When the Lyles returned from their drive, it was to find that Alice was too ill to come down to dinner. She had, she said, a severe headache, and wished to be left perfectly quiet and alone. This was a sore disappointment to Bella, brimful of all she had seen and heard, and burning with impatience to impart how Skeffy had been sent for by the King, and what he said to his Majesty, and how the royal plans had been modified by his sage words; and, in fact, that the fate of the Neapolitan kingdom was at that moment in the hands of that “gifted creature.”

It was such she called him; and I beg my kind reader not to think the less of her that she so magnified her idol. The happiest days of our lives are the least real, just as the evils which never befall us are the greatest.

Bella was sincerely sorry for her sister's headache; but with all that, she kept stealing every now and then into her room to tell what Skeff said to Caraffa, and the immense effect it produced. “And then, dearest,” she went on, “we have really done a great deal to-day. We have sent off three 'formal despatches,' and two 'confidential,' and Skeff has told my Lord B., Secretary of State though he be, a piece of his mind,—he does write so ably when he is roused; and he has declared that he will not carry out his late instructions. Few men would have had courage to say that; but they know that, if Skeff liked, he has only to go into Parliament: there are scores of boroughs actually fighting for him; he would be positively terrible in opposition.”

A deep wearied sigh was all Alice's response.

“Yes, dearest, I 'm sure I am tiring you; but I must tell how we liberated Mr. M'Gruder. He has been, he says, fifty-three days in prison, and really he looks wretched. I might have felt more for the man, but for the cold good-for-nothing way he took all Skeff's kindness. Instead of bursting with gratitude, and calling him his deliverer, all he said was, 'Well, sir, I think it was high time to have done this, which, for aught I see, might just as easily have been done three or, perhaps, four weeks ago.' Skeff was magnificent; he only waved his hand, and said, 'Go; you are free!' 'I know that well enough,' said he, in the same sturdy voice; 'and I intend to make use of my freedom to let the British people know how I have been treated. You 'll see honorable mention of it all, and yourself, too, in the “Times,” before ten days are over.'”

“My dear Bella, my head is racking; would you just wet that handkerchief and lay it on my forehead?”

“My poor sweet Alice! and I so cruel, with all my stupid stories; but I thought you 'd like to hear about Tony.”

“Tony!—what of Tony?” asked she, raising herself on one elbow and looking up.

“Well, dearest, it was while in search after Tony that M'Grader got imprisoned. They were sworn friends, it seems. You know, dear, Tony was never very particular in his choice of friends.”

“But what of him,—where is he?”

“I'll tell you everything, if you'll only have a little patience. Tony, who was living with M'Grader in Leghorn,—a partner, I think, in some odious traffic,—cast-off clothes, I believe,—grew tired of it, or got into debt, or did something that brought him into trouble, and he ran away and joined that mad creature Garibaldi.”

“Well, go on.”

“Well, he had not been gone more than ten days or so, when a lawyer came out from England to say that his uncle, Sir Somebody Butler, had died and left him all he had,—a fine estate, and I don't know how much money. When Mr. M'Grader was quite satisfied that all this was true,—and, like a canny Scotchman, he examined it thoroughly,—he set off himself to find Tony and tell him his good news; for, as he said, it would have been a terrible thing to let him go risk his life for nothing, now that he had a splendid fortune and large estate. Indeed, you should have heard Mr. M'Gruder himself on this theme. It was about the strangest medley of romance and worldliness I ever listened to. After all, he was a stanch friend, and he braved no common dangers in his pursuit. He had scarcely landed, however, in Sicily, when he was arrested and thrown into prison.”

“And never met Tony?”

“Never,—of course not; how could he? He did not even dare to speak of one who served under Garibaldi till he met Skeffy.”

“But where is Tony? Is he safe? How are we to hear of him?” asked Alice, hurriedly.

“Skeff has undertaken all that, Alice. You know how he has relations with men of every party, and is equally at home with the wildest followers of Mazzini and the courtiers about the throne. He says he 'll send off a confidential messenger at once to Garibaldi's camp with a letter for Tony. Indeed, it was all I could do to prevent him going himself, he is so attached to Tony, but I begged and implored him not to go.”

“Tony would have done as much for him,” said Alice, gloomily.

“Perhaps he would; but remember the difference between the men, Alice. If anything should befall Skeffy, who is there to replace him?”

Alice, perhaps, could not satisfactorily answer this, for she lay back on her bed, and covered her face with her hands.

“Not, indeed, that he would listen to me when I made that appeal to him, but he kept on repeating, 'Tony is the finest, truest-hearted fellow I ever met. He'd never have left a friend in the lurch; he'd never have thought of himself if another was in danger; and help him I must and will:' and that's the reason we are waiting dinner, dear, for he would go off to the Minister of War or the President of the Council; and he told papa, as he shook hands, on no account to wait for him, for he might be detained longer than he expected.”

As she spoke, a tap came to the door, and a servant announced dinner.

“Has Mr. Damer arrived?” asked Bella, eagerly.

“No, ma'am, but Sir Arthur has just got a note from him.”

“I must see what he says!” cried she, and left the room.

Sir Arthur was reading the letter when she entered.

“Here's Skeff gone off to what he calls the 'front;' he says that Tony Butler has joined the insurgents, and he must get him out of their hands at any price.”

“But of course, papa, you 'll not permit it; you 'll forbid him peremptorily,” broke in Bella.

“I 'm not so sure of that, Bella; because, amongst other reasons, I 'm not so sure he 'd mind me. Our gifted friend is endowed with considerable self-will.”

“Immense determination, I should rather call it, papa; but, pray, try to stop this mad freak. He is not certainly called on to expose such a life as his, and at such a moment.”

“What am I to do?”

“Go over to him at once; declare that you have the right to speak on such a subject. Say that if he is pleased to overlook the necessity of his presence here at this crisis, he ought to remember his position with regard to us,—ought to think of me,” said she, with a burst of grief that ended in a shower of tears, and drove her from the room.

Sir Arthur was far more disposed to sit down to his dinner than go off on this mission of affection; but Lady Lyle took the same view of the case as her daughter, and there was no help for it. And although the bland butler repeated, “Soup is served, sir,” the poor man had to step downstairs to his carriage and drive off to the Legation.

On arriving there, he learned that his Excellency had gone to see the Prime Minister. Sir Arthur set off in the pursuit, which led him from one great office of the state to another, always to discover that the object of his search had just left only five minutes before; till, at length, his patience became exhausted on hearing that Mr. Darner was last seen in company with an officer of rank on the road to Castelamare, whither, certainly, he determined not to follow him.

It was near nine o'clock when he got home to report himself unsuccessful, to meet dark looks from his wife and daughter, and sit down alone to a comfortless dinner, chagrined and disconcerted.

Lady Lyle tried to interest him by relating the news of Tony Butler's accession to fortune; but the re-heated mutton and the half-cold entrÉes were too trying to leave any portion of his nature open to such topics, and he sulkily muttered something about the folly of “having snubbed the young fellow,”—a taunt Lady Lyle resented by rising and leaving him to his own reflections.

And now to turn to Skeff Darner. I am forced to confess, and I do not make the confession without a certain pain, that our gifted friend had not that amount of acceptance with the Ministers of the King that his great talents and his promise might be supposed to have inspired; nor had he succeeded in acquiring for the country he represented the overwhelming influence he believed to be her due. When, therefore, he drove to Caraffa's house, the Prince frankly told him, what certainly was true, that he had affairs far too weighty on his mind to enter upon that small question H. M.'s ChargÉ d'Affaires desired to discuss. “Try Carini,” said he, “the Minister of Grace and Justice; he looks after the people who break the law.” Skeff grew angry, and the Minister bowed him out. He went in succession to some five or six others, all occupied, all overwhelmed with cares, troubles, and anxieties. At last, by a mere accident, he chanced upon Filangieri going off to wait on the King; he was accompanied by a small man, in a very gorgeous uniform, studded over with stars and decorations.

In a few hurried words Skeff told how his friend, a man of rank and fortune, had been seduced by some stupid representations to take service with Garibaldi, and that it was all-important to rescue him from such evil associations, and restore him at once to his friends and country.

“Where is he?”

“Wherever Garibaldi may be,—I can't tell.”

“He's nearer than we like,” said the other, with a faint smile. “Are you sure your friend will return with you, even if you should track him out?”

“I think I can answer for him. I am almost certain that I can.”

“Can you answer for Garibaldi, too?—will he give him up?”

“I believe Garibaldi cares a great deal for the good opinion of England; and when he sees me, her Majesty's—”

“Yes, yes, I can understand that. Well, I have no time to give you for more consideration of the matter; but I 'll do better. I'll give you this gentleman,—my aide-decamp, Colonel the Count M'Caskey; he'll pass you through our lines, and go, as flag of truce, to the head-quarters of the rebels. The whole thing is a blunder, and I am doing exceedingly wrong; but here we are, making one mistake after another every day, and all regularity and order are totally forgotten.” Turning to M'Caskey, he took him aside for a few seconds and spoke eagerly and rapidly to him, and then, once more shaking Skeff's hand, he wished him well through his adventure and drove off.

“Whenever you have all in readiness, sir,” said M'Cas-key, slightly raising his hat,—“and I hope your carriage is a comfortable one,—take me up at the Aquila d' Oro, two doors from the CafÉ di Spagno;” uttering the words in a tone of such positive command that Skeffy had only to accede; and, coldly bowing to each other, they separated.