with unabated
energy and a degree of strength that seemed inexhaustible. Greatly
interested in the event, I had at first watched the contending parties
with anxious attention, but, perceiving that the efforts they were
making did not produce any visible effects upon them, and that the
struggle was likely to be a protracted one, I took advantage of the
opportunity to open a letter from my sister, which I had received just
as I was leaving the house. I was sorry to find, on perusing it, that my
father had been suffering from an inflammatory attack, brought on by
a cold which he had caught in returning from a visit to a sick
parishioner, through a pouring rain. A postscript from my mother,
however, added that I need not make myself in the least uneasy, as the
apothecary assured her that my father was going on as well as possible,
and would probably be quite restored in the course of a week or so. On
observing the date of the letter I found I ought to have received it the
day before. Arguing from this (on the "no-news-being-good-news" system)
~98~~that I should have heard again if anything had gone wrong, I
dismissed the subject from my mind, and was reading Fanny's account of
a juvenile party she had been at in the neighbourhood, when my attention
was roused by Coleman, who, laying his hand on my shoulder, said:

"Look out, Frank, it won't be long now before we shall see who's best
man; the work's beginning to tell".

Thus invoked, I raised my eyes, and perceived that a change had come
over the aspect of affairs while I had been engaged with my letter.
Oaklands and Lawless were still rowing with the greatest energy, but it
appeared to me that their strokes were drawn with less and less vigour
each succeeding time, while their flushed faces, and heavy breathing,
proved that the severe labour they had undergone had not been without
its effect. The only visible difference between them was, that Lawless,
from his superior training, had not, as a jocky would say, "turned
a hair," while the perspiration hung in big drops upon the brow of
Oaklands, and the knotted, swollen veins of his hands stood out like
tightly strained cordage.

"Hold hard!" shouted Lawless. "I say, Harry," he continued, as soon as
they left off rowing, "how are you getting on?"

"I have been cooler in my life," replied Oaklands, wiping his face with
his handkerchief.

"Well, I think it's about a drawn battle," said Lawless; "though I am
free to confess