A CHAPTER I. "Is't possible? Sits the wind in that quarter ?" Much Ado About Nothing. FTER leaving Aunt Lydia, Sir Stephen walked towards the village, at the entrance to which he suddenly came upon Captain Carthew and Leo Despard. Determined upon making restitution for the false impression he considered he had formed of Leo, Sir Stephen gave him a more friendly greeting than their short acquaintanceship demanded, and when at the turn to the Forts Leo stopped, Sir Stephen said, "If you have nothing better to do, will you stroll round, and smoke a cigar with me this evening?" "Thanks, I will," said Leo, well pleased at the change; and the Captain and Sir Stephen walked on together. "That seems a nice young fellow," Sir Stephen said, debating within himself whether or not he should speak openly to Captain Carthew. "You knew Mr. Despard, the rector, intimately, I suppose?" "What, old Antony? Ah, yes; he and I were great chums," said the Captain, regretfully. "Did he ever speak to you as to the antecedents of this adopted son of his?" The Captain gave a quick look at Sir Stephen. "I am not asking from idle curiosity, as you will presently see. I really want to unburden myself a little to you on a subject which has just caused me great annoyance. I know I may speak openly to you." The Captain, on whom the troubled tone of Sir Stephen's voice was not lost, put his arm through his companion's. "Let us turn down here," he said. "We are not so likely to be interrupted." And they walked on a little distance without either of them speaking. "Now, about this young Despard," the Captain began. "All I know of him from his uncle is this -as to anything others may say, well, I put it in the same list with what he says of himself-he was the son of a great friend of the old man's, who had got himself into a precious mess through some woman he took up with. He was a queer kind of fish, and Antony thought he had married her, and when he took charge of Leo, then a little chap in petticoats, he still believed that she was his wife, though by this time she had bolted from him, and he was furious against her; so much so, that until she died, which she did a few years after, he wouldn't even look at the child, who was the image of the mother. After her death he softened down a little, and came to see the boy, and talked about taking him home, for he'd come into some property, I fancy, when, poor fellow, he died quite suddenly of some complaint which, it seems, he'd kept to himself for years, and everything was found to be at sixes and sevens. The next of kin wrote to old Antony, and, as nothing was found of a marriage certificate, or any papers to clear up the matter, the poor little beggar had no claim upon anybody. Antony offered to adopt him, and they were only too willing to be ridded of the burden. Mind you," added the Captain, finding Sir Stephen still silent," if ever any |