could see from his resting-place that Carne was coming, sitting
loosely and wearily on his high black horse. Then the Rector, to cut
short an unpleasant business, stood boldly forth and hailed him.

"No time for anything now," shouted Carne; "too late already. Do you
want my money? You are come to the wrong man for that; but the right
one, I can tell you, for a bullet."

"Caryl, it is I, your uncle Twemlow, or at any rate the husband of your
aunt. Put up your pistol, and speak to me a minute. I have something
important to say to you. And I never can find you at the castle."

"Then be quick, sir, if you please;" Carne had never condescended to
call this gentleman his uncle. "I have little time to spare. Out with
it."

"You were riding very slowly for a man in a hurry," said the Rector,
annoyed at his roughness. "But I will not keep you long, young man. For
some good reasons of your own you have made a point of avoiding us, your
nearest relatives in this country, and to whom you addressed yourself
before you landed in a manner far more becoming. Have I ever pressed my
attentions upon you?"

"No, I confess that you have not done that. You perceived as a gentleman
how little there was in common between the son of a devoted Catholic and
a heretic clergyman."

"That is one way to put it," Mr. Twemlow answered, smiling in spite of
his anger at being called a heretic; "but I was not aware that you had
strong religious views. However that may be, we should have many things
in common, as Englishmen, at a time like this. But what I came to speak
of is not that. We can still continue to get on without you, although
we would rather have met with friendly feeling and candour, as becomes
relatives. But little as you know of us, you must be well aware that
your cousin Eliza was engaged to be married to a gentleman from London,
Mr. Percival Shargeloes, and that he--"

"I am sure I wish her all happiness, and congratulate you, my dear sir,
as well as my aunt Maria. I shall call, as soon as possible, to offer
my best wishes. It was very kind of you to tell me. Goodnight, sir,
good-night! There is a shower coming."

"But," exclaimed the Rector, nonplussed for the moment by this view
of the subject, yet standing square before the horse, "Shargeloes has
disappeared. What have you done with him?"

Carne looked at his excellent uncle as if he had much doubt about his
sanity. "Try to explain yourself, my dear sir. Try to connect your