f I don't get him six weeks of
the treadmill my name is not Tom Sneezum."

The man made a stout resistance, but at last was overpowered, and
carried into the hall. I helped to repel the others, and as they were
tolerably civil, now that the ringleader was gone, I contented myself
with walking them to the very end of my boundaries, and gave them
notice, that if they ventured to return, I would treat them exactly as I
had done their chief. This whole business did not take up more than an
hour; and before going home, I walked across to Major Slowtops, the
nearest magistrate, and luckily found him at home. He promised to
trounce the fellow handsomely when I brought him; and telling him I
would be back with the culprit and the witnesses in half an hour, I
returned in no little triumph to Goslingbury.

"Where is the vagabond?" I exclaimed, when I got into the house.

"He's been gone this hour, sir," said Thomas, hardly able to keep in a
laugh.

"Gone! who let him go?"

"Why, he ordered the carriage, sir, and him and Miss Martha is off for
London."

"Are you mad, Thomas?--what is it you're speaking of? Where is the
rascally leveller of the railway?"

"Lor', sir--don't you know? It was only Mr William at one of his tricks.
The moment he took off the spectacles we all knew him, and Miss Martha
seemed so pleased"--

"Did she?"

"Oh, yes! and Mr William--but they say he's Captain Morgan now--laughed
so. It was certainly a rare good surprise--wasn't it, sir?"

I rushed into my study. "Let her go!" I said, "the false, deceitful
Hottentot, or Hindoo, or whatever she is; she's as black as my hat, and
a disgrace to my old uncle." So I stood very quietly, brooding over my
misfortune--if a misfortune it was--and revenging myself by tearing into
a million pieces the beginning and the end of my romantic novel.

* * * * *

"Here we are, Sneezum, my boy!" said old Morgan, on the Friday, at about
two o'clock; "I've come on before, to tell you to get into good-humour;
for perhaps you've forgotten the invitations you gave us all for
to-day."

"What has become of the young woman?" I asked, with a very disdainful
look; "my uncle's unowned little girl?"

"Do you mean William's wife?" inquired Mr Morgan; "they were married
this morning, at St George's, Hanover Square, and will take you for an
hour or two on their way to the North."

"I think, sir, as her guardian--not to say her cousin"----

"The