to my oilskin jacket, and I kept my hand there too, closed upon it and ready. Then I advanced. "Is that you, Mr Merton?" said a voice I knew. "It is, Mr Rendall," I answered drily. "Did you see anybody?" "No," I answered truthfully. "We thought we heard a ory," said Miss Jean. "I may have startled a seagull," I suggested; and then I asked with a sharpness in my voice I could not quite control, "Where did Mr Rendall spring from?" "I told you I thought we should meet him," she answered, with a cool note in her voice that countered mine. "What a courious chance that we should all meet here!" I exclaimed. "It is precisely what I expeoted," said she. "Did you think, then, it was Mr Rendall down among the rooks?" I inquired. "No," she said, "and it wasn't." "Oh," I replied in a tone which (if I achieved my intention) might have meant anything-or nothing. Her father had been standing perfectly silent during this bout, a towering figure muffled in a heavy ulster and searf, with the rim of his hat turned down over his face. Now he spoke in his dry caustic way. "Have you had enough exercise, Mr Merton?" "Quite, thank you." He turned, and his daughter took his arm. I walked behind them-it seemed on the whole safer and I kept my hand in my pocket all the while. I had seen no one, it is true; I had heard no sound that could be sworn to as made by a human being; the thing I saw so dimly might possibly not have been lethal weapon (and if it was a weapon, what in heaven's name could it be? I wondered); it might conceivably have been a large bird some distance off, just as by a reverse illusion men are said to have fired at bumble-bees when grouse - driving. it was within the bounds of possibility that the tinkling stones might not have been thrown down by some one above in order to draw me under that face. Everything had been so vague that all these alternatives were conceivable. Also, But my own mind was quite and finally determined now that my adventure with the stranger on the shore had been no figment of my fancy, and I felt sure, moreover, that they had made up their minds about me and decided to act. How and why they had come to such a definite conclusion, despite all my efforts to mislead them, beat me at first completely. And then I stopped short, and almost shouted "Idiot!" I had addressed Miss Rendall at her own door in a "Then we can all go back German accent. Then I had together." abruptly dropped it, "Hang it, I may be wrong after all!" I said to myself. "I know I'm young: I am through all my deliberate sort, and murderous traitors mystifications one fact had too. been clear-that I spoke in the accents of an ordinary more or less educated Englishman. The Rendalls clearly told I'm rash; I have made had the material for coming to a conclusion, and now in their company I had all but ended my days on earth. a fool of myself periodically as long as I've known myself. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt a little longer." Yet somehow or other, now At the door Mr Rendall that I saw all this so clearly, left us to resume his conI found myself singularly re- soientious patrol. I said a luctant to accept the logical brief and cool good-night to conclusion that this gentle- Jean, went up to my room, man of good lineage and and tumbled straight into standing, and this attractive bed. high-spirited girl, were actually traitors of the basest "In the morning I'll think things over," I decided. (To be continued.) REMINISCENCES of those days "in the distance enchanted never come in an orderly procession according to the original sequence of events. Some, for reasons quite inexplicable, jostle their way to the fore readily enough. Others, dim and elusive, hover in the back ground, and only respond to the lure of firelight and tobacco smoke ascending incense wise from the depths of the armohair. Sooner or later, though, they can all be caught and held for the moment needed to record them. The difficulty is to know where to start. . . . ... Harker is foremost among the "thrusters" in the surging orowd of memories of the old Britannia days. Harker, with his piercing, rather melancholy eyes, his black beard and tattooed wrists, and his air of implacable ferocity that for months succeeded in eoncealing from his term a heart as tender as a woman's, His name was not actually Harker, of course; but he is probably still alive, and even retired chief petty officers of the Royal Navy have their susceptibilities. He was a term C.P.O.- mentor, wet-nurse, "sea-daddy," the outward and visible embodiment of Naval Discipline to sixty-odd Naval Cadets who yesterday were raw schoolboys and to-day wear the King's uniform and eke brass buttons-a transi tion unhinging enough to more matured souls than those of his charges. How he succeeded in conveying within the space of the first evening the exceedingly unfamiliar routine of trainingship life, the art of turning into a hammock, the necessity for keeping their chests looked, the majesty of the term lieutenant, and the omnipotence of the chief cadet captains, to sixty bewildered fifteen-yearolds, only he knows. Yet he harried none; they were conscious of him as & flook of disconcerted sheep are aware of a wise collie. His voice was never still: it was to be presumed that he slept at some mysterious time during the twenty-four hours, and yet his square compact form seemed to be always drifting about at all hours of the day and night. Even when a hapless wight (in the throes of nightmare) tipped bodily out of his hammock on to the deck during the first night, it was Harker who appeared noiselessly out of the shadows to tuck him in again. Their names he had pat within twenty-four hours; this tightened his grip of the term instantly, but it also caused him to be regarded as scarcely canny. Indeed it was disconcerting enough to regard yourself one moment as an insignificant and unknown unit among 250 others, and in this through all my deliberate sort, and murderous traitors mystifications one fact had too. been clear-that I spoke in the accents of an ordinary more or less educated Englishman. The Rendalls clearly had the material for coming to a conclusion, and now in their company I had all but ended my days on earth. Yet somehow or other, now that I saw all this so clearly, I found myself singularly reluctant to accept the logical conclusion that this gentleman of good lineage and standing, and this attractive high-spirited girl, were actually traitors of the basest "Hang it, I may be wrong after all!" I said to myself. "I know I'm young: I am told I'm rash; I have made a fool of myself periodically as long as I've known myself. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt a little longer." At the door Mr Rendall left us to resume his conscientious patrol. I said a brief and cool good-night to Jean, went up to my room, and tumbled straight into bed. "In the morning I'll think things over," I decided. (To be continued.) "USQUE AB OVO." BY "BARTIMEUS.” REMINISCENCES of those days "in the distance enchanted never come in an orderly procession according to the original sequence of events. Some, for reasons quite inexplicable, jostle their way to the fore readily enough. Others, dim and elusive, hover in the background, and only respond to the lure of firelight and tobacco smoke ascending incense wise from the depths of the armchair. Sooner or later, though, they can all be caught and held for the moment needed to record them. The difficulty is to know where to start. ... Harker is foremost among the "thrusters" in the surging orowd of memories of the old Britannia days. Harker, with his piercing, rather melancholy eyes, his black beard and tattooed wrists, and his air of implacable ferocity that for months succeeded in eoncealing from his term a heart as tender as a woman's, His name was not actually Harker, of course; but he is probably still alive, and even retired chief petty officers of the Royal Navy have their susceptibilities. He was a term C.P.O.- mentor, wet-nurse, "sea-daddy," the outward and visible embodiment of Naval Discipline to sixty-odd Naval Cadets who yesterday were raw schoolboys and to-day wear the King's uniform and eke brass buttons-a transi tion unhinging enough to more matured souls than those of his charges. How he succeeded in conveying within the space of the first evening the exceedingly unfamiliar routine of trainingship life, the art of turning into a hammock, the necessity for keeping their chests looked, the majesty of the term lieutenant, and the omnipotence of the chief cadet captains, to sixty bewildered fifteen-yearolds, only he knows. Yet he harried none; they were conscious of him as flock of disconcerted sheep are aware of a wise collie. His voice was never still: it was to be presumed that he slept at some mysterious time during the twenty-four hours, and yet his square compact form seemed to be always drifting about at all hours of the day and night. Even when a hapless wight (in the throes of nightmare) tipped bodily out of his hammock on to the deck during the first night, it was Harker who appeared noiselessly out of the shadows to tuck him in again. Their names he had pat within twenty-four hours; this tightened his grip of the term instantly, but it also caused him to be regarded as scarcely canny. Indeed it was disconcerting enough to regard yourself one moment as an insignificant and unknown unit among 250 others, and in this |