PROBATION: A TALE OF THE LANCASHIRE COTTON FAMINE;

By. MISS JESSIE FOTHERGILL,

Author of "Healoy," "Aldyth," "Tho First

Violin," etc

CHAPTER VI,

FINE LADIES AND FOLLY,

MONDAY morning, with the business ol this work-a-day world in full swing, or rather in preparation for the week's swing of labour. In the freshness and rawness of a six o'clock morning air, Myles walked with his sister to work. He and Mary were accustomed to do all their private conver sation during these walks. They some times discussed their mother and her doings, and the discussion took away from the bit terness which silence would have left to rankle there. To-day Myles was exceedingly silent, but Mary, who knew him and loved him better than any other soul, felt that the -silence was no sign of dejection. Tho brother and sister separated on arriving at the factory. Mary went to the weaving shed and Myles to the warehouse. After breakfast the same arrangement took place ; but the day was not destined to be one of pleasant memories for Myles. In the course of the forenoon he was in the outer office witli Wilson, the overlooker, when the latter, glancing through the window, remarked: '' There's Mrs Mallory coming. I sec her carriage." Mylcs made no answer, for the informa tion did not seem of any particular impor tance ; but Wilson went on, in a voice which had grown, by anticipation, smooth and respectful. " I expect she wants to sec Mr Sutcliffe, and he's out; so she'll have to put up with me." With that he stepped up to a square of looking glass, which lie retained, despite all Mylcs' jibes and jeers, over the mantel piece, and smoothed his hair. "And, Myles, lad, as Mrs Mallory's coining and may have business to speak about, perhaps you'd better " "Go ?"said Myles tranquilly, though the suggestion was highly irritating to him. '• That I'm not going to do, old chap. I've got these figures to write down, and here I stay aud write them, if fifty Mrs Mallory's were coming," Wilson made no answer. Mylcs' position was too near his own for him to be able to order him out of tho office ; but, not quite satisfied, he waited, snatching up bundles of papers aud sample cops, shoving an empty skip aside, and endeavouring to make the rough office look a little tidier. "What a pity," remarked Mylcs sarcas tically, " that you haven't got a few ever greens and some paper roses. I'd invest iv a few if I were you, and keep them in the cupboard, ready for such an occasion as this." With which ho seated himself at the desk in the window, which commanded a view of the street, and began to write. Wilson walked up and down, watching the carriage as it drew nearer, and Mylcs felt contemptuous and superior. She's got Miss Spcncelcy in the carriage with her," observed Wilson, reconnoitrin" over Myles ' head. " They go a good deal together, those two." Mylcs looked up sharply as he heard this. The carriage had stopped ; Wilson had rushed to open the door. Myles saw the open carriage standing at the gate, and how one lady sat waiting while the other got out. The face of the waiting lady was turned towards the office. " Miss Spenceley " —the sister of the man who had displayed his contemptible charac ter to A drienne Blisset the other night, It was not likely that Myles should glance at her with very amiable or respectful feelings. He saw a graceful figure leaning nonchal antly back in the carriage ; he had a gene ral . impression of a brilliantly beautiful brunette face, large dark eyes, an extremely elegant costume, a hat or bonnet with a waving plume, a parasol covered with lace —aud that was all. But he had long sight; he saw none of her brother's expression on the girl's countenance, which was frank and open as well as beautiful. " I'd bet something they don't get on well together," he thought; and then he heard a silk dross rustle over the threshold, and a woman's voice answering indifferent ly Wilson's profuse salutations. Myles could not help looking up, tliongh he tried not to do so. He had often seen Mrs Military before, hut she had never seen him. Now she was looking full at him. She was a handsome woman, of some forty-six years of age, but looking younger when one did not notice the lines about her eyes and mouth—linos of meanness as well as pride. She was very richly dressed in black ; there was silk, and lace and, perfume about her. She was tall, fair, pale, and in clined towards embonpoint. She looked Mylcs over from head to foot; then, turning to Wilson said : "Is Mr Sutcliffe in ?" " I'm very sorry, 'm j he isn't. Helms had to go to Bolton, and won't be back till afternoon." " Oh !" said she pausing as if in thought, and theu added, " Give me the papers Mr Sutcliffe was speaking about the other day; they are sure to have been left ready. I will take them home with me and look them over. Myles had turned again to his work, aud was bending over a page of fignres, wroth with himself that, instead of being able un disturbedly to add up the figures ho had put down, he could not help listening to Mrs Mallory's voice. '^-Yes, 'm ; I'll find the papers. They'll be in Mr Sutclift'e's room. But won't you sit down, 'm, while I look for them ?'' " No ; make haste, please," was all sho said, a little impatiently ; for Mr Wilson's manner was, to put it mildly, fus-y ; and Myles feeling the inilueucc of that tone, despite all his efforts, began to count half aloud: " Three and five, nine—eight, I mean ; and seven, fifteen, and-—" " Here they are, 'in. Allow me to make them into a parcel, 'm ; it will be more con venient." " No you can take them to the carriage, and I will look them over when I have time." "Myles, lad, suppose you were to take the papers to the carriage," said Wilson wishing to appear superior. Myles looked up, surprised. He could read the simple, fussy character of the faith ful old cashier, to its very depths, and knew his motives exactly. He had no wish to disoblige him, and with an amused half smile, took the papers and waUted to Mrs Mallory's carriage. •..•... - • The young lady. Miss Spenceley, was looking somewhat impatiently towards the office. " Oh !" said she, when she saw Myles, " is Mrs Mallory in there ? Has . she nearly finished her business, do you think."

Mylcs had seen the girl many a time before ; she was the beauty and the heiress, par excellence, of Thanshopo—the only daughter, as her brother was the only son, of her parents. The young man, looking at her more attentively than ever before, could find no trace of likeness, or his scorn of her relative might have displayed itself in his voice. " I really don't know," said he, in answer to her question. ' ■ She is talking to the cashier." " Oh thanks," said she turning abruptly away, and looking impatiently up tho street. Mylcs returned to the office, and as he re entered it Mrs Mallory was saying to Wilson : " Because I expect ray son—your master —will be at home again shortly, and of course he will wish to inquire into every thing that is going on." There was something in the tone in which this was said which rasped upon Myles's feelings—a calm superiority which he felt to be extremely needless. '• Then we may expect Mr Mallory to come and take possession some time soon ?" Wilson hailed the news as if it were a per sonal favour. " I expect so, Ido not-know the exact time ; but o£ course everything will be ready for him ?" " Will lie be ready for everything ?" thought Myles, with strong contempt; his old spite—it deserves no nobler name— against the absent, unknown Sebastian Mallory rose angrily to tho surface again. "Our master, indeed !" he reflected angrily. "I wonder if he's ever proved himself his own maser yet?'' Wilson, by an unlucky combination of circumstances, was at this moment in spired to turn pointedly to Myles and remark : . " Now, Mylcs, do you hear what Madam Mallory says? I told you the master was coming, and you wouldn't believe me." " It remains to be seen whether ' master' is the right word to use," said Myles, with deliberation. "In this case I have my doubts about it." He bent to his book once more, but not before he had seen the stony stare in the light blue eyes of Mrs Mallory, and the gaze of haughty astonishment upon her pale, high-featured face—a stare which seemed to say, " I havo seen human nature in many obtrusive and ill-bred aspects, but never in one which so much required putting into its proper place as this." Mylcs smiled rather grimly to himself ; he hated to exchange such- civilities with anyone, most of all with a woman, but his spirit could ill brook the unquestionably haughty and supercilious manner of Mrs Mallory, and the profuse mouthing of the word "master"' by Wilson's complaisant lips. Mylcs had, up to now, utterly refused to call any man master, and he was not going to begin it in the case of a man whom lie had never seen, and to whom local report gave anything but a decided or master-like character. " Theses no call for you to be so rude," said the cashier, shocked and reproach ful. Myles turned to him, " Will you understand," said he with lips, that had grown tight, 'that a man can't do both arithmetic and talk ?" " Who is the young man ?' inquired Mrs Mallory of the discomfited Wilson. " You must excuse him, 'm. He's one of the foremen : lie knows no better." Mylcs made no sort of comment upon this apology, content that they should say what they liked about it, so long as they did not require him to acknowledge an unknown '• master." Mrs Mallory, after another and a pro longed stare of the said haughty astonish ment, which stare wasted itself upon the back of the delinquent, swept away, leaving Myles with his lips twisted into a line sneer—an expression to winch they were wont too readily to bend.

Mylcs' temper had assuredly not been improved by the occurrences of the morning. It was destined to be yet more severely tried before his return to work in the afternoon. On leaving the factory he parted from Mary, as he had an errand in the town, and told her he would be home in half an hour for dinner. He did his errand, and took his way home. And as he arrived at his own "ate there came out ffom it a man to whom Myles recognised a person to whom he bore no friendly feelings. He was named James Hoyle, and was by trade a small shopkeeper, in the stationery and evangelical-religious-book Uno ; occasionally he acted as a preacher of a denunciatory and inflammatory descrip tion ; always he was a missionary—so, at least, he said. To him and to his style of preaching and piety Myles had a most thorough dislike ; he believed him to be a hypocrite, and in this case his dislike was well grounded enough, and founded on facts. " Good morning, Myles. The Lord bless you !'' observed Mr Hoyle, holding out a dingy, fat hand. No lowest scum of the Levites, of whatever section, whatever persuasion, could have looked, thought Myles, sleeker or more as if his sleekness were an ill-gotten gain. Out of tune as Myles was with all the world, this apparition and his tone of fami liarity was not of a kind likely to restore harmony to the jarring notes of his life's music. Drawing up Ins proud figure to its utmost height, and looking with his contempt uous eyes down upon the pudgy individual who addressed him, he said : " Good morning. I'll thank you not to make so free with my name. Who gave you leave to call me ' Myles' ?" He ignored the outstretched hand, having an objection to touching what he considered to be both literally and metaphorically dirty fingers. Hoyle looked up at him, and his eyes twinkled. "I've been taking spiritual counsel with your mother, my dear young friend. A sweet, precious soul! It is a privilege to converse with her; she teaches one so much." "Does she? It's a pity but she could teach you to be sober and honest," said Myles, with distinct enunciation and scorn ful mien, holding himself somewhat aloof from Mr Hoyle. ' ■ Anyhow," he continued, "until -you've managed it—the soberness ane honesty, I mean (you needn't look as if you didn't know. I saw where you came out of at eleven o'clock on Saturday night) —till then you'll please give this house a clear berth, and my mother may take her spiritual counsel—if she wants it—with a different sort of person from you." He was about to turn in at the gate, but, with his hand on the latch, was arrested by an expression on the' face of the other. " The day will come, young man, when you will wish you had treated me—me, of all people—with more respect," said he with a smile, for lie had a flexible face, which appeared to lend itself even more easily to smiles than to other expressions. Yet the smile was an evil one. He turned and walked away, and Myles, in some annoyance, went into the house. Usually Mrs Heywood had the field to her self in the exercise of her tongue. Edmund occasionally indulged in a burst of temper,

but always to his own d isadvantage. Mary never auswered at all. Mylcs alone, as lias been before said, could, with a certain look and tone, show himself master of thefretful, repining embodiment of scolding and sel fishness whom they had the misfortune to call mother. To-day he was in no mood to stand " nonsensa," and as he went into the kitchen he said, hanging up his cap, and taking Edmund's hand as he seated himself ■ beside him : "What does yon James Hoyle want always hanging about here? The chap is never out of the place, and I can't abide him. If he doesn't give us a little more of his room and less of his company I must speak to him. Mary, lass, I hope thou'rt not got agate of meeting going." He spoke with perfect nature and good temper, not suspecting anything but that all the rest of the company were equally averse with himself to Mr Hoyle's visits, and he smiled a little as he looked at Maiy. "Me 1" said his sister laughing. " Nay, I'm not come to that. As long as I live l'st go to th' parish church every Sunday, and sit in th'old place " "Alongside o'Harry Ashworth," put in Edmund, gravely; at which Mary's cheeks, flushed, and she went on somewhat more rapidly. '' For I make nowt at o' out o' the meeting house." "Perhaps you'll end by leaving th owd place for an older, and going clean over t' Home," said Mrs Heywood, who had been bending over the lire, looking at a pan of potatoes, and who now raised rather a Hushed face from that occupation ; " choose how, there's* nowt to be said here against James Hoyle, the godly man! and its more than likely that you'll see more of him than you have done yet." " How do you mean ?" asked her eldest son, turning towards her; you mean that Jimmy Hoyle would come here a second time after I'd forbidden hi in to the house " He laughed as if he thought it rather a good joke. " You'd turn him outof the house ? That's like you ?" said Mrs Heywood, emptying the potatoes into a tureen. " I really don't know what you're talking about," said Myles, in some surprise at her whole demeanour. "Well you'll get to know, then,"she re torted without meeting his eye. " A good man is like the salt of the earth. He can make even a sinful house holy, and bring a blessing on it. James Hoyle and me is going to be married. Wc'st be wed this day three week, and then I'd like to know how you'll forbid him the house." There was a momentary silence, during which Myles, who had risen, stared at his mother in an incredulous manner. Mary, after a moment turned pale, and sat down upon a chair in the background. Edmund's lips were curled into a sneer. " Mother !" said Myles, confronting her, and somehow forcing her eyes to meet his. " Is this a joke that you're playing upon us ? Because, ii so, it's a very poor one." " Joke !" she retorted, her voice rising to shrillness. "What should it be a joke for, I'd like to know? Have I such comfort in my children that I shouldn't be glad of the help of a godly man—oh, aud he is a godly man—like that 1" " That's a poor answer mother," said Myles, who had thrust his, hand into his breast,'as if to repress some anger or emotion. "Your children have never done anything. to cause you uneasiness." "'Do go on blowing your own trumpet!" Mrs Heywood exhorted him. " May, I've no more tosay about it. But I want a better answer than that your children's conduct drove you to marry that great idle greasy, sanctimonious, all-pray ing, no-doing brute —he isn't a man; I can understand him wanting to marry you; you've thirty pounds a year of your own ; but that you should look at him ?" He made an expressive gesture of contempt. " So it's my money he's marrying mo for," said Mrs Heywood ; and no girl of eighteen could have spoken with more anger at the suggestion. "That's it, is it? Ay, ay! ' Honour thy father and thy mother'—do 1" "Are you giving us an example of honour ing our father?" he inquired, g,owing quieter in tone as his anger and • disgust gfew more intense, and her determination (he saw) more fixed. "Or is your present plan likely to lead us to honour you ? No mother ; I can't see what a woman like you wants with marrying again ; though if it had been a decent man, let him be ever so rough, I'd have put up with him, but that —Wiry, I saw him on Saturday night coining out of the lowest public house in Thanshope —half drunk—as plain as I see you. But here's the long and short of it. That man certainly never enters this house again. I'll let him know that. Aud if you do marry him, he'll please to find a home for you ; for neither he nor you will share ours, Mark my words—if you go to him, you leave us for ever." "Mother, thoirll ne'er be so wicked," said Mary, from her corner, in tears. " Hold thy tongue, thou hussy ! calling thy mother wicked," said Mrs Heywood sharply. "I'll not have Molly called by that name," said Myles composedly. Remember, it's I that am master here, when all's said and done. I'll have no such nonsense car ried on. So let us hear—do you intend to be a wise woman or a fool ?" The words were not at all rudely spoken, but they were unfortunately chosen. They incensed Mrs Heywood, and she replied sharply : " I intend to marry James Hoyle." "Then," said he, slowly, as it giving her an opportunity to recant, "its settled that I intend to have no more to. do with you." "Oh, Myles, don't be so hard on her!" implored Mary coming forward and laying her hand on his arm. "My goodla-s," said he "dry thy eyes, and he glad thou'rt not called upon to be hard, as thou calls it." Mary did not expostulate. Under the gentleness of the words she read a decision which she did not attempt to combat. "Mary's our good angel," remarked Edmund from the couch ; and his eyes, too, fell upon her with affection. " A nice angel you'll find her when I'm gone," grumbled Mrs Heywood. "Once more," broke in Myles' voice, "I tell you, mother, I live spoken to you for the last time, unless I hear that this abom inable thing is given up—for the last time. " Mylcs !" implored his sister. But she might as well have tried to move one of the groat boulders on Blackrigg as make him soften or yield one jot. "Come, lass!" he observed to her. Those that must work must eat. The time's gone by in this precious palaver, and we've only twenty minutes left." He sat down and helped himself, and tried to look as if nothing had happened; soon, however, he laid down his knife and fork, and told Mary, who had not even pretended to eat, that it was time to go. She put her shawl over her head, and, saying good afternoon to Edmund, they went out.

CHAPTER VII.

SANS FACON. Six o'clock was the time at which the work people "knocked off." Myles aud Mary had not spoken as they went to their \ work, and of course not during the after noon; and it was only as they were coming

home again that they first named the sub ject which at the moment lay nearest then hearts. Mary was all for mildness and temperate measures. " I think, Myles, that if we was to be kind to her, and talk to her, hood likely give it up," said the girl, in her soft broad Lancashire dialect, '•-., . " Not she, Molly. She's no intention -of giving it up." , . "I never could abide yon Hoyle,' went on Mary, "A false sneakin' fellow, he always seemed to me. I reckon he's after mother's bit o' brass; but how hoo can gi' so mich as a thought to him—nay it fail passes me I" "' ''Ay! you may well blush! I don t wonder !'' said Myles, grimly. It looks as if some people's minds were fair crooked, or set up on edge, or upside down, or some thing." They went into the house, and found Edmund alone. " She's not coming back," said he, by way of salutation. "She's gone to some of his relations. She says site's lived through a deal o' trouble, and has found out at last what it was to be turned out of doors by her own children." Neither Mary nor Myles made any answer to tin's announcement. Mary got tea ready, and they sat down. It was a silent, pain ful meal. Myles rose from it with a sense of relief, and taking Edmund's book to change, said he was going to the reading room. " Would thou mind calling at th' sad dler's in Bold-street for yon strap of mine ?" said Mary. " Which strap, Molly ?" " It's a girder as I took to have anew un made like it. He'll give you both th'old and th' new un. I could like to have it to take with me to-mom. I've been using Sally Rogers; but hoo's comin' back again to-morn, and hoo'll want ithoo'rsel." "Ay, I'll get it," said Myles, putting on his cap and going out. ' fle made a little detour from his usual route, in order to go to the saddler's on his errand for Mary. Bold-street was one of the principal streets of Thanshope, and close to the very shop to which Myles was going was a place known to the vulgar as th' Club." This was a billiard and whist club, frequented by the golden youth of the promising town of Thanshope. It was a spot not exactly loved of the mammas of the said town, and much dis cussed by the young ladies of the same. Much iniquity was vaguely supposed to be perpetrated there ; some of the piously dis posed spoke of it as a " den ; " others, who knew nothing, and wished to appear as if they knew a great deal, said it was " as bad as the worst of London clubs" which remark may serve as a specimen of the self-consciousness of little provincial towns —and "den"" is a word which has about it a fine abstract flavor of awfulness. It is probable that, as a matter of fact, much bad whist was played there ; billiard balls were knocked up and down, and bets made ; too much'spirits were pro bably consumed ; as many dull, coarse, or vulgar tales were told, as much aimless scandal was talked, as many praiseworthy efforts were made to ape the manners and tone of metropolitan clubs, as in _ most provincial institutions of a similar kind. Myles went to the saddler's, which was next door to this temple of hilarity, fashion, and fastness ; got the straps which Mary had spoken of, and then came out to take his way to the Town Hall. As he passed the portico of the club, he saw just within it a back which he remembered, clothed in broadcloth. Beside this figure was another that of a mere lad, with a babyish farce, and no chin to speak of, who would have been better in the' cricket field, or even grinding at his Latin grammar. On his small-featured, insignificant face, was stamped an expression of foolish glee and admiration. The first individual was speaking ; Myles, strolling leisurely past, heard the words, in the loud strident voice : " Such a chase, my boy ! but I succeeded. I found out where she livss, and waylaid her ; gave her my protection whether she . liked it or not. Unless I'm much mistaken, we shall soon be very good friends. She's _ a deep one—those (little demure things always are. Ha, ha !" " I say Spenceley " " Doosid pretty, though. D—d good eyes she has, and knows how to use them. Look here ! do you want your revenge for Saturday night j" " Oh yes ! Come along !" They walked forward into the interior of the hall, and were lost to view. Never before had Myles felt the singular sensation which just then clutched him—a kind of tingling, half of rage, half of shame, from head to foot —a tempest of his whole mental being. He was iv a white heat of fury, and only two ideas were distinct in his mind—to find Adrienne, and to punish her insultor. Almost, unknowing how, he hurried to the Town Hall, up the stairs, through the library, into the reading-room. Would she be there ? Yes, she was there in her usual place. He strode towards her. She was not even pretending to read or write, She sat pale as ashes, and trembling, as he saw in his approach. "Missßlisset !" he almost whispered, as he went up to her, and bent over her, his face dark with suppressed indignation, his eyes aflame. If she too had not been moved out of all conventional calm, she must have started at the expression which flashed from his face upon hers. " Oh, Mr Heywood, will you be so very good as to go home with me now, at once ? I have been so frightened and—in sulted." Her voice broke, though her eyes flashed. How proud a front soever she might have showed to her insulter, the reaction had set in ; the remembrance was not to be borne unmoved. " 1 know you have," said he, in a low, emphatic voice ; and a tremor shook him too as he looked at her, and saw how beautiful. she was. He had admired her as she sat in repose, but now every fibre of his nature bowed to her, and he felt a passionate desire to do something, anything, which should set him apart in her eyes from others. Yet, after his first swift glance, he scarcely looked at her, and said very little. Words appeared weak and.trivial—he could not express in them his detestation of the of the conduct ot that other man, or how profoundly he reverenced her. " How was it?" he asked, speaking com posedly, but clenching his hands, and crushing together what he held in them. "It was that man,'' she said, in a low, breathless voice, " that hideous man. I don't know where he saw me. I think he must have followed me, but when I got to that littte lane, he suddenly overtook me, and spoke to me. I could not turn back. It would have been much farther—and so lonely. I did not answer him ; I went on very fast, but he detained me so.long in that lane—he would not let me pass. I thought I should—bah ! I thought, when we got into the town, that he would have left me, but he did not. He came to the very door of this place, and I dare not go out for fear he would be there yet. Oh, I am so glad to see you ! I thought you were never coming."

She had leaned her head upon her hand or she must have seen the light that flashed suddenly into his eyes—not the litdit t_S had been there at first. He drew" a loru» breath, but succeeded in not betraying fnf a second his emotion, as she. turned:?nal« and quivering with-exutement and pit her two little slender hands upon his, .sayim. earnestly : \. ■-:-;.' " " You have been very kind to me. vAvw ;!' should I have done if you had not helnlJ me ?" .; % pr " It has been a pleasure to serve you » he said* constrainedly. "Do you feel fit li walk home now ?" ""Oh, qnite !" she answered, pickiffiTjj? her notebook; and they went away to gether. . Myles walked with her io the gate of.her uncle's house ; and said, as they paused! ■' there : ", '!<m "Of course you will never come again Miss Blisset ?' V ' ■• ' ■ ' ■■';-';flrf.';i;yi J'Never. Of course not?" ~.>-. " Then—then— —" he faltered, uriaole. to say what he wished. • i' ::''.) " But 1 shall see you again, of course'"-, 7 said Adrienne quickly. " You will com& -i again. My uucle wishes you to come againj And you will yes—?" : . . y^; i "You are sure it wouldn't be an intra--" sion ?'' said Myles, doubtfully. , , . > " Very far from an intrusion,"; she answered. " You will be welcome.* and you will be expected until' you i come." ■___. With which and with a warm hand shkljef she disappeared. . Myles did not pause to.night to contem.l plate the street or to look out for the fight; m the window. He took the shortest and" straightost course into the town again, went direct to Bold-street and stopped before the' ciub. -— hi There was a light in the vestibule of that. building, and a waiter stood at the door;I- --surveying the passers-by, and feeling.no.' doubt that he looked negatively fascina- ting. -• •- -; ;[ : r \ ". "Is M.i Frederick Spenceley here?"' inquired Myles, quietly and politely. ' • Mr Frederick Spenceley ?" repeated the waiter, while an expression' of ill-humour crossed his face. "I rather think he .is, , . and in a deuce oi a temper too. If Mr ■'-. Frederick Spenceley keeps on coming here, ;, ' I shan't stay. Well, do you want to see !"--^ him ?" '' I should like just to speakto him," said.' Myles, even calmly and politely; his one i object being to penetrate to Mr Spenceley|s presence content to pocket his burning fury until he was face to face with him. Mr Spenceley evidently enjoyed little— favour in the eyes of the waiter, or the latter! E would hardly have allowed a working man to penetrate into that sanctum sanctorum, the billiard-room. As it was he said : ' " Well, if you go straight ahead upstairs, you'll findhim iv the billiard-room, \ expect. But perhaps you want to see him down here?" - - | "Ohno ! I can go to him. UpstairsyouT say ?" i-I. I The waiter nodded; and Myles, obeying ~:i| his direction, found himself on the first land- 'j ing, opposite a door inscribed "Billiards."' ~; :' He knocked, but no reply was given,;.', which was accounted for by the loud and-, overpowering voice of Fredrick Spenceley!;;.. whose accents drowned all other sounds. > '■ ; Myles opened the door, and walked into- "■' ' the room, which was like most other oil-"' | liard-rooms; four green shaded lights above T the table; the marker, standing in his place, looking sulky—he too having received his share of the compliments of Mr Spence- t ley that evening. (It wasi a significant fact that not one of'"..'■ Frederick Speiueley's inferiors would have felt, anything but pleasure in his degreda tion or humiliation,). There was Charley Saunders, the insigni ficant looking boy, whose pretty pink-and white face was now a good deal flushed, and who. laughed foolishly now and tlwiiinhis. ; high-pitched voice. Opposite, with,-his,,;;, burly back towards the door, was.F.rederick Spenceley, shouting very loudly, and freely i expressing his opinion that the cloth was a confounded bad one, and that the table wa*: <: not level. . :: "It's your eye that's not level, Freddy, my boy," said his youthful opponent; "and, your cue too. Look out what you're doing."". :i " D—n it! it isn't. Where's the cha-alk 'ji lt's my beastly luck," roared Spenceley,;: '. against whom the balls had broken most-i unfavourably the whole evening. ~ . Had the fellow been in the least intoxi-;.... cated, Mylcs would have retired; but. he :7 was merely noisy and ill-tempered, and,•■:.. accordingly the workman chose that moment. j.j to step .forward aud touch Mr Spenceley 0a.. : , the shoulder. With a violent start which ... contrasted somewhat curiously with hi 5...,,, previous bluster, he turned ; and when he, ' saw Myles, his face assumed a deep hue of .; anger, and perhaps of some less noble feel--;.,! - ing. ;:'.. *■' "I want a word with you," said Myles, ",.'/■'. ---curtly; and young Saunders paused to stare ;,; at the new comer, while the marker turned :' and looked on too. Be it observed that neither of these men loved Fredrick Spenceley/ A billiard marker, however, is not always in a position, to resent affronts, and Charley Saunderß-*1' was a person of less importance than Spenceley, whatever might be his private opinion of him. Moreover, the whole pro ceeding took them .by surprise or—perhaps they might have interfered. "If you like to come to another room,. '','[ where wo can be alone," pursued Myles composedly, "lead the way. I don't care ■" ' where it is." " What the—— do you want, you ?"' growled Spenceley recovering his pluck, or what he was pleased to consider his pluck. " I think you remember me. I don't need' to introduce myself," said Myles. Now look here! You've been behaving like a j blackguard again—perhaps you can't help that—but, in any case, you'll be pleased te take your attentions to some other quarter than that one. You know what I mean." i " I'll be—" (a volley of the dash dialect). <-,>"' —"if I do, you fool! Be off, and don't annoy gentleman. Clear out I say, or I'll;/: call the waiter, and have you kicked out." .;'> There was that hi Myles' face,. sofarre-;;,i moved from brutal violence, which was eon- ;'?•'■: spicuous in every word and gesture of.';*»■• Spenceley, that the others were quiescent. ,; how he had got there was a mystery to X them ; but being there, they were English-;:! mcii enough to wish for fair play, and had yV sufficient sense to perceive that the work- ?£ i man was no blackguard, whatever his inter-•:'; locutor might be. _ .:■/ "Yon were in Markham's Lane to-night," , / went on Myles, composedly,, though liis::}-j-: face had become white, and his lips were-J.' set. "What's that to you.?.. What business r have you to come spying on gentleman ?" /;';:-* "If I were you I wouldn't say too much • about spying. You know what happened there—in Markham's Lane, I mean. If any- i;; thing like it happens again—just onco- ', again " ' He paused. -■ j:, "Well?" said Spenseley, with a sneer;;,-. , and a taunt: "what will be the cousequen- . ', ces, my fine fellow ?".".'..'.'..'.'.'.'.'.'. • 'U/ " They will be unpleasant to you, for 11l thrash you within an inch of your life." "Ha ! ha! ha!" roared Mr Spenceley, but somehow there was a false note in the - full chord: it failed of rounded, complete harmony,

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, AUGUST 27,1881.

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