ed, and all the world tired and
silent, there is HE silent, but untired--cutting, cutting, cutting. You
enter, you get your meat to your liking, you depart; and, quite unmoved,
on, on he goes, reaping ceaselessly the Great Harvest of Beef. You would
fancy that if Passion ever failed to conquer, it had in vain assailed
the calm bosom of THAT MAN. I doubt it, and would give much to know his
history.

Who knows what furious Aetna-flames are raging underneath the surface of
that calm flesh-mountain--who can tell me that that calmness itself is
not DESPAIR?

*****

The reader, if he does not now understand why it was that Mr. Hayes
agreed to drink the Corporal's proffered beer, had better just read the
foregoing remarks over again, and if he does not understand THEN, why,
small praise to his brains. Hayes could not bear that Mr. Bullock should
have a chance of seeing, and perhaps making love to Mrs. Catherine in
his absence; and though the young woman never diminished her coquetries,
but, on the contrary, rather increased them in his presence, it was
still a kind of dismal satisfaction to be miserable in her company.

On this occasion, the disconsolate lover could be wretched to his
heart's content; for Catherine had not a word or a look for him, but
bestowed all her smiles upon the handsome stranger who owned the black
horse. As for poor Tummas Bullock, his passion was never violent; and
he was content in the present instance to sigh and drink beer. He sighed
and drank, sighed and drank, and drank again, until he had swallowed so
much of the Corporal's liquor, as to be induced to accept a guinea from
his purse also; and found himself, on returning to reason and sobriety,
a soldier of Queen Anne's.

But oh! fancy the agonies of Mr. Hayes when, seated with the Corporal's
friends at one end of the kitchen, he saw the Captain at the place of
honour, and the smiles which the fair maid bestowed upon him; when, as
she lightly whisked past him with the Captain's supper, she, pointing
to the locket that once reposed on the breast of the Dutch lady at the
Brill, looked archly on Hayes and said, "See, John, what his Lordship
has given me;" and when John's face became green and purple with
rage and jealousy, Mrs. Catherine laughed ten times louder, and cried
"Coming, my Lord," in a voice of shrill triumph, that bored through the
soul of Mr. John Hayes and left him gasping for breath.

On Catherine's other lov