The door opened, and the discussion between the government and the opposition in his mind ceased to consider the untimeliness of the visit, for here, in the visitor himself, stood another problem. He was a young man in military costume, his uniform being that of an officer. Eastford remembered seeing something like it on the stage, and knowing little of military affairs, thought perhaps the costume of the visitor before him indicated an officer in the Napoleonic war. “Good evening!” said the incomer. “May I introduce myself? I am Lieutenant Sentore, of the regular army.” “You are very welcome,” returned his host. “Will you be seated?” “Thank you, no. I have but a few moments to stay. I have come for my hour-glass, if you will be good enough to let me have it.” “_Your_ hour-glass?” ejaculated Eastford, in surprise. “I think you labour under a misapprehension. The glass belongs to me; I bought it to-day at the old curiosity shop in Finchmore Street.” “Rightful possession of the glass would appear to rest with you, technically; but taking you to be a gentleman, I venture to believe that a mere statement of my priority of claim will appeal to you, even though it might have no effect on the minds of a jury of our countrymen.” “You mean to say that the glass has been stolen from you and has been sold?” “It has been sold undoubtedly over and over again, but never stolen, so far as I have been able to trace its history.” “If, then, the glass has been honestly purchased by its different owners, I fail to see how you can possibly establish any claim to it.” “I have already admitted that my claim is moral rather than legal,” continued the visitor. “It is a long story; have I your permission to tell it?” “I shall be delighted to listen,” replied Eastford, “but before doing so I beg to renew my invitation, and ask you to occupy this easy-chair before the fire.” The officer bowed in silence, crossed the room behind Eastford, and sat down in the arm-chair, placing his sword across his knees. The stranger spread his hands before the fire, and seemed to enjoy the comforting warmth. He remained for a few moments buried in deep reflection, quite ignoring the presence of his host, who, glancing upon the hour-glass in dispute upon his knees, seeing that the sands had all run out silently reversed it and set them flowing again. This action caught the corner of the stranger’s eye, and brought him to a realisation of why he was there. Drawing a heavy sigh, he began his story. * * * * * “In the year 1706 I held the post of lieutenant in that part of the British Army commanded by General Trelawny, the supreme command, of course, being in the hands of the great Marlborough.”