had ended our meal, "and you are weary. To bed, then, sans ceremonie."

"Let me look out on the night first" said I, "for I doubt your augury of the weather."

"It is indeed a lovely night," said he, looking up at the moon; "and the signs I read in this dappled sky, with its floating islands of light, seem given to remind us that the fairest appearances are often falsest. I am not mistaken, for we shall have a rain that will give me your company for more than one day, for it will make the streams impassable."

"Then I must use the more diligence, and place them behind me before they rise."

"And so place yourself in a wilderness between two impassable streams. Content yourself, my

dear sir. If it does not rain, you shall be called at daylight. If it does, you shall not deny or grudge me the pleasure that Providence sends me. Are you content?"

"I am sorry to requite your kindness by saying I am content per force; but I do say so. I will abide the event of your prediction, and if it proves true, stay without a murmur until you tell me the way is open."

"Agreed. Here, Tom!" A servant came. "If it does not rain in the morning have this gentleman's horse ready at daylight, and call him up. If it does rain, do not disturb him; but go to Colonel T's and Mr. H-'s, and tell them

I have a friend with me whom I wish to introduce to them. If they can slip along between the drops of rain, I shall be glad of their company to dinner. Ask Mr. H to bring P- with him. And now to bed."

He accordingly took a candle from the table, drew aside the curtain from one of the doorways, and introduced me to my pen.

"I did not promise you a house," said he; "but here you will be dry, for the planks that form this roof cannot leak. So, good-night."

He left me alone, and, strange to tell, in the midst of substantial comfort. A dressing table, water, and glasses, and basin; a neat bed with clean sheets, and a plank between me and the sky. What more could a traveller want after a hearty supper on fat venison? I felt somewhat exposed, indeed, for I had money about me that I could ill afford to lose; but there was no mistrusting the honesty of my host's intentions towards me-so I was soon asleep.

CHAPTER II.

"And is a name my sole inheritance?

Is this the sum of all the honours won

By them who bore it? And have time and chance,
Of all their toils have purchased, left alone

This dying echo of their old renown?

Where are all its records? Time has left no trace
On sculptured brass or monumental stone.

What is the name of a forgotten race?

A drop in history's ocean. Who can point its place?"

"BLESS me!" exclaimed I, as I awoke, "it is broad daylight! I should have been two miles on the road."

66

Why so? Did the rain get at you in bed?" "Oh, no !"

"Then you are better where you are.

not hear the rain ?"

Do you

"I do, indeed. I had not observed it, for it does not sound like rain. It falls like a heavy soft mass, as if it would crush the roof."

"Shall I come in?" said my entertainer, still speaking from the outside of the curtain.

"Certainly; but what is the hour?"

"Nine."

"Nine! I hope you have not waited breakfast for me."

"No danger of that. It is not so easy to have an early breakfast in such weather, when the fire is half out of doors, and everything else wholly so. Breakfast has not waited for you, but we have waited for breakfast. But it is now near at hand, and will be ready by the time you are.'

I was not long at my toilet, and issuing from my pen in company with my friend, was conducted across the passage into the opposite stall of this curious establishment.

"We are all out of doors here," said he; "but there are three degrees of comparison in this as in most things else. This is the positive, the passage the comparative, and there" (pointing out into the column of rain) "is the superlative. In such weather as this the intus penetralia is exposed enough; so I must make you free of my lady's chamber."

Accordingly in my lady's chamber stood the breakfast table, loaded with good things, and furnished in a style in most amusing contrast with the mansion. The table itself was of rich mahogany; the bedstead handsomely carved, and room had been found for a neat bureau. The equipage of the table was in good taste; and, in short, as many comforts were there as could be brought together without rendering the tout ensemble uncomfortable in so narrow a space. Mine host, too, this morning, was dressed like a gentleman, and his

wife was "point device in her accoutrements," and every inch a lady of the highest finish.

"Put that other doghole in some sort of order," said the master to one of the maids, "and set an iron pot of burning charcoal in there. You don't see" (turning to me) "that there is one under the table, but you will not be sorry to feel it. It is not easy to be too warm in this raw weather, and there is no great danger of being stifled by the vapour in this palace of the elements."

We now sat down to breakfast with recovered appetites, but not so keen as to deny Mr. Balcombe the use of his tongue.

"As soon as you told me your name," said he, "I knew that you must belong to a family of that name on York River. I was half tempted to ask to what branch of it, and would do so now, but the question is superfluous. By daylight I see that you are a son of Mr. Napier of Craiganet.

"You happen to be right," said I ; " but strangely enough, for I am utterly unlike my father." "So I should suppose; but I never saw him.” "For Heaven's sake, then, how do you come at my filiation?"

"Very easily. You are very like your mother's family, and none of your name but your father married into that family."

"You are strangely familiar with such things; but you are wrong. My father's brother married my mother's sister."

"But she died, leaving an only daughter."