Pembroke called out again: "Make haste, man, and go on!"

The footsteps paused, and Pembroke looked up, as one does when a strange
presence comes into the room. He saw, standing near the door, a tall and
comely young man, whose carriage betokened him not ill-born. The
stranger advanced and bowed gravely. "Pardon me, sir," he said, "but I
fear I am awkward in thus intruding. The man showed me up the stair and
bade me enter. He said that I should find here Sir Arthur Pembroke, upon
whom I bear letters from friends of his in the North."

"Sir," said Pembroke, rising and advancing, "you are very welcome, and I
ask pardon for my unwitting speech."

"I come at this hour and at this place," said the newcomer, "for reasons
which may seem good a little later. My name is John Law, of Edinboro',
sir."

All those present arose.

"Sir," responded Pembroke, "I am delighted to have your name. I know of
the acquaintance between your father and my own. These are friends of
mine, and I am delighted to name ye to each other. Mr. Charles
Castleton; Mr. Edward Wilson. We are all here to kill the ancient enemy,
Time. 'Tis an hour of night when one gains an appetite for one thing or
another, cards or cold joint. I know not why we should not have a bit of
both?"

"With your permission, I shall be glad to join ye at either," said John
Law. "I have still the appetite of a traveler--in faith, rather a better
appetite than most travelers may claim, for I swear I've had no more to