The fact was, that Johnston, seeing a good opportunity, in the mishap which had befallen him, of being revenged on Roy and his master, and withal extracting from the latter's pocket considerable compensation, had complained to his employer in the first instance. But to his surprise the General curtly and fiercely refused to listen to him, and the man, seeing that another word on the subject would gravely imperil his place, and not to be baulked, resolved to bring an action for damages against the dethroned heir. Sophie plied her needle thoughtfully for a few moments. Then she looked up. "Eusty, does Ro--er--Mr Dorrien, say anything about coming back?" "N-no. He's sure to be back though, soon. But, I say, you'd better apply to Olive for information on that score." The girl shook her golden head sadly. "Eusty, can you keep a secret? Because, if you can--I'll tell you one. Well then, I think there's something wrong--in the first place, from odds and ends I've heard out of doors, in the next--er--well--one needn't look far from home. And dad had a letter from Mr Dorrien this morning, and how awfully quiet he was all breakfast time?" "There was a deuce of a row between Dorrien and his cantankerous old reprobate of an ancestor--he let out as much as that to me," said Eustace. "Poor old chap--I hope he'll turn up again soon." "So do I," echoed the girl. "We don't see many nice people here--at least not nice men--and he always was such fun." "Rather. Especially when you got him quietly over a weed. The quaint, dry sentiments of the fellow were enough to make a cat perish with laughter. Poor old Dorrien! I hope we shall soon have him back as jolly as ever. Hallo!--By George, there's that rascal Johnston himself. Seedy looking cad with him--perhaps an attorney." They peered through the thick foliage of the arbour, and approaching from the other end of the gravel walk was the Cranston gardener and his companion, whom a servant was apparently directing towards their retreat. "By Jove!" chuckled Eustace. "Now for some fun. Tell you what, Sophie. I'll read them Dorrien's postscript." "Better not," objected his more prudent sister. "No, dear, don't. There'd only be a row, and I'm so frightened of rows." "Pooh! I'd chuck the pair of 'em through the hedge." "And they'd summon you, and dad would be annoyed, and there'd be no end of bother. Now, Eusty, be a good boy, won't you, and--" But she had no time for further remonstrance, for the two men had by this time reached the arbour, and stood looking sheepish and awkward, as if each expected the other to begin. "Ah! good day, Johnston. Anything I can do for you? But--who's your friend?" said Eustace with a careless nod. "I ask yer pardon, sir, and the young leddy's, for intruding, but I thought ye might a' heard from Mr Roland. And ye said if ye did ye'd kindly let me know." This was a fact. Eustace, intending to "draw" the Scot, had promised him that much. "Yes?"