"Something seems to be going on there," Percy remarked. "A fine old house! Who does it belong to?" Bervie smiled. "It belongs to my father," he said. "He is chairman of the bench of local magistrates, and he receives his brother justices to-day, to celebrate the opening of the sessions." He stopped and looked at Percy with some embarrassment. "I am afraid I have surprised and disappointed you," he resumed, abruptly changing the subject. "I told you when we met just now at Mr. Bowmore's cottage that I had something to say to you; and I have not yet said it. The truth is, I don't feel sure whether I have been long enough your friend to take the liberty of advising you." "Whatever your advice is," Percy answered, "trust me to take it kindly on my side." Thus encouraged, the Captain spoke out. "You will probably pass much of your time at the cottage," he began, "and you will be thrown a great deal into Mr. Bowmore's society. I have known him for many years. Speaking from that knowledge, I most seriously warn you against him as a thoroughly unprincipled and thoroughly dangerous man." This was strong language--and, naturally enough, Percy said so. The Captain justified his language. "Without alluding to Mr. Bowmore's politics," he went on, "I can tell you that the motive of everything he says and does is vanity. To the gratification of that one passion he would sacrifice you or me, his wife or his daughter, without hesitation and without remorse. His one desire is to get into Parliament. You are wealthy, and you can help him. He will leave no effort untried to reach that end; and, if he gets you into political difficulties, he will desert you without scruple." Percy made a last effort to take Mr. Bowmore's part--for the one irresistible reason that he was Charlotte's father. "Pray don't think I am unworthy of your kind interest in my welfare," he pleaded. "Can you tell me of any _facts_ which justify what you have just said?"