friend you must promise to break bread with me
before I leave England."

Saxon would have given the best thoroughbred
in his stables—nay, every horse that he
possessed, and the mail phaeton into the bargain!
—only to know at that moment how the Earl
had prospered in his wooing. Being ignorant,
however, on this point, he made the best reply
he could, under the circumstances.

"I will dine with you, if I can, Signor
Colonna," he said, bluntly. "At all events, I
will call upon you at your hotel; but, until I
know how I am situated with—with regard to
other friends—I can say nothing more positive."

"Then I suppose I must try to be content,"
replied the Italian, pleasantly; but he felt that
Saxon Trefalden was on his guard, and holding
him at arm's length, and, in his heart, he cursed
the adverse power that instinct told him was at
work against him.

Later in the evening, when they were all
gone, and Lady Castletowers had retired, and
Saxon remained the only guest in the house, the
two young men went down to the smoking-
salon—a large, comfortable room adjoining the
library, and opening upon the same quiet
garden.

"Well?" exclaimed Saxon, eagerly. "What
speed?"

The Earl closed the door before replying;
and then his answer was significant enough.

"None."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Trefalden, that the sooner that
yacht is found and we are on the high seas, the
better pleased I shall be. She has refused me."

Despite the claims of friendship and his own
generous resolves, Saxon's heart gave a joyous
bound.

"Refused you!" he said. "On what
grounds?"

The Earl flung himself into a chair.

"On patriotic grounds," he replied, gloomily.

"Do you mean because you are English?"

"No—nor yet because she does not love
me; but because if she ever gives her hand in
marriage, it must be to a man who can 'do
more for Italy' than Gervase Wynneclyffe."

"Do more for Italy!" repeated Saxon,
slowly.

"Ay—do you know what that means?
Why, man, it means that Olimpia Colonna, with
all her beauty, purity, and pride of birth, will
some day sell herself—sell herself, wrong her
husband, and sacrifice me—for her country's
sake! If I were as rich as you are, she would
marry me. If you were to propose to her
tomorrow, she would marry you. If you were
old, ugly, ignorant—anything, in short, save a
Bourbon or a Hapsburg—she would probably
marry you all the same. And yet she loves
me!"

"Are you sure of that?"

"I am as certain of it as that she lives and
breathes."

"Did—did she admit it?"

"No—but she could not deny it. Besides,
I saw it—I felt it. There are times when all
men are clairvoyant; and I was clairvoyant
then."

Saxon was silent.

"And this is patriotism!" ejaculated
Castletowers, bitterly. "I have heard it said that
virtues carried to excess become vices; but till
now I never believed it. As for the Italian
cause . . . . I have been a true friend to it,
Trefalden—a true and earnest friend, as you
well know; but now—I hate it."

And he ground the words out slowly between
his teeth, as if he meant them.

After this, they sat together with books and
maps before them, planning many things, and
talking far into the night.

CHAPTER LVI. GOING TO NORWAY.

"WE are going to Norway—Castletowers
and I!"

The words were in Saxon's mouth all day
long, and Saxon himself was living in a fever of
preparation. The men at the Erectheum took a
good deal of languid interest in his plans, and were
lavish of advice in the matter of Norwegian
travel—especially those who had never crossed
the Skager Rack in their lives. And Saxon was
grateful for it all, buying everything that everybody
recommended, and stocking himself in the
wildest way with meat-essences, hermetically
preserved game and fish, solid soups, ship's
biscuit, wines, spirits and liqueurs, fishing-
tackle, wading boots, patent tents, polyglot
washing-books, Swedish and Norwegian
grammars, dictionaries and vocabularies, pocket
telescopes, pocket microscopes, pocket
revolvers, waterproof clothing, and a thousand
other snares of the like nature. Then, besides
all these, he ordered a couple of nautical suits,
and a gorgeous log-book bound in scarlet
morocco, and secured by a Chubb' s lock; for
Saxon had scorned to hire his yacht—he had
bought it, paid for it, christened it, and now
meant to play the part of captain and owner
thereof, under the due jurisdiction of a
competent master.

In all this, Mr. Laurence Greatorex had made
himself particularly useful and obliging, having
taken the trouble to go down with Saxon to
Portsmouth for the purpose of introducing him
to a ship-building acquaintance who happened,
luckily, to be able to help them to the very
thing of which they were in search. It was an
American yacht, slight and graceful as an
American beauty; and as her owner was anxious
to sell and Saxon was eager to buy, the bargain
was soon concluded.

Then came the hiring of a competent master
and crew; the shipping of Saxon's multitudinous
stores; the trial trip round the Isle of
Wight; and all the rest of those delightfully
business-like preliminaries which make the game
of yachting seem so much like earnest. And
throughout the whole of this time, Mr. Greatorex
—who, to do him justice, was really grateful
to his benefactor, and anxious to serve him in