"I am glad that you agree with the newspaper," said the Duke blandly. "I read that paragraph at breakfast yesterday, and since then I have learnt that Lord Roker's subscription is due. It seems to me more than a coincidence that these two matters should come together. It is a national disgrace that the manuscript of that remarkable, I believe unparalleled--er--effort of Mr. Bunyan should leave the country. For one night longer, at any rate, it must remain in the possession of Englishmen. My lord of Roker, you will kindly produce the Bunyan MS. at our next meeting, on the 23rd inst., in settlement of your subscription." At 5 p.m. on Monday, April 18th last, a new arrival registered himself in the visitors' book at the Ilkley Hydropathic Establishment as James Roker, Jermyn Street, S.W. He was a good-looking, straight-built man of thirty or thereabouts. He was of an unobtrusive disposition, but was obviously well-informed, for in the smoke-room after dinner, when in a discussion on the internal resources of Japan, the date of Queen Anne's death came up, the new arrival gave it authoritatively as 1745, and so settled the matter. The next morning brought letters addressed to Lord Roker. Five minutes after the arrival of the post the news spread, and at breakfast he was the cynosure of all eyes. It was the first time that a nobleman had stayed at the Hydro, excepting the doubtful instance of Count Spiegeleisen in 1893, but to provide for possible emergencies the management had thoughtfully placed a Peerage on the bookshelves. This volume was now thoroughly investigated, and it was learnt that James, Lord Roker, was heir to the Earldom of Challoner, and that he was born on April 25th, 1870. His birthday obviously would occur the following week, and an enterprising lady suggested the propriety of arranging for a concert and a representation of Mrs. Jarley's waxworks in honour of the occasion. The only person in the place who seemed annoyed by his arrival was Mr. John Pilgrim, a gentleman from New York. "That's why he was so darned civil to me last night," he thought. "He knows how fond Fifth Avenue girls are of the British peerage, and he thinks he's only got to drop his handkerchief for Marion to pick it up. I call it a bit thick of him. I'm glad she's away for the day. I asked him to look round this evenin', so reckon I'll have to be civil; but I'll stand no nonsense. If he tries his sawder on me durin' the day I'll let him know." There was no occasion--or, indeed, opportunity--to let Lord Roker know anything during the day, for he went to Rylstone the first thing after breakfast, and only re-appeared at dinner-time. The toilettes of at least eighteen ladies were more elaborate than usual that evening, but they were lost on Lord Roker, who, after half an hour in the smoke-room, tapped on Mr. Pilgrim's door at 8.30.