hither, standing
a little back from the road, surrounded by high walls; and though they
were said to be English, yet from the description given to me of the
gentleman's person by one who had noticed it, by the fact of a foreign
servant in their employ, and by the very name 'Richmouth,' assigned the
new comers, I can scarcely doubt that it is the family you seek."

"And you have not called to ascertain?"

"Pardon me, but the family so evidently shunning observation (no one but
the master himself ever seen without the walls), the adoption of another
name, too, lead me to infer that Signor Riccabocca has some strong motive
for concealment; and now, with my improved knowledge of life, I can not,
recalling all the past, but suppose that Riccabocca was not what he
appeared. Hence, I have hesitated on formally obtruding myself upon his
secrets, whatever they be, and have rather watched for some chance
occasion to meet him in his walks."

"You did right, my dear Leonard; but my reasons for seeing my old friend
forbid all scruples of delicacy, and I will go at once to his house."

"You will tell me, my lord, if I am right."

"I hope to be allowed to do so. Pray, stay at home till I return. And now,
ere I go, one question more. You indulge conjectures as to Riccabocca,
because he has changed his name--why have you dropped your own?"

"I wished to have no name," said Leonard, coloring deeply, "but that which
I could make myself."

"Proud poet, this I can comprehend. But from what reason did you assume
the strange and fantastic name of Oran?"

The flush on Leonard's face became deeper. "My lord," said he, in a low
voice, "it is a childish fancy of mine; it is an anagram."

"Ah!"

"At a time when my cravings after knowledge were likely much to mislead,
and perhaps undo me, I chanced on some poems that suddenly affected my
whole mind, and led me up into purer air; and I was told that these poems
were written in youth, by one who had beauty and genius--one who was in her
grave--a relation of my own, and her familiar name was Nora--"

"Ah!" again ejaculated Lord L'Estrange, and his arm pressed heavily upon
Leonard's.

"So, somehow or other," continued the young author, falteringly, "I wished
that if ever I won to a poet's fame, it might be to my own heart, at
least, associated with this name of Nora--with her whom death had robbed of
the fame that she might otherwise have won--with her who--"

He paused, greatly agitate