naway."

"Go and tell them to leave this, send them away, Proctor. It would do
your master great injury were he to overhear them. Say that everything
shall be paid in a day or two; that Sir Stafford remains here, and is
responsible for all."

Proctor hastened out on his errand, and the doctor sat down and covered
his face with his hands.

"Poor Stafford! is all your trustful affection come to this? Is it thus
that your unbounded generosity, your noble hospitality, are requited?"

When Proctor returned, he proceeded to detail, for the doctor's
information, the various events which had occurred during his absence.
With most, Grounsell was already acquainted, and listened to the
particulars without surprise or emotion.

"So it is, so it is," muttered he to himself; "there may be more cant
of virtue, a greater share of hypocrisy in our English morals, but,
assuredly, these things do not happen with us as we see them here. There
would seem a something enervating in the very air of the land, that a
man like him should have sunk down into this besotted apathy! When can I
see him, Proctor?"

"He 's dozing just now, sir; but about midnight he wakes up and asks for
his draught. If that won't be too late for you--"

"Too late for me! Why, what else have I travelled for, night and day,
without intermission? Be cautious, however, about how you announce me.
Perhaps it would be better I should see the Captain first."

"You 'll scarcely find him at home, sir, at this hour; he generally
comes in between three and four."

"Show me to his room. I 'll write a few lines for him in case we don't
meet."

Proctor accompanied the doctor across the courtyard, and, guiding him up
a small stair, reached the terrace off which George Onslow's apartment
opened. The window-shutters of the room were not closed, nor the
curtains drawn; and in the bright light of several candles that shone
within, Grounsell saw two figures seated at a table, and busily engaged
in examining the details of a case of pistols which lay before them.

"That will do, Proctor," said Grounsell; "you may leave me now. I'll be
with you at twelve." And thus saying, he gently pushed him towards the
door of the terrace, which he closed and bolted after him, and then
noiselessly returned to his former place.

There were few things less congenial to Grounsell's nature than playing
the spy. It was a part he thoroughly detested, nor did he think that it
admitted of defence