Esquire, was gone to
his seat at Laughton. According to my customary tactics of marching at
once to the seat of action, I therefore made direct for Havre, instead
of crossing from Calais, and I suppose I shall find our young gentleman
engaged in the slaughter of hares and partridges. You see it is a good
sign that he can leave London. Keep up your spirits, my dear friend. If
Perce has been really duped and taken in,--as all you mothers are so apt
to fancy,--rely upon an old soldier to defeat the enemy and expose
the ruse. But if, after all, the girl is such as he describes and
believes,--innocent, artless, and worthy his affection,--oh, then I
range myself, with your own good heart, upon his side. Never will I
run the risk of unsettling a man's whole character for life by wantonly
interfering with his affections. But there we are agreed.

In a few hours I shall be with our dear boy, and his whole heart
will come out clear and candid as when it beat under his midshipman's
true-blue. In a day or two I shall make him take me to town, to
introduce me to the whole nest of them. Then I shall report progress.
Adieu, till then! Kind regards to your poor sister. I think we shall
have a mild winter. Not one warning twinge as yet of the old rheumatism.
Ever your devoted old friend and preux chevalier,

H. GREVILLE.

The captain had completed his letter, sipped his soda-water, and was
affixing to his communication his seal, when he heard the rattle of a
post-chaise without. Fancying it was the one he had ordered, he went
to the open window which looked on the street; but the chaise contained
travellers, only halting to change horses. Somewhat to his surprise,
and a little to his chagrin,--for the captain did not count on finding
company at the Hall,--he heard one of the travellers in the chaise ask
the distance to Laughton. The countenance of the questioner was
not familiar to him. But leaving the worthy captain to question the
landlord, without any satisfactory information, and to hasten the chaise
for himself, we accompany the travellers on their way to Laughton. There
were but two,--the proper complement of a post-chaise,--and they were
both of the ruder sex. The elder of the two was a man of middle age, but
whom the wear and tear of active life had evidently advanced towards the
state called elderly. But there was still abundant life in his quick,
dark eye; and that mercurial youthfulness of character which in some
happy co