might have happened. He felt a thrill of disgust through him as he thought of Walter Nugent. Himself gentle to the uttermost, a lover of all things that live, a chivalrous servant of ladies, their knightly defender, this sudden discovery of Walter Nugent's character prostrated him.

But the Squire consoled him.

"The fellow is mad, my dear friend. He has had a sunstroke somewhere or slept on deck under a full moon. Had he been sane, he could not have calculated on keeping little Louisa a prisoner. He's away by this time;. he'll clear his vexed brain by wandering over the sea; he'll come back some day in his right mind, and married to the queen of some undiscovered island. I know these I know these young fools: they have a delirious moment, and are ashamed of it ever after."

"I wish I could believe all that," said Willie, mournfully.

"Believe it? By all means believe. Some

where in my library-but I haven't seen it for some years—there is a tall black-letter folioJohannes Erigena Anglicus de puerorum ac puellarum deliriis incomprehensibilibus. It is charming to read, and most scientific. I'll have it looked up, and send it you."

It is to be feared this rare volume had been stolen, since it never reached Musical Willie.

"We'll have our picnic to-morrow," said the Squire, "and you shall ramble over the old house, and forget your trivial trouble, and sing us a song on the beach. All has gone well-and I shall give Donald a gold watch."

"Ah," said Willie, "from what that scamp said to me, I thought Miss Silvia liked him, and that you might perhaps consent."

"I'd give Silvia to any man she loved," said the Squire, "he being a gentleman in the true sense. But Silvia has assured me she hates Walter Nugent, only he had a strange persuasive way with him. She's young enough

yet; she need not die a maiden lady, to quote your capital song."

So it was arranged there should be a picnic next day, and everybody interested should go, and that hampers should not be forgotten, and that the panther should be brought back to be stuffed for Louisa's bedchamber. By the way, it has been omitted to state that the islet is marked on the map Seamew Island.

CHAPTER XIX.

As

THE PICNIC AT SEAMEW ISLAND.

"I do remember an apothecary."

S this rather original picnic party were starting from Silchester, Dr. Sterne suddenly appeared. He had been away at York for some time, in consequence of his father's death-his father having been a famous ornithologist, who could climb a tree for a bird's nest at seventy. When the Doctor reached his home late on the evening before, he got from his old housekeeper rapid though vague intelligence of all that had happened. He walked up to the Squire's as soon as he had refreshed himself, and found admission,

though it was just midnight. But in truth the eventful movement of affairs rendered sleep difficult, and the Squire kept quite dissipated hours, and the parson and his niece, having dined at Silchester, seemed loth to go away.

The party sat in a room known as the Walnut Room, by reason of its wainscoat of choice old Spanish walnut. The panels, carved by Grinling Gibbons, were painted with groups of dead game. The only separate picture was a portrait of the Squire's father in his later time, done by the greatest of all England's portrait-painters. The Doctor, suddenly shown in, saw the Squire and Parson on adjacent seats talking classically-and Silvia Silvester, a blue maiden, on a stool at her father's knee -and Silvester and Louisa on a sofa together, having a quiet little lovers' quarrel—and Mrs. Silchester in her great red easy chair, knitting something in soft wool with exquisite equanimity. If the Archangel Israfel were blowing