onest men can live there," said Clifford, dryly. "And," resumed
the squire, a little embarrassed by the nature of his task, and the
cool assurance of his young friend,--"and pray, Captain Clifford, what
regiment do you belong to?"

"Regiment?--oh, the Rifles!" answered Clifford. ("Deuce is in me,"
muttered he, "if I can resist a jest, though I break my neck over it.")

"A very gallant body of men," said the squire.

"No doubt of that, sir!" rejoined Clifford.

"And do you think, Captain Clifford," renewed the squire, "that it is a
good corps for getting on?"

"It is rather a bad one for getting off," muttered the Captain; and then
aloud, "Why, we have not much interest at court, sir."

"Oh! but then there is a wider scope, as my brother the lawyer says--and
no man knows better--for merit. I dare say you have seen many a man
elevated from the ranks?"

"Nothing more common, sir, than such elevation; and so great is the
virtue of our corps, that I have also known not a few willing to
transfer the honour to their comrades."

"You don't say so!" exclaimed the squire, opening his eyes at such
disinterested magnanimity.

"But," said Clifford, who began to believe he might carry the equivoke
too far, and who thought, despite of his jesting, that it was possible
to strike out a more agreeable vein of conversation--"but, sir, if you
remember, you have not yet finished that youthful hunting adventure of
yours, when the hounds were lost at Burnham Copse."

"Oh, very true," cried the squire, quite forgetting his late suspicions;
and forthwith he began a story that promised to be as long as the
chase it recorded. So charmed was he, when he had finished it, with the
character of the gentleman who had listened to it so delightedly, that
on rejoining Mauleverer, he told the earl, with an important air,
that he had strictly examined the young captain, and that he had fully
convinced himself of the excellence of his family, as well as the
rectitude of his morals. Mauleverer listened with a countenance of
polite incredulity; he had heard but little of the conversation that had
taken place between the pair; but on questioning the squire upon sundry
particulars of Clifford's birth, parentage, and property, he found him
exactly as ignorant as before. The courtier, however, seeing further
expostulation was in vain, contented himself with patting the squire's
shoulder, and saying, with a mysterious urbanity, "Ah, sir, you are too
go