ly as you have for the King, I
would not bear to hear you talk about Mr. Eustace Evellin's redeeming
his honour before he lost it. Why, it was all a mistake of the old
Lord's when the cowards and traitors drove him distracted; and so he
thought Mr. Eustace one of them, because now and then they tippled
together. Aye, he has been sorry enough for it since: but Generals
should be careful what they say, for Lord Hopton ruined one of the
fairest young gentlemen that ever was born."

The Colonel motioned with his hand that Jobson should proceed with his
narrative. "Does Your Honour groan through pain?" inquired the latter;
"let me lay you in an easier posture. Did you never hear how Mr. Eustace
fought at Pendennis-Castle; when old John Arundel of Terrice thanked him
before all the garrison?"

"Thank heaven!" exclaimed Evellin, "that was a public honour!"

"Tush! that was nothing," continued Jobson; "every soldier knew already
what stuff Mr. Eustace was made of. Old John called him the hero of
Lancashire. After the castle had surrendered, I went with him into
Wales; and wherever there was a little fighting we were at it: and when
there was none, we lived just as we could; for I did not care about
Madge Jobson, and Mr. Eustace said he could not go home because his
father had cursed him."

"No, no, no," said Evellin; "he never cursed him."

"I wish," cried Jobson, "the poor gentleman had known that; it might
have saved his life."

"Is he dead?" exclaimed the father, in an agony that lifted his
debilitated frame from its recumbent posture.

"Shot in cold blood after the taking of Pembroke-Castle."

"By whose order?"

"A devil's-born traitor, as bad as those who cut off the King's head;
Lord Bellingham they call him."

Evellin clenched his fist; his teeth were set; his eyes rolled in
terrific wildness; Jobson thought him in a fit, and advanced to support
him. But with the reckless strength of frenzy, the distracted father
grasped the tottering veteran. No object but Bellingham presented itself
to his perverted imagination; and in the fury of rage, blended with
anguish, he redoubled his blows on Jobson, exclaiming, "Accursed
Bellingham, give me back my son!"

The vehemence of the Colonel's execrations brought Arthur de Vallance to
the assistance of Jobson, who, in terrified accents, declared the good
gentleman was suddenly gone mad, and he could not hold him. It might be
expected, that the entrance, at that instant,