adventurous character are likely to lead him, I have authority to declare that he will be Sir George Hamilton no longer. The earl’s patent is already made out, which any moment he pleases may be swallowed at a gulp, for digestion at his leisure. I have said my say; I have made a clean breast of it; send for Slap-Jack and your venerable butler; put me in irons; hand me over to your municipal authorities, if you have any, and let them drag me to prison; but give me another glass of that excellent claret first, for my throat is dry with so much talking!” Sir George laughed and complied. “You are a plausible advocate, Florian,” he observed, after a moment’s thought, “and your powers of argument are little inferior to your skill in fence. But this is a lee-shore, my good friend, to which you are driving, a lee-shore with bad anchorage, shoal water, and thick weather all round. I like to keep the lead going on such a course, and only to carry sail enough for steerage-way. As far as I am concerned, I should wish to see them ‘box it about’ a little longer, before I made up my mind how the game would go!” “That is not like _you_!” exclaimed the Jesuit hotly. “The Hamiltons have never yet waited to draw till they knew which was the winning side.” “No man shall say that of me,” answered the other, in a stern, almost an angry tone, and for a space, the two old comrades sat sipping their wine in silence. Sir George had spoken the truth when he said that a full man is willing to sit still—at least as far as his own inclinations were concerned. He had nothing to gain by a change, and everything to lose, should that change leave him on the beaten side. Moreover, he relished the advantages of his present position far more than had he been born with the silver spoon in his mouth. Then, perhaps, he would have depreciated the luxury of plate and believed that the pewter he had not tried might be equally agreeable. People who have never been really hungry hardly understand the merits of a good dinner. You must sleep on the bare ground for a week or two before you know the value of sheets and blankets and a warm soft bed. Sir George had got into safe anchorage now, and it required a strong temptation to lure him out to sea again. True, the man’s habits were those of an adventurer. He had led a life of action from the day he first accompanied his father across the Channel in an open boat, at six years old, till he found himself a prosperous, wealthy, disengaged country gentleman at Hamilton Hill. He might grow tired of that respectable position—it was very likely he would—but not yet. The novelty was still pleasant; the ease, the leisure, the security, the freedom from anxiety, were delightful to a man who had never before been “off duty,” so to speak, in his life. Then he enjoyed above all things the field sports of the wild country in which he lived. His hawks were the best within a hundred miles. His hounds, hardy, rough, steady, and untiring, would