e privacy. As he took
his seat opposite me I marked that he had grown heavier and more browned.
But his eye had the same unfathomable mystery in it as of yore. And
first I upbraided him for not having writ me.

"I took you for one who glories in correspondence, captain," said I; "and
I did not think you could be so unfaithful. I directed twice to you in
Mr. Orchardson's care."

"Orchardson died before I had made one voyage," he replied, "and the
Betsy changed owners. But I did not forget you, Richard, and was
resolved but now not to leave Maryland until I had seen you. But I burn
to hear of you," he added. "I have had an inkling of your story from the
landlord. So your grandfather is dead, and that blastie, your uncle, of
whom you told me on the John, is in possession."

He listened to my narrative keenly, but with many interruptions. And
when I was done, he sighed.

"You are always finding friends, Richard," said he; "no matter what your
misfortunes, they are ever double discounted. As for me; I am like
Fulmer in Mr. Cumberland's 'West Indian': 'I have beat through every
quarter of the compass; I have bellowed for freedom; I have offered to
serve my country; I have'--I am engaging to betray it. No, Scotland is
no longer my country, and so I cannot betray her. It is she who has
betrayed me."

He fell into a short mood of dejection. And, indeed, I could not but
reflect that much of the character fitted him like a jacket. Not the
betrayal of his country. He never did that, no matter how roundly they
accused him of it afterward.

To lift him, I cried:

"You were one of my first friends, Captain Paul" (I could not stomach the
Jones); "but for you I should now be a West Indian, and a miserable one,
the slave of some unmerciful hidalgo. Here's that I may live to repay
you!"

"And while we are upon toasts," says he, bracing immediately, "I give you
the immortal Miss Manners! Her beauty has dwelt unfaded in my memory
since I last beheld her, aboard the Betsy." Remarking the pain in my
face, he added, with a concern which may have been comical: "And she is
not married?"

"Unless she is lately gone to Gretna, she is not," I replied, trying to
speak lightly.

"Alack! I knew it," he exclaimed. "And if there's any prophecy in my
bones, she'll be Mrs. Carvel one of these days."

"Well captain," I said abruptly, "the wheel has gone around since I saw
you. Now it is you who are the gentleman, while I am a factor. Is it