ith no other
appearance of emotion in his manner. "Was not our contract honestly
concluded at the time?"

"It was, sir--there's no doubt of it. Your honor paid like a gentleman,
and in goold besides;--but that's just the business I come about here.
It was French money you gave me, and I got into trouble about it--some
saying that I was a spy, and others making out that I was, maybe, worse;
and so I thought I wouldn't pass any more of it, till I seen yourself,
and maybe you'd change it for me."

While he was speaking, Talbot's eye never wandered from him--not fixed,
indeed, with any seeming scrutiny, but still intently watching every
play of his features.

"You told me at the time, however, that French gold was just as
convenient to you as English," said he, smiling good-humouredly, "and
from the company I met you in, I found no difficulty in believing you."

"The times is changed, sir," said Lanty, sighing. "God help us--we must
do the best we can."

This evasive answer seemed perfectly to satisfy Talbot, who assented
with a shake of the head, as he said--

"Very well, Lanty; if you will come here to-morrow, I'll exchange your
gold for you."

"Thank your honor kindly," said Lanty, with a bow; but still making no
sign of leaving the room, where he stood, changing from one foot to the
other, in an attitude of bashful diffidence. "There was another little
matter, sir, but I'd be sorry to trouble you about it--and sure you
couldn't help it, besides."

"And that is--Let us hear it, Lanty."

"Why, sir, it's the horse--the mare with the one white fetlock. They
say, sir, that she was left at Moran's stables by the man that robbed
Mr. Moore of Moorecroft. Deaf Collison, the post-boy, can swear to her;
and as I bought her myself at Dycer's, they are calling me to account
for when I sold her, and to whom."

"Why, there's no end to your trouble about that unlucky beast, Lanty,"
said Talbot, laughing; "and I confess it's rather hard, that you are
not only expected to warrant your horse sound, but must give a guarantee
that the rider is honest."

"Devil a lie in it, but that's just it," said Lanty, who laughed
heartily at the notion.

"Well, we must look to this for you, Lanty; for although I have no
desire to have my name brought forward, still you must not suffer on
that account. I remember paying my bill at Rathmallow with that same
mare. She made an overreach coming down a hill, and became dead lame
with me; and