Still he did not open his eyes or move his lips. "Shall we try a shout to rouse him?" asked the Squire, taking a full breath.

"Why, that's old Grange speaking!" thought Archer. Grange and his daughters, and Ellis, all at my bedside!"

The fancy tickled him so much that he could hardly refrain from betraying his consciousness. Still he did contrive to refrain, being determined to penetrate the mystery before he looked up. He could not, however, quite prevent a slight motion of the facial nerves.

"There! he is awakening," said quick-eyed Polly.

"The Captain do look uncommon like himself!" observed Tom Crocket, offering his modest testimony from behind Mr. Eagle.

This occasioned the sorest trial to Archer's curiosity that he had yet experienced. Tom's voice was not to be mistaken, and it seemed to place beyond a doubt the correctness of his impression that he was at home and in his bed. He could hold out no longer, and so, with the utmost caution, he contrived to raise his eyelids, almost imperceptibly, but enough to catch some glimpse of his whereabouts.

"It happened just at the last moment, when we thought him quite safe. He struck his head somehow on the rock. Duff was in the way, and we afterwards thought he must have touched Calvert in his gambols, and made him fall when he reached the ground."

This was said by Marian, in answer to a whispered question of Wilmotte's, and it at once recalled the whole adventure on the cliff to Archer's mind. He understood that he must have fainted or been stunned somehow, and that these, his kind friends, were now waiting

for his recovery in some room to which they had carried him. He would not keep them longer in suspense, and yet, too, it was delicious to lie quiet and to think over the matter for another second or two; besides, how could he deny himself the chance of secretly noting the expression of one face his keen glance had already singled out among those around him? Edith had not spoken, but, with her hand pressed on her left side, had stood a little way off watching anxiously. She was the first to notice a ray of light shooting from under Calvert's yellow eyelashes, and not understanding it, she trembled in the intensity of her expectation.

"Ah," sighed Archer inwardly, after looking at her as much as he could without further raising his eyelids : "Of a surety she likes me."

Marian at this moment sponged his brow again with vinegar, and the good fellow's sentimental mood gave place at once to his comic vein. "A pretty girl sponging his face, and a dearer girl watching; to say nothing of the tender anxiety of all the other folks present: What luck; what a go!"

He smiled, unconsciously in pure delight, and then opening his eyes, exclaimed,

"Well, now, this is exceedingly jolly-my kind friends!"

I will not describe the start of surprise and delight which, like an electric shock, his voice occasioned. Polly Grange seemed quite beside herself, and laughed and sobbed as she had done at the foot of the cliff when Archer had reached the baby. As for the Squire, only a dread of the consequences restrained his impulse to shake Archer out of his skin in pure over-joyedness at seeing him alive again.

"Too bad, Archy, my boy! You have been quizzing us then? When did you come to yourself, pray?" asked Wilmotte, half-indignantly.

"Well, two or three minutes ago, I confess," said Archer very penitently, but it was so odd to hear you all speaking about me while I lay in bed of a morning, as I supposed, that I could not help keeping quiet just to see what would turn up; for at first I'd really no recollection of what had happened to me. So I fainted, eh?

I do feel a bit queerish in the head still."

He put his hand to his brow, as if he had a headache.

"You'll have to be quiet for a while yet, my lad," said Wilmotte, preventing an attempt his patient made to rise.

"No broken limbs, I hope?" he added, running his hand over Archer's arms and legs.

The audience took the hint and retired, with the exception of the Squire and Tom.

Edith, indeed, had disappeared before this, having slipped back and out of the room immediately after Archer's first words.

It is almost needless, I should think, to explain that she had hurried straight to the parlour-through a crowd of expectant servants, to her horror--and that there, alone and with the door shut, she enjoyed the luxury of a regular good cry. Marian, looking for her a few minutes later, caught her busy "drying up," as Polly, who followed Marian, remarked, and laughing excitedly at her own" childishness," as she said herself.

"Another symptom," thought the calm violet-eyed maiden, taking her friend's disengaged hand in both of hers.

But Polly was not able to subside yet, and so grasping her sister's arm with one hand and Edith's with the other, she made them whirl with her.

Immediately they both entered into the spirit of her movement, and round and round danced the three honest-hearted girls like children on a May-day morn

ing.

Mr. Eagle had retired to the garden to be out of the way for a while, so they were undisturbed.

When tired, they began to talk, as girls will. They were so glad, so very glad; but then had not the sly little fellow been laughing in his sleeve at them, for goodness knew how long? Ha, ha, it was very embarrassing and awkward for them. But then, what a bright idea it was; and what a wonderful strength of nerve he had shown in keeping so quiet after he was quite awake.

One could forgive it, almost, through pure admiration; and yet, indeed, the impertinent man should be made to pay for it somehow.

CHAPTER XXII.

"IF you please, Miss, the doctor has ordered tea for Captain Calvert," said Janet, the Ashcroft table-maid, coming into the parlour.

"I'll make it," cried Polly, "do let me, Mar, like a good little goodie," she added, turning to her sister, whose privilege it was to prepare tea even when their Aunt Elenor was at home.

"Very well, dear.

Remember Edith and Mr. Eagle. Make it for seven; and on the lawn table, that is, if Captain Calvert may go out. If not, in the dining

room."

Polly disappeared like a shot. She forget that Mr. Eagle should have a cup as well as the rest; that was probable!

"This reminds me, Marian, how strangely forgetful I have been of my poor brother. Vidocq, to be sure, can make his afternoon tea as well or better than I can; but Angus likes me to be with him," said Edith. "You could not have left us, dear."

"No; still I am sorry to have disappointed Angus." At any rate, it is too late now. Five o'clock, see. We can drive you up, so you needn't run off quite yet." Miss Lockart, though regretting her absence from Beechworth at the hour which her brother usually en