to my revenge. Neither shall Emily Brown be
exposed to the mercenary solicitations of a scoundrel, odious in her
eyes, and contemptible in everybody else's: nor will I tamely submit
to the clandestine attacks of a base umbrella-maker.

'Sir. From Great Winglebury church, a footpath leads through four
meadows to a retired spot known to the townspeople as Stiffun's
Acre.' [Mr. Trott shuddered.] 'I shall be waiting there alone, at
twenty minutes before six o'clock to-morrow morning. Should I be
disappointed in seeing you there, I will do myself the pleasure of
calling with a horsewhip.

'HORACE HUNTER.

'PS. There is a gunsmiths in the High-street; and they won't sell
gunpowder after dark--you understand me.

'PPS. You had better not order your breakfast in the morning until
you have met me. It may be an unnecessary expense.'

'Desperate-minded villain! I knew how it would be!' ejaculated the
terrified Trott. 'I always told father, that once start me on this
expedition, and Hunter would pursue me like the Wandering Jew. It's bad
enough as it is, to marry with the old people's commands, and without the
girl's consent; but what will Emily think of me, if I go down there
breathless with running away from this infernal salamander? What _shall_
I do? What _can_ I do? If I go back to the city, I'm disgraced for
ever--lose the girl--and, what's more, lose the money too. Even if I did
go on to the Browns' by the coach, Hunter would be after me in a
post-chaise; and if I go to this place, this Stiffun's Acre (another
shudder), I'm as good as dead. I've seen him hit the man at the
Pall-mall shooting-gallery, in the second button-hole of the waistcoat,
five times out of every six, and when he didn't hit him there, he hit him
in the head.' With this consolatory reminiscence Mr. Alexander Trott
again ejaculated, 'What shall I do?'

Long and weary were his reflections, as, burying his face in his hand, he
sat, ruminating on the best course to be pursued. His mental
direction-post pointed to London. He thought of the 'governor's' anger,
and the loss of the fortune which the paternal Brown had promised the
paternal Trott his daughter should contribute to the coffers of his son.
Then the words 'To Brown's' were legibly inscribed on the said
direction-post, but Horace Hunter's denunciation rung in his ears;-