Cashel Byron's Profession

"Cashel," she said, "we are the silliest lovers in the world, I

believe--we know nothing about it. Are you really fond of me?"

She recovered herself immediately, and made no further demonstration

of the kind. He remained shy, and was so evidently anxious to go,

that she presently asked him to leave her for a while, though she

was surprised to feel a faint pang of disappointment when he

consented.

On leaving the house he hurried to the address which his mother had

given him: a prodigious building in Westminster, divided into

residential flats, to the seventh floor of which he ascended in a

lift. As he stepped from it he saw Lucian Webber walking away from

him along a corridor. Obeying a sudden impulse, he followed, and

overtook him just as he was entering a room. Lucian, finding that

some one was resisting his attempt to close the door, looked out,

recognized Cashel, turned white, and hastily retreated into the

apartment, where, getting behind a writing-table, he snatched a

revolver from a drawer. Cashel recoiled, amazed and frightened, with

his right arm up as if to ward off a blow.

"Hullo!" he cried. "Drop that d--d thing, will you? If you don't,

I'll shout for help."

"If you approach me I will fire," said Lucian, excitedly. "I will

teach you that your obsolete brutality is powerless against the

weapons science has put into the hands of civilized men. Leave my

apartments. I am not afraid of you; but I do not choose to be

disturbed by your presence."

"Confound your cheek," said Cashel, indignantly; "is that the way

you receive a man who comes to make a friendly call on you?"

"Friendly NOW, doubtless, when you see that I am well protected."

Cashel gave a long whistle. "Oh," he said, "you thought I came to

pitch into you. Ha! ha! And you call that science--to draw a pistol

on a man. But you daren't fire it, and well you know it. You'd

better put it up, or you may let it off without intending to: I

never feel comfortable when I see a fool meddling with firearms. I

came to tell you that I'm going to be married to your cousin. Ain't

you glad?"

Lucian's face changed. He believed; but he said, obstinately, "I

don't credit that statement. It is a lie."

This outraged Cashel. "I tell you again," he said, in a menacing

tone, "that your cousin is engaged to me. Now call me a liar, and

hit me in the face, if you dare. Look here," he added, taking a

leather case from his pocket, and extracting from it a bank note,

"I'll give you that twenty-pound note if you will hit me one blow."