et. On the following
morning, with the sun, he was on his way to the house in which he had been
born, and which he had never left for twenty-four hours at a time in his
life. In the evening, as he was ushered in by John (who had known him from
his own childhood, and loved to show him attention) to the room in which
he was to sleep, he broke what the young man called his inveterate
silence, with, "Young Mr. Moseley--young gentleman--might I presume--to
ask--to see the gentleman?"

"What gentleman?" cried John, astonished at the request, and at his
speaking so much.

"That saved Miss Emmy's life, sir."

John now fully comprehended him, and led the way to Denbigh's room; he was
asleep, but they were admitted to his bed-side. The steward stood for ten
minutes gazing on the sleeper in silence; and John observed, as he blew
his nose on regaining his own apartment, that his little grey eyes
twinkled with a lustre which could not be taken for anything but a tear.

As the letter was as characteristic of the writer as its bearer was of his
vocation, we may be excused giving it at length.

_"Dear Sir Edward and Nephew_,

"Your letter reached the lodge too late to be answered that evening, as I
was about to step into my bed; but I hasten to write my congratulations,
remembering the often repeated maxim of my kinsman Lord Gosford, that
letters should be answered immediately; indeed, a neglect of it had very
nigh brought about an affair of honor between the earl and Sir Stephens
Hallett. Sir Stephens was always opposed to us in the House of Commons of
this realm; and I have often thought something might have passed in the
debate itself, which commenced the correspondence, as the earl certainly
told him as much as if he were a traitor to his King and country.

"But it seems that your daughter Emily has been rescued from death by the
grandson of General Denbigh, who sat with us in the house. Now I always
had a good opinion of this young Denbigh, who reminds me, every time I
look at him, of my late brother, your father-in-law that was; and I send
my steward, Peter Johnson, express to the hall in order that he may see
the sick man, and bring me back a true account how he fares: for should he
be wanting for anything within the gift of Roderic Benfield, he has only
to speak to have it; not that I suppose, nephew, you will willingly allow
him to suffer for anything, but Peter is a man of close observation,
although he is of few words