‘Old men take strange whims,’ he communed with himself, though without unclosing his thin lips even on that lonesome crag. ‘But then I have nothing to fear, being the only living kinsman of my worthy uncle, whose conscientious rectitude would never allow him to play false with his lawful heir, especially when that heir has been so dutiful!’—this was a favourite joke, and his lips curved slightly. ‘But for that cursed bungler Cestus, I might have been at this present hour in the serene enjoyment of my rights, instead of biting my nails in a daily worry. Well, at least, it afforded one happy stroke of genius, which rid me, at a single thrust, of a cunning beast, whose knowledge has robbed me of at least five years of my life on the score of anxiety. _Euge_, it was well done! and it was a deed which had to be faced, sooner or later, for it was impossible that both could live without something of the kind happening. Let me be thankful; for if the ill performance of the business of that night led to confusion in one way, it led to an unpremeditated conclusion in another, equally as good. I am rid of the past—it concerns me no more; but of the future—pah, it worries! I am too scrupulous, too patient, too long‐ suffering! There are more obvious affairs bungled through and winked at in Rome every day. Meanwhile, I must watch my gay young Centurion, and do him a good turn at the first chance I have.’ These and a hundred other thoughts floated through the brain of the knight; when, as he sat, a coasting vessel, which had been approaching from the northward, attracted his attention. It came on, running before the wind, with its large square sail set full; but, from the great elevation at which the knight sat, it looked like a small insect struggling through the waves. He regarded it in a listless kind of way as it went by through the straits between the island and the mainland, but, when he saw it heave up in the wind, as if to bring to under the lee of the southern side of the island, he increased his attention to its movements at the expense of his meditations. The well‐braced up sail of the galley began to shake and flap as it lost the wind under the cliffs, and it was then hauled down and the sweeps run out. The vessel, whatever its business, was, therefore, bent on making a port on the south side of the island. This was calculated to increase curiosity, inasmuch as it had passed the northern and customary landing‐place, to, apparently, make use of the other, which was comparatively unused, and, in the present case, more undesirable in every way. At this moment, as he was trying to account for the cause, he heard the sound of voices approaching. Glancing round the corner of the large boulder which formed his shelter, he perceived two men hurrying from the direction of the villa, previously described, toward the south. One he intuitively recognised as Martialis, our Centurion, of whom his thoughts were so unpleasantly full.