"Do you know when Mr. Montfort is coming home?" was Margaret's next question; and as she put it she looked straight into the gardener's brown eyes, and they looked straight into hers. She fancied that John Strong changed colour a little. "I have not heard from him lately," he said quietly. "I think he will be here very soon now. Could I--may I ask if anything is distressing you, my--Miss Margaret?" Margaret hesitated. The temptation was strong upon her to tell the whole tale to this man, whom she felt she could trust entirely; but the thought of Rita held her back. She would say what was necessary, and no more. "I--I think--" she began timidly, "it might be well for you to be watchful at night, John. The Cubans--I have heard rumours--there might be vessels,--do you think, possibly--" She broke off. The whole thing seemed like a nursery nightmare, impossible to put into plain English without exposing its absurdity. But John Strong glanced at her again, and his eyes were grave. "Miss Rita is deeply interested in the Cuban war, I believe," he said, with meaning. Margaret started. "How did you know?" she asked. "Surely she has not--" John Strong laughed. "Hardly," he said. "Miss Rita does not converse with menials. It was Peggy--Miss Peggy, I should say--who told me about it. She was quite inclined to take fire herself, but I think I cooled her down a bit. These are dangerous matters for young ladies to meddle with. I think she told me that young Mr. Carlos Montfort was now in New York?" "I--I believe so," said Margaret. She was angry with Peggy for talking so freely, yet it was a great help to her now, for John Strong evidently understood more of the matter than she would have liked to tell him. "You may trust me, Miss Margaret, I think," he said presently, after a few moments of silent snipping. "It is not necessary for me to know anything in particular, even if there is anything to know. I am an old soldier, and used to keeping watch, and sleeping with one eye open. You may trust me. You have said nothing of this to Mrs. Cheriton?" He looked up quickly. "No; I thought she ought not to be distressed--" "That was right; that was very right. You have shown--that is, you may depend on me, young lady. May I cut this bud for you? It is a perfect one, if I may say so. Perhaps you will look closer at it, Miss; (Miss Rita is observing you from the balcony, and you would not wish)--there, Miss. I shall bring some cut flowers into the dining-room later, for arrangement, as you ask. Good morning, Miss." Margaret returned to the house, half relieved, half bewildered. John Strong was certainly a remarkable person. She did not understand his position here, which seemed far removed from that of a domestic, but after all, it was none of her business. And even if he did speak of Peggy by her first name, was it Margaret's place to reprove him? He was almost old enough to be Peggy's grandfather.