ng hand as the word "settlements" passed
Captain Wragge's lips.

"I'll take a teaspoonful with you," said the captain, nimbly dismounting
from the pedestal of his respectability, and sipping his brandy with
the highest relish. Noel Vanstone, after nervously following his host's
example, composed himself to meet the coming ordeal, with reclining
head and grasping hands, in the position familiarly associated to all
civilized humanity with a seat in a dentist's chair.

The captain put down his empty glass and got up again on his pedestal.

"We were talking of settlements," he resumed. "I have already mentioned,
Mr. Vanstone, at an early period of our conversation, that my niece
presents the man of her choice with no other dowry than the most
inestimable of all gifts--the gift of herself. This circumstance,
however (as you are no doubt aware), does not disentitle me to make the
customary stipulations with her future husband. According to the usual
course in this matter, my lawyer would see yours--consultations would
take place--delays would occur--strangers would be in possession of
your intentions--and Mrs. Lecount would, sooner or later, arrive at that
knowledge of the truth which you are anxious to keep from her. Do you
agree with me so far?"

Unutterable apprehension closed Noel Vanstone's lips. He could only
reply by an inclination of the head.

"Very good," said the captain. "Now, sir, you may possibly have observed
that I am a man of a very original turn of mind. If I have not hitherto
struck you in that light, it may then be necessary to mention that there
are some subjects on which I persist in thinking for myself. The subject
of marriage settlements is one of them. What, let me ask you, does a
parent or guardian in my present condition usually do? After having
trusted the man whom he has chosen for his son-in-law with the sacred
deposit of a woman's happiness, he turns round on that man, and declines
to trust him with the infinitely inferior responsibility of providing
for her pecuniary future. He fetters his son-in-law with the most
binding document the law can produce, and employs with the husband of
his own child the same precautions which he would use if he were dealing
with a stranger and a rogue. I call such conduct as this inconsistent
and unbecoming in the last degree. You will not find it my course of
conduct, Mr. Vanstone--you will not find me preaching what I don't
practice. If I trust you with my