And Wylder laughed again, and began to whistle very low--not, I fancy,
for want of thought, but as a sort of accompaniment thereto, for he
suddenly said--

'And where is he staying?'

'Who?--Lake?'

'Yes.'

'I don't know; but I think he mentioned Larkins's house, didn't he? I'm
not quite sure.'

'I suppose he this I'm made of money. By Jove! if he wants to borrow any
I'll surprise him, the cur; I'll talk to him; ha, ha, ha!'

And Wylder chuckled angrily, and the small change in his pocket tinkled
fiercely, as his eye glanced on the graceful captain, who was
entertaining the ladies, no doubt, very agreeably in the distance.




CHAPTER XI.

IN WHICH LAKE UNDER THE TREES OF BRANDON, AND I IN MY CHAMBER, SMOKE OUR
NOCTURNAL CIGARS.