28 A JACOBITE EXILE

found, and Banks said that he knew the man could neither
read nor write. ‘lhe party below soon broke up, considera-
ble uneasiness being felt by all at the incident of the even-
ing. When the last of them had left Charlie was sent for.

“Now, then, Charlie, let me hear how all this came
about. I know that all you said about what took place at
the window is perfectly true; but even had you not said
so, I should have felt there was something else. What was
it brought you to that window? Your story was straight-
forward enough, but it was certainly singular your happen-
ing to be there, and I fancy some of our friends thought
that you had gone round to listen yourself. One hinted as
much; but I said that was absurd, for you were completely
in my confidence, and that whatever peril and danger there
might be in the enterprise, you would share them with
me.” :

“Tt is not pleasant that they should have thought so,
father, but that is better than that the truth should be
known. ‘This is how it happened;” and he repeated what
Ciceley had told him in the garden.

“So the worthy Master John Dormay has set a spy upon
me,” Sir Marmaduke said bitterly. “I knew the man was
a knave—that is public property—but I did not think that
he was capable of this. Well, Iam glad that at any rate
no suspicion can fall upon Ciceley in the matter; but it is
serious, lad, very serious. We do not know how long this
fellow has been prying and listening, or how much he may
have learnt. I don’t think it can be much. We talked it
over, and my friends all agreed with me that they do not
remember those curtains having been drawn before. To
begin with, the evenings are shortening fast, and at our
meeting last week we finished our supper by daylight;
and had the curtains been drawn it would have been
noticed, for we had need of light before we finished.
Two of the gentlemen who were sitting facing the window