"He! who?" inquired the attorney.

“Why, the poacher, to be sure,” replied Jack ;

were we talking about ?

66

"who else

Beg pardon," returned Coates; "I thought you might have heard some intelligence. We've got an eye upon him. We know who it was.'

66 Indeed," exclaimed Jack," and who was it?”

"A fellow, known by the name of Luke Bradley."

"Zounds!" cried Titus, (6 you don't say it was he? Murder in Irish that bates every thing - why he was Sir Piers's

"Natural son," replied the attorney; "he has not been heard of for some time shockingly incorrigible rascal

impossible to do any thing with him."

"You don't say so," observed Jack. "I've heard Sir Piers speak of the lad and, by his account, he's as fine a fellow as ever crossed tit's back — only a little wildish and unreasonable, as the best of us may be Your skittish colt makes the

wants breaking, that's all. best horse, and so would he. To speak the truth, I'm glad he escaped."

"So am I," rejoined Titus; " for, in the first place, I've a foolish partiality for poachers, and am sorry when any of 'em come to hurt; and, in the second, I'd be mightily displeased if any ill had happened to one of Sir Piers's flesh and blood, as this young chap appears to be."

"Appears to be !" repeated Palmer: "there's no appearing in the case, I take it. This Bradley's an undoubted off-shot of the old squire. His mother was a servant-maid at the Hall, I rather think. You, sir," continued he, addressing Coates, " perhaps can inform us of the real facts of the case.

"She was something better than a servant," replied the attorney, with a slight cough and a knowing wink. remember her quite well, though I was but a boy then a lovely creature," and so taking, I don't wonder that Sir Piers was smitten with her. He was mad after the women in those days, and pretty Sue Bradley above all others. She lived with him quite like his lady."

"So I've heard," returned Jack; "and she remained with him till her death. Let me see, wasn't there something

rather odd in the way in which she died, rather suddenish and unexpected a noise made about it at the time, eh?

"Not that I ever heard," replied Coates, shaking his head, and appearing to be afflicted with an instantaneous ignorance ; while Titus affected not to hear the remark, but occupied himself with his wine-glass. Small snored audibly. " I was too young, then, to pay any attention to idle rumours," continued Coates. "It's a long time ago. May I ask the reason of your inquiry?”

"Nothing farther than simple curiosity," replied Jack, enjoying the consternation of his companions.

say, a long while since.

things are remembered.

It is, as you

But it's singular how those sort of
One would think people had some-

thing else to do than talk of one's private affairs for ever.
For my part, I despise such tattle.
But there are persons in
the neighbourhood who still say it was an awkward business.
Amongst others, I've heard that this very Luke Bradley talks
in pretty plain terms about it."

"Does he, indeed? said Coates. "So much the worse for him. Let me once lay hands upon him, and I'll put a gag in his mouth that shall spoil his talking in future.”

"That's precisely the point I desire to arrive at," replied Jack; "and I advise you by all means to accomplish that, for the sake of the family. Nobody likes his friends to be talked about. So I'd settle the matter amicably, were I you. Just let the fellow go his way, he wo'n't return here again, in a hurry, I'll be bound. As to clapping him in quod, he might prattle turn stag."

"Turn stag!" replied Coates, "what the deuce is that? In my opinion he has turned stag' already. At all events, he'll pay deer for his night's sport, you may depend upon it. What signifies it what he says? Let me lay hands upon him, that's all."

66

Well, well," said Jack, "no offence. I only meant to offer a suggestion. I thought the family, young Sir Ranulph, I mean, mightn't like the story to be revived. As to Lady Rookwood, she don't, I suppose, care much about idle reports. Indeed, if I've been rightly informed, she bears this youngster no particular good will to begin with, and has tried hard to get him out of the country. But, as you say, what does it

signify what he says, he can only talk. Sir Piers is dead and

gone.'

66

Humph!" muttered Coates, peevishly.

"But it does seem a little hard, that a lad should swing for killing a bit of venison in his own father's park."

"Which he'd a natʼral right to do," cried Titus.

"He had no natural right to bruise, violently assault, and endanger the life of his father's, or any body else's, gamekeeper," retorted Coates. "I tell you, sir, he's committed a

capital offence, and if he's taken

"No chance of that, I hope," interrupted Jack.

"That's a wish I can't help wishing myself," said Titus: "on my conscience, these poachers are fine boys, when all's said and done."

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"The finest of all boys," exclaimed Jack, with a kindred enthusiasm, are those birds of the night, and minions of the moon, whom we call, most unjustly, poachers. They are, after all, only professional sportsmen, making a business of what we make a pleasure; a nightly pursuit of what is to us a daily relaxation; there's the main distinction. As to the rest, it's all in idea; they merely thin an overstocked park, as you would reduce a plethoric patient, doctor; or as you would work a monied client, if you got him into Chancery, Mister Attorney. And then how much more scientifically and systematically they set to work than we amateurs do; how noiselessly they bag a hare, smoke a pheasant, or knock a buck down with an air gun; how independent are they of any licence, except that of a good eye, and a swift pair of legs; how unnecessary is it for them to ask permission to shoot over Mr. So and So's grounds, or my Lord That's preserves; they are free of every cover, and indifferent to any alteration in the game laws. I've some thoughts, when every thing else fails, of taking to poaching myself. In my opinion, a poacher's a highly respectable character. What say you, Mr. Coates?" turning very gravely to that gentleman.

"Such a question, sir," replied Coates, bridling up, "scarcely deserves a serious answer. I make no doubt you will next maintain that a highwayman is a gentleman."

"Most undoubtedly," replied Palmer, in the same grave tone, which might have passed for banter, had Jack ever bantered. "I'll maintain and prove it. I don't see how he

can be otherwise. It is as necessary for a man to be a gentleman before he can turn highwayman, as it is for a doctor to have his diploma, or an attorney his certificate. Some of the finest gentlemen of their day, as Captains Lovelace, Hind, Hannum, and Dudley, were eminent on the road, and they set the fashion. Ever since their day a real highwayman would consider himself disgraced, if he did not conduct himself in every way like a gentleman. Of course, there are pretenders in this line, as in every thing else. But these are only exceptions, and prove the rule. What are the distinguishing characteristics of a fine gentleman ? — perfect knowledge of the world - perfect independence of character notoriety - command of cash and inordinate success with You grant all these premises. First, then, it is part of a highwayman's business to be thoroughly acquainted with the world. He is the easiest and pleasantest fellow going. There is Tom King, for example: he is the handsomest man about town, and the best-bred fellow on the road. Then whose inclinations are so uncontrolled as the highwayman's, so long as the mopuses last? who produces so great an effect by so few words? 'Stand and deliver,' is sure to arrest attention. Every one is captivated by an address so taking. As to money, he wins a purse of a hundred guineas as easily as you would the same sum from the faro table. And wherein lies the difference? only in the name of the game. Who so little need of a banker as he? all he has to apprehend is a check

the women.

- what

all he has to draw is a trigger. As to the women, they doat upon him not even your red coat is so successful. Look at a highwayman mounted on his flying steed, with his pistols in his holsters, and his mask upon his face. What can be a more gallant sight? the clatter of his horse's heels is like music to his ear he is in full quest - he shouts to the fugitive horseman to stay the other flies all the faster. chase can be half so exciting as that? Suppose he overtakes his prey, which ten to one he will, how readily his summons to deliver is obeyed; how satisfactory is the appropriation of a lusty purse or corpulent pocket-book-getting the brush is nothing to it. How tranquilly he departs, takes off his hat to his accommodating acquaintance, wishes him a pleasant journey, and disappears across the heath. England, sir, has reason to be proud of her highwaymen ! They are peculiar

to her clime, and are as much before the brigand of Italy the contrabandist of Spain, or the cut-purse of Franceas her sailors are before all the rest of the world. The day will never come, I hope, when we shall degenerate into the footpad, and lose our night errantry. Even the French borrow from they have only one highwayman of eminence, and he learnt and practiced his art in England."

us

"And who was he, may I ask? said Coates. “ Claude Du-Val,” replied Jack; "and, though a Frenchman, he was a deuced fine fellow in his day — quite a tip top maccaroni — he could skip and twirl like a figurant, warble like an opera singer, and play the flageolet better than any man of his day he always carried a lute in his pocket, along with his snappers. And then his dress it was quite beautiful to see how smartly he was rigg'd out, all velvet and lace; and even with his vizard on his face, the ladies used to cry out to see him. Then he took a purse with the air and grace of a receiver-general. All the women adored him and that, bless their pretty faces, was the best proof of his gentility. I wish he'd not been a Mounseer. The women never mistake. They can always discover the true gentleman, and they were all, of every degree, from the countess to the kitchen-maid, over head and ears in love with him."

"But he was taken, I suppose?" asked Coates.

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'Ay," responded Jack, "the women were his undoing as they've been many a brave fellow's before, and will be again." Touched by which reflection, Jack became for once in his life sentimental, and sighed. "Poor Du-Val! he was seized at the Hole in the Wall in Chandos Street by the bailiff of Westminster when dead drunk, his liquor having been drugged by his dells - and was shortly afterwards hanged at Tyburn."

"It was a thousand pities," said Mr. Coates with a sneer, "that so fine a gentleman should come to so ignominious an end !"

"Quite the contrary," returned Jack, as his biographer Doctor Pope properly remarks. "Who is there worthy of the name of man, that would not prefer such a death before a mean, solitary, inglorious life? By the by, Titus, as we're upon the subject, if you like I'll sing you a song about highwaymen."