supper. They met in the evening.

"I have been making some inquiries," said Mr Graham, "about Colonel Henry
Seaton, on your account, and am happy to say that he is well. I fear I
shall not have the pleasure of your company to France. I have every reason
to believe that he is now in Scotland, or will be very soon. Excuse me if I
am not more particular. I shall, I hope, to-morrow, or at least before the
vessel sails, be able to give you more particular information. I can rely,
I think, upon your honour, that no harm shall come from my confidence."

Both thanked him for the interest he took, and the good news he had
communicated. They parted for the night, all in the best spirits--William
anticipating the joy he should feel at the sight of his parent, and the
Colonel anxious to see his old friend. Afterwards Mr Graham and William
occasionally met. Their evenings were spent with the Colonel, and all party
discussion carefully avoided. On the evening of the fourth day after Mr
Graham's last information, William had begun to fear that the vessel might
sail before any certainty could be obtained; and he was in doubt whether to
proceed with her or remain. Upon Mr Graham's arrival, which was later than
usual, he went directly up to William--

"I have good news for you," said he. "Colonel Seaton is at present in
Scotland--somewhere in Inverness-shire. He is the bearer of intelligence
that will render it unnecessary for me to proceed at present to France. I
am, I confess, much disappointed; but you, I perceive, are not."

"From my soul I thank you," said William. "Where shall I find my father?"

"That is more than I can tell you," answered the other--"I cannot even tell
the name he has at present assumed; all I know is, that he is the bearer of
intelligence from the Prince that crushes for a time our sanguine hopes.
The fickle and promise-breaking Louis has again deceived us. The Prince,
and the lukewarm, timid part of his adherents, the worshippers of the
ascendant, refuse to act without his powerful aid. His concurrence we have,
and a prospect of future aid at a more convenient season; but, bah! for a
Frenchman's promise! I am off from ever taking a leading part again. I will
wait the convenient season. I may be led, but shall never lead again. He
does not deserve a crown that will not dare for it; nor does he deserve the
hearts of a generous people that would not dare everything to free them
from the yoke of a foreign tyrant.