"Come to me to-morrow at ten, Major," said the Commander, "I will have your first instructions, but remember absolute secrecy.

This is a very grave affair to both of us--your coming employment." "The tide of life is bearing me on, with a devilish rapidity, with favoring gales," the Major reflected.

But beyond the clouds veiling the future he saw no farther shore.
In the dim watches of the night for a week past, Simpson, secretly busied with preparing Hugh Johnstone's flitting, was perplexed at the sound of shuffling feet and whispered voices in the master's rooms opening into the splendid gardens.

"Who the devil has he there?
Some woman!" mused the old veteran servant.

Simpson had his own little "private life" to wind up, and so he was charitably inclined.