'that Lady Mason will not countenance your falsehoods? Where's your Burridge? he is not forthcoming.'

That Lady Mason will not countenance falsehoods,' I replied, 'I should be very glad to believe. That she does, I know. I am sorry she will not lend her countenance to truth, which, Colonel, ere longyou may smile, sir, and turn up your lip, because I am a lad—which, I say, ere long she shall be made, if not to countenance, to confess.' 'Gently with his honour,' said Martin,—' gently.'

'I have not yet heard from Mr. Burridge,' I continued; 'but he will be forthcoming, I trust; or the treachery of somebody has been only too successful.'

'Who is that somebody?' exclaimed the Colonel; 'I know whom you mean. But why am I kept here ?what do you want?' striking the table. I heard you were gone to sea.'

'I have not yet taken water,' said I; 'my destination was to have been Jamaica. My mother, however, omitted to furnish me with letters of recommendation, which, proceeding from her, must needs have been most advantageous to me.'

'D―ation!' cried the Colonel, in a rage, 'the insolence of this

boy!'

'We lose time,' said Martin, drawing out his watch. Tell his honour, sir, at once, what we have come about.'

'Listen with patience to me for two minutes, and you will alter your tone, Colonel,' said I, and I related the particulars of my seizure and escape.

The Colonel sat for some time after I had concluded, alternately gazing at Martin and me, his hand clasping his chin.

'It won't pass,' he said at length, it won't pass. Nothing will do for you, you young vagabond, as I told you in my letter, but Bridewell, and the whipping-post. Here, you make it to be believed that you are gone, or going, to sea, and get this great tailor to eke out a wretched story, concocted in that shallow brain of thine, that Mrs. Brett has caused you to be made off with by crimps. Who are you, fellow?' to Martin. You say you have been soldier-where? in what regiment? under whom? How do I know that you are not a thief? Speak! are you an honest man, or a thief?'

Martin turned fiery red at the question.

'I hope, Colonel,' he brought out at last, I know the difference between a high gentleman like you, and myself; and I trust I have a becoming respect for the cloth; but, by G-! sir, if any other man had asked me that,'--he paused for a moment, why shouldn't I say it ?-he had never asked me a second time. Colonel Brett,' he added, 'I can bring many to speak to my character, if necessary; but it is your character that is now in question. It is, sir. If you have been conniving with the lady, your wife, to make away with this young gentleman, which I cannot help suspecting, from the passion you were

in, and I never knew a man in a passion that wasn't in the wrong,— then,' with an oath, I'm a better man than you, though I'm a poor tailor, and you a rich gentleman.'

How mean the fine gentleman looked at that moment, and how much like a man the tailor!

'Under whom have you served?' inquired the Colonel. 'Colonel Cutts,' said Martin, shortly.

'Then you knew Captain Steele?'

and an excellent

Ask him, sir, if he

"That I did,' cried Martin, his brow clearing, gentleman his honour was; and he knew me, too. remembers Corporal John Martin? I warrant you. me, 'tell the Colonel the rest. Time draws on apace.'

But,' turning to

'What more?' inquired the Colonel. The bolster, I suppose?' 'My story requires no bolstering, sir,' I said; 'we have proof,' and I told him of the capture of the two men, and of their confession. He was greatly troubled, and arose and paced the room, his hands clasped behind him.

'Wait a moment,' he said, at length, waving his hand, and he hurried from the apartment.

He came back after some time, and in disorder, his face flushedhis eyes kindled.

'Martin,' he said, 'this matter must be stopped; we must buy off these two fellows. What money will effect must be done.'

was

'Then, sir,' began Martin, 'you are now convinced that the lady

I checked him.

"Why, as to that,' he continued, the men are down in the headborough's book, and I don't know. Money will go a great way, to be

sure.'

'How much?' said the Colonel.

"Why, perhaps a couple of guineas might satisfy the watch.'

The Colonel drew out his purse. Take five; and here are five for yourself. I am sorry I said what I did.'

"Your honour is too good to say so much now,' cried Martin. As for the money, I won't touch it.'

'I insist upon it,' said the Colonel. What! mutinous, corporal?' He pressed his hand. Come, you will greatly oblige me.'

6

Martin said no more, but pocketed the money.

'Then you think I may venture to hope that I shall hear no more of this dugly business?' inquired the Colonel.

'I think your honour may. If we don't come forward, they will be discharged; but I am known, and unless I crossed the headborough's hand, he would have me before his worship, to tell all I knew.'

'Colonel,' said I, 'I am a party in this matter.-How do you know that I am satisfied with this arrangement ?"

He drew me aside. 'Child,' said he, 'what I do not say to thee now, you must take it for granted that I feel. Dost think I am not confoundedly ashamed? You must call upon me in a few days What will satisfy you for the present?'

'I want no hush-money,' I replied; 'but I must have some assurance that there shall be no repetition of this.'

'That I make you,' said the Colonel, 'on my word of honour as a gentleman, Mrs. Brett shall not-indeed, she has solemnly promised that she will not-attempt it a second time. You hesitate?'

'No-I will take my chance, Colonel.'

'You're a fine fellow. Something shall be done for you. Leave it all to me.'

'I expect nothing-I hope nothing,' I replied. From this time forth money is out of our question. But her son I am,-and will be, --and will be known to be. Perhaps, after all, the honour of the relationship between us will not be on my side. The advantage will be on neither.'

He shrugged his shoulders. Fight it out between you,' said he, 'I am on half-pay; and do not intend to fight any more battles.'

I left Martin at the Colonel's door, after promising that I would very shortly call upon him.

I found Ludlow with his wife, and related all that had passed between the Colonel and myself, and the arrangement that had been entered into. He did not seem, at first, greatly to approve it, but reconciled himself to it after a short time.

'It will touch her,' said he, 'to be obliged to you-to be beholden to your mercy! Come, that's something. What she feels now is a little of our vengeance. Don't you see how her heart is torn different ways at this moment, and no way the right one.'

'But, stop!' he said, after a long pause. 'I don't half like what you've done. This will make her hate you all the more. What's the worth of the Colonel's word of honour ?-that,' snapping his fingers; how could he restrain her, if she had a mind to try it again? And she will. Once wicked-always wicked. The bad can never be ashamed or recla imed.'

'I am sorry,' he said to me some time afterwards, when we were alone, ' that I blurted out that about the wicked before Jane. It might have hurt her feelings-which I'm sure I didn't intend. She didn't appear to remark it, did she?'

'Not at all,' I answered.

But she did. I had involuntarily turned my eye towards her when Ludlow spoke. And how it stung the woman, her eye, which was bent upon her husband, told me plainly. It was an expression not to be described. That I remember it so well-but I will not anticipate. Let all be set forth in due order of time.

CHAPTER XIV.

An old friend with an improved appearance, and in a new character. With an instance of complicated wickedness which, it is to be hoped, has not often been paralleled.

SHALL I avow—yes, let me do so—that despite my heroic speech to Colonel Brett, I expected some recognition from my mother of my generosity to her, and some return for it? They who are dead to humanity are sometimes alive to pride; but this lady (long may she live after repentance begins!) had neither: for haughtiness is not pride, though the dictionary insists upon it ever so stoutly. A great deal of meanness, however, well faced, and carried with an upward chin, is a good substitute for it; nay, is so common, that it has put the real thing out of countenance, which seldom stirs abroad. Some say, indeed, that pride is dead; but I believe it may still be found in a garret or a cellar-its proper place. The counterfeit is more wearable-lasts longer-lasts for life. Nothing can touch it, or if it can, nothing injures it. It is shame-proof.

So I was fain to put up with the reward of Virtue-dear, miserly old girl! who repays her followers with a set smile-would that she would sometimes change the fashion of it!—and who bids them be very good boys, and go and do other very good things, and get nothing for them. If I did not do her bidding afterwards, it was, I think, because of that same immobility of phiz and closeness of fist, which belong to her. Vice, perhaps, has some good qualities, after all; and Virtue is not so white as she is painted. Bad morality-worse sense. I know it; but I must throw off now and then.

One morning, Mrs. Greaves informed me that a tall and very fine gentleman had just got out of a chair, and was waiting in the passage, desirous of seeing me. I went down, looking to behold no less a personage than Colonel Brett. He was indeed a very fine gentleman, but much taller and less corpulent than the Colonel.

'Ah, Dick, you dog,' said he, seizing me by the waist, 'here I am at last, at your service.'

'Mr. Burridge!' I exclaimed, in astonishment, surveying my old master, who was dressed in the height of the mode, and might have appeared in Pall Mall as a man of the first figure.

'Yes,' cried Burridge, divining the cause of my surprise,' a metamorphosis, I grant you. Ah, well! a diamond must sparkle, Dick, or who'll look upon it? I called where your letters told me I should find you, and saw an atom, who at length informed me where you were. Who is that little grig?'

'His name is Myte,' said I. 'I have been living with him for some months.'

'Ah, well!' cried Burridge; 'living with him, and not yet dead! He'd kill me in no time. And so you're with Ludlow, he says. He called him something.'

'Jeremiah Woful, I dare say.'

'The name, and not a bad one,' said Burridge, laughing. The diminutive tells me he believes he has wronged you, and wants to sing his palinode. But, don't you ask me up stairs?'

I led the way thither.

'Were you not surprised you did not hear from me?' he said, following me. I conclude so, from your having sent me two letters. Goose, not to remember that I'm never at home during vacation. Do you think I'm to stalk about the empty school-room, with false quantities and nonsense verses ringing in my ears, or play at push-pin in a corner with old Metcalfe ?'

Ludlow was standing at the door when we reached the landing, and greeted the visiter with a bow of profound respect.

'My good friend, I am very glad to see you,' said Burridge, extending his hand. Nay, let us walk in and sit down. A lady here?' turning to Ludlow.

'My wife,' said Ludlow, confused.

'I beg pardon. I was not aware-' began Burridge.

'Mrs. Ludlow, will you retire for a short time,' interrupted Lud low, handing her from the room.

'Why, what occasion for that?' cried Burridge. 'I didn't know you were one of the blest.'

'No, sir,' replied poor Ludlow, looking down upon his thumbs. 'Ho! ho!' cried Burridge, I take you now. A recent match. Your most obedient. Oh, Ludlow!' shaking his finger. 'Pray call back the bride; I wouldn't for the world I should have made her run away.'

Ludlow stood in evident distress. I walked up to Burridge, and whispered, 'I will tell you all by and by. It is a sad story, sir.

'Let us sit down,' said Burridge. And so, my good friend, your secret's out at last,—and Dick don't appear to be much the better for it. Mrs. Brett is his mother-the daughter of Lady Mason-um.' 'We look to you to help us in this difficulty, sir,' said Ludlow. There is no difficulty in the case,' said I. We merely wish you, sir, to certify that I was committed to you by Lady Mason. Perhaps you have her letter?'

'Yes, sir,' said Ludlow; and you can vouch—'

'One at a time,' cried Burridge. 'I have Lady Mason's letter by me. Here it is. It is plain enough. I wish yours, Dick, had been as precise. They contain an infinite quantity of nothing. Mrs. Brett was the divorced Countess of Macclesfield—'

'Oh! she was,' said Ludlow, between his teeth.