"Hark! There are more voices!"
exclaimed Mrs. Horsfall. "They seem raised
in anger."

"In amusement, rather, if I mistake not,"
said Mr. Lileham. "But come: if you will accept
my guidance, you shall see what is passing.
They have assembled under those two large
trees. Will you permit me to show you the
way?"

Mrs. Horsfall assented. In less than ten
minutes they had reached the point indicated
by Mr. Lileham. A bright stream of
moonlight was pouring right into the recess canopied
by the twin trees, and made the singular party
therein assembled distinctly visible. It was
composed of five individuals, seated on the
curved bench, engaged in earnest and animated
discussion. In the centre might be recognised
the reverend and stately form of the Bishop
of L., immediately on whose right sat the
Bradford Dumpling, supported in his turn by
Mr. Newton Horsfall, of Cowling Priors, Herts.
On the left of the prelate might be seen the
familiar, mirth-awakening lineaments of Mr. L.,
the celebrated low comedian, flanked by the
commanding presence of Colonel Reginald
Spurrier, of the —th Hussars.

The subject of their conversation was
manifestly of the deepest interest. Of what could
they possibly be talking? And why—oh, why
this mystery? Mrs. Horsfall saw that her
companion was as puzzled as herself, and that his
countenance had become very serious indeed.

Suddenly they saw the colonel start to his
feet. A horse-tramp approached from below,
and his quick ear had been the first to catch
the sound.

"I fear we are suspected," he said aloud.
"Listen. I thought so. They are upon us
from both sides!"

And in truth, next moment, an armed horse-
patrol rode in from either side, and halted in
the front of the party beneath the trees.

"Pleasant night, gentlemen," said the first
patrol. "Curious time, though, to be sittin'
here, ain't it?"

Mr. Horsfall conceded, in the name of
himself and friends, that it might seem a curious
time, but inquired what business that was of
the officer's?

"My business is to obey orders, that's all,"
replied the man. "And one of 'em is to
perwent any gatherings at night we don't know
the meaning of. It's our duty, gentlemen,
to demand your names and ockipations,
preparatory to requesting you to move on."

"The man is right," said the bishop. "I
could have wished it otherwise, but the fault
is our own. My friend, I am a churchman. My
name is S., Doctor S., Bishop of L."

"Wery likely," was the reply. "And this
here gent" (pointing to the Dumpling) "he's
the Lord Mayor of London, I suppose?"

"Come, my man, you are mistaken," said
Colonel Spurrier, striding out into the full
moonlight. "If you are unacquainted with
the face of the reverend gentleman, perhaps
you know mine?"

He took off his hat.

"Colonel Spurrier!" cried the men,
saluting.

"This is Mr. Horsfall, a magistrate of
Hertfordshire," resumed the colonel. "My other
two friends are already known to you."

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," said the
patrol. "There was notice give, you see, of a
hillegal meeting to-night, near Brighton, and
seeing parties pinting this way, we thought we
was down upon 'em. Whatever you was
adoing here's best known to yourselves."

"Stay," said the bishop; "I feel that some
fuller explanation is needed. Whatever jesting
comments our meeting may provoke, I for one
am content to bear them, for the pleasure it has
afforded me. Have I your permission, gentlemen,
to state the facts?"

Every one consenting, the bishop continued:

"We five whom you find assembled here,
were in early youth schoolmates at an
establishment situated at no great distance from
the spot on which we stand. Twin-Tree-lane,
as I find it is still called, was a favourite half-
holiday resort. Here we discussed our school
affairs, or speculated upon the wide uncertain
future that awaited us in the tumult of the world.
The death of our excellent master caused the
sudden dispersion of the school, and it was on
the evening before the general departure that
we five, sitting together under our favourite
trees, entered into a solemn agreement to meet,
if God permitted, that day thirty years, at the
same spot at midnight, with the purpose of
declaring how Providence had hitherto dealt
with us in our several ways of life, and
comparing our actual experiences with the brilliant
hopes of boyhood.

"So far asunder have our duties separated
us (I myself for some years presided over a
colonial see, and my friend, Colonel Spurrier,
has served in India) that for the whole period
of thirty years no two of us have ever met
together, nor, indeed, so far as I am aware, held
communication of any sort. It was a doubt
with me whether every member of the party
had not long since forgotten this boyish
compact. There were also the difficulties that
might have arisen, if remembered, in keeping
it. But the solemnity with which it was made
had left upon my mind, as it did upon others,
an abiding impression. My pledge had been
given and never withdrawn. I thought of the
possibility of one of us, at least, faithful to his
word, groping his way hither in the faint hope
of grasping an old friend's hand, and finding
only darkness and a void. I was altogether
wrong and mistrustful; here we are, all five,
grateful for many mercies, cordially rejoicing
to have met again; and, if our vocations in
life have been widely diverse, I may, I think,
say with truth, that we have wrought in them
with honesty and singleness of purpose, without
wrong to any, in thought, word, or deed.
You are satisfied, my friends?"

The officers bowed, and apologising for their
interference, prepared to move on.

"Not a word," said the bishop; "you have