goodly merchant ship, and many a stalwart man-of-war; thus in a way an object-lesson constantly before the eyes of England's shrewdest politician. No one knew better than Wynn the political quicksands that surrounded him. He could afford to make no mistakes; he must overcome Great Britain's latent distrust, which permeated even into his own party. To make his position more sure, he had determined on a series of secret summer conferences, at which he was resolved to say little, but to learn much. He had invited colleagues on whom he could depend, and others of whom he was not certain. On no occasion would any of these meetings assume the seriousness pertaining to a Council of State. Guests were invited in batches of not less than four or more than ten. The length of their stay was definitely fixed, and the reason for the visit was always that everyone needed now and then a sniff of the salt sea.
In the earlier part of the year Wynn had been in a quandary regarding this series of gatherings. His own summer residence was situated on the east coast of Scotland, and was merely a very commonplace marine villa, without either the room or the servants to take care of more than one or two guests at a time. Another objection was the
