me of Mowbray! If my poor,
old, simple father had known what the owners of these two grand
syllables could have stooped to do for merely ensuring subsistence, he
would have thought as little of the noble Mowbrays as of the humble
Scrogies. And, I dare say, the young lady is just such another--eager
to get married--no matter to whom."

"Excuse me, Mr. Touchwood," answered Mowbray; "my sister entertains
sentiments so very different from what you ascribe to her, that she and
I parted on the most unpleasant terms, in consequence of my pressing
this man's suit upon her. God knows, that I only did so, because I saw
no other outlet from this most unpleasant dilemma. But, since you are
willing to interfere, sir, and aid me to disentangle these complicated
matters, which have, I own, been made worse by my own rashness, I am
ready to throw the matter completely into your hands, just as if you
were my father arisen from the dead. Nevertheless, I must needs express
my surprise at the extent of your intelligence in these affairs."

"You speak very sensibly, young man," said the traveller; "and as for my
intelligence, I have for some time known the finesses of this Master
Bulmer as perfectly as if I had been at his elbow when he was playing
all his dog's tricks with this family. You would hardly suspect now," he
continued, in a confidential tone, "that what you were so desirous a
while ago should take place, has in some sense actually happened, and
that the marriage ceremony has really passed betwixt your sister and
this pretended Lord Etherington?"

"Have a care, sir!" said Mowbray, fiercely; "do not abuse my
candour--this is no place, time, or subject, for impertinent jesting."

"As I live by bread, I am serious," said Touchwood; "Mr. Cargill
performed the ceremony; and there are two living witnesses who heard
them say the words, 'I, Clara, take you, Francis,' or whatever the
Scottish church puts in place of that mystical formula."

"It is impossible," said Mowbray; "Cargill dared not have done such a
thing--a clandestine proceeding, such as you speak of, would have cost
him his living. I'll bet my soul against a horse-shoe, it is all an
imposition; and you come to disturb me, sir, amid my family distress,
with legends that have no more truth in them than the Alkoran."

"There are some true things in the Alkoran, (or rather, the Koran, for
the Al is merely the article prefixed,) but let that pass--I will raise
your wonder hig