that now he has come into money-and being always of good family, as everybody knowsShe hesitated and came to a halt. Her friend's eyes were fixed on her, and with an expression not unlike a lazy cat's. "Oho!" thought Mrs Polsue to herself, and for just a moment her frame shook with a dry inward spasm; but not a muscle of her face twitched. Aloud she said: "Well, in your place I shouldn't be so hot, at short notice, to stand up for a man who on your own showing is a corrupter of children's minds. Knowing what I've told you of the relations between this Nanjivell and Mrs Penhaligon, catching this Penhaligon child with a gold coin in his hand, and hearing from his own confession that the man gave it to him, even you might have drawn some conclusion, I'd have thought." and "I declare, Mary-Martha, I wouldn't think so uncharitably of folks as you do, not if I was paid for it. You're annoyedthat's what you are because you got Mr because you got him watched for a German spy, and now I've proved you're wrong and you can't wriggle out of that." "Your godfather and godmothers did very well for you at your baptism, Charity Oliver. Prophets they must have been. . . . But just you take & chair and compose yourself and listen to me.-A minute ago you complained that I took you up before you were down. Well, I'll improve on that by taking you down before you're up-or up so far as you think yourself. Answer me. This a piece of gold, eh?" "Why, of course. That's why I brought it to you." "What kind of a piece of gold?" "A guinea-piece. My father used to wear one on his watchchain, and I recognised the likeness at once.' "Quite so. Now when your father happened to earn sovereign, did he go and hang it on his watch-chain?" "What a silly question!" "It isn't at all a silly question. . . . Now tell me how many sovereigns you've seen in your life, and how many guineas?" "O-oh! what you mean I think I see "I congratulate you, I'm sure. Now I won't swear, but I'm morally certain that guineas haven't been what they call in circulation for years, and years and years." "You're always seeing them in subscription lists," Miss Oliver objected. "Take our Emergency Fund -'Charles Pendarves Tresawna, Esq., J.P., twenty-five guineas.' "I seem to remember that the Squire paid by cheque," said Mrs Polsue drily. "But the guineas must have been there, in the Bank . . . Oh, I see! You mean that a guinea being worth twenty-one shillings-" "That's right: you're getting at it. Though I declare, Charity Oliver, there are times when I don't know which is furthest behind the timesyour head, or the coqueticots you insist on wearing upon it. But now I hope you'll admit I was right, and there's a mystery about Nanjivell. Whether 'tis mixed up with his immorality or separate I won't pretend to decide, or not at this stage." "But anyway you can't make out a guinea-piece to be German," maintained Miss Oliver with a last show of obstinacy. "I don't say 'yes' or 'no' to that just yet," Mrs Polsue replied. "The newspapers tell us the Germans have been hoarding gold for a very long time. But you mentioned the Bank just now-or did I? Never mind: it was a good suggestion anyway. Wait while I send across for Mr Amphlett." "Why, to be sure," said Mr Amphlett, "it's a guinea-a George the Second guinea." He pushed back a corner of the cloth and rang the coin on the table. "Sound . . . and not clipped at all. There's always its intrinsic value, as we say: and one of these days it will have an additional value as a curiosity. But as yet that is almost negligible. Oddly enough- He broke off, fumbled in his waistcoat pocket, and produced a guinea almost precisely similar. Miss Oliver gasped it was so like a conjuring trick. "Where did Miss Oliver get this one?" asked Mr Amphlett, laying his right forefinger upon the guinea on the table while still holding the other displayed in the palm of his left hand. "I got it," confessed Miss Oliver, "off that youngest child . . But seeing that he didn't know its value, and there being something of a mystery in the whole business-as MaryMartha here will explain, though she will have it that the man is a German spy "Stuff and nonsense, ma'am! . . I beg your pardon: you're quite right: there is a mystery here, though it has nothing to do with German spies. I rather fancy I'm in a position to get to the bottom of it." On Saturday, almost at blink of dawn, the Penhaligons started house-moving. Mrs Penhaligon had everything ready -even the last box cordedmore than thirty-six hours earlier. But she would neither finish nor start installing herself on a Friday, which was an unlucky day. The discomfort of taking their meals on packing cases and sleeping on mattresses spread upon the bare floor weighed as nothing with the children in comparison with the delightful sense of adventure. Neither 'Bert nor 'Beida, when they came to talk it over, could understand why their mother was in such a fever to quit the old house. Scarcely ten days before she had kept assuring them, almost angrily, that there was no hurry before Michaelmas. It was queer too that not only had she forbidden them to accept even the smallest offer of help from Nicky - Nan when he showed himself willing (as he expressed it) for any light job as between neighbours, but on 'Bert's attempting to argue the point with her she had boxed 'Biades' ears for a quite trifling offence and promptly collapsed and burst into tears with no more preparation than that of throwing an apron over her head. "She's upset," said 'Bert. "If you learn at this rate, you'll be sent for, one of these days, by the people up at Scotland Yard," said 'Beida sarcastically. But you cannot glean much intelligence from a face which is covered by an apron. "She's upset at leavin' the house. Women are like that -always-when it comes to the point." "Are they? I'll give you leave to watch me. And I'll bet you sixpence." "You're not a woman yet. When the time comes you may start cryin' or you mayn't. But I'll take even money you box 'Biades' ears." 'Beida's glance travelled to that forlorn child. "I'll not take any bet," she announced; "when you know that it may be necessary at any momenthe's that unaccountable." She lifted her voice so that the innocent culprit could not avoid hearin'. "I don't speckilate on a thief," she added with vicious intention. "Hush-hush!" said 'Bert, and glanced anxiously at his sobbing parent. Nicky-Nan was the worst puzzled of them all. He had promised Sam Penhaligon to do his best when the family shifted quarters: and now Mrs Penhaligon would not hear of his lifting so much as a hand. He spent most of the day out on the cliffs, idly watching the military. Mrs Penhaligon had invoked the aid of Farmer Best; and Farmer Best (always a friend of the unfriended) had sent down two hay waggons to transport the household stuff. By four in the afternoon, or thereabouts, the last load had been carried and was in process of delivery at Aunt Bunney's cottage. At a quarter to five NickyNan returned to the desolate house. The front door stood open, of course. So (somewhat to his surprise) did the door of the Penhaligons' kitchen. "They're all behindhand," thought Nicky-Nan. "Better fit the good woman hadn' been so forward to despise my helpin." He peered in cautiously. The room was uninhabited; stark bare of furniture, save for the quadrant key left to hang from the midmost beam; the "hellen "-slated floor clean as a new pin. Nicky-Nan heaved a sigh. "So they've gone," he thought to himself; "an' so we all pass out, one after another. decent, cleanly woman, with all her kinks o' temper. Much A like my own mother, as I to be a reasonable hour. remember her." He passed into his parlour, laid down hat and walkingstaff, and of a sudden pulled himself upright, rigid. Footsteps were treading the floor overhead. For a moment it shook him almost to faintness. Then swiftly wrath came to his aid, and snatching up his staff again he stamped out to the foot of the stairway. "Who's that, up there?" "Ha! . . . Is that you, Nanjivell," answered the voice of Mr Amphlett. "A domiciliary visit, and no harm intended." The figure of Mr Amphlett blocked the head of the landing. Nicky-Nan raised his stick and shook it in a fury. "You get out within this minute, or I'll have the law of 'ee." Well, constable? What about that cupboard?" Nicky - Nan, reaching the doorway, gave a gasp. Across the room Rat-it-all, on hands and knees, had pulled open the door of the fatal cupboard, and had thrust in head and shoulders, exploring. "There's a loose piece of flooring here, Mr Amphlett. New by the looks of it." There was a sound of boards being shaken and thrown together in a heap. "Queer old cache here below. Here, wait till I turn my bull's-eye on it! Lucky I brought the lantern, too!" "You dare!" screamed Nicky-Nan, rushing to pull him backward by the collar. The constable, his head in the bowels of the hidingplace, neither heard him nor saw Mr Amphlett and Builder Gilbert interpose to hold NickyNan back. "But 'tis empty," announced Policeman Rat-it-all. 'Empty?" EMPTY? Nicky - Nan, bursting from the two men, gripped Rat-it-all by the collar, flung him back on the floor, snatched his bull'seye, and diving as a rabbit into its burrow, plunged the lantern's ray into the gulf. Rat-it-all had spoken truth. The treasure-every coin of it had vanished. Nicky-Nan's head dropped sideways and rattled on the boards. (To be continued.). MUSINGS WITHOUT METHOD. THE AIM THE THE GERMAN AVALANCHE-"FRANCE IN DANGER ONCE upon a time, according to the old, familiar story, an ominous rock, like a vast headland, encroached ever nearer and nearer upon a peaceful valley. Those who day after day watched its approach foolishly steeled their hearts against the fear of danger. The crash would not come in their day, they said. They would neither seek a happier valley, nor attempt to defend their homes against destruction. Self deceived, they lived their lives in careless gaiety, and had they had time to make speeches after the crash came, they doubtless would have complained that they were a deeply injured folk, trapped unawares and stricken to the dust. ened which they held dear. We shall never forget our own sublime Mr Runciman, who, when Lord Roberts urged his countrymen to arm themselves, went down to the City to apologise for the attack that Lord Roberts had made upon a great and friendly nation. That Mr Runciman should dare to apologise for anything that Lord Roberts might have chosen to do or say is ludicrous enough. That he should have apologised to Germany proves how obsequiously he had fallen under the sway of Potsdam. And France also had her Runcimans in abundance. M. Seignobos, for instance, who to be sure is not a mere politician, but a Professor at the Sorbonne, and Until last August France an historian, confided to the and England were guilty of Frankfürter Zeitung' his the same indifference which simple faith, at the passing lulled the happy valley. They in 1913 of the new German saw the German avalanche military law, that the huge coming daily closer, and they increase in the German army pretended to think that their was accounted for by the vision tricked them. They be- platonic love cherished by lieved whatever seemed pleas- William II. for his soldiers. ant to believe. They listened The Kaiser, in M. Seignobos' eagerly to the tales of peace view, liked to play at soldiers, murmured in their ears by and being able to glut his interested politicians. They passion with flesh and blood, remained resolutely deaf to the discarded the poor substitute warnings of the honest and of tin which satisfies boyish faithful men, who told them ambition all the world over. that everything was threat- What, we wonder, do Messrs |