“That 's something new to me, I must own,” said Beecher, thoughtfully; but Conway paid no attention to the remark. “My notion is this,” said Beecher, after a pause,--“do what you will, say what you will, the world won't play fair with you!” Conway shook his head dissentingly, but made no reply, and another and a longer silence ensued. “You don't know my brother Lackington?” said Beecher, at length. “No. I have met him in the world and at clubs, but don't know him.” “I 'll engage, however, you 've always heard him called a clever fellow, a regular sharp fellow, and all that, just because he's the Viscount; but he is, without exception, the greatest flat going,--never saw his way to a good thing yet, and if you told him of one, was sure to spoil it. I 'm going over to see him now,” added he, after a pause. “He 's at Rome, I think, the newspapers say?” “Yes, he's stopping there for the winter.” Another pause followed, and Beecher threw away the end of his cigar, and, sticking an unlighted one in his mouth, walked the deck in deep deliberation. “I 'd like to put a case to you for your opinion,” said he, as though screwing himself to a great effort. “If you stood next to a good fortune,--next in reversion, I mean,--and that there was a threat--just a threat, and no more--of a suit to contest your right, would you accept of a life interest in the property to avoid all litigation, and secure a handsome income for your own time?” “You put the case too vaguely. First of all, a mere threat would not drive me to a compromise.” “Well, call it more than a threat; say that actual proceedings had been taken,--not that I believe they have; but just say so.” “The matter is too complicated for my mere Yes or No to meet it; but on the simple question of whether I should compromise a case of that nature, I'd say No. I'd not surrender my right if I had one, and I 'd not retain possession of that which did n't belong to me.” “Which means, that you 'd reject the offer of a life interest?” “Yes, on the terms you mention.” “I believe you 're right. Put the bold face on, and stand the battle. Now the real case is this. My brother Lack-ington has just been served with notice--” Just as Beecher had uttered the last word, his arm, which rested on the binnacle against which he was standing, was grasped with such force that he almost cried out with the pain, and at the same instant a muttered curse fell upon his ear. “Go on,” said Conway, as he waited to hear more. Beecher muttered some unintelligible words about feeling suddenly chilled, and “wanting a little brandy,” and disappeared down the stairs to the cabin.