up to him mentally had something to do with it.

“You’ll come to-day, won’t you?” I said, referring to the experiments.

“Of course I will, old boy; but,” he added, with a smile, “only on one condition.”

“What may that be?”

“That you don’t bother Bella with minute details.”

Of course I promised not to say a word unless asked for explanations, and after breakfast we all went to a part of the grounds which I wished to bring under cultivation. It was at that time encumbered with several large trees, old roots, and a number of boulders.

“Come along with us, Lancey,” I said to the groom, who was also my laboratory assistant, and whom I met in the stable-yard, the scene of his memorable blowing-up. “I am about to try the effect of an explosive, and wish you to understand the details.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Lancey, with a respectful touch of his cap; “I must say, sir, if you’ll allow me, I never knowed any one like you, sir, for goin’ into details except one, and that one—”

“Ah, yes, I know, that was your friend the Scotch boy,” said I, interrupting; but Lancey was a privileged servant, and would not be interrupted.

“Yes, sir,” he resumed, “the Scotch boy Sandy. We was at school together in Edinburgh, where I got the most o’ my edication, and I never did see such a boy, sir, for goin’ into—”

“Yes, yes, Lancey, I know; but I haven’t time to talk about him just now. We are going to the bit of waste ground in the hollow; follow us there.”

I was obliged to cut him short, because this Scotch hero of his was a subject on which he could not resist dilating on the slightest encouragement.

Arrived at the waste ground, we met the manager of a neighbouring mine, who was deeply learned in everything connected with blasting.

“I have brought my mother and sister, you see, Mr Jones,” said I, as we approached. “They don’t quite believe in the giant-power which is under your control; they seem to think that it is only a little stronger than gunpowder.”

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