The butler frowned severely upon me now, for he had been standing in the doorway with the curaçoa when I was addressing the meeting, no doubt sympathising keenly with Mr Beevy (I found out afterwards that Lady Broadhem was educating his son for the "work"), and said to Broadhem, "Does her ladyship know you are going away, my lord?" "No," said Broadhem, with some hesitation; "I don't think she does. I am coming back again soon." "I think, my lord, I shall have to let her ladyship know--perhaps your lordship will wait. James, mind the door." This meant that James was not to open it. "Stop, my friend," I said; "your conscience tells you that you should not be a party to this irregularity on the part of his lordship,--is not that so?" I asked. "Yes, my lord," said the butler, rigidly. "I will accompany you to Lady Broadhem, then, to explain the circumstances. Be good enough to follow me," and I led the way up-stairs. Now it so happens that I have a remarkable faculty of remembering faces, and I had been conscious for some weeks past of being familiar with the particularly ill-favoured countenance of Lady Broadhem's butler; but it was not until now that the circumstances under which I had first seen it flashed upon me. Not many years have elapsed since I achieved considerable renown in Australia as an amateur hunter of bushrangers. The sport exhilarated me, combining, as it did, an exciting physical with a wholesome moral exercise. I now remembered distinctly having caught Lady Broadhem's butler with a lasso. Indeed I had good reason not to forget it, for a shot he fired at me at the moment killed my favourite horse. That he should have failed to recognise in Lord Frank Vanecourt the notorious Mr Francis who had been the means of capturing not only himself, but a good many of his fraternity, was not wonderful. The discovery tickled me, and restored my good temper, which had been slightly ruffled. "What a delightful change you must find it to be in the society of all these good people after having passed so many years in the bush!" I said, and my tone of anger suddenly became one of easy familiarity, as I turned sharply upon him, and, leaning against the banisters, benevolently scanned his distorted physiognomy. The play of his facial muscles, and changes of hue, interested me, so I continued--"But I will venture to say that you have never since paid such attention to any sermon as you did to mine that Sunday morning when I had you and your seven friends strapped to eight trees in a semicircle, and concluded my remarks, you may remember, with a few strokes of 'practical application.' I should like to hear the story of your escape from prison."