oke somewhat more
courteously.

"Necessity forces me, sir, to accept the offer of your chaise for my--
for reasons of my own," he added, hastily. "I will make use of it on
condition that you allow me to pay any--"

"Good heavens, sir!" exclaimed Brace, as haughtily now as the stranger,
"give me credit for wishing to act as should one gentleman towards
another whom he sees with his jibboom--absurd!--whom he encounters in
distress--I beg pardon, I mean in--in a strait," exclaimed Brace,
desperately, for his nautical imagery did not find much favour. "I am
only a simple officer in the navy, and no doubt a sea life makes me
somewhat rude, but my offers of service are genuine, not mercenary."

The stranger bowed, and turned to his daughter, who was now standing at
his side.

"Take down that portmanteau," exclaimed Brace to the post-boy.

"Yes, sor!" And after a good deal of grunting, unbuckling, and lifting
it was placed by the road side.

"If you will allow me," said Brace, "I will see that the damaged chaise
is sent back to its owner."

He turned then to hand the lady into the vehicle, but he was motioned
back: not, though, without receiving from her a faint smile of thanks.

"My daughter needs no assistance further than I can render," was the
stern response to Brace's offer. "Your handkerchief, sir!"

Brace took the handkerchief handed to him, as if the donor were about to
strike him down. Then he drew back as father and daughter entered the
chaise, so that he did not catch the order given to the post-boy. Then
there was a stiff salutation from the gentleman; a slight bow from the
lady; and the horses had started, leaving Brace, bareheaded, handsome,
and flushed, standing in the road, till, suddenly the front windows were
dashed down, the door partly opened, and, evidently suffering from some
strong emotion, the face of the gentleman appeared to be turned the next
moment towards the post-boy, as he roared, in a voice of thunder:
"Stop!"

Book 2, Chapter III.

ANOTHER ENCOUNTER.

"What now?" grumbled the post-boy, as he turned in his saddle, and then,
in obedience to the gesticulations directed at him, pulled up very
slowly, and not until he had traversed nearly a hundred yards of road.
Flinging down the steps, the gentleman alighted, half dragged his
daughter from her seat, so rudely, indeed, that she nearly fell. Then
drawing her arm tightly through his own, he walked back to the injured
post-boy a