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” He looked at her pleadingly. "Is it poison?" she asked. He was a shy boy outwardly but she knew him better in his thoughts, in which perhaps she had already taken upon the role of lover. It was empty. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. "You are, Sir," thundered Jonathan; "and, unless you find him, you shan't hold your place a week. After all a thousand pounds is a trifle to rid you of an upstart, who may chance to deprive you of tens of thousands. Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon. When were you last confessed, Sir Rowland?" he added abruptly. But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself.
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