“Mr. Snowdon,” said Wesley, “it doth not need that one should be possessed of a judgment beyond that of ordinary people to decide the right and the wrong of this affair in which we all take a huge interest. Come, sir, let us prepare for the best and not for the worst. What, are you a master-mariner and yet have not learned that the best way to stamp out a mutiny is by a display of promptitude. Let us lose no time over the discussion of what the result of our action may be--let us act at once.” He went to the door.. “Nay, sir; but you are a sick man--how will you make this journey?” said Snowdon. “I am no longer a sick man,” said Wesley. “I would not give a second thought to the setting out upon a journey to the Mill on foot. But there will be no need for this. Mr. Hartwell will lend us his light cart; it will hold three.” “Three? But we are but two, sir.” “Ay, Mr. Snowdon--only two for the journey to the Mill; but we shall need an extra seat for our return.” A few words to Mr. Hartwell and his easy running waggon was at the door. The drive through the valley of the Lana on this lovely afternoon had an exhilarating effect upon Captain Snowdon, for Wesley took care that their conversation should be-on topics far removed from their mission at this time. He wished to be made acquainted with his companion's views respecting many matters of the Orient. Was it possible that the Jesuits had sent missionaries to the Indies and even to China? Had Captain Snowdon had any opportunity of noting-the result of their labours? Had Captain Snowdon learned if the Jesuits discountenanced any of the odious native customs such as the burning of widows--the throwing of infants into the sacred river of Ganges? Or did the missioners content themselves with simple preaching? The journey to the Mill was all too short to allow of Captain Snowdon's answering more than a few of the questions put to him by the discreet Mr. Wesley, and it was not until they were turning down the little lane that the ship-master came to an abrupt end of his replies, and put the nervous question to his companion: “Shall we find her here, or have we come on a wild-goose chase?” In a few minutes they were in her presence--almost in her presence; they caught sight of her flying through the inner door when they entered the Mill room. The miller, in his shirtsleeves and wearing his working apron, gave a loud laugh and shouted “Stop thief!” but his daughter and her mother were looking grave and tearful. They moved to the door by which Nelly had made her escape, but checked themselves and returned to greet Wesley and Snowdon. They hoped that the sun had not been overwarm during the drive through the valley, and that Mr. Wesley had fully recovered from his sickness. The miller came to the point with his usual directness. “You have come to carry the girl home with you, I doubt not?” he said; and forthwith his wife and daughter made for the door.