the reader, that immediately after Lord Hopton's defeat, Major
Monthault was ostentatiously pointed out as an object of Parliamentary
vengeance, and thrown into confinement. This was done to give him credit
with the Loyalists, preparatory to his being sent to Oxford, where it
was proposed he should act as a spy, and convey intelligence to the
beleaguering army, specifying also such of the inhabitants as were too
zealous and determined to make safe citizens in the projected
commonwealth. He was soon permitted to break from durance, and arriving
at Oxford under the character of a confessor in the Royal cause, he was
kindly welcomed by Dr. Beaumont. He brought Constantia the first certain
intelligence that Eustace was alive, and had passed through the dangers
of a disastrous campaign with little injury.

The voice of fame, alike busy in circulating good and evil tidings, soon
informed the family of the public censure which Lord Hopton cast on that
unfortunate fugitive, and Monthault would have gained great credit with
the Beaumonts for not having been the first to disclose it, had not his
own conduct been implicated in the same accusation. Isabel eagerly clung
to the visible proofs of his loyalty as an implicit evidence that her
brother had been most basely aspersed. "The misery of these times," said
she, "is surely sufficient; we need not aggravate the misfortunes of our
fellow-sufferers, or the cruelty of our enemies, by crediting the
calumnies of malice, or the unfounded fabrications of busy tatlers. Our
dear Eustace is accused of treason, and his friend and constant
associate is involved in the same charge. Yet if imprisonment and
forfeiture of his estates are not testimonials of loyalty, where shall
we seek more certain attestations? After having fought and bled for his
King, he breaks from captivity and seeks an asylum among us at Oxford.
Equally inconsistent is the charge aimed at my gallant brother. Dearest
Constantia, surely you cannot believe Eustace to be a traitor; yet your
cold looks and marked indifference to poor Monthault, and the care with
which you avoid your lover's name, lest his friend should attempt his
exculpation, indicate, that either you suffer this futile charge to
dwell too much upon your mind, or that you mistook the mere attachment
of kindred for devoted affection."

"Isabel," returned Constantia, with a look of mild expostulation, "I
know not how far to trust rumour, but this I know, that th