iters, bestrode him, hooking on to the back of the saddle a
bundle somewhat larger than a cavalry man's rolled-up cloak. The bundle
contained Mr. Nash's selected properties. That gentleman allowed Madame
to fasten the straps of Coristine's knapsack on his shoulders, while
Pierre did the same for Wilkinson. The dominie had paid the bill the
night before, as he objected to commercial transactions on Sunday, so
there was nothing to do but to say good bye, bestow a trifle on Batiste
and take to the road. The detective, after they had done half a mile's
pleasant walking, took command of the expedition, and ordered The
Cavalry, as Coristine called himself, to trot forward and make a
reconnoisance. His instructions were to get to the Carruthers' house in
advance of the pedestrians, to find out exactly who were there, and to
return with speed and report at headquarters, which would be somewhere
on the road. Saluting his friend and his superior officer, the lawyer
trotted off, his steed as well pleased as himself to travel more
speedily through the balmy atmosphere of the morning. The dominie and
his quondam assistant were thus left to pursue their journey in company.

"Do you enjoy Wordsworth, Mr. Nash?" asked Wilkinson.

"Oh yes," replied the detective, "the poet, you mean, We are seven, and
the primrose by the river's brim. Queer old file in the stamp business
he must have been. Wish I could make $2,500 a year like him, doing next
to nothing."

"There is a passage that seems to my mind appropriate. It is:--

Us humbler ceremonies now await;
But in the bosom with devout respect,
The banner of our joy we will erect,
And strength of love our souls shall elevate;
For, to a few collected in His name.
The heavenly Father will incline His ear.
Hallowing Himself the service which they frame.
Awake! the majesty of God revere!
Go--and with foreheads meekly bow'd,
Present your prayer: go--and rejoice aloud--
The Holy One will hear!"

"You should have been a parson, Mr. Wilkinson; you do that well. I'd
like to take lessons from you; it would help me tremendously in my
profession. But I find it mighty hard to do the solemn. That time in
your school was almost too much for me, and your friend twigged my
make-up last night."

"I find it hard," said the schoolmaster, "not to be solemn in such
scenery as this on such a morning. All nature seems to worship, giving
forth in sc