get it? Mr. Gib- son " Mr. Gibson was the gardener, retained at a tremendous salarv to grow flowers which he guarded jealously from the attacks of even his mistress " is so reluctant to cut his flowers," Marie hid a smile. " I told him that they were for yourself, miss," she said, " for you to wear, and I coaxed him into letting me choose them." Esther smiled. " I must thank him to-morrow morning when I go into the green-house." " Thank him for your own flowers, Esther!" exclaimed Miss Worcester. " Well, they're mine, I suppose I never feel quite sure; but I am sure that Gibson considers them his. Anyway, he grows them." Marie fixed the spray of delicate white blossoms in Esther's dress, and looked at her young mistress with approval and admiration, for the graceful figure in the soft folds of black net which threw up the clear pallor of the beautiful face and the deep grey of the eyes, made an exquisite picture of girlish loveliness. " All my war-paint on, Marie? Well, then, we'll go down and face our natural foe Man," said Esther, smiling. Mr. Layton was awaiting them in the drawing-room, and 42 LOVE, THE Palmer, the butter, with a more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger air, at once announced dinner. Mr. Layton gave his arm to Misa Worcester, and Esther followed them into the dining-room. The daylight was beginning to wane, and the candles had been lit, and the soft light fell pleasantly on the handsome room with its rich but subdued decorations, and upon the magnificent plate and glass for which the Towers was as famous as for its pictures and collection of bric-a-brac. Esther, at the nead of the oval table, was rather silent and absent-minded, and left most of the talking to Miss Worces- ter, but Mr. Selby Layton was quite at his ease and conversed pleasantly and with that slow fluency which obtains in good society. Erery now and then he glanced at the young girl, and at every glance his admiration increased. There was something impressive ia the calm serenity of the violet eyes, an. impress! veness which was deepened by the sudden anima- tion with which she roused from her abstraction and joined in the conversation when it touched on a subject which inter- ested her. Palmer and his two footmen waited with perfectly trained assiduity, and the dinner, notwithstanding its postponement, was an admirable one. When the dessert had appeared, and the servants departed, Esther woke up to the duties of a hostess. " Would yon like port or claret, Mr. Layton?" she said. " There are both here I'll pass t'.em; and presently you will want to smoke, won't you? All men smoke after their meals, don't they? There is a billiard- and smoking-room at the end of the hall ; but you won't care to sit there in solitude. Please smoke your cigarette here. We will wait until you have lit your cigarette, because we like the scent of it, don't we, auntie?" Another man might have protested that he didn't want to smoke; but Selby Layton was too clever for such a banality, and he took out his silver cigarette-case presently. Esther lingered for a minute or two, then rose. " You will find your way to the drawing-room, Mr. Lay- ton? But please don't hurry. Enjoy your cigarette." When he had opened the door for them, and returned to his .place, Selby Layton leant back and smoked in serene en- joyment; but he was very thoughtful as his eyes wandered round the magnificent room and rested on the pictures and the plate, the bronzes and the antique glass. "Yes, she's lovely," he murmured, " and a lady. Strange how she manages to look and speak as if she'd been uaod LOVE, THE TYRANT. 43 11 this from her birth! Scarcely spoke to me through dinner, and wasn't even listening half the time. Wonder what she was thinking of? The old lady will be easy enough soft as putty but the girl ! I've got my work cut out for me. Anyhow, I've got a fair start. There can't be any one else, yet and " He did not finish the sentence, but turned his head and surveyed his reflection in the great mirror on the wall at his side. Esther went straight to the piano and began to play softly and dreamily, so softly that Miss Worcester could " talk through " the music. " Remarkably pleasant he seems, Esther," she said, taking up the knitting with which Esther had been familiar since she was a child. *' He is a barrister, and he doesn't practise. 1 think he has a small income of his own. And he moves in very good society. Did you hear him mention Lady Blan- kyre?" " No; I wasn't listening all the time," said Esther, ab- sently. How sternly, almost roughly that young man, " the tramp," had ordered her to stand away from the mare " I was thinking about something else." " You are so dreamy, my dear Esther," said Miss Worces- ter, with gentle rebuke; " I remember I used to call your attention to that failing as a child. He lives in rooms in. Claremont Street, May Fair, and he is fond of music and er art generally. I think he is a highly cultivated young man." " Is he?" said Esther. How quietly " the tramp " had spoken to his dog. Perhaps, if she, Esther, had been a dog he wouldn't have spoken so roughly to her? " Yes, oh, remarkably so. And did you notice his hands, Esther?" " I'm afraid I didn't, aunt" " They are really beautiful hands; almost like a woman's." " Don't think I like small hands in a man sign of weak- ness. Anyway, it's poaching on our preserves, aunt!" " Nonsense, Esther! And he really is very kind and thoughtful. He has been making enquiries about the young baronet, poor Sir John " Esther stopped her playing, and looked round with sudden interest. " Yes? Why did he do that? What has he discovered?" " Discovered? Nothing more than we know; but you can ask him. Here he comes. Now, would be like a liqueur 44 ICVE, THE TYBAITR with his coffee, or not, Esther? I've heard that men like* . liqueur " Esther shrugged her shoulders, " Then I daresay Palmer has given it to him." She turned as Selby Layton came in with the slow self-pos- session of a man who is conscious of his grace am? his good looks. " You have found out something about my cousin is he my cousin Sir John Vancourt, Mr. Layton?" she said, with her characteristic directness. He went to the piano and leant against it, his legs crossed, his head bent, with a mixture of ease and respect. " I have been making some enquiries," he said;. " but 1 have discovered little that is new very little beyond what ii already known. Sir John he is your cousin, hut ever sc many times removed certainly died in Australia. He was shot by bushrangers, and was discovered immediately aftei his death his murder by the police, who identified him and supplied Messrs. Floss & Floss, the lawyers, with the infoi* mation and proof." Esther bent over the piano and touched the keys softly. " Poor fellow!" she said in a low voice. " To lose his life just as it had become worth living!" Mr. Layton looked down sympathetically, then his lip twisted; and Esther, who was quick-eyed, looked at him en quiringly. " Don't you think so!" she asked. Selby Layton seemed to hesitate. " He was very ill with fever so the police said when he was shot, and would not, in all probability, have lived. I an afraid he had lived rather a wild life." Esther's fingers stopped as if she were interested. " How do you know that?" she asked. " I met a man who had been out in the same parts, and had heard of Sir John Arthur Burton, as he called himsell and my informant told me that Arthur Burton was one of the maddest of the mad, that all sorts of stories were told of him. A sort of desperado, I gathered. He had for compan- ion * chum,' they call ita man as reckless and wild at himself. I suppose it was the man who was with him when he was killed." " What was his name this * chum ' of Arthur Burton's it is so difficult to remember that he was Sir John VmcourV Esther said, thoughtfully. " I don't know," replied Selby Layton. " ijy inforoiaa LOVE, THE TTRA2fT. 45 the maa who told me all this did not know his name; and afcrange to say, the police, in their information, failed to give it. Either they did not know it, or they had forgotten it." " What became of him this other man?" asked Esther, musingly. " I should like to see him, to hear all about Sir John." Selbv shrugged his shoulders. " He disappeared rather suddenly, and could not be found, though the police wanted his evidence in the case. .iTher searched for him, but could not trace him. I imagine it la easy for a man to hide himself out there; there are plenty of persons wimng to aid him in escaping, disappearing." Esther's brows came together. " Why should he want to disappear escape?" she mur- mured, more'lohsiaelf than to Mr. Layton. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders again. " No doubt he had sufficient reasons," he said. " But he is of no importance " " He was Sir John's friend and companion was present fit his death," said Esther in a low voice. " Ah, yes, yes; just so!" murmured Mr. Layton, sympa- thetically. " I know that there was plenty of proof of Sir John's death without the missing man's evidence. There is no question as to your right of possession, Miss Vaucourt." " No; I'm afraid not," said Esther, with a sigh. " Is thafc all 7ou heard, Mr. Layton." " That is all," he said, after a moment's pause, as if ho were thinking. " I thought you would like to hear it." " Thank you, yes. I am greatly obliged to you. I won- der whether I could ask you to add to the obligation?" She looked up at him with sweet gravity, and Selby Lay- ton's eyes sparkled. There was nothing he desired more than. to place the heiress of Vancourt Towers under a real or sup- posed obligation to him. ** I should be greatly honoured and greatly pleased if I could be of the slightest service to you, Miss Vancourfc," he* said, with just the proper amount of eagerness. Esther hesitated a moment or two, touching the keys too softly to produce any sound. " As you know, Mr. Layton," she said at last, and with a faint touch of colour in her face, " I have inherited have got the whole everything that was Sir Richard's the land and the house and the money." " Yes," he said, simply. " And I am sore it oould not ha?e fallen into better hands." 46 LOVE, THE TYRANT. " And I think it could scarcely have fallen into worse!" said Esther, flashing. " A young girl, unaccustomed to wealth- But we won't argne that; you would stick to your assertion for the sake of politeness what I wanted to say was, that I wanted to share some of the money with the other relations." Mr. Layton inclined his head. " All distant ones," he murmured, " so remote that there is actually no one to succeed to the baronetcy, and it is there- fore extinct." " They are not more remote than I am," said Esther, " and they have a right to feel disappointed and neglected. Now, I want to to make it up to them a little." " Yes, yes," he murmured. " The lawyer, Mr. Floss " " Won't hear of it," she said, " and I "-she laughed " am terribly afraid of that old man." Mr. Layton smiled. " He is rather fearsome," he admitted. Esther laughed again. " He has a way of knitting his brows and saying * Tnt, tut!' which fills my soul with awe. He knit his brows very much, and said l Tut, tut!' four distinct times when I told him what I wanted to do. He said I was too young, that I had no right to play the part of a female Quixote, and, im short, browbeat me. But I have a large income, have I not?" " Very; one might, without exaggerating, call it im- mense," said Mr. Selby Layton, with a soft smile, but sup- pressing a sigh of envy. " Very well, then; why shouldn't I devote half of it to to the others who were left nothing?" Mr. Selby Layton was filled with horror at the idea, for to him such a proposal seemed absolutely wicked. " If you could afford it," he said, thoughtfully. " Afford it! just now you said my income was immense," remarked Esther. " Ah, yes; but so also is the estate, and it will take a large sum of money to keep it going." Esther sighed and laughed with a touch of impatience. " You are almost as bad as Mr. Floss!" she exclaimed. " Oh, not quite, I hope," he said, with his sweet smile. " I was merely suggesting that a half is a large amount pos- sibly too large." " Well, then, a third, a quarter what I can afford!" said Esther, impatiently. " I thought you would help me to do this without Mr. Floss knowing anything about it* I suppose LOVE, THE TYRANT. 47 I can spend xriis money how I please, if I keep up the estate properly?" " Certainly!" he said. " And I shall be more than glad to help you. Need I say that I am also proud of your confi- dence, Miss Vancourt?" His voice was as soft as the note of a flute, and he bent for- ward with a smile sweeter than ever. Esther nodded. "It's very good of you. I am afraid it will give you a great deal of trouble I haven't realised yet how much, foi the idea has only just come into my head. But I thought you would be able to find out which of them were in need of of money, assistance you know them, perhaps; I don't, you see." " I am ashamed to say I don't," he said. " I have lived apart, they are so scattered But I will find out, and make a list, on one condition. Miss Vancourt." " What is that?" asked Esther, looking tip quickly. " That you except one person." " Yes?" she said, curiously. " Who is that?" " Selby Layton," he said in a low voice. Esther coloured.. " What must you think of me? It was as if I had been offering you money!" she said, quickly. " But I didn't even know that you were poor." He laughed with an admirable assumption of frankness. " I am as poor as the proverbial church mouse," he said, lightly. " I trust I am also honest, but certainly I am proud. So exclude Sslby Layton from the list: that is agreed?" Esther inclined her head. She did not know what to say. There was silence for a moment or two. Then she looked up. " This must be a secret between us, please, Mr. Layton. I do not wish any one to know of my idea." She glanced at Miss Worcester, nodding over her knitting, and Selby Layton, with inward exultation, bowed. " Yes, yes; I quite understand," he murmured. " Yon may trust me. I think I know exactly what you want: To benefit those of the family who need assistance without letting them know from whence it comes." Esther nodded. " That is it exactly!" she said, quickly, and in as low a voice. " I am very grateful to you, Mr. Layton." " The gratitude is on my side for your trust and confi- dence in me," he said, very sweetly. Esther threw her head back with an air of relief. 48 LOVE, THE TYRANT. " Do you care for music?" she asked. " If so, I will p'% to you. I am afraid you will find it very dull and slow here. ' ' She did not wait for him to protest, but began to play. He went to a chair, and leant back, and begged her to play again; and she was about to do so, when she said, as if she had suddenly thought of it: " Perhaps you play or sing? Pray do so, if you do." He shrugged his shoulders apologetically, and hesitated, but got up at last and went to the piano. There were many persons who disliked, not to say hated, Mr. Selby Lay ton; but no one had ever possessed the temerity to deny that he was a musician. Esther had moved away from the piano, expecting the kind of performance on the piano which men generally treat us to; but as Selby Layton struck the first chords of an accompani- ment, she turned her head with a sharp and sudden surprise and interest; and as the song progressed, her eyes began to deepen to a violet hue; for the man not only had an exquisite voice, but played and sang like an artist. And with Esther music was a passion. Miss Worcester, roused and startled, raised her eyebrows and whispered: " My dear Esther, what a beautiful voice!" But Esther paid no heed. The " beautiful voice " was holding her in thrall. The notes were rich and liquid, and the phrasing perfect. Mr. Selby Layton at, and away from, the piano, were two different persons. The colour stole into Esther's face, her eyelids drooped, and her bosom hsaved slowly, and every fibre of her being responded to the flood of melody which floated, now soft and tender, now deep ( and sol- emn, through the large room. Mr. Selby Layton appeared appeared (juite unconscious of the effect he was producing, and sang quite easily, looking before him as if he were trying to remember the words of the song, and as if he were doing the most natural thing in the world. When the exquisite notes of the finale had died away, Esther went straight up to the piano. " Why didn't yon say you sang like like a Sims Reeves?" she said. Selby Layton looked up at her wth the sweet smile and a little air of surprise. " It's a good thing Sims Reeves can't hear you, Miss Van- court. He'd be almost as shocked as I am," he said. " But I'm glad you liked the song," he added, as be rost. THE TYBAOT. 49 "Don't thiiut of getting up!*' she said, almost imperi- ously. " You ought to be chained to a piano." " Rather like a monkey," he retorted, with a pleasant lau^h; but he resumed his seat and sang again. This time it was just a simple ballad; but what a ballad Mr. Selby Layton made of it! The tears were not far from Esther's eyes as she listened. " You'd make a fortune on the stage," she said in her abrupt fashion. He smiled a modest repudiation. " Oh, no; I assure you not! There are thousands of bet- ter voices." Esther shook her head. *' I know. I " with mock consequence '' taught masicfe you know." He was hunting amongst the music and held up a song. " Will you do me the great favour?" Bir Esther shook her head. " I'd rather not." He turned over the music again and found a duet. " Then, will you siug this with me?" he asked, very sweetly. Esther shrugged her shoulders and went reluctantly to the piano. The duet went well, but Esther noiiced that Mr. Selby Layton artfully in the literal sense of the word-- subordinated his voice to hers throughout the whole of it. " You are nursing me," she said, laughing. " No, I won't sin? again: I think I'm tired." M.-ss Worcester rose and rolled up her knitting. " You know your room, Mr. Layton. I hope everything is comfortable." He bowed and accompanied them to the hall, and Esther pointed to the door of the billiard -room. " You will find there the things the soul of a man loveth before he goes to bed, Mr. Layton," she said, as she wished him good-night. Mr. Selby Layton held the small, warm hand, and would have liked to press it, bat there was something in the calm gaze of the lovely grey eyes which checked him. But he went off to the billiard-room very well pleased with himself; and as he mixed a glass of soda and whiskey, and lit one of the choice Havanas which Sir Richard had left, with the rest of his worldly goods, to Miss Esther Vancourt, he smiled complacently. " Not bad lor one night. I'm in her confidence and 50 LOVE, THE TTBANT. charged with a secret mission : and my voice did its little part. Not bad by any means. How beautiful she is! I've always had a fancy for a good-looking wife. This girl satisfies my artistic sense." He looked round the room critically. " All very good, excepting the frieze: I should alter that!'* When Esther had almost driven her aunt out of her room, she stood in a dressing-gown before the glass humming softly the notes of Mr. Selby Layton's ballad, and thinking of the scheme for benefiting Sir Richard's poor relations; but sud- denly her mind switched off, and with a start she remembered the stalwart young man of whom she had seen so much that day. She went to the window and drew the curtain back a little and looked out. She could see the roof of the home- farm quite plainly in the moonlight, and she stood and looked at it dreamily for a minute or two; then, with a sudden gest- ure of impatience, she let the curtain fall back to its place, and turned away, as if she were annoyed at herself for think- ing of him. But when she had fallen asleep, the tall figure, the tanned face, the deep musical voice with its masterful tone, haunted her in her dreams. CHAPTER VI. WHEN Esther and Miss Worcester had driven away, Jack stood at the gate and looked after them with anything but a pleased expression of countenance. For though he had ob- tained employment, it was at the last place he would have chosen. It was all very well to give tip his estates to a young lady, but he had not calculated upon having to spend some time in looking on while that young lady ruled over his land and spent his money* " But it's all in the day's work," he said to himself. " It's for her brother's sake the brother who gave his life for me. But it's been a queer performance to-day, all through! I wonder whether there's a scene in which dinner comes in, for I'm precious hungry." At that moment, as if she had read his thoughts, Mrs. Martin came to the'door and timidly called him in, and Jack found a substantial meal awaiting him. " I thought you might be hungry," she said, apologetically. " Mrs. Martin, you have just saved my life, but it's by the narrowest squeak!" said Jack, as he sat down and fell to. " I omght to be used to feeling half famished, for there hav LOVE, THJE TYSAUT. 51 been days In my life when everything has occurred but mealc. You don't mind my giving Bob this bone? He's a perfect gentleman and will take it on the mat." Mrs. Martin shook her head. " I'm glad you're going to stay, Mr. " She hesitated. " Gordon Jack Gordon," said Jack, helping himself to a dice of the home-cured ham. " I don't know what we should have done if you hadn't come as you did. It's Providence, I suppose." Jack thought that market-day and whiskey had something to do with it, but didn't say so. " Our last foreman looked after the farm almost entirely; for Martin " She paused again; but Jack understood. " I'll do my best, Mrs. Martin," he said. " But Martin must please make allowance for my short-comings. I think I can say I understand farming. It was very good of Miss Vancourt to recommend me and on such slight acquaint- ance. It seems to me that you are all very confiding: for how do you know I sha'n't murder you all in your beds and bolt off with the the spoons?" Mrs. Martin smiled, and did not appear to think the ques- tion required an answer. _^ at " She is a very kind young lady," she said. "Poor thing!" Jack looked up from the plate. " Poor thing!" " Yes," said Mrs. Martin, with a sigh. " She is quite a girl, to have so much money and responsibilities laid upom her." " Oh, she'll bear up under it, you'll see," said Jack, cheer- fully, thinking how well he could have endured the weight of Vancourt Towers and Sir Richard's untold thousands. " And now, as, I am sorry to say, I cannot eat any more, I think I will go round the farm, if I may." " I'll call Georgie, and he'll show you," said Mrs. Martin. " He'll show you the foreman's cottage. You can sleep there there isn't room here but you may have your meals here, for a time, at any rate. I hope you will be comfortable." Jack laughed easily. "I've slept in the open too often, and not in the best of weather, to be very particular; and I expected nothing better than a shake-down in a hay-loft, where Bob and I have slept several times, and like tops." 52 LOVE, THE TYBAUT. He lit his pipe asking permission first, Mrs. Martin no- ticed and went out, followed by Bob. As his firm step sounded on the sanded floor, Nettie's voice called out in a thin treble: " Is 'oo coming back?" " Yes," he called back. " My name is Bad Penny. Didn't you know that? You go to sleep." With the gaping Georgie at his s ide, Jack went round a portion of the farm. The late foreman was supposed to have " seen to it entirely;" but he had seen to it very badly. Jack's keen eye detected bad management and waste in every direction. " And they wonder why farming doesn't pay in England/" he said to Bob, but in too low a voice for Georgie to hea^, " I should like to know what Miss Vancourt's butter and eggs cost her. Half a crown a pound, and five shillings a dozen, I should say. Well, we'll try and alter it a bit, old man; and much thanks we'll get for it! No matter; directly our friend Martin is well enough to get about, we'll bolt." They came to the cottage presently it was some distance from the lodge and Jack found it to be a pretty little box of a place with three tiny rooms, a thatched roof, and a rough little garden from which the clematis clambered over the walls and round the small windows. Jack thought of the hideously ugly shepherd's hut " out on the other side," ani looked at the cottage admiringly, and sighed. He went in, A farm-girl had lit a fire, and the two rooms the sitting- and the bed-room looked cosy. " We've fallen in a soft place, Bob!" he said. " It's al- most a pity it isn't a permanent one. Open all the windows, there's a good girl," he said to the maid. " I'm very deli- cate, and the doctor says I am to have plenty of air." She gaped with eyes and mouth at the stalwart figure, and smiled as she did as she was bid. Jack resumed his tour of inspection. He learnt from Georgie that any number of " hands " could be got from the estate, and told him to hunt up a couple and have them there next morning. " They won't need to bring a broom, Georgie," he said; " they'll find one here, and he's going to sweep clean." Georgie's mouth yawned like the Persian Gulf, and his eyes nearly dropped out; for he began to suspect that the new foreman was mad; for there wasn't a broom anywhere near Jack got back to the i*rm lodge by supper-time. Martin LOVE, THE TYRANT. 53 Asleep, but Nettie was awake, and after **, aad satisfied his exl -emely healthy hunger, he smoked a pipe, and talked to Mrs. Martin about the farm. " I'm going to go on without worrying Martin," he said. " That will be all right, I suppose?" Mrs. Martin assented thankfully. " He does just what he likes," she said, " Miss Vancourt never interferes or asks any questions." " Singular young lady!" said Jack. " Is that Nettie I hear in there? Would there be any objection to my bidding her good-night?" He went in to the child, who had been lying listening to him, and greeted him with her eager, brilliant eyes. *'* What did you say you name was?" she asked. " I said Bad Penny, because I'd come back to yon, yoa know. But I'm called Jack Gordon." " I like ' Jack, 7 " she said. "It's lucky there are two names to choose from, isn't it?*' he said, with that twinkle in his eyes which children love. She laughed. " And 1 like 'oo. I wish 'oo'd sit here beside me and talk to me all night. Do 'oo know any stories?" " Heaps!" said Jack. " You lie down and close your eyes yon can't hear a story properly unless you do; fact! And I'll tell you one." He dropped his voice after a time, and when she had fallen asleep, kissed her and stole out. Mrs. Martin had been watching him with a mother's gratitude. " You you are a good man," she said, timidly, " I don't wonder the child takes to you!" Jack went off to his cottage with these words in his ears; of course feeling ashamed of himself, as a man always does when a woman tells him he is good. Half-way to the cottage, he stopped and looked round him. He was not a bit sleepy, and he felt a desire to have a look at the Towers by moon- light. He fought with the desire for a moment or two, but it overcame him, and, vaulting the low park fence, he strolled slowly across towards the house. The light shining through the windows struggled with the moonlight streaming upon the old place; it looked weirdly beautiful in the night, and Jack, sauntering on absently, felt a strange wistfulness creeping over him. This grand old place was his! Oh, no, it wasn't! It was Miss Esther Vanconrt's. He was turning away with a sigh, when .he beard the 54 LOVE, THE TYBA1TB. strains of a piano, and then a man's voice singing. He leant against the terrace, in the shadow, and listened. " Fine voice; sings like a fellow at the opera. Wonder who he is?" There was a pause, then he heard the two voices. " That's Miss Vancourt's," he said to himself. " I'm sure of it, though I don't know why. Like it better than th$ other." Presently the wistfulness grew into a melancholy. He felt like an outcast, out there in the night listening to other peo- ple's voices singing hi his house. " I think we'd better go to bed, old man," he said to Bob, who had curled himself up at his master's feet, but was list- ening and watching for the slightest movement. " Don't you bark or make any kind of a row, Bob, for we're tres- passing. Trespassing! Oh, my goodness; if it wasn't so beastly serious it would be amusing!" Ke waited until the duet was finished, then he went off to bed. He fell asleep at once, Bob lying beside the bed; but sud- denly, in the middle of the night, Bob sprang up and whined, for his master had started up and with outstretched handy and eyes that looked upon a vision, cried: " No, no, old man! I'll keep my promise! The little sister's all right. I'll keep my promise; I won't take it away from her, old fellow! Ah, God! he's dead!" The whine of the dog waked him, and he looked round. The sweat was on his brow, and he was shaking as he had shaken that night his chum had fallen at his feet. " All right, Bob!" he said, his voice shaking too. " Only a dream. Lie down; it's all right!" CHAPTER VIL JACK woke in the morning, fresh as paint, notwithstanding his dream. But it had left an impression behind, as some dreams have a knack of doing. If he had at any time wav- ered in his resolution to sacrifice himself for his for his dead chum's sister, the vision of the night had confirmed his dtter- mination. ' No need to haunt me again, old man!" he said. " HI stand by my word!" Early in the morning he visited an outlying part of the farm, and found things in anything bat a satisfactory state; LOVB, THE TYRANT. 55 and having set George and the men to work, he went to the lodge to breakfast. Mrs. Martin was looking ont for him, and welcomed him E3 the timid woman welcomes the strong man upon whom she is beginning to rely, and Nettie hearing his steps, called out a piping: " Is that 'oo, Mr. Jack? Are 'oo coming to say good- morning?" " Not till I've had something to eat," Jack called back, " It wouldn't be safe. I once ate up a little girl just about your size because I happened to come across her when I was nungry and not half as hungry as I am now." " Martin's been worrying," said Mrs. Martha. " He wants to see you." Jack nodded. " There's nothing to worry about; I'll put his mind at rest presently." He ate his breakfast and went up to the now thoroughly sober and remorseful farmer. " I've come to report," he said, seating himself on the bed. " Better lie down. Leg painful, of course? Strange how keenly a leg resent being broken: you may bend it as much as you like, but you mustn't break it. Oh, yes, I've been round the farm. What do I think of it? Well, ahem!" " There's that four acre wants hoeing," commenced Mar- tin, fretfully and apologetically. " It ought to have been done before; bub I've been that short-handed " " I've set George and a couple of scarecrows they call themselves hands, I daresay upon it." " And there's that field on the side of the hill " " Yes, I know. Best bit of land you've got, I should say; but it's surrounded by trees. You can't expect to get a crop " " Yes, yes, you're right!" cut in Martin. " I know that, of course! But what can I do? Sir Richard wouldn't have a tree cut do\vn to save my life, leave alone a crop." *' But Sir Richard has gone where I hope his love of timber Will be gratified," said Jack. " Miss Vancourt is mistress now, and she may not be so fond of 'em." " True," assented Martin; "but I haven't had time to ask her." " It wouldn't take five minutes," remarked Jack. " And I don't like mentioning the subject," said Martin. " Sir Richard, he allus swore at me if I as much as mentioned 56 LOVE, THE TYRAKT. " And you think his niece might do the same? Well, I'm not afraid of a swear word or two, and I'll ask her, if you like." Martin drew a breath of relief. " I wish you would. Tell her I sent you, and she'll treab yon civil, I'm sure." " Just so," said Jack. "I'll go at once. The trees most come down if that field is to be saved. And now, don't you worry. Is there anything I can do for you?" Martin looked rather uncomfortable. " There was a bottle with some very old and special whis- key you remember? I'm thinking that a little drop would do me good " " Sorry," said Jack, calmly. "But I disposed of it all last night." Martin stared at him with a mixture of regret and admira- tion. " Yon must have a good head, mister," he said, ruefully. " So, so," said Jack. " But whiskey's been my favourite drink since a boy: that's what's made me what I am -a fore- man on the Vancourt home farm. No, my dear Martin, you will have to try a new drink while you're nursing that leg. You'll find it strange at first, but you'll get to like it after a bit." " What is it?" asked Martin, doubtfully. " Water!" said Jack, with a grin; and as he left the room he heard Martin sigh heavily. After an interview with Nettie, he and Bob set out for the Towers. The place had looked poetic and picturesque in the moonlight, but in the bright sunlight of the spring morning it looked superb and imposing. Jack eyed it gravely as he approached the terrace, but he did not even sigh; his dream rose to his mind and crushed out any sense of covetousness. He had relinquished his possessions once and for all, and there was an end of it. Palmer, the butler, met him at the door, and when Jack, in his cool, self-possessed way, asked for Miss Vancourt, eyed him curiously and rather doubtfully. " Tell Miss Vanconrt the foreman of the farm would be obliged it she could see him," said Jack. Palmer's look of curiosity increased. He had a large acquaintance with farmers and their men, but none of them had looked like this stalwart young fellow, or been so much Ot their eaM LOVE, THE TTBAST. 57 " If you'll step into the library, FU tell Miss Vancourt, " he said. Jack nodded, and remembering the room, walked straight into it. Palmer was rather surprised, and still more so when the foreman of the home farm went to the window and looked out, " as if the place belonged to him," as Palmer remarked afterwards in the servants' hall. Jack, when he had studied the view and tried to remember some of the points, turned to the room. One of the Van* courts had been a bibliomaniac, and had got together a very fine collection of books, and Jack walked round the cases and read some of the titles of the rare volumes of whose worth he had little idea. Then as he glanced about him, he caught eight of a glove lying on the writing-table. It was a woman's glove: Suede; size, six and a half. He took it up and held it in his brown palm, and gazed at it absently. It was a wee, soft thing, and like the voice of the dream, seemed to plead for its owner. He had barely time to drop it when Palmer entered. " Miss Vancourt is out of the house," he said. " Oh! Where is she? Do you know?" Palmer felt inclined to resent the excessive coolness of this young man in the worn cord suit, and answered, rather stiffly: " Miss Vancourt may be in the garden; on the other hand" " She may not," said Jack, cheerfully. " I'll see if I can find her:" and out he strode, followed by Bob, who had been told to wait on the terrace. As he passed out, one of the maid-servants crossed the hall and looked at him without appearing to do so. " What a handsome young man, Mr. Palmer 1" she said. " Who is he?" " Judging by his coolness, not to say cheek, Mary, I should say he was one of the royal family; but he happens to be the new foreman at the farm," replied Palmer, with dig- nity, as he stalked away to his pantry. Jack strode down the terrace and across the lawn, stopping now and again to look round him; but he eoald see nothing of Miss Vancourt, and, with a shrug of the sliouiclcra, vaulted the park railing, and was taking a short cat for the farm, when Bob uttered a soft growl, and stopped short. " Babbit, old man?" said Jack. "Better let it alone. Miss Vancourt or the keeper mightn't like it." But Bob's growl changed into a soft bark of pleasure as he ran into the trees, and Jaek presently saw that the rabbit, in 58 I*VE, THE TYBA2?T. a white dress and with a sunshade, was sitting at the foot ef big elm with a book in her hand. Bob sprang to her, thrust nis nose against her bosom, and wagged his tail, then, with a sigh which said quite plainly, " How delightful to meet you again like this!" stretched himself at her feet, and, placing one huge paw on her white dress, looked up at his master with a kind of " Here's the pretty girl we saw yesterday, you know!" Jask raised his hat. " I apologise for my dog, Miss Vancourt. He means well; but he's a little too free with people he takes a fancy to. Come here, Bob!" Esther inclined her head, then snuggled her face against Bob's soft and silky one. " Don't call him, please. I think it is very nice of him to remember me." " Oh, Bob never forgets a friend or a benefit," said Jack. " He leaves that to us men." Esther held Bob's long nose in her white hand, and Jack, as he looked at it, remembered the size of the glove. There was a faint colour in her face, and she seemed so engrossed ia the dog as to have forgotten his master's presence. " Sorry to have disturbed you, Miss Vancourt," said Jack, after a pause, " but I've just been up to the house to see you, and they said I might find you about the grounds." " You want to see me?" said Esther, rather coldly. " How is Martin this morning?" " Getting on all right, I think." " I am glad," she said as coldly as before. She had glanced up at him for a moment under half her lids, then she fell to caressing Bob again with an air of indifference to the man's proximity which the youngest girl can manage so cleverly. Jack was slightly nettled by it the man is intended to be nettled and, rather abruptly, he said: " Do you mind my cutting down most of the trees in one of the farm fields, Miss "^ancourt?" Esther looked up quickly, open-eyed now. " Cutting down the trees," she echoed, vaguely. " Why? Why do you want to cut them?" Jack stood bolt upright and stifled a sigh. Explaining the elementary rales of farming to a young girl is a large order for the most patient of men, and Jack Gordon was anything but patient. " You can't grow corn and mangels, any kind of crop, ia and trees as well, in one field," he said. LOVE, THE TYRAOT. 59 Bether stared at him. " Why do yon try, then?" she asked. " Trees are erer se much prettier than mangels. What are mangels, Mr. ?" she hesitated. " Gordon! Jack Gordon," he said, raising his hat slightly She returned the salutation with a bend of her head, then was wild with herself for doing it and flushed. " Mangels are roots: cows eat 'em," said Jack. " Can't you grow them somewhere else?" asked Esther, languidly. " Oh, certainly; but this field happens to be the best OQ the farm. " Then why didn't they grow them before? How old is your dog, Mr. Gordon?" " Coming four," replied Jack, rather curtly. " They have tried, like the idiots they were, but, of course, it wasn't any Use." " Why didn't Sir Richard cut down the trees?" " Because he had a fancy for them: some persons have." " I have," said Esther, haughtily. Jack nodded. " All right: then we'll grow 'em and give up the crops.' 1 He looked at Bob as if he were going, then paused. " Have you any idea how much your home farm costs you, Miss Van- court?" he said, half reluctantly, as if he were obeying a conscientious impulse. Esther stared. !< Not in the least. Why?" m " Oh, because well, I suppose it doesn't matter. I'm sorry to have bothered you, and I'll wish you good-morning." He called Bob, and the dog stretched himself and wagged his tail with a wistful glance at the beautiful lady with the soft lap on which his head was pillowed. " Wait, please," said Esther, with her lady-of-the-manor air. " I wish to understand. Perhaps you know that I have only just come, have only recently become mistress of the Towers; and I I don't know much about anything concern- ing the estate." The colour came into her face, and she for- got her hauteur. " How should I know anything about mangels: they didn't grow them in Islington I mean where I lived before Sir Richard left me all all this." She lifted her sunsnade so that she might look round with a compre- hensive glance. Jack felt uncomfortable. 60 ttJVE, THE TYRANT! *Ive I've beard something about it," he said. - here yon are, yon know, and " " It's time I learnt something now, you mean?" she broke in, as he hesitated. " I suppose that is what every one says and thinks. But people expect too much. Do you know, Mr. Gordon, a few months ago I had as little expectation of being mistress of Vancourt Towers as of being the the Queen of England!" Her eyes were glowing, her lips apart, and she looked at him in a half-absent, half-absorbed fashion. Jack leant against the tree with his hands in his pockets, and she was so engrossed that she did not notice his free-and-easy attitude; indeed, she was vaguely conscious of its grace. " This place, and all Sir Richard's money, ought to have gone to his nephew, Sir John Vancourt. But he died." She sighed and looked straight before her. '* Rather hard on him," said Jack, drily, " but rather fortunate " " For me? Do not say that!" she exclaimed, almost in- dignantly. "You would not, if you knew the whole story. It is a very sad one terribly so. He he was murdered out in Australia just after his uncle's death. On the very night that the letter announcing his succession reached him. " Poor beggar!" said Jack. " But that was no fault of yours, you know." " N-o; I know; but somehow I never think of it without feeling in some way guilty." 1 1 shouldn't think of it," remarked Jack. " I don't when I can help it!" she said, with a naivete which made Jack smile behind his moustache. " And so so as he was dead, I came into the property. Don't you think It is sad dreadfully sad?" "For you?" asked Jack. She looked at him almost angrily, and gave an impatient jerk to the sunshade. " Ah, you don't understand, of course," she said. " I meant for me. Bat there's no use talking about it." " Not the least in the world," he said, cheerfully. " And I'm not to cut down those trees, Miss Vanconrt?" She jerked the sunshade again so that he could see her face. It looked wonderfully lovely and bewitching with its touch of girlish impatience and temper in the grey eyes. " Oh, cut them down, if you like!" she rei" teiy. " / don't care I mean* I don't knowr LOVE, THE TYEANT. 61 " But 1 do," he said, coolly. " The trees ought to go^ Miss Vanconrt; mangels won't grow " " You said that before," she interrupted him, pettish" fagly. " But, there! I suppose you ought to grow mangels; Are you you comfortable? Do you think you will like yois place?"" For the life of her she could not help hesitating before the word " place." The young fellow looked so like a gentle- man lounging against the tree that she found it hard to be- lieve that he was a servant of hers, a sort of farm labourer. " Oh, yes; very comfortable. Mrs. Martin is a good sort, and Nettie and I are chums already. I shall hold out all right till Martin gets better." She looked down at Bob. " And then what will you do?" He shrugged his shoulders. ' ' The future lies on the knees of the gods," he replied, carelessly. " What a strange expression!" she said; her lips parted with a smile that made them very lovable, so lovable, that Jack, upon whom she had not before smiled, gazed at her with the man's too candid stare of admiration; whereat the smile vanished and a slight frown took its place. " It's Egyptian, I believe. Heard it from a chum: dead now, poor chap!" He stopped and winced: for he was speaking of this girl's brother! " A chum? One of whom you were fond? I know by the way you spoke," she said in a low voice. Jack nodded. " Yes," he said, curtly. " I'd reason to be." ;< Why?" she asked. " Did he do you a great service?" " Yes; he saved my live gave his life for me that's all," said Jack. She looked up at him with a sweet gravity and sympathy, and with an interest and curiosity too obvious to be ignored. " It's too long a story," he said, a little huskily r almost roughly. " And too painful," she said, swiftly, with a woman's quick delicacy. " Some day, perhaps, you will tell me." " I think not. You'll have to excuse me," he said, grimly. There was a moment's pause, during which she was trying to recover the attitude and air of dignity with which she had received him; then Jack woke as if from a 62 WVE, THE TYBAUli " PL get those trees felled at once. Good-morning, Mia Vancourt." He raised his hat and called Bob, this time in a tone which demanded instant obedience, and Esther nodded rather coldly. Then she said, as if struck by a sudden thought: " I suppose I ought to see those trees, Mr. Gordon, to see if they ought to be cut down or not?" Jack had some difficulty in repressing a smile; but he man- aged it. " Certainly," he said. " If you were a man, you would naturally." She raised her chin haughtily. " Oh! it doesn't follow that because I am a woman I should be an absolute idiot. Is it far?" " The other side of the farm," he replied. " And if 8 warm walking." She coloured and bit her lip. " Very well, then, I won't come. Yes, I willl" with a portentous sigh. " I suppose it's my duty!" " Then come on," said Jack, abruptly. She stared at him, her face flushing. " I I beg your pardon, Miss Van- court," he stammered. " I mean that I shall be honoured! 1 hope you'll forgive my abruptness: I'm I'm only a work- ing-man, and not used to ladies, you see." " Of course I could see that!" she said, with deadly sweet- ness. " It's of no consequence." CHAPTER VIII. THEY walked on in silence for some moments, Bob, in be- tween them, glancing up at one and the other enquiringly, as if he were asking himself what was the matter, and why these two friends of his couldn't be friends with each other. Presently he pricked up his ears and ran forward with his nose to the ground. " What is it?" asked Esther. " He sees or smells something; Bob has the nose and eye of an Irish terrier: he's had a hard bringing up. Ah, there it is: hare, I expect," said Jack. He followed the dog and picked up a hare that had been caught in a snare. " Oh, poor thing!" exclaimed Esther. " Is it dead?" *' Yes, quite," replied Jack. " Been there some time* That'* ft well-made snare," he added, eyeing it critically. , THE TYSA3ST. 63 "Yon've some skilful poachers on the estate, Miss Van- court." " Poachers?" echoed Esther. She had read about them, and felt quite a romantic thrill. " It was a poacher, then, who caught this?" " Yes," said Jack, rather grimly, as he put the snare in his pocket. " You don't appear to preserve your game very carefully." " Don't I?" said Esther, looking up at him doubtfully. " I don't know anything about it. Oh, yes! I remember Mr. Floss saying that Sir Bichard had neglected the game." " Yes; he went in for collecting curiosities, and that's rather an absorbing amusement." " How did you know he did that?" she asked, with some surprise. Jack shrugged his shoulders. " Oh, I have heard it from somebody or other," he replied, carelessly. " When a man goes in for a hobby like collect- ing, he's sure to neglect his duties. It's the duty of every landowner to look after his game." '' It seem to me that a landowner has a great many du- ties,*' remarked Esther, rather ruefully. " I'm hearing of some fresh ones every day from Mr. Floss, and Miss Worces- ter my aunt and now from you. I should like to do my duty, Mr. Gordon; but it's rather hard, seeing I don't know anything about it." " Very hard: but you'll pick it up in time," said Jack, en- couragingly. " Now, if Sir Richard's nephew, poor Sir John the young man who died, you know I told you " " Yes, I know." " If he had lived and inherited this property, he would have preserved the game, I suppose?" " He certainly would!" asserted Jack, emphatically. " Well, then, / must!" she said, with a sigh, but reso- lutely. " I want to do everything he would have done." " Oh, I hope not! I mean," he corrected himself hastily, " perhaps not everything." "What would you do about the game, Mr. Gordon?" she asked, after a pause. " Engage another gamekeeper," he said, promptly. " Get a fresh start, in fact. I suppose you'll have some company presently, a shooting-party in the autumn, and so on?" " I suppose so " absently. 64 LOVE, THE TYRAOT. " At any rate, your friends and neigho oun.. ^a peoplt round about, will expect to be asked over to shoot." " Will they? You see, I don't know. Only a few weeks ago I was living in a dingy, dusty little street in Islington, teaching music; and what should I know of of all these things, excepting what I've read in books?" " And books are generally all wrong," said Jack, with the practical man's contempt for fiction when it deals with sport. ** And you taught music?" " Yes. Are you fond of it?" " Love it," he said, succinctly. " I heard you singing and playing last night." " Yes? Why, where were you?" she asked, quickly. " Just walking round," said Jack, carelessly. "Making a kind of inspection. There was someone else singing, too." '* Yes; that was Mr. Selby Lay ton, a friend who is staying with us. vHasn't he a splendid voice?" she said, enthusi- astically. " Splendid," assented Jack, absently. Selby Lay ton! Where had he heard the name before? He cudgelled his brains in the usual way, but failed to knock oat the memory. " He is a distant relation of mine," said Esther. " And he has been very kind; he is going to help me in in a little matter What cottage is that? I've not seen it before," she broke off to ask. " That's the foreman's cottage," replied Jack. " And as I'm the foreman for the time being, I may say that it is mine." The door was open, and she went up to it. " Will you walk in?" he asked, civilly; but she just looked in, then drew back. " No, thanks. It looks very comfortable." " It is," said Jack. She sighed. " How funny!" ' Beg pardon?" " I was thinking that a few weeks ago I should have danced with delight if any one had told me that I was going to live in a pretty, picturesque cottage like this," she ex- plained. " I always longed for a cottage in a wood!" " Seems to me that a mansion in a park is better," he re- marked. " Yes, I suppose it is." She sighed again. " Of eourse it is! Jtafr-'* TOVE, THE TYBANT, 65 He stepped in, flung the hare on the tablt* and took a woodman's axe from its nail on the wall. " What are you going to do with that?'* she asked; " you are not going to cut down the trees at onoe, now?" " Oh, no. I'm only going to mark them," he said. " It's not much farther." He swung the axe over his shoulder, and they walked on. The path grew narrow in places, and, having to show the way, he walked in front. She looked at him, now that he could not see her, with a woman's close attention: how straight he was, how broad across the shoulders, and how firmly, yet lightly, he walked! Not for the first time since she had first seen him, she wondered what his history might be; that there was a history she was sure. She was thinking of him so intently, that she started slightly when he stopped and said: " Here we are, the best field on the place, and those trees spoil it com-plete-lv spoil it," he said, pointing to the elms and beeches which surrounded it. " They must all come down, then," she said, rather re- Inctantly. " Couldn't you " pleadingly " save one or two?" " * Woodman, spare that tree!' " he said, with a smile. "Well, we'll see." He took off his coat, pitched it on to a bank, and, taking a survey, cur, a not ch in one of the trunks, skipped the next, and notched its fellow; selecting the worst trees for destruc- tion, and evidently so absorbed in his work as to have quite forgotten her presence. She walked beside him with an in- terest which sm prised her. *' It seems very easy," she said, absently. He looked round, as if recalled to a sense of her presence. " Oh, it's easy enough," he assented, calmly. " I should like to try," she said. " How bright ths axe is!" She held out her hand. " Better not," he said. " It's sharp as well as bright, and ft has a nasty trick of turning round in the hands of an un- accustomed person. ' Esther coloured and raie d her chin. " I'm not afraid. Give it me, please!" she said, haughtily. Jack looked at her for a moment, then, with a scarcely perceptible shrug of the shoulders, he held the axe out to her. " Oh, it's heavier than I thought," she said, as the tocfe 66 LOVE, THE TYRANl. it, then she bit her lip. " I suppose it's "because I'm not used to it." But she was too proud to wait for any instructions, and standing in front of a tree, swung the axe back slowly, fortunately and made a cut at the trunk. The axe swung downwards, as it has a trick of doing when you don't know how to work it, just grazed an inch or two from the bark and fell from her hand. " That wasn't my fault," she said, biting her lip with im- patience. " The thing caught something as I swung it (back." The " something " was Jack's shoulder, where he could feel a dull ache and smarting which told him that he was " touched," as woodmen put it. " A small branch or twig, most likely," he said, quietly, as he put on his coat. " Have you hurt your hand twisted your wrist?" " Oh, no!" she said, lightly. " I shall do it better next time." He picked up the axe and gave it to her, and she made an- other swipe. " It's not nearly so deep as yours, but it's better," she re- marked, looking at the cut with satisfaction. " But how it tires one's arm!" " Didn't hold it tight enough," he said. " If you really want to do it proper! y,for goodness' sake I mean, permit me to show you how, Miss Vancourt." " Well, then," she assented, grudgingly. He took the axe from her and held it in proper form. " See? I grip it tight just here like this. Then I swing it back with the edge this way. Don't get behind me; stand at the side, and I ' The axe described a magniflcent curve, struck the tree, first upwards and then downwards, and the notch shone clear and white in the bark. " I see! Please," she took the axe, and, of course, held it in the wrong place. " No, no! Just here," he said, almost impatiently; and he put his hand on hers and moved it to the right position. His hand, long and brown, but in its way as shapely as hers, covered her soft, white one, and, as it closed round it com- pellingly, the warm firm pressure sent a strange thrill through the girl. She felt the colour rising to her face, and fought in vain to keep it down. " Thanks," she said, curtly; " but I don't think I car* ?ery much about it now." LOVE, THE TYRANTS 67 " Oh, bave another try," he said, resignedly, " now you've begun. Better! Now swing it back like this. Don't be afraid; there's no branch behind you this time. See! That's it!" He guided the axe, still keeping his hand on hers, then, at the downward stroke, left her free. " That's all right, now strike up. No! Better not!" " Why not?" she asked. " Oh, it occurred to me that you would probably miss the tree and cut your own head off," he said. " Nonsense! I should do nothing of the sort!" she re- torted. " Take care, I'm going to try." " I think not," he said, coolly, and he took hold of the axe. She held it firmly and stared at him haughtily; then her face changed, and she let go and drew back with a faint cry. " What's the matter now?" he asked. "Why oh, look! there's something it's yes, it'a blood, on the handle! Oh!" and she shuddered. Jack looked at the handle, and wiped it quickly across his sleeve with an expression of annoyance. " So it is," he said. " I wonder" She shuddered again. " Oh, I know! It must have come from that hare!" Jack's face cleared and he laughed. " Of course," he said. " I hope you haven't got any on your hands?" She held out her white paws and regarded them with shrinking apprehension,, " Yes there is! How horrible!" she said; and holding the stained hand away from her as far as possible, she drew out the small square of web-like cambric which her sex desig- nate a handkerchief. Jack looked at it doubtfully. " Don't use that it's too good," he said. " Take mine. It's a clean one. I bought a couple on the road," he added, as she hesitated. " Oh, thanks," she said. " But I can't take yours. It's not much of a stain though it's horrid! and mine will do." She wiped away the smudge with the dainty iiiindkerchief, with a shudder at" each wipe, then with a final " TJghl" flung the square of cambric from her. As she did so, a step sounded near them, Jack and Bob heard it, and the latter sat up with a low growl; but Esther was too absorbed in her distasteful task to notice. " I was afraid jrn'd managed to eut yourself," said Jack. ; 68 LOVE, THE TTEAST. 'It would only have been what I deserved," sfce " Persons who play with edged tools, yon know " Bob sprang forward between them with an angry growl; a man's voice was heard, in accents of alarm, calling out coax- ingly: " Down, sir! Good dog! There! good dog hi! You, there, call off your beastly dog!" Jack called Bob, and as he obeyed reluctantly and still growling, the graceful figure of Mr. Selby Layton, dressed in, a spick-and-span knickerbocker suit came towards them. For a moment he saw only Jack, and began in a hectoring fash- ion, his face still rather pale: " Why the devil don't you look after your dog, my man! The brute was nearly springing at me " Then he saw Esther, and, colouring, stopped short, look- ing from one to the other with surprise and embarrassment. " I I beg your pardon, Miss Vancourt, I'd no idea you were here! I er have been looking for you." By this time the sweet smile was in its usual working rder, and he turned it on as if there was no one else present. Esther had also coloured for a moment, but she said quite casually: " I have been looking at some trees with " As she paused, the two men regarded each other. Layton with a kind of faint doubt behind his superciliousness, Jack with the steady calm of the strong man looking on the weak one. " This is the foreman of the farm," she said. " Mr. Gordon." For a moment Selby Layton had been puzzled by th.3 face and figure of the man before him, for he thought he knew a gentleman when he saw him, but at " This is the foreman of the farm," his superciliousness returned in full vigour. "Oh!" he said, condescendingly. " Rather a dangerous dog of yours, isn't it?" " No," said Jack, with the slow drawl which had put many a blusterer to confusion; " he ia all right. He's as quiet as a lamb, as a rule, and only goes for doubtful char- acters." Selby Layton's face flushed, and he opened his mouth to retort angrily, but suddenly restrained himself, and with a curl of the lips that turned his smile to a sneer, said: " Sounds as if he takes mt; for one, my friend!" " The best of dogs make a mistake sometimes," said Jack, quietiy. " Though you don't do it often, do you, Bob?" KJVB, THE TYRANT. 69 lie raioed his hat to Esther, and was turning away; then fee paused as if he had suddenly remembered his manners. " Do you want me any longer, Miss Vancourt?" Now, Esther had been standing, looking from one to the other with a certain sense of embarrassment. Selby Layton's tone and manner of addressing the other man had jarred upon her and hurt her; on the other hand, Jack's cool retort had, though it had savoured of insolence coming from a servant and an inferior, extorted the woman's admiration; conse- quently, being afraid lest she should reveal it, she said coldly r with her head well up, and her chin out: " Ho, thanks; you may go, Mr. Gordon." Jack raised his hat again, and strode off. When he was out of sight he took off his coat, for it was his only one, and he didn't want to spoil it: his shoulder was bleeding pretty freely. When he had reached the cottage he took off his shirt and looked at the cut. It was neither deep nor long, and he laughed rather grimly: " Serves me right for standing so close behind a woman fooling with an axe!" After he had washed the wound, he lit a pipe and went off in the direction of the farm; but at the crossing of the paths he paused. He went on again, paused again, and ultimately strode back to the field. Even at the hedge he stopped again; but, as if it were a magnet, the little blood-stained handker- chief drew him. He stood and looked at it for a moment wistfully, and with self-mockery for his weakness. At last he stooped and picked it up, and with a laugh, half of shame the man's shame for sentiment he thrust the dainty, useless thing into his breast- pocket. It was a long day for Jack the new bioom always finda plenty of sweeping to be done and the farm-hands speedily discovered that they had now got a foreman who not only knew what work was, but could take his share in it. Every now and then, as he lifted his arm, the flesh-wound on his shoulder smarted and reminded him of Miss Vancourt's performance with the axe; but there was something else, lying enugly near his heart, which helped to keep her in his memory. Once or twice he had felt inclined to take the handkerchief from its place and throw it away; but it re- mained there, safe enough. After dinner which he ate in a hurry he went out IB search of some men to fell the trees. 70 XOTE, THE TYRAOT* Beyond thw rimall village was a row of those tumble-down cottages which one finds on every estate. To these drift the idle and ne'er-do-well of the labourers, and Jack stopped and looked at them, thinking that it he were master of Vancourt they would come down pretty quickly. While he was looking at them and wondering whether he should find the men he wanted there, a young girl came to one of the open doors, and shading her eyes with her hand, looked down the road as if she were in search of someone. She was a remarkably handsome girl, with a wealth of auburn hair framing a face in which the dark brown eyes were striking features. There was an anxious expression in them at that moment, and as Jack went up to the gate, and, raising his hat, gave her " Good-afternoon," she started and shrank back, and the brown eyes turned to him with a startled gaze. " I beg your pardon," he said, much more gently than he had as yet spoken to Miss Vancourt. " I am trying to find some men to fell some trees. Is there any one here who could manage it, do you know?" She shook her head, her eyes lowering, her manner one of marked reserve and repression. " No; there is no one here who could do it," she replied in a low voice that had a deeper ring in it than in that of most women: the contralto note. " They are nearly all women who live here." " Thank you," said Jack. " Sorry to have troubled you," She made a gesture of acknowledgment, blushing slightly, and Jack went on. As he came to the turn of the road, he met a man shambling along the path. Jack saw that he had been drinking, and stood aside to let him pass. The man was muttering to himself, and took no notice of Jack, who, watching him, saw him stumble up to the girl, who had come down the little garden to meet him. She spoke to him in a low voice of remonstrance and rebuke, and they entered the cottage together. Jack found three men, after a great deal of hunting, and only returned to the farm in time for supper. Then ne lit his pipe and went off to the cottage, intending to go to bed, for he was tired. But he was seized by a fit of restlessness, and the sight of the hare lying on the table where he had thrown it reminded him of the poachers. The man who had Bet the snare would be certain to visit the spot that night, sad it occurred to Jack that it would be rather amusing to LOVE, THE TYRAira. 71 meet the gentleman. At any rate, any occupation was better than sitting there in silent meditation upon Miss Vancourt. He cut a thick stick from one of the sapling oaks, and shutting Bob in the bedroom, went out. The moon was hidden by a mass of cloud, but dark as it was, he experienced no difficulty in finding his way, for a path once trodden by him was never forgotten, and he reached the spot where he had found the hare, stretched himself comfortably amongst the bracken, and waited with the patience of the backwoods- man. He had almost given his man up, when he heard footsteps, and raising his head, saw a figure coming through the dusky avenue of the wood. The man was moving without any attempt at caution or care, and he stopped and struck a match as boldly as if he were strolling in his own grounds. " Not the first time you've been here, my friend," thought Jack. " Yes, certainly Miss Vanconrt ought to sack her head-keeper!" The match went out, and, quite as boldly, the man struck another. As the light flashed full on his face, Jack recog- nised the man as the inebriated individual whom he had passed near the old cottages. The poacher found the spot where he had laid the snare, and went to it, feeling about for his catch, and as he knelt, Jack rose suddenly and kid a hand upon the man's shoulder. With an oath, the poacher turned upon him; but Jack had gripped him by both arms, and held him as if in a vice. " I've got what you want, my man," he said, quietly. " It's at my cottage: we'll go together and get it." " Let me go, or !" growled the struggling man; but Jack held him tightly. " No good: I'm younger than you, and twice as strong. My good chap, I could put you over my shoulder quite easily I could indeed. Better come quietly." The man ceased struggling and seemed to be listening. " You're not a keeper?" he said, sullenly. " Well, I don't know; I'm keeping yon, anyway," said Jack, cheerfully. As he spoke, he felt the man trying to slip his hand into nis side-pocket, and knew that he was trying for a knife. With a quick movement Jack threw him on his back, then caught up the thick stick, and, with his knees on thp man's chest, 0aid: 72 LOVE, THE TYBABT. dad taken of her in the axe business, and how fond he was of his dog! But all the same, she told herself that she did not approve of him; he was far too rough and brusque. Why, he had almost been rude and disrespectful to her, Miss Esther Vancourt of the Towers, if you please, his mistress. She made up her mind that the next time she met him she would snub him and put him in his proper place. But the worst of it was she had snubbed him more man once, and he didn't seem to care; he had even argued with her and opposed her will; he had almost forced the axe from her hand, she remembered. But, being just which is strange in a woman she remem- bered that he had opposed her for her own good; and here is a tip for the too complacent young man of the period women who are worth having like being opposed for their own good. No doubt her thoughts would have dwelt a great deal more Hpon Jack Gordon but for the presence of Mr. Selby Layton. In these liberal days one gives even the devil his due, and to give Selby Layton his, one must admit that he was an ex- tremely pleasant companion. Esther and Miss Worcester had, if the truth must be told, been rather bored before his ar- rival. They had been in mourning for Sir Kichard, and could neither go out nor entertain; and the vast place, with its innumerable rooms and tremendous surroundings, had weighed upon them rather heavily, and the advent of Mr. Selby Layton, a man about town, had come as a pleasant relief. He talked well, and on all sorts of subjects, many of which were new to Esther; he sang and played like an angel, and he showed b_y word and look and gesture his evident desire to win the good graces of the two ladies. He did not confine his attentions to Esther, but directed them to Miss Worcester, with whom he talked Browning and the Palestine Explora- tion, and for whom he held h?" skein of wool. He drove and walked with the ladies, and was always ready to sing and play to them; but being a remarkably astute young man, he was careful not to inflict much of his presence upon them. He went out for long walks alone; and, as be could take a long walk without going outside the estate, he became fairly familiar with it, and the more he saw of it, the more he admired it, and longed for it. At night, when the ladies had gone to bed, he sat over his Whiskey and soda and Sir Richard's choice cigars, and plotted WJVE, THE TYBAOT. 81 and planned, with one sole object in view the possession 01 Esther and the Vancourt estate and money. Now, as they drove or walked, they occasionally came across Jack Gordon. Sometimes he was striding along, some- times he was riding a half-broken colt, riding it with that perfect ease which is only owned by a Mexican or a back= woodsman. He always raised his hat with marked if cold respect, but Esther, struggling with a blush, vouchsafed him only the coldest of bows, and Selby Layton touched his hat as he would to any inferior. He knew nothing of Esther's first meeting with Jack, and never spoke of him. To Mr. Selby Layton, astute as he was, Jack Gordon was just the foreman of the home farm, and, gentlemanly and handsome as he was, of no account. But, charming companion as Selby Layton knew himself to be, the time sometimes hung heavily on Esther's hands. If the truth must be told, she actually missed in this life of luxury and ease the past daily drudgery of music-teaching. One day, while looking listlessly through one of her many wardrobes, she came upon a riding-habit. She had ordered it because her tailor had told her that she would need it, though she had never been on a horse in her life. As she looked at it, she was struck by the idea that the mistress of Vancourt Towers ought to be able to ride, ought very pos- sibly to be able to hunt, and she got out the habit and put it on. There is no costume, which even Worth himself can invent, 11 which a young and graceful girl looks to better advantage j'iian in a riding-habit. It defines every curve of the figure; its severe lines and colour set off a girl's beauty, if she has any, and Esther was very beautiful. She looked at herself approvingly for a minute or two, then she got back into her morning frock and went down-stairs. Mr. Selby Layton was smoking a cigarette on the terrace, and discussing the last library book which Miss Worcester was reading. Esther went up to them and looked round wistfully. " What a lovely morning for a drive or a ride, Mr. Lay- ton! Do you ride?" Someone had said, and with a certain amount of tratb., that there are two things which an Englishman will always declare he can do shoot and ride. Selby Layton had only been on a horse two or three times in his life, but he replied, unhesi- tatingly: " On, yes', delightful exercise riding, isn' 82 L07E, TgR TTBAOT Esther laughed. " I don't know; I've never been on a horse in my life; but I should like to try, and we'll go for a ride, if you're sure you won't be bored by a beginner." " That would be impossible!" said Selby Layton, with his sweet smile. " My dear Esther, pray be careful," implored Miss "Worces- ter, nervously. " It is so easy to meet with an accident, and I am sure that there is not a horse in the stable fit for you to ride. I looked in the other day and they all seemed quite wild ; and I saw Giles riding one yesterday, and it was pran- cing about like like anything." Selby Layton smiled a sickly smile; but Esther, who had inherited the Vancourt pluck as well as the Towers, laughed " Oh, I daresay Giles will be able to find me something very old and very safe, and I may not hurt myself very much if I do come off. How soon will you be ready, Mr. Layton?" " In five minutes," he replied, with a little bow. " Oh, I shall be half an hour, at least," said Esther. She ran upstairs, calling Marie, and in three quarters of an hour they had got the habit on. She found Mr. Laytcn in knickerbockers, which was his nearest approach to a riding- suit, and they went down to the stable; ne in inward trepida- tion, Esther with that light-heartedness which is born of ignorance. They found Giles superintending the grooming of a horse by one of the under-hands. " Giles, we are going for a ride," said Esther. " I want quite a safe and sober horse; but you must give Mr. Layton a good one." Selby Layton's heart misgave him, but he smacked his leg with the whip he had taken from the hall and tried to look at his ease. Giles touched his forehead and looked doubtful for a moment, then he led the way to the stables. " 'Ere's a mare as would suit you, miss," he said. " She's old, but she's steady and sure-footed, and she's been used to carrying a lady. There's no difficulty in fitting you, sir; I'll saddle the chestnut you saw me on yesterday." Selby Layton's heart grew heavier, for when he had seen Giles yesterday, the chestnut was prancing and rearing in an alarming fashion. Esther went up to the old mare and patted her and rubbed her nose. " You must be very good with me," she said confiden- tially; "because I don't know anything about riding or I0VE, THE TYRANT. 83 horses, and if you aren't very careful, my dear, I shall come off." " There's no fear, miss," said Giles. " Old Polly will carry you right enough, if you don't press too hard on hr mouth. Give her her head and she'll carry you like an arm- chair." The horses were saddled with the alacrity with which all the servants of the Towers waited upon their mistress, and Giles stood aside waiting for Mr. Selby Layton to put Esther in her saddle. It is a very simple performance if you know all about it: Selby Layton didn't. He made two or three bungling attempts, and then Giles, who had been watching him rather curiously, came forward, showed Esther how to put her foot on his knee and her hand on his shoulder, and tipped her easily into the saddle. " You hold your reins this way, miss," he said. " Hold 'em loosely, and don't fret the old mare." Then he went to Selby Layton who, after many vain at- tempts, had got into his saddle, and, still eyeing him curi- ously, said: " Keep your horse well in hand, sir; but don't let Miss Vancourt press the mare." Selby Layton smiled in a would-be superior fashion and the chestnut sidled out of the stable court-yard, followed demure- ly by the mare. Giles looked after them critically and rather doubtfully. " Gentleman don't look much of a 'orseman, Mr. Giles,** remarked his second in command. " Rides like a d d tailor," responded Giles, contemptu- ously. " Shouldn't wonder if he comes off. But Miss Van- court's all right, if she don't curb the mare. PVaps I'd better gone with 'em. It's too late now, though." The chestnut was young and though free from vice, full of frolic. A good rider would have enjoyed his gamesome- ness and would have allowed him to dance around and get rid of his superfluous spirits; but every erratic move- ment of the horse filled Selby Layton with fear up to his back teeth, and he tried to check him, which only fretted the chestnut and told it plainly that he had an inexperienced horseman on his back. Polly plodded on steadily and me- thodically, and Esther, with heightened colour and dancing eyes, which at another time would have aroused Selby Lay- ton's artistic admiration, exclaimed: " How jolly it is, isn't it? I'd no idea riding was so de- 84 LOVE, THE TYRANT. lightfoL 1 toxiafl go in for it; I shall ride every day. Bo*- * wish I could ride Eke you!" " Y-e-s," jerked out Selby Layton, with an affectation of ease, but with a sinking at his heart. " It's a delightful ex ercise, and you'll soon get into it." As he spoke, the chestnut gave a little bound, and he nearly came off. He tugged at the curb, and the horse rose, amazed by such treatment. " Your horse seems very fresh," remarked Esther, inno- cently. " Y-e-s; but he'll be all right directly," stammered Selby Layton. " I I haven't ridden for some time. Whoa! Steady; whoa!" In happy ignorance of her companion's incapacity, Esther rode on gaily, the mare going steadily, the chestnut prancing and fidgetting at the ill-managed curb. They went down the avenue, the pride of so many Vancourts, and got on to the road. Esther rode badly, of course; but the mare's paces were easy, and presently she began to get into the rise and fall of the trot; and while Selby Layton jogged and shook beside her, she, on a quieter horse, went pretty comfortably. At the end of the road they came upon the open common over which she was lady of the manor, and the mare naturally went for the grass in preference to the hard road. On the hard gravel the chestnut had been fidgetty enough, but, when it felt the springy turf beneath its feet, it became more restless and impatient. Esther looked at it. " I think your horse wants to go, Mr. Layton," she said. " Shall we try a canter or a gallop, or whatever they call it? 'I think I can stick on; and if I can't, it won't matter on this grass," " Pray be careful my dear Miss yancourt," he im- plored, jerkily, the sweat gathering on his face; but Esther touched her mare with the whip, and Polly broke into a canter a gentle cantor which Esther found delightfully easy. " It is delicious!" she exclaimed. " I don't wonder peo- ple are fond of riding! Are you enjoying it, Mr. Layton?" Mr. Layton was anything but enjoying, but he murmured " yes "and smiled a sickly smile, and tried all he knew to keep the chestnut from breaking into a gallop. It would have been easy enough to do, if he had known anything about it; but the more Selby Layton pulled at the curb, the more the chestnut chafed and fought for its head, and presently it got away and bounded in front. Polly, obejing its instinctive desire to keep alongside ita LOVE, THE TTBAUT. 85 stable companion, also took to a gallop. Esther, half amused, half alarmed, tried to pall it up, and, of course, dis- obeyed Giles's injunction and put the curb on too tightly. Polly looked surprised for a moment, then shook her head impatiently and increased the pace; Esther pulled a little harder, and the mare, who, though she was old was well-bred, got puzzled and argry, and quickened her stride. The chestnut heard her behind and tore along at a racing pace, with Mr. Selby Layton hanging on with white face and trembling limbs. Esther felt as if she were going to fall, but her courage did not fail her. The swift pace, the flying land- scape, the beat of the mare's hoofs upon the springy turf, pro- duced a sense of exhilaration; and though there was a good deal of doubt in her mind, there was absolutely no fear. At the end of the common, the chestnut, which had about enough of it, decided that it would go home, and turned swiftly and sharply in the direction of its beloved stable; its rider being no more able to check it than a fly. Polly sverved too, and Esther nearly came off; but she gripped the pommel and held on somehow or other, and to her credit be it said, laughed at her helplessness. As they went up a hill, the horses, which were by no means bolting, though they were going fast, slackened a bit, and a good rider could have got the chestnut in hand easily enough; but Mr. Selby Layton was in a mortal funk, and the chestnut knew it and of course took advantage of it. When they got to the top of the hill, the horse rushed forward again, with his stable in his mind, and the mare followed. It is not easy for a beginner though he or she always has the luck, whether it be at cards, billiards or riding to go at full pace down a hill, and Esther found herself swaying in a dangerous fashion. She had got half-way down when she saw a horseman cantering across the fields on her left. Even at that moment, she recognised him; it was Jack Gordon riding the unbroken colt; and even s.t that moment, she noticed and admired enviously the ease and grace with which he rode. He pulled up as he saw them, then suddenly he seemed to recognise her danger, for he touched the colt with his heel and bounded forward, and Esther saw him coming towards her like an arrow from a bow. He rode at a slant, with the evident intention of heading her; but Esther felt sure he could not reach her, for there was a fairly high hedge be- tween the field and the road. Jack was quite as aware of the hedge as she was, and he was not at all sure that the colt, which was only half-bred, 86 LOVE, THE TYUAJTT. would ftoe it; but he held the young thing well in hand, and as they approached the obstacle he drove the spurs in and lifted the colt with a word of encouragement. It hesitated for a moment, then it rose, cleared the hedge like a bird, and landed Jack within a few paces of the m'are. Long ago he had seen that Esther could not ride, and he called out in a voice of command: " Sit tight, and don't be afraid!" Then he put the colt to its utmost, overtook the mare, and rode beside it for a moment or two before he slid his hand along the mare's bridle and gradually, with perfect ease, brought it to a standstill. Esther jogged and jumped in her saddle, then she looked at Jack, at the man who had rescued her, and laughed with a mingled sense of relief and annoyance. Her hat was on one side, her wonderful hair had half escaped from its coil, her face was flushed, her lips parted: she looked lovely and be- witching enough to stir the pulses of any man; but Jack was not thinking of her beauty but of her audacity and the risk from which he had saved her. " That's not the pace to come down a hill," he said, almost roughly. " On an old horse, too. If she'd stumbled, where woufd you have been?" At another time, Esther would certainly have resented his Freeeh and the tone in which it was uttered; but she was too fnrried now for resentment. 4 * On my head, I suppose," she said, with a laugh that c \wered in spite of herself. " It's the first time I've been on horseback " " So I should say," Jack broke in. " But why on earth didn't you go with a man who knew the ropes?" " Oh, I was with Mr. Selby Layton, who knows how to ride," she said. Jack looked after the disappearing chestnut, whose rider was clinging on to its mane like grim death, and smiled grimly. " Oh! does he? It looks like it!" Esther glanced after the vanishing horseman anxiously. " Oh, can't he? Do you think he'll come to any harm?" " No," said Jack, curtly. " His horse is slackening off. He'll take him to the stables safe enough. What on earth possessed you, who can't ride, to go out alone with him?" " I didn't know," said Esther, almost meekly. " Need you hold my bridle?" The mare was fidgetting to rejoin her companion. LOT*, THE TYRANT. 87 "Yes," laid Jack. "She may bolt, or she mayr't; so I won't chance it. Loosen your reins; you're fretting her. Miss Vancourt, you have been very foolish. You might have had a serious accident. If you wanted to ride, and didn't know anything about i<, why didn't you take lessons?" "Whom could I take lessons of?" asked Esther. "I didn't know there was any danger." "I'll teach you," said Jack, thoughtlessly. "Oh, but wouldn't it be a great deal of trouble?" asked Esther, with a mock humility which was lost upon Jack, who was only a mere man. "I daresay," he said; "but I don't mind. Anything's better than that you should risk your neck in this absurd fashion." They had ridden on, and by this time they had reached the home farm. "If you have done scolding me, Mr. Gordon," said Esther, with dangerous sweetness, "I'll ride home." "All right," said Jack, "I'll go with you." She said nothing to this; but as they reached the lodge, Mrs. Martin came out with Nettie in her arms; and at sight of Jack the child set up a cry of welcome. "Here I am, Jack, quite ready," she said. "Can't take you now," said Jack. "Promised to carry her out for a little while," he explained to Esther. She pulled up at once. "You sha'n't break your word. I can ride home, all right." "No," said Jack. "It's not far; you can walk. I won't trust you out of my sight." She tried to look at him haughtily ; but somehow or other the look broke down. "Very well, I'll walk," she said Jack gave the two horses into Georgie's care, and took Nettie in his arms, and he and Esther walked side by side towards the Towers. They were very silent, but Nettie did all the talking that was necessary. "I thought oo'd never come, Jack," she said, "and I was nearly kying; but mother said you was sure to come, 'cos she's never known you break your word. How nicely you carry me ! Isn't he strong, Miss Vancourt, and isn't he nice ? I love Jack; don't you, Miss Vancourt?" The blood suff used Esther's face, but Jack did not seem at all embarrassed. 88 "MOVE, THE TYRANT. " Little girls should never ask personal questions, Hettie. my child!" he said. " No?" said Nettie. " I'm sorry, but I like you, Jack, and so ought she, 'cos you're good and kind." Jack said nothing to this but hoisted her into a more com- fortable position. They entered the wood, Esther with rathei a downcast face, for the child's remark had embarrassed her, " Isn't she heavy?" she asked. " Let me carry her!" " She's like a feather," said Jack. " You're all right, Nettie, eh?" " Quite comfy," said Nettie. " If oo'll bend your head, Jack, I'll give you a tiss." Jack bent his head and she kissed him. " Wouldn't you like to tiss him too, Miss Vancourt?" said Nettie. " Mother says he saved your life; she saw him catch your horse on the hill." Esther's face flamed. Jack put his hand over the child's mouth. " Shut up, Nettie," he said, quite calmly. " You are talking nonsense." Eat though he was calm, Esther was trembling, and she glanced at him under her long lashes. Jack did not see thu glance; but it was seen and noted by Kate Transom, who, sheltered by a tree, was looking at them. She had been gathering sticks, a bundle of which she held in her hand, and she had drawn out of sight and watched them. She caught the glance, which passed unnoticed by Jack, and it was like a dart piercing her bosom. She shrank behind the tree; her face paled suddenly, and her hand, which held her shawl gripped at her heart as well. CHAPTER XI. Now, while Esther was walking through the wood with Jack and Nettie of the embarrassing remarks, the chestnut had raced homewards with about as much regard to the un- fortunate man on his back as if he were a fly. Mr. Selby Layton clung on to the mane like grim death, but, all the same, was nearly flung over the horse's head as it tore into the stable-yard and stopped suddenly at the door of its own stall. Giles and some of stable-helps rushed to Mr. Selby Lay- ton's assistance, and he got down and stood surveying the hateful animal with mingled fear and rage. He was bathed in peispiratio.n which trickled in a muddy channel down his WYE, THE TYBA1TP. bafc face; his wd&r had come undone, his neck-scarf was all awry, and he was trembling with fright and exhaustion; in- deed, he was such a pitiable-looking object that even Giles, full of contempt as he was, could scarcely refrain from com- passionating him. " That horse is a vicious animal, and extremely dangerous," said Mr. Lay ton, when he could speak. " He bolted with me, and would have broken my neck if I hadn't been able to hold on." Giles was too well-trained a servant to show his contempt. "Very sorry, sir; never know Mm to bolt before; he is rather free, but he only wants a little managing. Where's Miss Van court, sir? I hope she's safe." Selby Layton had been too much occupied in thinking of his own safety to bestow a thought upon Esther; and he looked round, as if he expected to see her immediately be- hind him. " Oh, yes," he stammered, " she was just behind me. Her horse was quite quiet." " Miss Vancourt is just coming through the wood, sir," said one of the stablemen. " She is walking." Selby Layton would have given a great deal to have been able to avoid Esther's eye, or any eye, in his present condi- tion; but that was not possible; so he went to meet her, but- toning his collar, setting his tie straight, and trying to mop himself into a semblance of coolness. He was still full of inward rage and self-reproach. He had been an awful fool to venture upon a horse when he knew so little about riding; the whole business was most unfortunate; for Selby Layton was too clever not to know that nothing is more disastrous for a man than to appear ridiculous in the eyes of a woman. Why hadn't he been content to confine himself to his singing and playing and other " parlour tricks," and left the noble art of horsemanship to commoner men? As he crossed the lawn he saw that Esther was not alone, and the fact that her companion was that " impudent fel- low " from the farm, as Selby Layton called him, did not tend to make him more cheerful; bnt he smoothed the nasty twist from his lips and assumed an expression of tender anxiety as he drew near. Esther did not see him for a moment, for she was talking and laughing with Nettie, and seemed quite absorbed in the child; and she looked up as Selby Layton appeared, as if she had quite for* w they had parted. 90 ^ I0VE, THE TYSAUT. " I do hope you are not hurt!'* he exclaimed, anxionsly. *' Oh, not rn the least," replied Esther. " Were y hurt?"' " Oh, no," said Selby Layton, with a beautiful air of con- fidence. " My horse bolted; but, though I had him in hand all the time, I thought it better to ride home, in case he should startle your mare. I hope he did not?" " I don't know," said Esther. " She was going very fast, and I lost all control over her, and I suppose I should have come off; but Mr. Gordon happened to oe riding near, and he caught her and took charge of me." This was gall and wormwood to Selby Layton; but he smiled sweetly and nodded quite pleasantly to Jack. " That was very fortunate," he remarked; "though the mare is so quiet that I don't suppose anything would have happened." Jack stood, with that impassive countenance which he could assume when it suited him, and did not contradict Mr. Layton. " I think we'll go back now, Nettie," he said; but Nettie met the suggestion with a distinct negative. " I don't want to go back," she said. " I want to see the peacocks on the tewace the pretty lady's been telling us about." Esther blushed slightly at this candid tribute to her per- sonal appearance, and, with a laugh, said: " Better bring her on to the terrace, Mr. Gordon; she won't be happy it you don't." " I'm afraid not," said Jack, severely. " Nettie's getting spoilt. But you wait, young lady, till you're quite clear of the measles, you'll find you won't have your own way quite so much!" Nettie laughed incredulously, and hugged his neck a little tighter. " I ain't afwaid," she said. They walked across the lawn to the terrace, and Nettie gave a little cry of delight as she saw the peacocks basking in the sun. " Put her down on one of the seats, Mr. Gordon," saic 1 Esther; " you must be tired with carrying her so far." '* I am worn out," said Jack, with a mock groan. '* What a story!" exclaimed Nettie, indignantly. " He tarries me ever so much fairer than this every evening; don't YOU, Jack?" VOTE, T3E TYRAIfc 91 The " Jack * scunded strangely to Esther, but very pleas- antly, as it was uttered by the child's sweet and loving voice *' Now you can see the peacocks and the flowers," she said; " and I wonder whether you'd like a glass of milk and some cake? I suppose she may have it?" to Jack. " Oh, yes," he said, cheerfully; " she is eating all day, like a little pig." At this moment, Palmer came from the house in his stately fashion, and presented a letter to Selby Layton, who was look- ing at the child with a sweet smile that masked his disgust and annoyance at the whole business. He took the letter, and with a murmnred request for per- mission, opened it. For a moment, as he read it, the smile fled from his face, which grew pale, notwithstanding his heat. " It's of no consequence," he said, casually; " but perhaps I'd better answer it by this post. I shall just have time." " Do, by all means," said Esther. " Will you please send out some milk and cake, Palmer?" When Selby Layton had gone into the house, she seated herself by Nettie, drawing the child towards her and carefully wrapping the shawl round her. Jack stood by them for a moment, then he began to feel himself in the way. " I want a word with Giles, Miss Vanconrt," he said. " I'll go down to the stables, and come back for Nettie presently." " Very well," said Esther, with a laugh. " I think you'd make a very good nurse, Mr. Gordon." Jack thought of the many weeks he had nursed his chum, this girl's brother, and smiled rather gravely, but said noth- ing. He went down to the stable and found Giles and his satellites gathered round the chestnut. Giles had been ex- pressing himself with a freedom which he had not permitted nimself in Mr. Lav ton's presence. ;- What's the matter with the chestnut, Giles?" asked Jack. Giles touched his cap, as he always did instinctively when he met Jack, and swore under his breath. " There ain't anythink the matter with him; but there Boon will be if he's "allowed to have his way like this," he said. " Any horse would be spoilt as was allowed to rampage round the country as he pleases. Next time he goes out he'll want to do the same thing. It's a wonder the gentleman didn't break his neck. It ain't for me to make remarks about my betters, but I do call it cheek for a gent to get on a horse when he can't ride no more than a new-born baby; and I wasn't much, better than a blessed infant to let him go; for I 92 I0VE, THE TTBAUT/ saw bow it wad when he got up. And where's thw mare, I should like to know?" " The mare's a f , the farm all right; you'd batter send down for her," said Jack. '* Put the saddle on the chestnut again, will you?" Giles obeyed at once, though it was scarcely the plfuce for the foreman of the home farm to give orders to Miss Van- court's servants. But the saddle was put on and the stirrups adjusted to Jack's long legs, and he got on the chestnut. The horse had had a rare good time with its late rider, and it was under the impression that it might have another witji the present one; but it discovered its mistake in less than a'min- nte and a half. He reared and jumped in a fashion which would have sent Mr. Selby Layton flying, but only caused Jack's knees to press inwards with a force which nearly drove the breath out of the astonished chestnut. Jack took him out of the stable- yard and into the park, let him go quietly for awhile, then put him to his top speed, and kept him at it long after the chestnut had had enough. " You ought to be able to jump, my friend," he said; "let's see." He put the horse at the iron railing, and though the animal refused twice, Jack got him over the third time; and he jumped him backwards and forwards until the astonished chestnut was heartily sick and disgusted; then Jack rode him back at a sweet and sober trot. Giles and his merry men had watched the performance with feelings of profound satisfaction and admiration. " That's what I call riding," said Giles. " Never saw a better seat. And he rides like a gentleman, too. I know the difference, mind you! Some of you chaps can stick on right enough, but you've none of you got that style. Wherever he learnt riding it was a jolly good school, and he was a jolly good scholar. Not a bad horse, Mr. Gordon?" he said, as Jack rode up. " He'd suit you down to the ground." Jack nodded and suppressed a sigh; and it flashed across his mind, with a strange sense of unreality, that net cnly the chestnut but every horse in the stable belonged to him. " He's quiet enough, and won't give you any trouble now," he said. " I should give him a basin of gruel to-night after this bucketing." " I will, sir," said Giles. And, instinctively again, he touched his cap. A couple of footmea brought out the milk and cake tar I0VE, THE TYRANT. 93 Nettie. It would not have been a very hard task for on:; tout everything was done in a stately fashion at the Towers; and Esther had at first been somewhat bothered and worried by the number of servants which surrounded her, and their devoted though silent attention; but she was getting used to it by this time, and it did not now surprise her or make her uncomfortable when two men in the rich but chaste Vancourt livery appeared when one would have been sufficient. They brought the cake and milk on heavy salvers of solid silver, and placed them on a rustic table which they dragged for- ward for the purpose, then retired with the impassive counte- nance which they would have worn if Miss Vancourt had or- dered them to dance a jig. Esther held the glass and broke up the cake, and as Nettie ate and drank, she talked as children will. " Jack's a very tind man," she remarked. " Very, I should say," assented Esther. " But ought you to call him ' Jack/ Nettie? His name is Gordon." " Yes, I know," said Nettie; " but he told me to call him Jack, and I like it better than Mister Gordon. Mother said I wasn't to call him ' Jack/ beeps, though he's dadda's fore- man, he's a gentleman. What is a gentleman?" Ac this question, which has puzzled the world ever since the word was invented, Esther was rather " flummuxed," as Jack himself would have said: for who shall say what a gen- tleman is? But she knew that she would have to answer the question, and she did her level best. "A gentleman, Nettie," she said, "is one who is very brave and very true and very gentle; who will never do any- thing he is ashamed of." Nettie thought this over for a minute or two as she munched her cake. " Then I'm sure Jack's a gentleman," she said, " because he's very brave. He stopped father's horse, and father said he might have been tilled; then he 'urt himself with a axe, that day he went with you to see the trees; his shirt was all over blood " Esther started, and the colour rushed to her face. In an inspirit she remembered how her axe had met something in its backward stroke: she had thought it was the branch of a tree: had she struck him? She said nothing, and Nettie went on: " And one day I saw a handkerchief sticking out of his mustwafr ft tiav ickla handkerchief} and that was all over 94 KWE, TFE TYRAUT. blood; so he most have 'urt hisself again, and said nothing about it." The colour deepened on Esther's face. She remembered that she had thrown her blood-stained handkerchief away. Was it possible that Mr. Jack Gordon had gone back and picked it up and was carrying it about him? For a moment the thought was strangely sweet to her; then she remem- bered the difference between them between the man who was the foreman of her home farm, and had been little better than a tramp, and herself, the mistress of Vancourt. She tried to feel proud and full of resentment at his strange con- duct; but, somehow or other, there was a warm feeling at her heart, which puzzled and worried her. " Then he is very gentle," said Nettie. " He tarries me for ever so long, and it's as cumfy as if I was in bed more cumfy; and when he speaks to me his voice is soft, like mother's when she talks to the chickens. And what was the other? He t'inks of others? Well, so does Jack. The other day Georgie that father's man 'urt 'is 'and, and Jack went and did 'is work for 'im. And Jack won't tell a lie. I 'eard 'im tell father that all the things about the farm were old-fashioned and no use, and that if he was father he'd ask Miss Vancourt that's you to buy a lot of new things; and father said that Sir Richard wouldn't have new things, and that he that's father had always said they was all right. And Jack said that if he was the farmer he wouldn't tell a darned lie like that." " You shouldn't say ' darned,' Nettie, dear," said Esther. "Is it a wicked word?" asked Nettie, open-eyed. "I don't t'ink it can be, 'cos I astinctly heard Jack say it. But don't you t'ink Jack's a gentleman, Miss Vancourt?" " Yes, I think he is," said Esther, in a low tone of voice. At this moment Miss Worcester came out from a room in the west wing. " My dear Esther, have you been riding?" she exclaimed. " And who is that jumping the park railings? The horse seems dreadfully wild, and I shouldn't be surprised if there was an accident. Who is this little girl?" " Nettie Martin," replied Esther. She got up and went to the end of the terrace from whence Miss Worcester had come, and from that point saw Jack, deeming himself quite unseen, riding the chestnut. She leant against the balustrade and watched him. Quite ignorant of any observant eye, Jack was taking the chestnut over the railings again and again, and, B he rode like a Mexican or an Amtndian LOVE, THE TYBANT. ' 95 Better riders the sight was a pretty one, to say the least of it, and Esther looked on with a sense of admiration. Horse and rider seemed one, and the man was the epitome of grace as he sat the fiery horse. The child's words, innocently spoken, recurred to her. According to her own formula, the man was a gentleman. But he was only her foreman of the borne farm, an he had no right to conceal the fact that she had struck him with the axe, no right to carry her blood- stained handkerchief about. She summoned all her pride to her aid. The man must be checked, snubbed. She went back to Nettie and Miss Worcester, who had already struck up a friendship, for Miss Worcester, with all her dignity and sense of position, had taken to the candid and confiding mite. " It is Mr. Gordon," said Esther. " Dear me!" said Miss Worcester, disapprovingly, " I thought it was a gentleman some visitor." They sat with the child between them, and presently Jack came back, looking quite cool, as if he had only been strolling about the stable-yam. He raised his hat to Miss Worcester. " I'll take Nettie now, Miss Vancourt," he said. Esther inclined her head coldly, and drew the shawl about Nettie, and Jack picked her up in his arms. As he did so, she was attracted by the pictures in the hall wkich she could see through the open door. " What pretty pickshers!" she said. " I want to see them!" " Not now; another time!" said Jack. " I must get back; I'm late already." His tone surprised Miss Worcester and stirred Esther's pride. " Of course you shall see them, Nettie," she said. " Bring her into the hall, please, Mr. Gordon." With an imperceptible shrug of his shoulders, Jack fol- lowed the ladies into the hall, and Nettie gazed round her with a mixture of childish awe and delight. " What a booful place!" she exclaimed. " I didn't think there was so many pickshers in the whole world. And look at those funny men in iron!" She meant the figures in armour. " And what a lot of books! What's that big thing up there with the pipes?" " That's an organ, Nettie," said Esther. " Come and see \hese still funnier little men in this cabinet." She opened the door and took out some carved Indian figures and showed them to her; bat Nettie found the pict> 96 IXJVE, THE TYRANT. nres more attractive, and ordered Jack to take her nearer to them. " Who is that big man with the great boots and a sword?" she asked. Esther had turned aside to speak to a servant; and it was Jack who, ransacking his memory, supplied the information. " That's Sir Randolph Vancourt," he said. " He fought, with that sword, for the king, and lost his life doing it. That pretty lady next him was his wife. I think her name was Isabel. While her husband was at the wars she stayed at home, here at the Towers, and did a little fighting on her own account. The moat was full of water then, and she shut the doors and kept the people, who were fighting against the king, outside. She wore tnt/. helmet and breastplate you see up there. That gentleman in the wig was 1 forget his name but he fought for King George: with his tongue. They called him the Eloquent Vancourt, which means that he could jaw the hind leg off a donkey; and that little boy with the coat ever so much too long for him was his son. He was famous, too; he wrote a lot of books; they are all in the library, and nobody reads them now." " How clever you are, what a lot you know, Jack!" re- marked Nettie, admiringly. Jack's river of information dried up suddenly, and he glanced over his shoulder apprehensively. Esther was stand- ing staring at him with surprise and curiosity; but he only lost his head for a moment. " Oh, you'll be able to read all about it, when yor.'re older, in the ' Guide to Vancourt Towers,' price sixpence." " You appear to have read it, Mr. Gordon," said Esther. " Yes; it's very interesting," said Jack, unblushingly: he had never set eyes on it. " There are a great many more pictures upstairs in the corridor," said Esther. " You must come and see them all, Nettie. I'll drive Toby over for you some day, and very soon. Would you like to take a piece of cake home with you?" Nettie held out her hand; but it was impossible for her t hold the cake and keep her shawl closed. " I'll put it in my pocket," said Jack, and he did so, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. " Thank Miss Vancourt, Nettie for her great kindness." " T'ank you, Miss Vancourt, for your gate tindness," said the child. LOVE, THE TYBAUT. 97 Esther cain- forward and kissed her, and in doing so tha soft tendrils of her dark hair almost touched .Jack's cheek. The blood flamed in his face for a moment, a znorasnt only; bat he kept his eyes steadily in front of him, and. his T'oice was quite calm as he said, " Good-morning^ Ladies," and strode out. " A very singular young man," remarked Miss Wcroesisr. " A little too brusque and self-confident to please me. He doesn't appear to quite er realise his position; bii there must be a great deal of good in him, or that sweet litfcls thing wouldn't be so fond of him." Esther laughed as she looked after the pair rather absently. " I believe that idea is an utter fallacy, aunt. Dogs and children often take to the most worthless of human beings; look at Bill Sykes's dog, for instance!" " Ob, I shouldn't say Mr. Gordon was at all like Bill Sykes," said Miss Worcester, who always took things literally. " Where is Mr. Selby Lay ton? The bell rang some time ago." Afc that moment Mr. Selby Layton was in his room chang- ing; but he was performing the operation in a very preoccu- pied fashion and every now and then he glanced distastefully, and with a moody brow, at the crumpled letter which Palmer had brought him on the terrace, and which now lay open on the dressing-table. It was a very short one, and ran thus: " DEAR SIR, There are no letters to-day; but last evening a gentleman, if I may call him so, called and asked for you. He was very much put out when he heard that you weren't in London, and asked for your address; but I did not give it fco him because he \vas intoxicated, leastways screwed, and did not seem a gentleman. He swore at me dread Cul. He would not leave his name, but said he would call in a couple of days' time, and I was to write to you. He was a tall man, very dark, with a black moustache and an insolent way. He asksd me for a drink, but I said it was locked up. " Your obedient servant, " WILLIAM LEVEIT." As his eyes rested on the note, which came from his rooms in Claremont Street and was written by his valet, Selby Lay- ton's face grew darker and the twist of his lip positively ugly; and when, having dressed, he tore the note into fragments, he muttered " Curse him!" with a vindictiveness which few of his numerous friends would have deemed Mr. Selby Layton capable o 98 LOVE, THE TYBAUT, His smile was as sweet as ever as he went down to the ladies, oat it was more than a little sad. " I am sorry to say that I shall have to go up to town to- morrow," he said. " But, indeed, I have made a very long stay, and I am sure you will be glad to get rid of me." Esther was not heart-broken at the prospect of his depart ore, but she expressed her regret very prettily. " We shall be dreadfully dull after you have gone!" she eaid. " We shall miss the music so much. I hope it is nt unpleasant business which has called you away." ** Oh, no," said Mr. Selby Layton. " It is only a small matter, but it needs my personal attention, and I am partly consoled for leaving the Towers by the thought that 1 mav begin the execution of the commission you have honoured me with." He added this in a lower tone intended only for Esther's ears; and she smiled at him gratefully. Mr. Selby Layton made himself very pleasant these last hours of his first visit to the Towers, and not only to Esther but to both ladies. He talked with Miss Worcester on all her favourite topics, and when he was alone with Esther discussed her secret plan for benefiting the Vancourt family, as if the project were as close to his heart as to hers. He hung about Esther all the evening, and he sang some of his prettiest songs in a voice of melting tenderness; and every now and then he glanced towards her with a wistful, devoted expression in his lue eyes which meant unutterable things. But, as it hap- pened, Esther did not catch one of these glances; for, as she listened to the flood of melody which would have made Selby Layton's fortune on the operatic stage, she was thinking of Mr. Gordon of all persons in the world ! She was recalling the way in which he had ridden up to her and so skilfully saved her from what might have been a serious accident; of his gentleness with the child whose love he had so evidently won; of his wonderful self-possession; and, more than all else, of the strange fact, which Nettie had innocently dis- closed, that he carried her blood-stained handkerchief about him. Why did he do it? It was very disrespectful of him. He had no right to keep her handkerchief. Should she ask him for it? No; she could scarcely do that, and, after all, it didn't matter. Martin would get well presently, and this strange Mr. Gordon would leave the place. She sighed and murmured: "Thank you! Very beautiful!" as Mr. Selby Layton finished his last ravishing song, and Miss Worcester gathered 1OVB, THE TYBAIT?. 99 jp her knitting as a sign that it was time for bed. She left Esther and Selby Lay ton alone for a moment or two, and he drew near to the girl, and looked down at her pensively and sighed. It was too soon for him to speak yet; something about Esther warned him to be careful; but there was so much at stake that he thought he must venture upon at least, a hint. " I cannot tell you how happy I have been at ths Towers, Miss Vancourt," he said, his voice like a flute; " or with what sorrow I leave it. This has been the happiest time of my life; and I shall think of it as I sit in my lonely chambers re- calling the delightful hours I have spent here." " It's very kind of you to say so," said Esther. " I am sure we shall miss you very much, and I am very glad that you've not found it very dull. We hope that you will come down again.'* " I may have something to tell you about the Vanconrt people," he said. " Perhaps you will let me bring my re- port." He took the hand she held out to him, half raised it to his lips; but no man had ever touched Esther's cheek or hand, and, with a little touch of colour in her ivory face, she drew her hand away. Mr. Selby Layton's smile remained sweet until he had reached his room, then it fled and his lips took on their nasty twist. " Proud as the very devil, and cold as a stone!" he mut- tered. " I'll pay her back in her own coin some day!" CHAPTER XII. THE Towers seemed rather dull after Mr. Selby Layton had gone. Miss Worcester deplored his absence openly, and Esther missed his wonderful voice in the evenings. She paid and received visits amongst her neighbours, but she did not know enough of them yet to be friendly, and the time hung heavy on her hands. She did not go near the home farm for a couple of days; but that did not prevent her from thinking of Mr. Gordon, and the more she thought the more annoyed with herself she became. On the third day she met him quite by accident as she was walking across the end of the home farm. He was on the colt, but the horse was at a stand-still, and its rider was locking rather moodily over the wido stretch of grass-land before him. Esther came quite close up to him before he saw her, then he raised his hat as if he expected her to pass on. Esther would like to have done so, bat she 1 stopped as if she couldn't help it* 100 MVE, THE TT&UTfc " Good-mwuing, Mr. Gordon," she said. " You look like .Napoleon surveying a battle-field. Is anything the matter? Isn t the grass growing to your liking?" " Oh, the grass is all right," he replied; " and there'll be a good crop; but I was wondering how on earth we were going to get it in." " How do you generally get it in?" she asked, looking round her helplessly. " Well, the way they try to get it in is to put half a dozen old men in to cut and carry it; and while they're muddling about, the rain comes, and the crop's spoilt. To save it properly, you want a hay-cutting machine, a hay-turning ma- chine, and those you haven't got." " Why not?" asked Esther. " Because you haven't," he said in his brusque fashion. " Last year half the crop was spoilt, Martin tell me; all for the want of machinery. Out in Aus out in the colonies they'd have all the latest machinery, and save the whole thing." " Then why don't we have it here?" enquired Esther. Jack shrugged his shoulders, and got off his horse. It was not fitting that he should be seated while Miss Vanconrt, of the Towers, was standing: Esther noticed his change of posi- tion. Yes; if not actually a gentleman, he " behaved as euch." " Because Sir Richard didn't take enough interest. I've explained that before. Everything's been neglected; the game, the farm, everything. And it wouldn't cost much. Give me two hundred, three hundred pounds, and I'd buy the machinery and pay for it almost in the first season." This is the way a woman likes to hear a man talk. Esther's eyes sparkled as she turned them to him swiftly. " Then take the three hundred pounds and go and buy it, Mr. Gordon," she said. Jack caught fire at her enthusiasm. " All right," he said, holding out his hand. '* Give me the money." Esther laughed. " I don't carry three hundred pounds about with me, Mr. Gordon; bat if you'll come up to the house, I'll give yon a cheque." " I shall have to go up to London," said Jack; " I shall save sixty pounds. I want it at once." " Come to the house," she said. He walked beside her, and giving the colt to ft groom* en* W5VT5, THE TYRANT. 101 tared the hall with her. She left him and went into the library and wrote a cheque for five hundred pounds, which she held out to him. " What's this?" said Jack. " I said three hundred." " But there are your expenses!" explained Esther. '* And and I don't know whether you've been paid any salary?" Jack shook his head. He had about ten shillings in his pocket. " That'll come later," he said. " I wish you to take it now," she said; " at five pounds a week." Jack stared at her and laughed. " That's nonsense," he said. " About thirty bob a week is my wage." Esther drew herself up haughtily. " That is for me to decide, Mr. Gordon," she said. Then, as she saw the unrelenting look on Jack's face, she added, meekly: " Say three pounds a week." Jack shrugged his shoulders. " All right. It's not for me to quarrel about that. IH go up to London to-night and buy " " Buy what you like," paid Esther. Jack laughed. " That's rather a large order and a free hand, Miss Vaa- court." " I don't understand anything about it," said Esther. " I trust to you." Jack's face grew suddenly grave. -^ " I'll do just as if the farm were my own," he said, quietly. " Don't you be afraid, Miss Vancourt." " I'm not afraid," said Esther, proudly. He nodded, and stalked out of the hall. There were weep- ing and wailing from Nettie when he declared his intention of going up by the night train, and he had to get her to sleep in his arms, so great was her grief; then Georgie drove him to the station, and, with Miss Vancourt's liberal cheque in his pocket, Jack was carried to London. On the journey he thought a great deal. His was certainly the strangest posi- tion in which a man had ever been placed. He was acting as servant on the estate which actually belonged to him. This was strange enough, but more strange and remarkable was the fact that he was not unhappy in his position. The home farm interested him, but the mistress of Vancourt Towers in- terested him still more. He regarded her with a strange feel- iiig, in which something like pity predominated: she seemed 102 LOVE, THE TYRANT. so alone, so helpless. And she reminded him of his dead chum in every word and gesture. There were times when she spoke and smiled that the real Jack Gordon seemed to stand before him. He reached London, and he put up at a quiet and inexpen- sive hotel. At breakfast the next morning, he realised that he was still in his old riding-suit well enough in the coun- try, but scarcely suitable to London; and that desire to be properly clad which is the instinct of every gentleman assailed him as he was getting through his second egg; but, with his duty strongly before him, he went off and interviewed the agri- cultural engineers before he sought a tailor, with whom, as " Arthur Burton," he had had numerous dealings. The man remembered him, and greeted him with a respectful cor- diality. " I've get a dress-suit that I made for you just before you went abroad, Mr. Burton," he said, " and I was wondering whether you'd ever call for it." " All right," said Jack. " Send it on;" and he gave the address of his hotel. He spent the remainder of his first day inspecting the agri- cultural machinery, and when he got back in the evening, he found his dress-suit, overcoat and all complete, awaiting him. It was a very long while since he had donned evening attire, and the sight of the clothes reminded him of past days, when he had dressed every night for dinner, in accordance with the custom of the set to which he belonged. He dressed that night and thought he would go to the theatre: it was a long time since he had been inside any place of amusement in London. His reflection in the glass, when he had put on the things, smote him strangely. Say what you will, man is very much what his tailor makes him, and Jack Gordon of the home farm looked a very different person in correct dress clothes. He smiled at himself grimly, thinking, " Fine feathers make fine birds;" and having eaten his dinner, walked down to the Strand and turned into a theatre. Every seat was full, and, not much disappointed, he lit a cigar the first cigar he had smoked for many a long day and strolled westward. He made his way towards Hyde Park, and paused beside the railings which front Park Lane to look at the flowers in the park on one hand, and those sumptuous and costly build- ings which face it; and for a moment the thought struck him, if he were to claim his own, he might be living in one THE TYRANTS 103 of these sonptnous houses which are reserved for the English nobility and the African millionaire. As he was looking at the flowers through the railings, a little girl came up to him and offered him, in whining ac- cents, a bunch of roses. He gave the child a shilling; and, with a look of surprise, she ran on in front of him. A mo- ment later a tall, dark man with a black moustache passed him. The flower-girl, encouraged, perhaps, by Jack's lib- erality, stopped this man and offered him her bunch of faded blossoms. She was very persistent and troublesome, no doubt, and Jack saw the man half j)ush, half strike her from his path. She fell against he railings and whimpered; and, with a rush of blood to his head, Jack sprang forward and caught the man by the collar of his seedy coat. Jack had merely meant to expostulate with him, to call him to account for pushing and striking a helpless waif of the street; but as be seized the man, a sudden flood of recollection swept over him. He had seen the man before. The dark face, the cold, malicious eyes awakened a memory. Unless he were mad or dreaming, this man's face was that of the chief of the rangerg who had burst into the hut, who had killed the real Jack Gordon, his chum! For a moment he was too overwhelmed by the resemblance to utter a word; then he cried: "It's you! You!" The man staggered back, then he struck out wildly, and his blows were smart and heavy. Jack struck back, still keep- ing hold of the man. All the past came back to him vividly. Wonderful, marvellous as it was, this was the man who had shot his chum. The chief of the rangers. Here in London! The two men struggled and fought, as if to the death. The flower-girl crouched against the railing, the cabs and car- riages rattled by. Jack got his opponent down on his knees for one moment, but the man was as slippery as an eel, and he slid to his feet again and closed with Jack. But Jack's enormous strength would have told and the man would have been at his mercy, if at this moment a stalwart park keeper had not run forward and thrown his arms about Jack. ; ' What's wrong here?" he exclaimed. " Hold that man!" exclaimed Jack. "I know him don't let him go!" But the park keeper, seeing that Jack was the stronger, dung to him, the man slipped from his grasp and took to his heels, and Jack stood, helpless, in the hands of the sturdy guardian of order. The bushranger, if it were indeed he, 104 LOVE, THE TYEANT. fled down South Audley Street, and Jack was teit/ Attiv 49fh the keeper and the frightened flower-girl. CHAPTER XIIL THE park keeper who struggled with Jack was a big man and a strong, and it was a minute or two before Jack could free himself and acquaint the keeper with the fact that he was detaining the wrong man. At last he did succeed in get- ting free, and, with the little breath that was left him, de mauded angrily and, I fear, with a familiar expletive: " Why on earth did you hold me and let the other fellow go?" * Well, sir, I saw you strike the gentleman saw yon with toy own eyes and I naturally went for you." " I struck the villain because I saw him strike that child there; and then I recognised him as a " He stopped; for it was of no use telling the park keeper that the man who had escaped was the chief of a gang of Australian bushrangers: the park keeper would probably think he was out of his mind, and would want to drag him off to the nearest police station. " But it's no use bothering about it now," he continued; " the man's got away. Let us see if the child's hurt." But long before this the little street-girl, who had regarded the park keeper's appearance on the scene as that of a natural and official foe, to be dreaded only one degree less than the hated policeman, had fled the scene. " Very sorry, sir!" said the park keeper, who long before this had decided that he was speaking to a gentleman; " al- ways difficult to tell, when there's a row between two persons, which is in fault. I hope you're not hurt, sir?" " Not at all," said Jack, with a short laugh. " I'm a bit crumpled, though," looking down at his crashed shirt-front and twisted tie. He gave the keeper a shilling, wished him a pleasant " good-night," and then went down South Audley Street with rage and disappointment burning in his heart. That the ranger should be in London was marvellous enough, but that he, Jack, should have met him and had him in his grip, and then lost him, was maddening. Jack was the last man to bear malice the malice of the low and common nature. If the ranger had confined the attack in the hut to himself, there would have been no craving for re- venge in Jack's heart: he had been too used to fighting dur- ing his rough life to bear malice against a foe, vanquished or ooBcpiering; bat this villain had shit the real Jack GorcUo, LOVE, THE TYRANT. 105 had murdered Jack's chum, and that chum was Esther Van- court's brother; and it is not too much to say that Jack thirsted for the man's blood with an earnestness which was, alas! very heathenish. The man was not fit to live, and if Jack had met him out in the wilds, he would assuredly have shot him on sight. He walked down South Audley Street, looking abort him, though he felt certain that the man had escaped, and that only & chance, such as that which he had lost, would bring him face to face with him again; but, if such a chance should occur, Jack told himself that the man would not be per- mitted to escape a second time. At the end of the street he turned to the right and walked on aimlessly, still keeping a sharp lookout. Suddenly, to his delight, he saw the man passing the end of the street. Jack slipped into a door- way and thought for a moment. If he followed, the ranger, with the start he had got, would be sure to outrun him; so Jack, with the cunning of the backwoods- man, struck the street parallel to the one which the ranger had entered, and running down it, turned the corner and waited, ready to spring upon the man as he passed. He set his teeth and gathered himself together for the spring, for he knew that it would be a hard struggle; but the seconds grew into minutes, and his prey did not appear. Very cautiously, keeping in the shadow of the houses, Jack stole to the corner of the street. It was empty; there was no one in sight. Not a little startled and surprised, Jack hid in a door-way and considered the situation. It was evident that the ranger had entered one of the houses: but which? It was a long street, and Jack could not very well knock at every door and enquire if a tall, dark man had entered. There was nothing to be done but to wait and watch on the chance of the man's reap- pearance. If he could have been in the street & minute earlier, he would have been in time to see the ranger knock at the door of No. 14. It was opened by Levett, and before he said a word, the ranger closed it quickly. " Is Mr. Selby Lay ton in?" he asked. The astonished and indignant Levett replied that he would go and see. " That means that he is," said the ranger. " Don't yon trouble to announce me. I'll go straight up to him. I'm an old friend;" and he sprang up the stairs before the outraged Levett could intercept him, even if he had intended doing so. Selby Layton was lying back in the easiest of easy-chairs, 1C6 LOVE, THE TYEAOT. smoking , cigar and reading the last minor poet. The room was the picture of comfort and bachelor luxury; the furniture was Chippendale, excepting the easy-chair, which was far too comfortable for that elegant but severe style; the decorations and hangings were in the best taste; the water-colours on the wall were good examples of modern masters; there was a semi-grand piano by Broad wood; there were flowers on the table and cabinets, and a rosewood book-case filled with vol- umes in choice and expensive bindings. Mr. Layton had taken off his dress-coat and donned a light and comfortable dressing-gown, and looked serene and peaceful and altogether at his ease. But all his serenity and ease fled as the door opened and the tall, dark man stood and glowered at him. Selby Layton forced a sickly smile, and rose with an attempt at welcome. " Ah, Denzil!" he said. " How do you do?" His voice shook slightly, and his affectation at heartiness would not have deceived an infant. Denzil closed the door, and, taking no notice of Selby Layton's proffered hand, sank into the easy-chair from which his host had risen, drew a long breath, and wiped the perspiration from his face with an angry, impatient gesture. I suppose if I hadn't come up, you would have told that lying hound you weren't at home.'"' he said. *' My dear Denzil, how unjust!" said Selby Layton. "I came back from the country on purpose to meet you. Yon seem hot. What is that on your face surely not blood?" " Very likely," said Denzil, curtly. " I had a row with a drunken beast just now. And I am hot: give me a drink, sharp!" With a smile Selby Layton was about to ring the bell, but thought better of it, and got out some Dda and whiskey from a chaste-looking cabinet. " Say when, my dear Denzil," he said. Denzil said *' when " as the glass was half full, and taking the tumbler before Selby Layton could add the soda-water, drank off the neat spirit. " Ah, that's better! Now you can give me a long drink and a cigar." Selby Layton mixed the drink and handed the silver-gilt cigar-box. Denzil took one of the choice Havanas, filled his pockets with the remainder, and looked at the silver box longingly, as if he would like to put that in his pocket also ; and placed it, with marked reluctance, on the table. " And how .have you been, and where have .you been, mj LOVE, THE TYRAOT. 1C . dear Denril?" asked Selby Layton. " I thought you were in Australia." " You mean you wished I was," said Denzil, as he lit his cigar and threw himself back with an insolent air of self- assurance. " But I'm not; I'm here in London, you see." " So I see," said Selby Layton, still smiling, but with the twist of his upper lip beginning to show. " Of course I don't want to interfere in your affairs, my dear Benzil; but do you think it is wise?" " That's my lookout," said DenziL " Quite so," remarked Selby Layton, smoothly. "But the police have long memories, my dear Denzil, and that little affair of yours was so very very desperate, that I am afraid if you were seen and recognised Forgive me, but I cannot help thinking that you were safer in Australia." "You mean that you were safer," retorted Denzil, with an ugly sneer. " Australia was well enough, but it didn't suit ma, and I got tired of it." " Just so just so!" assented Selby Layton. " It is a won- derful country, rich in resources; I hope that you did well there, my dear Denzil?" " On the contrary, your ' dear Denzil ' did very badly; so badly that he was obliged to come back, and very glad he is to get back. You appear to be in clover, my dear Selby," he remarked, mimicking Selby Layton's soft voice. " Pros- pering, eh? You always were the cunning kind of dog that can get the meat while others have the bones." " Admiring my room, iny dear Denzil? Yes, it is comfort- able, and I am fairly prosperous. Hard work, you know; hard work." Denzil laughed a mirthless and contemptuous laugh. " Hard work! You never did a day's hard work in your life! I wish I'd had you out in Australia with me; I'd have shown you what work meant. How do you manage it, eh? That's no business of mine. I'm glad you're prospering, be- cause you're able to help a pal who's down on his luck. Selby Layton looked grave and shook his head. " I shall be only too delighted to help you, my dear Den- zil," he said. " But I fear" Denzil expectorated on the Persian carpet and looked Selby Layton full in the face with calm insolence. " I want a hundred pounds," he said, as if he were remark* ing that he wanted another glass of whiskey. Selby Layton. started and sank into a chair. 108 IJOVE, THE TYRAKT. " It's qtrite impossible," he said. " I haven't a pounds in the world. I might manage five-and-twenty." Denzil looked round the expensively furnished room sig- nificantly. " You can raise a bill of sale on this for more than doubk the amount," he said, coolly. The ugly twist in Selby Layton's lip became more pro- nounced. " There may be a bill of sale on it already, my dear Den- zil," he said, " I don't care. A hundred pTJunds I want, and mean to have it. Borrow it, steal it, get it how you like; I don't mind, I mean to have it before I leave here to-night." Selby Layton crossed his legs, and clasping his knee with his white hands, looked at his companion with a smile that, in its way, was as ugly as Denzil's. " My dear Denzil, don't you think you are a little exigent, not to say a tittle presumptuous? And does it not occur to you that I may refuse to give you anything; indeed, that I may summon my servant, send for a policeman and give you in charge? Really, it would be the simplest and wisest way of meeting your exorbitant demand." Denzil did not seem at all impressed. " Simple enough, I daresay," he said, reachimg for the whiskey decanter; " but not very wise." " 1 don't know," murmured Selby Layton, thoughtfully. " The police would take you off my hands, and I should be lid of you. for How many years do they give for forgery?" Denzil's sinister face grew black and his eyes glittered. " You don't bluff badly, Selby," he said. " But you for- get that you don't hold all the cards. I hold some. Here's one of 'em." He took a dingy pocket-book from his pocket, and leisurely extracting a long slip of paper, waved it significantly. " Call the police, and I'll hand them this, and tell them the little secret you've kept so carefully; and I'll take care to let the person this concerns know where to find you. I fancy you'd pay more than a hundred pounds to keep me quiet." Selby Layton's face went pale, and he watched the slip of paper, as it was restored to the pocket-book, in silence. ** Judging by your surroundings, I should imagine yoa don't want to be disturbed in the little game you're playing wnatever it may be," said Denzil. " There's sure to be some little game, there always was, for you couldn't run straight. any more than some othars of us; and I daresay you're DC 1C LOVE, THE TYRANT. 109 more anxious to face the police than I am. We're in the same boat, you and I, Selby, and if it goes down, we go down together. I'll say nothing about this, and I'll hold my tongue for a hundred pounds. Give it me in notes, and try and do it cheerfully." Selby Lay ton sat in silent thought for a moment or two, his upper lip twitching, his white hands strained round bis knee. " If I were sure that a hundred pounds were the grand total, my dear Denzil," he said. " But from what I know ?f you, I feel sure that it is not. With a man of yonr ex- pensive tastes such a sum, large though it is, does not go very far. It is quite possible that you'll be here in a week's time, bent on further blackmailing." Denzil shrugged his shoulders. " I daresay I might," he said; " but it's not very probable, I want to leave the country again, and I shall do it with this money. But I don't want to argue, and I don't want to haggle. And I don't make any promises, neither. Give me the money, or call the police, as you threatened; but while they are coming, I'll make it worth while sending for them." He rose, and with the cigar in the corner of his mouth, 'iook out a revolver and covered Selby Layton. Selby Layton did not move, and smiled contemptuously. " My dear Denzil, my man is in the hall down-stairs; you sould not leave the house any other way the window is too nigh. Eevolvers may be very useful in Australia, but they are quite out of place in London quite out of place." Denzil's nostrils expanded with an ugly smile. " Move an inch and I'll shoot you!" he said. " I'm des- perate, and I'd as soon be lagged for this as for the other. I'll give you one minute to make up your mind." " You really mean it?" said Selby Layton. " I suppose I must give you a cheque " "Thanks; I think not," said Denzil. "You have the notes by you, I know; for you knew I was coming, and would be prepared." Selby Layton laughed. " Your perspicacity is remarkable. Yes, 1 expend to be blackmailed by you, and I am prepared. I make this ad- mission, my dear Denzii, because I assure you that it is the last money I shall give you, let the consequences be what they may. As you say, if we go down, we go down together, and, from what I know of you, I am convinced that you value your own safety too highly to endanger it lightly. If you'll 110 LOVE, THE excuse me one moment, I will get you the notes. They are in the next room " Denzil nodded grimly. " Leave the door open," he said. " If you attempt to escape, I fire." Selby shot a glance at him fall of hate, but said nothing, and went into the next room. He was back again in a minute with some notes in his hand. " There is the money," he said. " The last you will ever have." Denzil put the notes In his pocket-book, filled his glass again, and drank it leisurely, as leisurely lit another cigar, and, with a nod, sauntered to the door. There he turned and looked at Selby Lay ton with sinister curiosity. " I wonder what your little game is? You would not give me a hundred pounds to hold my tongue unless my silence was well worth it. Is it anything I can help you In, Selby? If so, say so, and we'll go into partnership." Selby Lay ton eyed him under haltclosed lids. " I desire your assistance as little as I desire your presence, my dear Denzil. You have got your money; let me advise you to depart before I change my mind," With a laugh of insolent contempt Denzil opened the door, listened for a moment, then went down-stairs and let himself out. He opened and shut the door so softly that Jack, hidden in his door- way, though he was listening with all his ears, did not hear him; but he caught sight of him presently as Denzil passed down the other side of the street. Now, while he had been waiting, Jack had had time to consider the situation. He had intended springing out upon the man, overpowering him, and giving him into custody, charging him with the murder of the real Jack Gordon; but on consideration he saw that this course was scarcely advis- able. In the first place, he would find it difficult to substan- tiate the charge the crime was committed in Australia, he had no witnesses nothing beyond his bare word, which would not be sufficient to prove the man's identity. Then again, if he gave the man in charge, he would have to declare his own identity, would be compelled to break his promise to his dead chum, to reveal the fact that he himself was Sir John Van- court, and that Esther, the sister of the man who had laid down his life for him, was only a usurper. As the reader will no doubt have discovered, Jack was n^ supernaturally clever, and the problem puzzled him. E" 1 could only decide to follow the man, to track him to his laii> LOVE, THE TYBAOT. Ill Wuerever it w, and to postpone the day of reckoning to a more convenient time: Jack swore to himself that the day of reckoning should come. He waited until Denzil, walking quickly, had passed him und reached the end of the street, then he followed him. As lie had expected, Denzil got into a hansom cab, and Jack jumped into another. " Follow that cab," he said. " And don't lose sight of it; but don't let the other driver know you're following him." The cabman winked he thought Jack was a detective and the pursuit began. Denzil's cab struck off north to the great thoroughfare of Oxford Street, passed into a quieter part of the town, and pulled up suddenly at the corner of a forsaken and neglected little square. It was a dingy place with shabby and squalid houses. Deuzil's cab had stopped at a dirty and flaring public-house, and Jack, at a discreet dis- tance, saw Denzil pay and dismiss his cabman and enter the public. Telling his man to wait, Jack got out, and, button- ing up his coat closely, approached the public-house, and, having assured himself that there was no exit from the back by which Denzil could escape, waited for his man to come out. There was a good deal of noise inside the house, as if some of the customers were drunk. Presently two or three men came out. They were low-looking ruffians, and, though they were fairly sober, Jack could see that they had been drinking heavily. They passed him, all three walking close together and talking eagerly and in an under-tone; but as they went by, Jack distinctly heard one word " Notes." Presently they separated and disappeared, one down an alley, the others up the narrow streets branching from the square. A minute or two afterwards Denzil came out of the public-house, paused for a moment to look round him warily, then went in the direction the men had taken, and passed Jack almost as closely as they had done. Jack remained in the door-way which screened him until Denzii had gone about fifty yards; then he set out to follow him. Denzil passed the mouth of the alley, a low whistle sounded, a man sprang from the alley, threw his arms round Denzil's neck, and the two other men came running from their hiding-places to help their confederate. This new move took Jack by surprise, and he stopped short and watched for a minute, asking himself what he should do. But very few Englishmen can stand idle while one man is fighting against odds, though that one mao should be his 112 "LOVE, THE TYRANT. deadly foe, and Jack, with a shout, ran towarun tnem. Th*> thieves heard him, and, being only common footpads, they at ones took the alarm, and flinging Denzil to the ground, made off. Jack expected Denzil to remain quiet for a time, at any rate; but the man rose quickly, as if he were not hurt, and, without waiting to see how he had been rescued, ran down the street and disappeared round the corner. Jack started after him, but as he reached the spot where Denzil had fallen, his foot struck against something. He picked it up and found it to be a large and shabby pocket- book. Slipping it into his pocket, he took up the pursuit again; but Denzil was not to be seen. The place was a network of narrow streets, each so like the other that Jack soon got confused. Every now and then the line of houses was broken by a court or alley, down any one of which his prey might have darted. Very much disappointed, Jack, after a good deal of diffi- culty, found his way back to his cab, and told the man to drive him to the hotel; and having paid the man liberally, went up to his room. He had been so absorbed in his pursuit and his disappointment at his failure to track the ranger, that he had forgotten the pocket-book; and it was not until after he had had his supper and was going to bed that the sight of his overcoat, which he had thrown across a chair, re- minded him of his " find." He went for it eagerly, and ex- amined it, turning out the contents of the pockets on to the dressing-table. To say that he was amazed at the sight of the packet of bank-notes, quite inadequately describes his sensation; but there they were, staring up at him, to the extent of a hun- dred pounds. The only other loose paper was a certificate of marriage between " Adolphus Robinson " and " Margaret Mayhew." On the leaves of the pocket-book were written faded and almost indistinct memoranda, and the only other loose paper was a pawn-ticket for a silver watch. So far as he knew, there was nothing to prove that the pocket-book which lay there on the table was the property of the ranger. His name might be Robinson; but it might not Jack had no means of knowing. The thing might have fallen from the pockets of one of the thieves, though it was unlikely that such footpads should possess so large a sum of money. The thing was a mystery, and Jack felt not a little con- fused and embarrassed. Here was a hundred pounds in aotes; and what should he do with, it? If he took it to tha LOVE, THE TYRANT. 113 police which would be the easiest thing to do they would at once ask inconvenient questions questions which Jack would find it difficult to answer; for the first would be: " What is your name, sir?" " I am afraid I shall have to take charge of this myself/' he said. "If it belongs to that scoundrel, he can have it by applying to Mr. Jack Gordon, foreman of the Vancourt home farm!" Considering that it was the proper thing to do, he wrapped the pocket-book with its notes in a sheet of paper, and ring- ing for some sealing-wax, sealed it and put it safely away in his bag. Then he went to bed and dreamt, not of the ranger, but of Esther Vancourt! CHAPTER XIV. JACK would very much have liked to have gone down to the place where he had lost sight of the ranger and have tried to track him; but he remembered that he was Miss Vanoourt'a servant, and that he had come up to London on her business. So, having arranged with the manufacturers to send down the machines he had bought, he packed up his things and took train for home; and though it may be presumed that a man with money in his pocket would enjoy a longer acquaintance with the delights of the wonderful metropolis, he got into the train with a sense of relief and pleasure. He was going back to hard work; but he was fond cf hard work, and he had grown fond of the home farm. He might have added, of Vancourt Towers and the mistress thereof; but he would not admit as much, even to himself. When he got out at the small country station with the bag which con- tained, amongst other things, his dress clothes which had seen such adventures, and the mysterious pocket-book, he was prepared to walk to the home farm; but he found a dog-cart from the Towers awaiting him. " Miss Vancourt sent to meet you, sir," said Giles, touch- ing his hat as usual. " Very kind of her," said Jack. " Any news, Giles?" " No, Mr. Gordon," said Giles. " Leastways, not much. Martin got out of bed yesterday, and hurt hisself, and the doctor sent him back again. And there's been some poach- ers in the West Spinney." " Martin's an idiot; and that poaching will have to be stopped," said Jack. 114 IXJVE, THE "Hope you've enjoyed yourself in Lunnun, sir?" Giles. " Oh, very much, thank you,"' replied Jack, drily, think- ing of his adventures. The dog-cart sprang along the road, and Jack, as he drove the good horse, drew a long breath and felt how pleasant it was to be back. As they were passing the principal gate of the Towers, who should come out but Miss Esther Vancourt herself. At sight of her, Jack's heart gave a curious little bound: he thought it was one of admiration; for she was a beautiful picture, standing there in her white frock, with the sunlight dancing in her grey eyes. Close beside her was Bob Bob apparently quite happy and contented. Jack raised his hat and was going to drive on; but she held up her hand with a little imperious gesture which struck Jack as de- licious, and so he pulled up. " You have come back, Mr. Gordon?" she said, with a faint smile and as faint a blush in the clear pallor of her cheek. " Yes, Miss Vancourt/' he said. " I've got the machines all right; they'll be down directly." " I hope you've had a pleasant time," said Esther. " You see, I have Bob here. He fretted after you had gone, and I brought him up to the house. He seems to have taken to me, and he appears to be pretty happy. He follows me about everywhere; but of course he'll desert me now," she added, as Bob, having heard his master's voice, made futile attempts to climb into the dog-cart. " Thank you very much," said Jack. " Go back, Bob! Go back at once!" Bob, with drooping tail and a reproachful glance, sidled back to Esther. " Oh, let him go with you!" she said. " He will be heart- broken." " No, no," said Jack, " Bob mustn't be ungrateful; and he must learn to obey." Raising his hat, he drove on, and was in due course de- posited at the home farm; and there he found Bob awaiting him : obedience and loving devotion had been in conflict, and the latter had won. Jack went up to Martin, and found him despondent and rebellious. " You were an ass to get out of bed," said Jack, " though I can quite understand it: I should have been just as great an ass myself. And now you'll have to lie here a few weeEs LOVE, THE TYBAOTc longer. But don't you worry! Things are going on all right; I've bought the machines you've wanted all these years, and we'll get in the crops as they should be got in; and by the time you're right again I shall be able to sheer off with a clear conscience." It was not so easy to escape from Nettie, who welcomed him as if hi had been away for years, and who insisted upon sitting upon his knee while he had his tea. " Miss Vancourt's been very tind to me while you have been away, Jack," she said. " I've been ever so many rides in the jingle with her. And we talk about you most of the time. She said I must be very good and do as you tell me. But I do, don't I, Jack?" "It would be very bad for you if you didn't," said Jack, with mock severity. " Now I've come back, I'm going to keep you in order. This measles business is about played out, and you'll have to carry me instead of me carrying you. So Miss Vancourt has been ' tind ' to you, has she?" After he had had his tea he went to the cottage and changed his clothes. With his wages he had bought a new suit to replace his torn and weather-staiaed one, and he put this on before starting on his round of inspection ; for the foreman of the farm, such as that of Vancourt, needed to be always on the alert. He went round the fields, gave some directions to the men and Georgie the latter still regarded him with saucer-like eyes and gaping mouth and then walked towards the plantation. It was so called because Bichard, in a sudden spasm of duty, had planted some larch and firs on the edge of a steep declivity to the west of the home farm; but although he had planted it, he had neglected it after planting it; and Jack had resolved to thin out some of the young trees. While he was looking at them meditatively, a girl came from amongst them and stood on the edge of the little preci- pice which was made by the sudden drop of the land. She was tall and graceful and wore a thin shawl over her head, and Jack saw that she was Kate Transom, the daugh- ter of the man he had caught poaching in the wood. She was gathering the broken branches which the wind had torn from the trees, and Jack watched her absently enough. The labourers on the estate enjoyed the privilege of gathering the dead wood, and she was, therefore, not trespassing; but Jack, as he watched, could not help thinking that it was a poor kind of occupation for so beautiful and so strong a girl. Quite unconscious of his presence, Kate went on with her 116 MJVE, THE TYRAOT. task, aad presently stood on the extreme edge of tho small precipice. " If that bit of ground were to give way, she'd fall and hurt herself," thought Jack. The thought had no sooner crossed his mind than the thing which he had contemplated happened. The strip of soil overhanging the hollowed bank yielded beneath the pressure of her foot, and she fell almost at Jack's feet. In failing, she struck her head against the trunk of an overhanging tree, and she lay motionless and lifeless. Jack knelt beside her and raised her head to his knee. She had fainted f i om the blow and the shock, and she looked like one already dead. If the accident had occurred in Australia, Jack would have had his brandy flask ready; but he had no flask with him now, and there was no water at hand wit.h which he could re- store her to her senses. She was in a dead faint, and there were no means at hand to recover her. There was nothing to be done but to carry her to the nearest house; and the nearest house happened to be his o\ n cottage It was the most natural thing in the world that he should carry her there. Though she was tall, she was slim and light, and raising her in his arms, he put her over his shoulder and slowly carried her to the cottage. The door was open, and he placed her in the old-fashioned chair in which she could recline almost at full length; then he got some water, and, awkwardly enough, no doubt, dabbed her face with it. Kate was a particularly handsome girl, and most men would have been struck by her regular features, by the rich mass of hair which framed her white face; but Jack was so intent upon restoring her to consciousness, that he had no mind left for her personal beauties. She opened her eyes at last and sighed. " It was not my fault, father," she murmured. " I didn't know that I was so near the edge. I'm sorry!" " It's all right," said Jack. " You didn't know that the ground was hollowed out there. Do you feel better now?" She sat up and looked round her confusedly; then, as her eyes rested on.Jack's face, the colour dyed her face a deep crimson. " Where am I?" she asked. " Did I fall?" " You are in my cottage," said Jack. " The edge of the plantation gave way with you. Bat I hope you're not hart? LOVE, THE TYRAOT. 117 YOM fell and struck your head. Let me look at it. Yes; a nasty blow, just on the temple. 1*11 bathe it for you." He got some more water and bathed the wound. She lay back, breathing painfully, with her eyes half closed. " You have saved my life!" she said. Jack laughed. " Nonsense!" he said. " I happened to be near when you fell that's all. Hold on a minute; I'll give you some tea. We Australians always think tea a sovereign remedy for every ill that man is heir to." " Do you come from Australia?" she asked, faintly. " Father has just come back from there." Jack bit his lip, and in silence made the tea. She drank a little of it, then rose and looked round the tiny room, as if she were embarrassed. " I will go now," she said. " I am quite "well. But 1 want to thank you, and I can't!" She stood, her eyes, dark and lustrous, fixed on his, then veiled by their lids. There was something in her gaze, in her very reticence, which made Jack uncomfortable. If it were not inhuman, he almost wished she would go. " Sure you're all right?" he asked. " Shall I go with yo? I know where you live, you know." " No, no!" she said. " I am quite well, quite able to walk now." Jack held out his hand, and she took it in hers; a long hand, browned by labour, bat shapely as a lady's. She raised his hand to her lips, and kissed it. " You have saved my life," she said. " I shall never for- get! Some day some time I may be able to tell you how grateful to repay you But I can't speak nowl Good- bye!" CHAPTER XV. THE morning after Jack's return, Esther woke with a strange sense of happiness, so strange that it half puzzled her, because the last two or three days she had felt dull and out of spirits and restless. She sang while she was dressing, and she was singing as she came down with a light step into the breakfast-room where Miss Worcester was awaiting her. " You seem happy this morning, my dear," said that lady, as Esther kissed her; and she looked fondly and admiringly at the beautiful face with its sparkling grey eyes and " which the sun had kissed to crimson. 118 X0VS, THE TYRAiTT. said Esther. "I think I am. % no wouldn't be happy om such a lovely morning? Did you ever see the sky so blue, the flowers so gorgeous. Oh, it's fine to be rich and to live in a beautiful house; to look out upon one's own park and woods and fields, and to know that one is mistress of Vancourt Towers. Think of it, aunt! But for Sir Rich- ard's will " She stopped a moment as if struck by a sud- den thought " and the death of that poor young fellow, his nephew," she added, gravely, " this morning I should just be starting out on the daily drudgery of the piano instead of sitting here at this gorgeous breakfast, my own mistress, with all the day before me to do what I like in. Aunt, I am firmly convinced that this is the best of all possible worlds!" she wound up with a laugh. " You are not quite free to do what you like to-day, my dear," said Miss Worcester, with a smile. " We have to lunch with the Fan worths this morning, you know." Esther made a little grimace, then, as if ashamed of it, said quickly: *' I like Lord Fanworth; he is so pleasant and good-nat- ured; and though Lady Fanworth is rather stiff and formal, not to say awesome, I think she is kind at heart. Oh, jes, I shall enjoy it; I feel as if I could enjoy anything to-day. What a pile of letters! I suppose most of them are begging letters, as usual. Every poor person in the world seems to have learnt of my good fortune and flown to me for assist- ance. I wish I could, send a thousand pounds to each of them, and I don't like to believe Mr. Floss when he says that nine-tenths of the letters come from impostors." " Charity begins at home, my dear Esther," remarked Miss Worcester,* as if* she were saying something desperately original. " I am sure there are plenty of poor in Vaucourt." " 1 am afraid there are," said Esther. " I ought to know them all; but I am still so new to the "business that I am rather shy. I always feel that if I were very poor I shouldn't like the rich person of the place to come poking into my cot- tage and asking me impertinent questions; I should be proud and disagreeable. But I must do my duty, as Mr. Gordon says." Miss Worcester sniffed. " Very impertinent of Mr. Gordon to make such a remark, I think, my dear." ** Oh, no; Mr. Gordon is sometimes rough, but he ia never impertinent,." Esther said, as she turned over her let- I07B, THE TYBAOT/ 119 ters bufly. 4: It was in regard to the farm and the game that he made the remark." " 1 hear he is back," said Miss Worcester; " but I don't suppose it is true, for that dog of his was lying on the terrac* yesterday afternoon." Esther coloured slightly. " Mr. Gordon told him to stay with me, and he would have done so, but that I saw that he was breaking his heart for his master poor Bob, he looked at me so piteously so I sent him home; and he's happy enough now, I'll be bound." Amongst her letters was one from Mr. Selby Lay ton, and she opened and read it. It was a charming letter, full of re- grets that he was in smoky London instead of at delightful Vancourt; but it was also a business letter. He had been making enquiries and had discovered some of the poor mem- bers of the family; and he thought that if Esther could send him two hundred and fifty pounds he could distribute it judiciously, and, of course, anonymously. He would furnish Esther with the names of the recipients when he had com- pleted his task. Esther was very grateful to him, and after breakfast she went to the library and unlocking the drawer, in which she kept her deliciously new cheque-book, carefully wrote a cheque for the amount named and enclosed it in a pretty let- ter of thanks. He was not to bother about giving her the names, and she would be glad to send a much larger sum if he could dispose of it. She felt that morning as if she would like to make every- body in the world happy. She went out on the terrace, and leaning on the stone balustraJe, looked about her, singing softly; but presently her eyes were fixed on the blue wreath of smoke which rose from the farm lodge, and, perhaps it was only natural, her thoughts wandered to Jack Gordon. She did not realise how often she thought of him, and cer- tainly did not realise how much she had missed him while he had been away; and all her thoughts this morning were fa- vourable to him. Woman is quick to recognise a strong nat- ure, and she cannot come in contact with one without feeling its influence. There was something about Jack's independ- ence and self-reliance, his prompt and masterful way of get- ting what he wanted, of doing what he wished, which fasci- nated her. And yet with all ms masterfulness and dominance there was combined a gentleness and tenderness towards all things weaker than himself which impressed her more tham 120 LOVE, THE TYRANT* all else in his character. He was like a woman in his otre and affection for Nettie and Bob; and even to herself he had at times been gentle and almost tender. Since he had come to the farm she had been conscious of a sense of security, of encouragement, which seemed strange and inexplicable, seeing that she was the mistress of Vancourt Towers and the man was only her servant. She felt that sense of security very strongly this morning as she knew that he was back and was near her, almost within call. As the thought occurred to her, she was conscious of a de- sire to see him, to call to him, and it startled her, and after a moment annoyed her. Why should she be thinking so frequently of this young man, this stranger who had come from no one knew where, who had to be off again no one knew whither as soon as Mar- tin could get about again? She shrugged her shoulders with a little gesture of impa- tience. " All this wealth and luxury is making me slothful and fanciful," she said, with self-rebuke. " I must find some- thing to do, something to occupy what I call my mind." Her aunt's speech about the Vancourt poor occurred to her. There were several vacant hours before they need to start for the Fanworths; she would fill in the tune by visiting some of the poor cottagers; she had to make a start with the thing, and the sooner she did so the better. She got her broad-brimmed hat from the hall, and with a strange feeling of happiness singing about her heart, went out forthwith. Now, the nearest way to the village was through the home farm; but just because of her vague desire to see Mr. Gordon, she made a detour round the park and came on the village by the west lodge. There were very few people about, but those who were, greeted her as if she were a kind of queen; as, in- deed, she was to those simple folks with whom the Towers was quite as grand and important a place as Windsor Castle or Buckingham Palace. The men touched their hats, the women curtseyed, and some gave " Good-morning, miss," with that mixture of feu- dal respect and affection which still flourishes in rural Eng- land. Esther stopped and spoke to some of the children, and asked questions of a woman respecting a sick child which she held closely wrapped in a blanket. The woman was nervous and overwhelmed by Miss Vancourt's kindness, and Esther was a little sky at first; but her shyness wore off after awhile. KJVB, THE TYRAST. 121 She promised to send down some dainties for the child from the Towers, then went on her way. She had often noticed the dilapidated cottages at the end of the lane or street, and as she came to them now she thought it would be as well to visit one of them. The Transoms' door happened to be open, and she went up to it and knocked gently; then, seeing a girl bending over the fire, she stepped in with a pleasant " Good-morning!" Kate started, and turned and regarded her visitor with a half-frightened look. The sunlight was streaming unon Esther, and in her beauty and grace she looked like a vision to the labourer's daughter, who gazed at her in silence. On her part, Esther was somewhat startled by Kate's rustic beauty. She noticed the girl's hair, bound in a glorious coil of bronze at the back of her head; and presently she saw that after the momentary flush, the girl's face was pale and wan, as if she were ill or in trouble. They stood and looked at each other for a minute, neither of them guessing how im- portant a part each was to play in the other's life; then Esther said: " Will you be so kind as to give me a glass of water? It is so very hot, and I am thirsty." Kate murmured something inaudibly, drew a chair up for her visitor, and taking up a glass, went out for the water. When she had filled the glass, she stood looking straight be- fore her, her brows knit, her lips closely set. Since the day she had watched Jack Gordon walking beside Esther, Kate had taken an instinctive dislike to her, though why she could not have told. Any one of the other women in the village would have felt honoured and flattered by a visit from the young mistress of the Towers; but to Kate, Esther's presence was unwelcome. Her very beauty and grace roused some- thing antagonistic in Kate's bosom, and even the gentle voice jarred upon her. As she remembered how Mr. Gordon and Miss Vancourt had laughed and talked and looked at each other as th^ey passed her hiding-place in the wood, Kate's handsome face darkened and a strange feeling of resentment rose within her. Why had she come? What did she want? Why could not the mistress of \ aucourt Towers leave such humble people as themselves alone? She had Mr. Gordon tc walk with and talk with. What else did she want? She went in with the water at last, and set it down on the table beside Esther, and Esther drank some. " Thank you very much!" she said. " How deliciously colditisl I am ashamed to trouble you. I daresay you know 122 LOVE, THE TTEANT. who I am, but I am sorry to say that I don't know who ywi are. You must remember that I have only just come to the Towers, and that I have not had time to make acquaintance friends with all my the people." She said this very pleasantly and apologetically, but Kate was not softened. Esther's morning frock, plain though it was, her gauntlet gloves, old though they were, affronted her. Everything about her, simple and neat though it was, seemed to mark the difference between the mistress of Vancourt Towers and herself. " My name is Transom, miss; Kate Transom/' she said. "Kate!" said Esther. "What a pretty name! I wish my godmothers and godfathers, or whoever had the naming of me, had called me Kate. My name is so ugly Esther; .'.': is so hard and unsympathetic. But I suppose we never likj our own names. What a pretty cottage you have!" Kate had gone back to the fire-place and was doing some- thing with the large kettle hanging on the crook. " It is very old," she said, " and the rain comes through the thatch, and when there's a storm the water floods the floor." Her tone was almost sullen, though, at ordinary tunes, Kate was seldom sullen. " Oh, dear!" said Esther, " that must be put right at once. I will speak to Mr. Gordon about it." Kate shot a quick look at her. ** Mr. Fulford, the t steward, generally sees to such things,'* Bhe said. " But it's not often that he troubles." Esther coloured faintly and bit her lip. How was it that she had thought of Mr. Gordon before Mr. Fulford, the proper person? ""Of course!" she said. " I will speak to Mr. Fulford, and it shall be done at once. If I had known, it should have been done before; but I know so little about the estate. You live here with your father and mother?" "With my father, miss," said Kate. " My mother's dead." " I am sorry," said Esther, gently. " Does your father work on the estate?" Kate coloured and turned to the kettle again. " No, miss that is, sometimes. He has only just come from abroad." " And you live here all alone with him?" said Esthei. '' And he k out all day? You most feel very dull sometimes. LOTE, THE TYBAJTT. 123 What pretty flowers yon have in your garden! Are yon fond of them?" " Fond of them? Yes, miss; I suppose so." " Will yon come up to the Towers some day and see the flowers there? Will you come to-morrow? No, not to-mor- row; on Saturday on Saturday afternoon. I shall be at home and will show them to you." " Thank you, miss," replied Kate, coldly. There was silence for a moment or two a silence which Esther found awkward and embarrassing. She wondered why this handsome girl with the bronze-gold hair and the dark brown eyes should be so cold and ungenial; and with a sort of resolve that she would woo her to a pleasanter mood, be- fore she, Esther, went, she sat on, trying to think of some- thing pleasant to say something that would melt this cold and reluctant rustic beauty. If this was the kind of recep- tion she was to get from all her " people," she would not be encouraged to continue her visiting. " I suppose you have very hard winters here?" she said. " Winters?" interrogated Kate. " Oh, yes! they are hard enough, miss. Last winter we had the snow " She stopped as if she were listening, and Esther heard a firm step coming up the garden path. Kate was looking to- wards the door, her pale face colouring, her thick eyebrows moving nervously. Esther looked at her and waited to see what had embarrassed her. A knock sounded at the door, and turning her head, Esther saw Jack Gordon in the door-way. He seemed surprised at seeing her, but was quite self-pos- sessed, and raised his hat to both girls. " Good-morning, Miss Vancourt," he said, still standing in the door-way. " How are you, Miss Transom? None the worse for your accident last night, I hope?" His voice struck a manly note between the two feminine ones. He stood erect as a dart, his handsome face perfectly grave and serene. Kate's had flushed a rosy red, then gone pale; her hand fell on the back of a chair, which she gripped tightly. " I am quite well, thank you, sir," she said. " That's all right," said Jack, with his peculiar drawl. " Good-morning. Good-morning, Miss Vancourt;" and off he went. Esther had Oeen startled by his appearance, and a faint colour had risen to her face. It was there still as she turned a look of inquiry upon Kate. 124 W>VE, THE TYBAOT. " Did yon have an accident yesterday?" sh asked. Kate turned her back and lifted the kettle from its crook. " Yes," she said, reluctantly. " It was nothing much. I was gathering sticks in the spinney. I was on the cutting they'd made for the quarry, and the earth gave way and I fell." " I am so sorry! Did you hurt yourself? How did Mr. Gordon know?" said Esther. " He was down there below me," replied Kate, still reluct- antly . " I wasn't hurt much; but my head struck against something, and I fainted." " Yes?" said Esther, with keen interest Kate made an impatient gesture. " And Mr. Gordon picked me up, and and carried rae to his cottage, and brought me to." Esther, open-eyed and eager, looked at her. " How fortunate for you that he was there! It is just what he would do. You say that he carried you? You must be very heavy." " Yes, he carried me," said Kate, almost sullenly. " He is very strong. I soon came to. I am all right again. It was nothing." Esther rose. " I am so glad," she said. " If Mr. Gordon if no one had been there you might have lain there for ever so long- Are you sure you are quite well? You are looking very pale. May I send you some wine?" The colour flooded Kate's face. " No, thank you, miss," she said. " I don't want any wine. I don't want anything." Esther was frozen by the girl's emphatic refusal. "Very well," she said. "Good-bye. But you will not forget to come up on Saturday to see the flowers." She held out her hand and tried to smile pleasantly; but the girl's manner had made the smile difficult. Kate took the small hand from which Esther had withdrawn its glove, and Esther felt the girl's hand burning hot. CHAPTER XVI. WITH another good-bye she left the cottage. For some reason or other the happiness of the early morning had fled. She felt no inclination to sing now; she pictured Mr. Gordon carrying Kate Transom in his arms to the cottage, and it was net a pleasing picture to her mental vision. How strong he LOVE, THE TYBANT. 125 inust be, for the girl was tall and finely proportioned. She was handsome, too, if not actually beautiful, and, of course, any man would admire her. The girl had flushed when Mr. Gordon had entered: of course she would admire him and be filled with gratitude for his goodness to her. Esther's brows drew straight and a cloud came over her face. If any ona had told her that she was jealous, she would have been ready to slay them in her pride and wrath; and yet why had all her happiness ed, why did the picture of Mr. Gordon carry- ing the girl haunt her so persistently and unpleasantly? While she was asking herself the question, Jack came round the corner. He was coming along with his firm, quick stride, his whip in his hand. He looked exasperatingly handsome and graceful in his new riding suit; and again Esther thought: how could the girl help admiring him? She was about to pass him with a cold bow, but Jack pulled up, and raising his hat said, in his cool, self-possessed way: " When will it be convenient for you to go into accounts with me, Miss Van court; I mean about the money I have spent in London? I have all the receipts, and it won't take five minutes." " Not to-day," said Esther, trying to speak as coldJy as she had bowed. " I am going to lunch at Lord Fan wo * > _'d and I am late already." " Yes?" he said, cheerfully, as if he had not observed her coldness. " It's an hour's drive." " How do you know that?" asked Esther, with some sur- prise. " Oh, every one knows where the Hall is," he said, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. " But you are a stranger here!" argued Esther. " Yes; but I don't walk about with my eyes and ears shut," he remarked in the laconic fashion which so often astonished and nettled her. He was walking beside her as if he had the right to do so. Presently they passed the public-house. Two men were lean- ing against the door Transom and Dick Reeve. Transom touched his cap, then looked down on the ground; Dick Reeve touched his, but in a sullen fashion, and stared at them with a sort of impudent defiance. " Who are those men?" asked Esther. " The elder is Kate Transom's father; the younger is a fel- low called Dick Reeve. A bad lot, I'm afraid; and I suspect the worst poacher in the district; he has gipsy .blood in him, and he is I am told, a desperate rascal. Like all gipsies, ho 126 LOVE, THE TY35AOT. is as cunning as a weasel, and always manages to escape Baynes, the keeper; bat we shall get hold of the fellow some day, I've no doubt." Esther was not in the least interested in the picturesque ruffian; but she was interested iu everybody connected with Kate Transom. " You know the girl whose cottage I have just left, Mr. Gordon?" she asked, with an assumption of indifference, but glancing at him with covert scrutiny. Jack nodded. " Oh, yes," he said, casually, " I've made the acquaint- ance of most of the people, hunting up farm bauds, and so on." " Don't you think she is a very beautiful girl?" asked Esther, with that suave serenity with which a woman masks her intense interest. " Yes, I suppose she is," assented Jack. " Got nice hair and eyes, hasn't she? Haven't noticed her myself particu- larly." I thought you sajd you didn't walk about with yonr eyes shut, Mr. Gordon." Jack laughed at this neat retort. " Oh, they're open enough for anything which interests me or concerns my business," he said. " She isn't any business of mine." " And yet she tells me that you were very kind to her last night," said Esther, with the same deceptive suavity. " Oh, did she? It was nothing to speak of. The poor girl fell over the bank and knocked her head. I couldn't very well leave her in a fainting fit, and so I picked her up and brought her to. Of course she hadn't any right to be there at all, but I understand the people on the estate have always been allowed to gather wood in the woods and spinneys." " Oh, yes yes!" said Esther. " I wouldn't stop it for the world; so don't, please, talk of my duty, Mr. Gordon." She had drawn a breath of relief and the cloud had van- ished from her face; it was bright and smiling as she turned it to him now, and the sudden sunshine on it struck Jack, so that, unconsciously, his eyes dwelt upon her with an admira- tion which she could not fail to feel; for Master Jack's eyes were exceedingly expressive ones, and you could tell in an in- stant, unless he chose to put on his impassive look, whe^'^r he was angry or pleased, admiring or contemptuous. Esther felt the blood rise to her face under his contemplative gaze, and she turned her face away. LOVE, THE TYRANT. 127 "You haven't told me anything about your visit to town," she said, presently, "though I understood you'd had a good time." "Oh, yes," said Jack; and he laughed grimly as he thought of his encounter with the bushranger and his capture of the pocket-book, with its valuable contents, which was locked up in his bag in the cottage. "I was pretty busy all the time, getting the best machinery I could for my money beg pardon, I mean your money ! It will be down to-mor- row or next day, and I hope you'll come and look at it. We shall begin cutting the grass as soon as possible; season's early this year. We shall want all the hands we can get. I suppose you wouldn't condescend to help, Miss Vancourt?" Esther's eyes sparkled. "Of course I will ! Why, it will be delightful ! We must have a hay-party, and a harvest-supper that's the proper thing to do, isn't it, Mr. Gordon?" Jack laughed at her innocence and ignorance as he looked into the grey eyes, glowing like a child's with anticipation. "Oh, that comes later, when we get in the corn," he said, "Yes; we'll have a supper, a regular beano." Esther could not help noticing his masterful tone; but somehow, she did not resent it. She had an uneasy feel- ing that if he had said there should be no supper, indeed, no harvest, there would have been neither. Though she had intended to return by the way she had come, she had mechanically walked beside him toward the home farm. Every now and then Jack stopped to pick some of the wild hyacinths which grew in profusion around them, and by the time they had reached the cottage he had a large bunch of them in his hand. Now, Esther had been watching this flower-gathering with a concealed curiosity and interest. What was he going to do with them ; was he going to offer them to her? If so, ought she to accept them or to feel of- fended at his presumption? When they reached the cottage, Jack stepped in and placed the hyacinths in a jug of water; then he was coming out again, but paused. "I've got all the receipts here, Miss Vancourt," he said, "and the balance of the money ; won't you take them ?" "Couldn't you bring them to the house ?" she asked, coldly ; he had evidently no intention of offering her the flowers; had, as evidently, no idea of common politeness. "Well, I'm very busy," said Jack. "I've been away, know, and every minute's of value to me." 12S IOVE, THE TYRAirr. " Oh, if you insist upon it!" said Esther, a little haughtily; and she stepped inside. Jack drew a chair forward, unlocked his bag and placed the receipts and the money upon the table in the most self- possessed and business-like way. " You'll find an account of my personal expenses, Miss Vancoart," he said. " I hope you won't think them heavy." Esther gathered up the papers and the money, and put them, in the mysterious pocket somewhere behind her. " Aren't you going to look over them?" he asked. " Perhaps I may when I get home," she said, carelessly, " and perhaps I mayn't. I hate accounts; and I am quite sure I can trust you, Mr. Gordon." Her eyes wandered round the room, as Jack turned to lock his bag. She felt a strange interest in everything in it. In the gun standing in the corner, in the pipe and tobacco-pouci) the latter made of some skin which she did not know; but more especially in the axe which hung on the wall, the axe with which she had struck him the blow which he had con- cealed so skilfully from her knowledge; and the thought flashed through her how lonely and solitary a life he spent there, and how the presence of a woman would cheer and brighten it. Perhaps some day he would fall in love perhaps with that girl with the bronze-gold hair? Jack turned from his bag to look at her. " How do you know you can trust me?" he said in his brusque way. " You know nothing about me, and I may be a perfect villain for all you can tell. Don't trust any man until you know him." Now, as he spoke, Esther thought of the two hundred and fifty pounds which she had just sent Mr. Selby Layton: but of course she knew him! " That sound like a copy-book heading, Mr. Gordon," she said. " But I've no doubt you're right, and I'll go over the papers to see that you haven't cheated me. How beautiful those hyacinths are/'she broke off, with a woman's irrelev- ance, and looking at the flowers almost wistfully. " Oh, hyacinths,' are they?" said Jack. " I couldn't think of the name of them. They're for Nettie; she's very fond of them and likes me to take her some every evening when I go to supper." He stretched out his hand, towards the jug as if he were going to take out some of the flowers but his hand stopped half-way and he did not do so. The colour mounted to Esther's face and she bit her lip quickly, and rising suddenly so suddenly that she startled THE TTEAUT. 129 Bob, tvho nad been sitting beside her with his head npoo. her lap -she said, haughtily: " Good-morning, Mr. Gordon!" and swept ont of the cot- tage with her lady-of-the-manor air full on. Jack looked after her with a puzzled expression and tugging at his moustache. " Now, what the Moses offended her, I wonder?" he said to himself. " Something I said, I suppose; but for the life of me, I can't tell; can you, Bob?" Before she had reached the Towers, Esther began to feel ashamed of herself. What right had she to expect him to give her the flowers; and how much less right had she to treat with such scornful hauteur the man who served her so de- votedly and worked so hard in her interest? She told herself that she had behaved like a shop-girl. It was a, strange thing that every time she met Mr. Gordon she " forgot her- self," forgot that she was Miss Vancourt of I he Towers and that he was merely the foreman of her home farm. She re- solved that she would not see him again for some time that she would put so insignificant a person out of her mind. Miss Worcester was ready and waiting, and received her with the look of a deeplv injured person. " The carriage has been waiting some time, my dear Esther," she said; " and I am afraid we shall be late. Where have you been?" " Been doing my duty, aunt," said Esther. " Been play- ing the Lady Bountiful amongst ' my people.' ' She said nothing of her meeting with Mr. Gordon, and she hated herself for not being able to speak of it. Marie and she scrambled on her things, and the two ladies drove to the Hall. Though it was understood that no large party could be asked to meet Miss Vancourt, who was in mourning, the Fan- worths had invited, informally, one or two neighbours to lunch. Of course, they were all very pleasant to Esther. The Towers was the principal place in the county, and she was an heiress possessed of immense wealth; and she was also one of the most beautiful girls in the county. Lord Fan- worth had taken a great liking to ker and made a great deal of her, and, of all the county people she had seen, Esther liked him best. He was a tali and aristocratic-looking old man with iron-grey hair and a close-shaven face which almost always wore a pleasant and genial smile. Lady Fanworth was rather a stately dame who was folly conscious of her position, and had been prepared to patronise the young music-teacher who had stepped into Vancourt Tower* and a huge fortune; bat Esther was not easy te 130 I0VE, THE TYKAOT. patronise, and held her own to a degree which surprised and inwardly discomfited her starchy ladyship. The other visitors were Sir Robert Bruce and his sister, and a Major Long, who had distinguished himself in our last little war. They all paid court to the beautiful Miss Vancourt, and Esther had a very pleasant time of it, and her mind was so occupied with the attentions of her cavaliers that she felt that siie was succeed- jig in forgetting Mr. Gordon. But alas! as she was walking across the lawn with Lord Fan worth, Jack was again brought to her inind. " 1 rode over to the Towers the other day, Miss Vancourt," he said, " but, to my inexpressible disappointment, you were not at home." " Yes, 1 know. I am very sorry," said Esther. " If I had known, I would have remained at home." " That is very sweet of you," he said. " I tried to con- sole m self by riding round your farm you know how keen I am about farming? How very much improved your farm is! I was quite surprised and puzzled " he laughed " for I've known Martin and his way of doing things for many years, until I was told you had got a new foreman during Martin's illness. He must be a splendid fellow, and we must not let him go out of the district. I was told that he was going when Martin got about again. If thac is so, and yoa want to get rid of him and have nothing against him, 1 bhould like to take him on here. He is just the kind of man I want, a man of ideas, and one who evidently knows his business, By the way, they told me his name, but I have forgotten it.*' " His name is Gordon," said Esther, rather coldly. " Ye&, I suppose he will leave when Martin is able to look after the farm. I will tell him that you would like to have him, if you like." " Thank vou very much," said Lord Fanworth. " But if I may be permitted to advise you, I should say that you had better keep him yourself; he must be simply invaluable. " " T believe that he understands his work," saiti Esther, still more coldly so coldly that Lord Fanworth glanced at her curiously, and thought that there was something against the new foreman which she did not like to tell him, and changed the subject. Sir Robert Bruce and the major had joined them and took her away from Lord Fanworth; but though they made them- selves extremely pleasant, and paid her the attentions which were due to so beautiful and wealthy a girl, Esther could not lorget Jack Gordon, who Lord I an worth's innocent words LOVE, THE TYKAOT. 131 had recalled to her mind; and as she drove home, her aunt's comments on the lunch and the people they had met fell upon unlistening ears. " One of the oldest baronetcies in the kingdom the Bruces' my dear Esther. They are descended from the Scotch Bruces. I thought their place, when we called there the other day, was one of the most beautiful I had ever seen." Esther might ha^e said that neither she nor her aunt had seen many, but she refrained. " Sir Robert asked me ever BO many questions about you and your life at the Towers. I think he was interested in you intensely so, if I may say so. He is a very charming man, and is still really quite young. He has not a grey hair, and has that kind of figure which lasts. Major Long, too, seemed particularly struck how well that tailor-made costume becomes you, Esther! They tell me he has a large estate in Yorkshire; and' he is quite famous. He asked me if we should be at home one day next week, and I named Thursday. I suppose I was right; we have no engagement for Thursday?" " No, I think not, aunt," said Esther, absently. " Yes, they were all very kind; but I think I like Lord Fan worth best. He calls me * My dear ' now and then, and it ' kind o* cheers me," as the Americans say." She seemed very listless and thoughtful for the rest of the drive, and listened with deaf ears, as the Spanish say, to her aunt's eulogiums of the people they had just left. So Mr. Gordon meant to leave them? How long would it be before Martin got about again? For tne next two or three days Esther did not leave the boundary of the park, and carefully avoided the home farm. The machinery came down, and Jack Gordon superintended its careful unpacking. He was rather disappointed that Miss Vancourt did not show up to inspect her new purchases; but he had not much time to indulge in disappointment, and he was quite engrossed in the putting together of the machinery which he had bought, and with which he intended to revolu- tionise the coming hay harvest. He was always at work, tramping across the fields with Bob at his heels, overlook! i;g the men and arranging for the cutting of the grass, whicE now swayed knee-deep in the summer breeze. He was so in- terested that at times he forgot that the wide-stretching fields actually belonged to him, and that he was Sir John Vancou-rt, the owner of the Towers and the land over which he rode, that Esther was a usurper. But he had not forgotten that Esther had desired to have 132 I0VE, THE TYBA1TT. what he caued M beano, and the day before tee catting tie sent word up to the Towers by Georgie that flhey were going to do so. Esther simply said, " Very well," and sent the delighted Georgie round to the servants' hall that he might be regaled with the pie and ale which his simple soul loved. She had almost resolved that she would not go down to the home farm and would take no part in the hay harvest; but all the same, she told Marie to look out a white cotton dress and a sun-bonnet for her. She was viewing these with a strange mixture of feeling when Miss Worcester burst in upon her, though " burst in "is scarcely a phrase applicable to Miss Worcester's dignified movements, for that lady always moved with stately precision. " Here is a telegram from Mr. Selby Layton, my dear," she said. " He is coming by this evening's tram. There is just time to meet him." Esther nodded indifferently. She had almost forgotten Mr. Selby Layton; she was engrossed by the thought that for some days how many? she had not seen Mr. Gordon. Selby Layton arrived just in time to dress for dinner; and Esther found him, clad in his immaculate evening attire, in the drawing-room. His manner was, as usual, soft and charming, and he apologised for his visit in well-rehearsed terms. " I have so much to tell you, my dear Miss Vancourt, that I could not write; that I felt that I ought to come down. I trust yon will pardon my presumption?" Esther said that she was glad to see him; and, to a certain extent, she was; for the last few days in which she had not seen Jack Gordon had hung heavily upon her hands. Mr. Selby Layton made himself very pleasant at dinner; he was full of London gossip, which he retailed with the most perfect art; and every now and then Esther found herself listening to him with something like interest. After dinner, he joined them in the drawing-room and sang two or three songs in his sweet, not to say perfect, voice. He had made himself very pleasant, bat he had said nothing of the business which had brought him down. No doubt he was reserving this for the next day. Esther did not mind in the least. He amused her and kept her from thinking of other things. When the ladies had retired for the night, Mr. Selby Lay- ton lit a cigarette and went out on the terrace. It was a bright, moonlight night, aud half absently he went down the steps, crossed the park and entered the wood. A nightingale LOVE, THE TTRAJTT. 133 was, *higi.g bewitchingly; and Selby Layton made hid way amongst the trees in a contemplative mood. Ho was think- ing of the girl who owned all this, and was so absorbed that he went farther than he had intended. Suddenly a sound, the sound of footsteps near him, caused him to stop short. As he did so, a girl stepped cautiously from amongst the trees and stopped, startled and affrighted, in front of him. It was Kate Transom. The moonlight shone full upon her face 5 and its rustic beauty smote Selby La; ton, who was suscepti- ble, very susceptible, to feminine charms. They stood and looked at each other in silence for a mo- ment, then Selby Layton said: " Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Kate's face had flushed crimson, but it was now pale. She stood before him, embarrassed and nervous, and said noth- ing. Selby Layton looked at her with admiration glowing in his eyes. " It's late for a young girl like you to be ot in the woods,'* he said. " What does it mean? What is your mame?" " Kate Kate Transom, sir," she said. " My father** She stopped. " Your father's here, eh?" said Selby Layton. * : Tres- passing poaching, I suppose?" As he spoke, there was a rustle in the brake behind himj but he neither heard it nor saw the figure of Dick Reeve which stole up close beside them with his gun hi his hand. Kate clasped her hands. *' Don't tell on them, sir!" she said. " I'm afraid my father's here but I'm not sure." Selby Layton took a step towards her and got hold cf her hand. ' 'Don't be frightened," he said, " I am not going to tell. What a pretty girl you are! You ought not to be here, at alone at this time of night. Come, give me a kiss and I'll see you home!" He drew her towaru him, and Dick Reeve raised his gua to his shoulder; but he lowered it, as Kate, with a !e>w cry, hrcke from Selby Layton and was lost in the wood. CHAPTER XVII WHEN" Kate broke away from Selby Layton she set of? run- '-ing; but presently, when she found that he had not pursued her, she slackened her pace and went on snore slowly. Her teart was beating fast, but with, indignation rather tiiaa fear. 134 KJ7E, THE TYBAUT. and the hot blood came atid went in her pale face, and her eyes flashed. No one had ever dared to speak to her as this gentleman had done, and all the girl's maiden pride was outraged and in arms. She had nearly gained the edge of the wood when she heard footsteps. Her hand flew to her heart, and she stepped be- hind a tree to conceal herself; but concealment was difficult from the man who was now approaching tier; for it was Jack Gordon, and he had seen her and tracked her easily. He had his gun over his arm, and Bob was following at his heels. The head keeper had been discharged, and during the interregnum, between his going and the new man's coming, Jack sometimes took a stroll through the woods, doing ama- teur keeper's work. He raised his hat and said " Good- evening, Miss Transom," even before he came up to the tree. Kate stepped out and faltered a response, and Jack saw that she was trembling and that the hand against her bosom was clenched tightly as she stood with downcast eyes before him. " Is anything the matter?" he asked in a kindly way. " N-o," she faltered. " I came into the woods because I was afraid my father Have you seen him?" Jack understood. " It's all right," he said. " I saw him going down the street just nw." He did not say " going into the inn." She drew a breath of relief and pushed the thick hair from her forehead with a weary little gesture. " I am glad," she said in a low voice. " I am always afraid he will break his promise, that he will forget } our kindness and get into trouble." " I think he'll keep his promise," said Jack. " There has not been so much poaching lately, I think; they know I'm keeping a sharp lookout. You didn't sse any one in the wo-yds?" Her face flushed, and she turned her head aside as she shuok it. With a- murmured " Good-night, Mr. Gordon," she was leaving him, when an owl flew screeching from a tree, and, with a cry, she started back. Jack saw that she was nervous and overstrained, and he said: " I'm guing back, and will pro wiih you if you'll allow me." She shot a grateful glance at him from her superb eyes, T33 TYRASTT, 135 they walked together through the remainder of the wood, tm?-. by one of the gates on to the high road. Jack said very cie just farmer-talk about the crops and the coming harvest and she only replied in monosyllables; but she was drinking in every word he said, and his deep voice was like music in her ears. As they passed through the gate, a man and woman came along the path; they were Marie Esther's maid and Giles, who were " keeping company " and had been out for a lover's stroll. Gilos touched his cap and gave Jack " Good-evening, sir/* and Jack said, " Good-evening, Giles. Fine night!" in his frank and genial way; but Kate coloured deeply and shrank back; and with a hurried " Thank you, sir. I can go alone now. Good-night!" walked away from him quickly. '* Who was that with Mr. Gordon?" asked Marie, as she and Giles passed them. " Wasn't it Elate Transom?" " Yes," said Giles. " Old Transom's daughter." " Oh," said Marie, " I didn't know they were keeping eompanv." " Are they?" said Giles. M'irie laughed. " Why, aren't they out walking together, and they've just come from the woods, too! If they ain't keeping company they ought to be. Some persons think she's rather good- looking," she added, with an air of critical fairness; " but I don't admire red hair myself." " No more do I," said Giles: Marie's hair was dark. Kate almost ran the rest of the way, entered the cottage, and sank into a chair. The colour was still going and com- ing in her face, and there was a dreamy look in her large eyes. Mr. Gordon had evidently not minded in the least being seen alone with her at that time of night, had thought nothing of it; but Kate knew what would be thought and eaid by those who had seen them, and her heart beat with mingled apprehension and pleasure. Ever since the day she ^ 1 first seen Mr. Gordon, a change had been coming over eren tenor of her life. Like Esther, the mistress of the i'owers, Kate Transom, the labourer's daughter, could think of little else but him, and Fate had so willed it that almost every time she met him, accident had forced him to play the part of protector and friend. He had spared her father, yield- ing to her entreaties; he had rescued her when she had fallen from the bank hi the spinney; to-night he had walked ^th her because she was alone and nervous, and always he had fcer with a gentleness and courtesy as novel as they 1?6 ifcYB, THE TYHANT. were fascinating. She was only a labourer's daughter, bst from the very first she had noticed the difference between him and the other mea om the estate, and, while she appreciated it, it troubled her and made her unhappy. He was only the foreman of the farm, and yet he was so high above her; ho looked and spoke like one of the gentry, and even the proud Miss Vancourt was not too proud to walk and talk with him. Wii;h her head resting on her hand she dwelt upon every look of his, every word he had spoken to her: and they all amounted to so little! Just commonplace words of kindness and courtesy, such as a gentleman would speak to a poor and humble girl like herself. He had never even looked at her admiringly, as most of the young men did. Supposing he had taken hold of her and spoken to her as the gentleman in the wood had done that night, would she have been angry, indignant, and have broken away from him? As she asked herself the question, the passion welled up in her heart, and she hid her crimson face with her arm; for she knew that she would not have been able to fly, that she would have sunk into his arms, would have been helpless to conceai ker love, and only too glad to avow it. The door opened and her father lurched in. He had been irinking, but was not drunk, and he took a bottle of spirits from his pocket and placed it on the table. A man in his position only purchases whiskey for home consumption when he is flush of money; and Kate, who knew that he had done ao work for some time past, guessed where the money came from. Thougk he himself might not be poaching, he was sharing in the spoil got by others. She knew that Dick Eeeve would give her father money because she was his daughter. " Hallo, Kate, my girl, where have you been?" he asked. " Give me a drop f water; I'll take it hot." Kate got the water in silence, for she knew it was useless to remonstrate. " Won't you kave some supper, father?" she asked, pres- ently, and she put some bread and cheese upon the table. He looked at it and shook his head indifferently. " Don't famcy bread and cheese," he said. "It's poor kind of tackle for a man as has been used to a joint of meat three times a day. Seems to me England's a played out country, and a man's as likely to starve as not here. Austra- lia's the place; there's plenty for everybody there." " Why did you come back then, father?" she asked. " Why didn't you stay there and send for me? I might have been a help to you." LOVE, THE TYRANT. 137 transom shot a half suspicious glance at her, then langhed rather uneasily. " I came back because well, because perhaps I was tired of it," he said. " And you couldn't have helped me ia the tha job I was doing there; but, all the same, I wish I was back there." He mixed himself another glass and sat smok- ing moodily. " Why don't you get some work here, father?" Kate asked. " I know that that Mr. Gordon wants some hands, and if you were to speak to him he might employ you." She had, turned away to the dresser as she spoke, and her face flushed as she pronounced Jack's name. Transom took the short black pipe from his mouth and looked at her sideways and sharply. " Oh, would he?" he said. " Yes, perhaps he would give me a job; but a pretty hard job it would be; hoeing or ditch- ing; twelve hours a day, and two shillings at the end of it. No, my gal, T fancy I know a better trick than that." He chuckled and shook his head with an air of tipsy cunning. " Perhaps I know a thing or two as I can make money on; but I'm biding my time. Biding my time, that's what I am." " What do you mean, father?" she asked: for a certain significance in his tone and manner arrested her attention. Transom laughed to himself. " Never you mind, Kate, my gal," he said, with a hic- cough. " I know what I know; but I can keep my mouth shut, and I mean to keep it shut till the proper time for opening it; then I'll open it wide enough for certain," " Do you mean that you know something about Mr. Gor- don?" she asked, growing pale. Transom looked up at her sharply and suspiciously. " Who said anything about Mr. Gordon," he said, thickly. " I didn't mention no names; I've never opened my lips to a living soul, and i don't moan to. 1 know better. And what's more, my gal, don't you try to drive me into a corner. You think yourself mighty clever, I daresay; but you won't get anv thing out of me for ail your artfulness." " Father!" cried Kate, reproachfully, " I only asked the question you had been speaking of Mr. Gordon " Transom rose unsteadily and glared at her angrily. a lie," he said. " I never said anything about* him; T --over mentioned his name; I never said I knew him, ani 't you try ami fiz it on me! You take my advice 138 LOVE; THE TYRANT. leave me alone: I'm not a badger to be drawn by my ewn i t * * gal!' He sank into his chair, clutching at his glass, and con- tinued to mutter tp himself moodily, until he fell into the heavy doze of intoxication; and Kate went up to her room full of strange forebodings. CHAPTER XVIII. THE moment after Kate had left him, Selby Lay ton knew that he had made a mistake. He was one of those men who cam never resist a temptation to force their attentions upon any pretty girl, inferior to themselves in position, whom they may meet; but though he was a blackguard at heart, he was too cunning not to know that he had acted unwisely. He was playing a difficult game and how dangerous a one only he knew and a flirtation with the daughter of one of Esther's labourers would certainly not help him to win Esther herself and the Vancourt property. The moonlight had shown him that the girl was extremely handsome, and if his hands had not been quite so full, he would have regarded her as legiti- mate prey; but he felt that he had made a great mistake in addre.? 'n<* her, and he trusted devoutly that she would not recognise him agaim. The more he thought of it, the more annoyed he was with himself; for he felt that everything vras going swimmingly with him. Esther had evidently been glad to see him;j3he had extended a very friendly welcome, was grateful for what she supposed he had done for her, and haa sat beside the piano and listened to him with rapt attention as he sang song after song with that wonderful voice of his, and he felt that he was well on the way to the winning-post. A French philosopher has said that any man can gain the love of any woman if he be persistent enough and unflagging in his devotion, if her heart be not already engaged; and Selby Layton had no reason to suppose that Esther was not fancy free. Had there been any one in the field before him, he, Selby Layton, must have known it. No; the field was open to him; and he knew that he had many points in his favour. He was good-looking, had what women call a charm- ing manner, and, more than all else, possessed a wonderful voice which made it difficult for a woman to withstand him. Often at crowded receptions he had drawn a crowd of wor- shipping women from the poldier, the poet, the statesman of the hoar- had drawn them to the piano as by a magnet A I0VB, THE TYRAJTE, Io9 beautiful voice is always spoken of as a gift from Heaven ; but the devil has a knack of wresting it to his own uses. As he strolled back to the house, Selby Layton looked up at the vast pile of buildings towering in stately fashion above the lawn, aiid his heart beat with the desire of possession, and his eyes glistened as he thought how delightful it would be to be master of Vancourt Towers the principal place in the county and of all the advantages accruing to that im- portant position; and he resolved to continue the game, dan- gerous though it was, and notwithstanding that since the visit of Denzil he had once or twice quailed before the risks which he must incur in his enterprise. He did not see Esther again that night, but the nexf morn- ing, after breakfast, he asked her if she would give him a few minutes in the library, and Esther at once complied, though with no great eagerness; for she was feeling rather absent- minded that morning. For some days she had not been near the home farm nor seen Mr. Gordon. As she stood by the open window of the library she could just hear the rattle and click of the hay- making machine and could smell the scent of the new mown b.ay from the meadows in the distance. She had promised to fo to the hay-inaking supper, and had got out the cotton ress as being suitable to the occasion; but all the same, she was not obliged to go unless she liked. But she felt thai she did like, that it was just what she wanted to do. She wanted