rought a little money with him, and carried on
his trade, but in a poor way. He was a widower; by this time his daughter,
a widow too, kept house for him, and his son and he laboured together at
their vocation. Meanwhile your father had publicly owned his conversion
just before King Charles's death (in whom our Church had much such another
convert), was reconciled to my Lord Viscount Castlewood, and married, as
you know, to his daughter.

"It chanced that the younger Pastoureau, going with a piece of brocade to
the mercer, who employed him, on Ludgate Hill, met his old rival coming
out of an ordinary there. Pastoureau knew your father at once, seized him
by the collar, and upbraided him as a villain, who had seduced his
mistress, and afterwards deserted her and her son. Mr. Thomas Esmond also
recognized Pastoureau at once, besought him to calm his indignation, and
not to bring a crowd round about them; and bade him to enter into the
tavern, out of which he had just stepped, when he would give him any
explanation. Pastoureau entered, and heard the landlord order the drawer
to show Captain Thomas to a room; it was by his Christian name that your
father was familiarly called at his tavern haunts, which, to say the
truth, were none of the most reputable.

"I must tell you that Captain Thomas, or my lord viscount afterwards, was
never at a loss for a story, and could cajole a woman or a dun with a
volubility, and an air of simplicity at the same time, of which many a
creditor of his has been the dupe. His tales used to gather verisimilitude
as he went on with them. He strung together fact after fact with a
wonderful rapidity and coherence. It required, saving your presence, a
very long habit of acquaintance with your father to know when his lordship
was l----,--telling the truth or no.

"He told me with rueful remorse when he was ill--for the fear of death set
him instantly repenting, and with shrieks of laughter when he was well,
his lordship having a very great sense of humour--how in half an hour's
time, and before a bottle was drunk, he had completely succeeded in biting
poor Pastoureau. The seduction he owned too: that he could not help: he
was quite ready with tears at a moment's warning, and shed them profusely
to melt his credulous listener. He wept for your mother even more than
Pastoureau did, who cried very heartily, poor fellow, as my lord informed
me; he swore upon his honour that he had twice sent money to Bru