A Mysterious Young Man

"What do you mean to do with him?" he asked.

"Send some of my people to take him to his home, and as soon as he is sufficiently recovered to stand his trial for attempted murder--"

"For God's sake, Sir Everard!" faintly moaned the wounded man.

"Ah, you audacious villain, you can supplicate now! If I let you off this time, my life would not be worth an hour's purchase."

"What did he call you?" asked the boy, with sudden, sharp anxiety in his tone. "Whose life have I saved?"

"I am Sir Everard Kingsland, of Kingsland Court," the baronet answered. "And you are--who?"

"Sir Everard Kingsland! And I have saved your life!"

"For which Heaven be praised! It is a very pleasant world, this, and I have no desire just yet to leave it. Pray tell me the name of my preserver!"

"Never mind my name; it is of no consequence who I am. I have a long journey before me; I am very weary and footsore, and it is time I was on my way."

"Weary and footsore?" repeated the baronet. "Nay--then all the more need we should not part. Come home with me and rest--to-night, at least. I owe you a heavy debt, and I should like to pay a little of it."

"You owe me nothing!" His eyes gleamed under his hat and his teeth clinched as he spoke. "Nothing, Sir Everard Kingsland! Let us say good-bye. I must reach Worrel by sunrise."