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 "You've already done that once," she remonstrated. "The mercy of the court is worn out. To prison you go, Mr. Fallon! And you are sentenced to a week of tea and cakes!"

"It would be far more merciful to sentence me to swift death," he answered. "Please have me drawn and quartered, Miss Lynde. I ask it as the last favor!"

She shook her head unrelentingly.

"You have heard the court's decision," she said. "But meanwhile punishment is—what do you say?—delayed?"

"Revoked!"

"No, delayed. And so you can tell me of the important matters you spoke of."

"Thank you." Miles seated himself cross-legged on the ground and produced a slip of paper from his