voice has convinced me of that."

At that instant the song ceased. Errington turned and regarded him
steadfastly.

"Are YOU hit, George?" he said softly, with a forced smile.

Lorimer's face flushed, but he met his friend's eyes frankly.

"I am no poacher, old fellow," he answered in the same quiet
accents; "I think you know that. If that girl's mind is as lovely as
her face, I say, go in and win!"

Sir Philip smiled. His brow cleared and an expression of relief
settled there. The look of gladness was unconscious; but Lorimer saw
it at once and noted it.

"Nonsense!" he said in a mirthful undertone. "How can I go in and
win, as you say? What am I to do? I can't go up to that window and
speak to her,--she might take me for a thief."

"You look like a thief," replied Lorimer, surveying his friend's
athletic figure, clad in its loose but well-cut yachting suit of
white flannel, ornamented with silver anchor buttons, and taking a
comprehensive glance from the easy pose of the fine head and
handsome face, down to the trim foot with the high and well-arched
instep, "very much like a thief? I wonder I haven't noticed it
before. Any London policeman would arrest you on the mere fact of
your suspicious appearance."