this time the man's disreputable secret trickled out.

The first hint I had was from a tenant, who commented on the
Master's stay, and yet more on his security; for this tenant was a
Jacobitish sympathiser, and had lost a son at Culloden, which gave
him the more critical eye. "There is one thing," said he, "that I
cannot but think strange; and that is how he got to Cockermouth."

"To Cockermouth?" said I, with a sudden memory of my first wonder
on beholding the man disembark so point-de-vice after so long a
voyage.

"Why, yes," says the tenant, "it was there he was picked up by
Captain Crail. You thought he had come from France by sea? And so
we all did."

I turned this news a little in my head, and then carried it to Mr.
Henry. "Here is an odd circumstance," said I, and told him.

"What matters how he came, Mackellar, so long as he is here?"
groans Mr. Henry.

"No, sir," said I, "but think again! Does not this smack a little
of some Government connivance? You know how much we have wondered
already at the man's security."

"Stop," said Mr. Henry. "Let me think of this." And as he
thought, there came that grim smile upon his face that was a little
like the Master's. "Give me paper," said he. And he sat without
another word and wrote to a gentleman of his acquaintance - I will