e have endeavored to cultivate her society, as we have found it
very agreeable."

The countenance of the stranger underwent several changes during this
speech of John's, and at its close his eyes rested on him with a softer
expression than generally marked its rigid and compressed muscles. Willing
to change a discourse that was growing too particular for a mail-coach,
John addressed himself to the opposite passengers, while his eye yet dwelt
on the face of the military stranger.

"We are likely to have a fine day, gentlemen." The soldier bowed stiffly,
as he smiled his assent, and the other passenger humbly answered, "Very,
Mr. John," in the well known tones of honest Peter Johnson. Moseley
started, as he turned his face for the first time on the lank figure which
was modestly compressed into the smallest possible compass in the corner
of the coach, in a way not to come in contact with any of its neighbors.

"Johnson," exclaimed John, in astonishment, "you here! Where are you
going--to London?"

"To London, Mr. John," replied Peter, with a look of much importance; and
then, by way of silencing further interrogatories, he added, "On my
master's business, sir."

Both Moseley and Lord Henry examined him closely; the former wondering
what could take the steward, at the age of seventy, for the first time in
his life, into the vortex of the capital; and the latter in admiration at
this figure and equipments of the old man. Peter was in full costume, with
the exception of the goggles, and was in reality a subject to be gazed at;
but nothing relaxed the muscles or attracted the particular notice of the
soldier, who, having regained his set form of countenance, appeared drawn
up in himself, waiting patiently for the moment he was expected to act.
Nor did he utter more than as many words in the course of the first fifty
miles of their journey. His dialect was singular, and such as put his
hearers at a loss to determine his country. Lord Henry stared at him every
time he spoke, as if to say, what countryman are you? until at length he
suggested to John he was some officer whom the downfall of Bonaparte had
driven into retirement.

"Indeed, Moseley," he added, as they were about to resume their carriage
after a change of horses, "we must draw him out, and see what he thinks of
his master now--delicately, you know." The soldier was, however,
impervious to his lordship's attacks, until the project was finally
abandoned in despa