So now all's explained, and I have your
promise."

Saxon looked earnestly in his cousin's face.
He fancied that no man could look another in
the face and tell a lie. Many persons entertain
that belief; but a more mistaken notion does
not exist. Your practised liar makes a point of
staring into his hearer's eyes, and trusts to that
very point for half the effect of his lie. But
Saxon would not have believed this had an
angel told him so. Therefore he looked in his
cousin's face for evidence—and therefore, when
William Trefalden gave him back his look with
fearless candour, his doubts were at once
dispelled, and he promised unhesitatingly.

"That's well," said the lawyer. " And now,
Saxon, sit down and tell me what you have
come to say."

"It's a long story," replied Saxon.

"I am used to hearing long stories."

"But I am not used to telling them; and I
hardly know where to begin. It's about a
lady."

"About a lady?" repeated William Trefalden;
and Saxon could not but observe that his
cousin's voice was by no means indicative of
satisfaction.

"In fact," added the young man, hastily,
"it's about two or three ladies."

Mr. Trefalden held up his hands.

"Two or three ladies!" said he. " How
shocking! Is Miss Colonna one of them?"

"Oh dear no!" replied Saxon, emphatically
—perhaps a little too emphatically. And then
he plunged into his story, beginning at his first
meeting with Miss Rivière at the Waterloo
Bridge station, and ending with the adventure
in the mausoleum.

Mr. Trefalden heard him to the end very
patiently, putting in a question now and then,
and piecing the facts together in his mind as
they were brought before him. At length Saxon
came to a pause, and said:

"That's all, cousin; and now I want you to
tell me what I can do."

"What do you want to do?" asked the
lawyer.

"I want to help them, of course."

"Well, you have the young lady's address.
Send her a cheque for fifty pounds."

"She wouldn't take it, if I did. No, no,
cousin William, that's not the way. It must be
done much more cleverly. I want them to have
money regularly—twice a year, you know—
enough to keep her poor mother in Italy, and pay
the doctor's bills, and all that."

"But this annuity from Lady Castletowers . . . ."

"Lady Castletowers is as hard and cold as
marble," interrupted Saxon, indignantly. " I
had rather starve than take a penny from her.
If you had heard how grudgingly she promised
that miserable twenty pounds!"

"I never supposed that her ladyship had a hand
open as day, for melting charity," said Mr.
Trefalden.

"Charity!" echoed Saxon.

"Besides, I doubt that it is charity. There
must be some claim. . . . .Surely I have heard
the name of Rivière in connexion with the
Wynncliffs or Hie Pierrepoints . . . and yet . . .
Pshaw! if Keckwitch were here he could tell
me in a moment!"

And Mr. Trefalden leaned back thoughtfully
in his chair.

" I wish you could suggest a way by which I
might do something for them," said Saxon. " I
want them to get it, you see, without knowing
where it comes from."

"That makes it difficult," said Mr. Trefalden.

"And yet it must not seem like almsgiving."

"More difficult still."

"I thought, if it were possible to give her
some sort of commission," said Saxon, doubtfully
"a commission for coloured photographs
of the Italian coast, you know . . . . would that
do?"

"It is not a bad idea," replied the lawyer.
"It might do, if skilfully carried out; but I
think I hear Keckwitch in the office."

And then Mr. Trefalden went in search of his
head clerk, leaving Saxon to amuse himself as
well as he could with the dingy map and the
still more dingy law books.

At the end of a long half hour, he came back
with a paper of memoranda in his hand.

"Well?" said Saxon, who was tired to death
of his solitary imprisonment.

"Well; I believe I know all that is to be
learned up to a certain point; and I have, at
all events, found out who your railway heroine
is. It's a somewhat romantic story, but you
must sit down and listen patiently while I
relate it."

THE FIRE BRIGADE.

THE fire-engines of London, including the
puffing Billies which make such a ferment of
steam and smoke along the streets, now belong
to the public, or at least will do so as soon as
the recent statute comes into operation. Strange
it may appear to continental nations that these
invaluable aids to the security of our dwellings
have hitherto been absolutely unrecognised by
the government, the municipality, or any public
body.

For a period of ninety years there has really
been only one statute in operation containing
compulsory rules as to fire-engines; and this
refers only to the little half-pint squirts known
to us as parish engines. It is to the effect
that every parish must keep one large engine
and one small, one leathern pipe, and a certain
number of ladders. What the parishes might
have done if no other organisation had sprung
up, we do not know; but the insurance
companies having taken up the matter, the parishes
backed out, doing only just as little as the law
actually compelled, and doing that little about
as ineffectively as possible. It used to be fine
fun to see the magnilieent beadle and his troop
of young leather-breeches drag the parish engine