"Body o' me! I thought you were lost," exclaimed the Squire, as they re-entered the room. "Been for a ramble, eh? seen the sea! Fine evening for it. And when do you come down into this part of the country again, Mr. Sketcher?" "That is more than I can say, sir. My movements are most erratic and uncertain." "Mr. Conroy thinks it not unlikely he may be sent to Africa--to Ashantee," said Ella, a little ring of pathos in her voice. "Ah--ah--nothing like plenty of change when you are young. Bad climate, though, Ashantee, isn't it? You'll have to be careful Yellow Jack doesn't lay you by the heels. He's a deuce of a fellow out there, from all I've heard. Eh?" "I must take my chance of that, sir, as other people have to do." "You talk like a lad of spirit. Snap your fingers in the face of Yellow Jack, and ten to one he'll glance at you and pass you by. It's the tremblers he lays hold of first." "Why should you be chosen, Mr. Conroy, for these posts of danger?" inquired Ella. "Cannot some one else share such duties?" "Is it not possible that I may prefer such duties to any other? They do not suit everyone. As it happens they suit me." "Have you no mother or sister--who may fear your running into unnecessary dangers?" "I have neither mother nor sister. I have a father; but he lets me do what seems right in my own eyes." Mr. Denison took what for him was a very cordial leave of Conroy. "If I am alive when you come back," he said, as he held the younger man's hand in his for a moment, "do not forget that there will be a welcome for you at Heron Dyke. If I am not alive--then it won't matter, so far as I am concerned." Ella took leave of Conroy at the door. Hardly more than a dozen words passed between them. "If you must go to Africa," she said, "I hope you will not run any needless risks." "I will not. I promise it." "We shall often think of you," she added, in a low voice. "And I of you, be you very sure." Her fingers were resting in his hand. He bent and pressed them to his lips, and--the next moment he was gone. CHAPTER VIII. AT THE LILACS. Nullington was a sleepy little town, standing a mile, or more, from Heron Dyke, and boasted of some seven or eight thousand inhabitants. The extension of the railway to Nullington was supposed to have made a considerable addition to its liveliness and bustle: but that could only be appreciated by those who remembered a still more sleepy state of affairs, when the nearest railway station was twenty miles away, and when the Mermaid coach seemed one of those institutions which must of necessity last for ever.