"My moderation was of more service to me, in the minds of the people, than the utmost violence I could have employed to enforce obedience. As I got by degrees some little knowledge of their language, I grew more and more acceptable to them; and some few, who tried methods of my proposing, and found that they succeeded, were, by my directions, rewarded with the entire possession of the difference of profit between the old and new modes. This bounty enticed others; and in time that change was accomplished by gentle means, which I had at first almost despaired of ever effecting.

"When the works were in proper train, I despatched a messenger to the sultan's court, to request that he would be pleased to appoint some confidential person to visit the mines, in order to be an eye-witness of what had been done; and I further begged, as I had now accomplished the object of the sultan's wishes, that I might be recalled, after deputing whomsoever he should think proper to superintend and manage the mines in my stead. I moreover offered, before I withdrew, to instruct the person who should be appointed. My messenger, after a long delay, returned to me, with a command from Tippoo Sultan to remain where I was till his further orders. For these I waited three months, and then, concluding that I was forgotten, I determined to set out to refresh Tippoo's memory.

"I found him at Devanelli Fort, thinking of nothing less than of me or my tin-mines: he was busily engaged in making preparations for a war with some Soubha or other, whose name I forget, and all his ideas were bent on conquests and vengeance. He scarcely deigned to see, much less to listen to me: his treasurer gave me to understand that too much had already been lavished upon me, a stranger as I was; and that Tippoo's resources, at all events, would be now employed in carrying on schemes of war, not petty projects of commerce. Thus insulted, and denied all my promised reward, I could not but reflect upon the hard fate of those who attempt to serve capricious despots.

"I prepared as fast as possible to depart from Tippoo's court. The Hindoo merchant with whom I had lodged the pagodas and rupees promised to transmit them to me at Madras; and he delivered to me the diamond ring which Tippoo had given to me during his fit of generosity, or of ostentation. The sultan, who cared no more what became of me, made no opposition to my departure: but I was obliged to wait a day or two for a guard, as the hircarrahs who formerly conducted me were now out upon some expedition.

"Whilst I waited impatiently for their return, Prince Abdul Calie, who had not been during all this time at Devanelli Fort, arrived; and when I went to take leave of him, he inquired into the reason of my sudden departure. In language as respectful as I could use, and with as much delicacy as I thought myself bound to observe, in speaking to a son of his father, I related the truth. The prince's countenance showed what he felt. He paused, and seemed to be lost in thought, for a few minutes: he then said to me, 'The sultan, my father, is at this time so intent upon preparations for war, that even I should despair of being listened to on any other subject. But you have in your possession, as I recollect, what might be useful to him either in war or peace; and, if you desire it, I will speak of this machine to the sultan.'

"I did not immediately know to what machine of mine the prince alluded; but he explained to me that he meant my portable telegraph, which would be of infinite use to Tippoo in conveying orders of intelligence across the deserts. I left the matter entirely to the prince, after returning him my very sincere thanks for being thus interested in my concerns.

"A few hours after this conversation, I was summoned into the sultan's presence. His impatience to make trial of the telegraphs was excessive; and I, who but the day before had been almost trampled upon by the officers and lords of his court, instantly became a person of the greatest importance. The trial of the telegraphs succeeded beyond even my expectations; and the sultan was in a species of ecstasy on the occasion.

"I cannot omit to notice an instance of the violence of his temper, and its sudden changes from joy to rage. One of his blacks, a gentle Hindoo lad, of the name of Saheb, was set to manage a telegraph at one of the stations, a few yards distant from the sultan. I had previously instructed Saheb in what he was to do; but, from want of practice, he made some mistake, which threw Tippoo into such a transport of passion, that he instantly ordered the slave's head to be cut off! a sentence which would infallibly have been executed, if I had not represented that it would be expedient to suffer his head to remain on his shoulders till the message was delivered by his telegraph; because there was no one present who could immediately supply his place. Saheb then read off his message without making any new blunder; and the moment the exhibition was over, I threw myself at the feet of the sultan, and implored him to pardon Saheb. I was not likely at this moment to be refused such a trifle! Saheb was pardoned.

"An order upon the treasurer for five hundred star pagodas, to reward my services at the royal tin-mines, was given to me; and upon my presenting to Tippoo Sultan the portable telegraphs, on which his ardent wishes were fixed, he exclaimed: 'Ask any favour in the wide-extended power of Tippoo Sultan to confer, and it shall be granted."

"I concluded that this was merely an oriental figure of speech; but I resolved to run the hazard of a refusal. I did not ask for a province, though this was in the wide-extended power of Tippoo Sultan to confer; but as I had a great curiosity to see the diamond mines of Golconda, of which both in Europe and in India I had heard so much, I requested the sultan's permission to visit those which belonged to him. He hesitated; but after saying some words to an officer near him, he bade his interpreter tell me that he granted my request.

"Accordingly, after lodging my pagodas and rupees along with the rest in the hands of Omychund, the Gentoo merchant, who was a man of great wealth and credit, I set out in company with some diamond merchants who were going to Golconda. My curiosity was amply gratified by the sight of these celebrated mines; and I determined that, when I returned to Europe, I would write a description of them. This description, however, I shall spare you for the present, and proceed with my story.

"The diamond merchants with whom I travelled had a great deal of business to transact at various places; and this was the cause of much delay to me, which I could scarcely bear with patience; for now that I had gratified my curiosity, I was extremely desirous to return to Madras with my little treasure. The five years' salary due to me by the East India Company, which I had never used, I had put out at interest at Madras, where sometimes the rate was as high as twelve per cent.; and if you knew (said Mr. Jervas, addressing himself to the miners at Mr. R——'s table) any thing of the nature of compound interest, you would perceive that I was in a fair way to get rich: for, in the course of fourteen or fifteen years, any sum that is put out at compound interest, even in England, where the rate of legal interest is five per cent., becomes double; that is, one hundred pounds put out at compound interest, in fourteen years, becomes two hundred. But few people have the patience, or the prudence, to make this use of their money. I was, however, determined to employ all my capital in this manner; and I calculated that, in seven years, I should have accumulated a sum fully sufficient to support me all the rest of my life in ease and affluence.

"Full of these hopes and calculations, I pursued my journey along with the merchants. Arrived at Devanelli Fort, I learned that the Soubha, with whom the sultan had been going to war, had given up the territory in dispute, and had pacified Tippoo by submissions and presents. Whether he chose peace or war was indifferent to me: I was intent on my private affairs, and I went immediately to Omychund, my banker, to settle them. I had taken my diamond ring with me to the mines, that I might compare it with others, and learn its value; and I found that it was worth nearly treble what I had been offered for it. Omychund congratulated me upon this discovery, and we were just going to settle our accounts, when an officer came in, and, after asking whether I was not the young Englishman who had lately visited the mines of Golconda, summoned me immediately to appear before the sultan. I was terrified, for I imagined I was perhaps suspected of having purloined some of the diamonds; but I followed the officer without hesitation, conscious of my innocence.

"Tippoo Sultan, contrary to my expectations, received me with a smiling countenance; and, pointing to the officer who accompanied me, asked me whether I recollected to have ever seen his face before? I replied, No: but the sultan then informed me that this officer, who was one of his own guards, had attended me in disguise during my whole visit to the diamond mines; and that he was perfectly satisfied of my honourable conduct. Then, after making a signal to the officer and all present to withdraw, he bade me approach nearer to him; paid some compliments to my abilities, and proceeded to explain to me that he stood in farther need of my services; and that, if I served him with fidelity, I should have no reason to complain, on my return to my own country, of his want of generosity.

"All thoughts of war being now, as he told me, out of his mind, he had leisure for other projects to enrich himself; and he was determined to begin by reforming certain abuses, which had long tended to impoverish the royal treasury. I was at a loss to know whither this preamble would lead: at length, having exhausted his oriental pomp of words, he concluded by informing me that he had reason to believe he was terribly cheated in the management of his mines at Golconda; that they were rented from him by a Feulinga Brahmin, as he called him, whose agreement with the adventurers in the mines was, that all the stones they found under a pago in weight were to be their own; and all above this weight were to be his, for the sultan's use. Now it seems that this agreement was never honestly fulfilled by any of the parties: the slaves cheating the merchants, the merchants cheating the Feulinga Brahmin, and he, in his turn, defrauding the sultan; so that, Tippoo assured me, he had often purchased, from diamond merchants, stones of a larger spread and finer water than any he could get directly from his own mines; and that he had been frequently obliged to reward these merchants with rich vests, or fine horses, in order to encourage others to offer their diamonds [Footnote: Philosophical Transactions, vol. ii. p.472.] for sale.

"I could not but observe, whilst Tippoo related all this, the great agitation of his looks and voice, which showed me the strong hold the passion for diamonds had upon his soul; on which I should perhaps have made some wise reflections, but that people have seldom leisure or inclination to make wise reflections when standing in the presence of a prince as powerful and as despotic as Tippoo Sultan.

"The service that he required from me was a very dangerous one; no less than to visit the mines secretly by night, to search those small cisterns in which the workmen leave the diamonds mixed with the sand, gravelly stuff, and red earth, to sink and drain off during their absence. I by no means relished this undertaking: besides that it would expose me to imminent danger, it was odious to my feelings to become a spy and an informer. This I stated to the sultan, but he gave no credit to this motive; and, attributing my reluctance wholly to fear, he promised that he would take effectual measures to secure my safety; and that, after I had executed this commission, he would immediately send a guard with me to Madras. I saw that a dark frown lowered on his brow, when I persisted in declining this office; but I fortunately bethought myself at this moment of a method of escaping the effects of his anger, without giving up my own principles.

"I represented to him that the seizure of the diamonds in the cisterns, which he proposed, even should it afford him any convincing proofs of the dishonesty of the slaves and diamond merchants, and even if he could in future take effectual precautions to secure himself from their frauds, would not be a source of wealth to him equal to one which I could propose. His avarice fixed his attention, and he eagerly commanded me to proceed. I then explained to him that one of his richest diamond-mines had been for some time abandoned; because the workmen, having dug till they came to water, were then forced to stop for want of engines such as are known in Europe. Now, having observed that there was a rapid current at the foot of the mountain, on which I could erect a water-mill, I offered to clear this valuable mine."



CHAPTER V.

"The sultan was pleased with the proposal; but, recollecting how apt he was to change his humour, and how ill he received me when I returned from his tin-mines, I had the precaution to represent that, as this undertaking would be attended with considerable expense, it would be necessary that a year's salary should be advanced to me before my departure for Golconda; and that, if the payments were not in future regularly made, I should be at liberty to resign my employment, and return to Madras. Prince Abdul Calie was present when the sultan pledged his word to this, and gave me full powers to employ certain of his artificers and workmen.

"I shall not trouble you with a history of all my difficulties, delays, and disappointments, in the execution of my undertaking; however interesting they were to me, the relation would be tiresome to those who have no diamond-mines to drain. It is enough for you to know that at length my engines were set a-going properly, and did their business so effectually, that the place was by degrees cleared of water, and the workmen were able to open fresh and valuable veins. During all this time, including a period of three years, my salary was regularly paid to the Gentoo merchant, Omychund, in whose hands I left all my money, upon his promising to pay me as high interest as what I could obtain at Madras. I drew upon him only for such small sums as were absolutely necessary; as I was resolved to live with the utmost economy, that I might the sooner be enabled to return in affluence to my native country.

"And here I must pause to praise myself, or rather to rejoice from the bottom of my soul, that I did not, when power was in my hands, make use of it for the purposes of extortion. The condition of the poor slaves, who were employed by me, was envied by all the others: and I have reason to know that, even in the most debased and miserable state of existence, the human heart can be wakened by kind treatment to feelings of affection and gratitude. These slaves became so much attached to me that, although the governor of the mines, and certain diamond merchants, were lying in wait continually to get rid of me some way or other, they never could effect their purposes. I was always apprised of my danger in time by some of these trusty slaves; who, with astonishing sagacity and fidelity, guarded me while I lived amongst them.

"A life of daily suspicion and danger was, however, terrible; and my influence extended but a little way in making others happy. I might, for a short season, lessen the suffering of these slaves; but still they were slaves, and most of them were treated scarcely as if they were human beings, by the rapacious adventurers for whom they laboured.

"These poor wretches generally work almost naked; they dare not wear a coat, lest the governor should say they have thriven much, are rich, and so increase his demands upon them. The wisest, when they find a great stone, conceal it till they have an opportunity; and then, with wife and children, run all away into the Visiapore country, where they are secure and well used. [Footnote: Philosophical Transactions.]

"My heart sickened at the daily sight of so much misery; and nothing but my hopes of finally prevailing on the sultan to better their condition, by showing him how much he would be the gainer by it, could have induced me to remain so long in this situation. Repeatedly Tippoo promised me that the first diamond of twenty pagos weight which I should bring to him, he would grant me all I asked in favour of the slaves under my care. I imparted to them this promise, which excited them to great exertions. At last we were fortunate enough to find a diamond above the weight required. It was a well-spread stone, of a beautiful pale rose-colour, and of an adamantine hardness. I am sure that the sight of that famous stone, which is known by the name of the Pitt diamond, never gave its possessor such heartfelt joy as I experienced when I beheld this. I looked upon it as the pledge of future happiness, not only to myself, but to hundreds of my fellow-creatures.

"I set out immediately for Tippoo Sultan's court. It was too late in the evening, when I arrived, to see the sultan that night; so I went to Omychund, the Hindoo merchant, to settle my affairs with him. He received me with open arms, saying that he had thriven much upon my pagodas and rupees, and that he was ready to account with me for my salary; also for the interest which he owed me; for all which he gave me an order upon an English merchant at Madras, with whom I was well acquainted.

"This being settled to my satisfaction, I told him the business which now brought me to Tippoo's court, and showed him my rose-coloured diamond. His eyes opened at the sight with a prodigious expression of avaricious eagerness. 'Trust me,' said he, 'keep this diamond. I know Tippoo better than you do; he will not grant those privileges to the slaves that you talk about; and, after all, what concern are they of yours? They are used to the life they lead. They are not Europeans. What concern are they of yours? Once in your native country, you will dream of them no more. You will think only of enjoying the wealth you shall have brought from India. Trust me, keep the diamond. Fly this night towards Madras. I have a slave who perfectly knows the road across the country: you will be in no danger of pursuit, for the sultan will suppose you to be still at Golconda. No one could inform him of the truth but myself; and you must see, by the advice I now give you, that I am your firm friend.'

"As he finished these words, he clapped his hands, to summon one of his slaves, as he said, to give instant orders for my flight. He looked upon me with incredulous surprise, when I coolly told him that the flight which he proposed was far from my thoughts; and that it was my determination to give the sultan the diamond that belonged to him.

"Seeing that I was in earnest, Omychund suddenly changed his countenance; and in a tone of raillery, asked me whether I could believe that his proposal was serious. Indeed I was left in doubt whether he had been in earnest or not; and, at all events, I gave him to understand that I was incapable of betraying him to the sultan.

"The next morning, as early as I could, I presented myself before the sultan, who singled me from the crowd, and took me with him into the apartment of Prince Abdul Calie.

"I proceeded cautiously: Tippoo was all impatience to hear news of his diamond mine, and repeatedly interrupted me in my account of what had been done there, by asking whether we had yet come to any diamonds? I produced first one of a violet colour, which I had reserved as a present for Prince Abdul Calie; it was a fine stone, but nothing equal to our rose-coloured diamond. Tippoo admired this, however, so much, that I was certain he would be in raptures with that which I had in store for him. Before I showed it to him, in speaking of the weight of that which I had designed to present to the prince, I reminded him of his royal promise with respect to the slaves. 'True,' cried the sultan: 'but is this diamond twenty pagos weight? when you bring me one of that value, you may depend upon having all you ask.' I instantly produced the rose-coloured diamond, weighed it in his presence, and, as the scale in which it was put descended, Tippoo burst forth into an exclamation of joy. I seized the favourable moment; he nodded as I knelt before him, and bade me rise, saying my request was granted; though why I should ask favours for a parcel of mean slaves, he observed, was incomprehensible.

"Prince Abdul Calie did not appear to be of this opinion; he at this instant cast upon me a look full of benevolence; and whilst his father was absorbed in the contemplation of his rose-coloured diamond, which he weighed, I believe, a hundred times, the generous young prince presented to me that violet-coloured diamond which I brought for him. A princely gift made in a princely manner.

"Tippoo's secretary made out for me the necessary order to the governor of the mines, by which a certain share of the profits of his labour was, by the sultan's command, to belong to each slave; and all those who had been employed in my service were, as a reward for their good conduct, to be emancipated. A number of petty exactions were by this order abolished; and the property acquired in land, dress, &c. by the slaves, was secured to them. Most gladly did I see the sultan's signet affixed to this paper; and when it was delivered into my hands, my heart bounded with joy. I resolved to be the bearer of these good tidings myself. Although my passport was made out for Madras, and two hircarrahs, by the sultan's orders, were actually ready to attend me thither, yet I could not refuse myself the pleasure of beholding the joy of the slaves, at this change in their condition; and, to the latest hour of my life, I shall rejoice that I returned to Golconda the messenger of happiness. Never shall I forget the scene to which I was there a witness; never will the expressions of joy and gratitude be effaced from my memory, which lighted up the dark faces of these poor creatures! who, say what we will, have as much sensibility, perhaps more, than we have ourselves.

"No sooner was I awake, the morning after my arrival, than I heard them singing songs under my window, in which my own name was frequently repeated. They received me with a shout of joy when I went out amongst them; and, crowding round me, they pressed me to accept of some little tokens of their gratitude and good-will, which I had not the heart to refuse. The very children, by their caresses, seemed to beg me not to reject these little offerings. I determined, if ever I reached Europe, to give all of them to you, sir, my good master, as the best present I could make to one of your way of thinking.

"The day after my arrival was spent in rejoicings. All the slaves, who had worked under my inspection, had saved some little matters, with which they had purchased for their wives and for themselves coloured cottons, and handkerchiefs for their heads. Now that they were not in dread of being robbed or persecuted by the governor of the mines, they ventured to produce them in open day. These cottons of Malabar are dyed of remarkably bright and gaudy colours; and, when the slaves appeared decked in them, it was to me one of the gayest spectacles I ever beheld. They were dancing with a degree of animation of which, till then, I never had an idea.

"I stood under the shade of a large banyan tree, enjoying the sight; when suddenly I felt from behind a blow on my head which stunned me. I fell to the ground; and when I came to my senses, found myself in the hands of four armed soldiers, and a Hindoo, who was pulling my diamond ring from my finger. They were carrying me away amid the cries and lamentations of the slaves, who followed us. 'Stand off'! it is in vain you shriek,' said one of the soldiers to the surrounding crowd; 'what we do is by order of the sultan. Thus he punishes traitors.'

"Without further explanation, I was thrown into a dungeon belonging to the governor of the mines, who stood by with insulting joy to see me chained to a large stone in my horrid prison. I knew him to be my enemy: but what was my astonishment when I recollected in the countenance of the Hindoo, who was fastening my chains and loading me with curses, that very Saheb, whose life I had formerly saved! To all my questions no answer was given, but, 'It is the will of the sultan;' or, 'Thus the sultan avenges himself upon traitors.'

"The door of my dungeon was then locked and barred, and I was left alone in perfect darkness. Is this, thought I, the reward of all my faithful services? Bitterly did I regret that I was not in my native country, where no man, at the will of a sultan, can be thrown into a dungeon, without knowing his crime or his accusers. I cannot attempt to describe to you what I felt, during this most miserable day of my existence. Feeble at last, for want of food, I stretched myself out, as well as my chains would allow me, and tried to compose myself to sleep. I sunk into a state of insensibility, in which I must have remained for several hours, for it was midnight when I was roused by the unbarring of my prison door. It was Saheb who entered, carrying in one hand a torch, and in the other some food, which he set before me in silence. I cast upon him a look of scorn, and was about to reproach him with his ingratitude, when he threw himself at my feet, and burst into tears. 'Is it possible,' said he to me, 'that you are not sure of the heart of Saheb? You saved my life; I am come to save yours. But eat, master,' continued he; 'eat whilst I speak, for we have no time to lose. To-morrow's sun must see us far from hence. You cannot support the fatigues you have to undergo without taking food.'

"I yielded to his entreaties, and, whilst I ate, Saheb informed me that my imprisonment was owing to the treacherous Hindoo merchant, Omychund; who, in hopes, I suppose, of possessing himself in quiet of all the wealth which I had intrusted to his care, went to the sultan, and accused me of having secreted certain diamonds of great value, which he pretended I had shown to him in confidence. Tippoo, enraged at this, despatched immediate orders to four of his soldiers to go in search of me, seize, imprison, and torture me, till I should confess where these diamonds were concealed. Saheb was in the sultan's apartment when this order was given, and immediately hastened to Prince Abdul Calie, whom he knew to be my friend, and informed him of what had happened. The prince sent for Omychund, and, after carefully questioning him, was convinced, by his contradictory answers, and by his confusion, that the charge against me was wholly unfounded: he dismissed Omychund, however, without letting him know his opinion, and then sent Saheb for the four soldiers who were setting out in search of me. In their presence he gave Saheb orders aloud to take charge of me the moment I should be found, and secretly commissioned him to favour my escape. The soldiers thought that in obeying the prince they obeyed the sultan; and, consequently, when I was taken and lodged in my dungeon, the keys of it were delivered to Saheb.

"When he had finished telling me all this, he restored to me my ring, which he said he snatched from my finger, as soon as I was seized, that I might not be robbed of it by the governor, or some of the soldiers.

"The grateful Saheb now struck off my chains; and my own anxiety for my escape was scarcely equal to his. He had swift horses belonging to the soldiers in readiness; and we pursued our course all night without interruption. He was well acquainted with the country, having accompanied the sultan on several expeditions. When we thought ourselves beyond the reach of all pursuers, Saheb permitted me to rest; but I never rested at my ease till I was out of Tippoo Sultan's dominions, and once more in safety at Madras. Dr. Bell received me with great kindness, heard my story, and congratulated me on my escape from Tippoo's power.

"I was now rich beyond my hopes; for I had Omychund's order upon the Madras merchant safe in my pocket, and the whole sum was punctually paid to me. My ring I sold to the governor of Madras for more even than I expected.

"I had the satisfaction to learn, before I left Madras, that Omychund's treachery was made known to the sultan, by means of Prince Abdul Calie, whose memory will ever be dear to me. Tippoo, as I have been informed, in speaking of me, was heard to regret that he could not recall to his service such an honest Englishman.

"I was eager to reward the faithful Saheb, but he absolutely refused the money which I offered him, saying, 'that he would not be paid for saving the life of one who had saved his.' He expressed a great desire to accompany me to my native country, from the moment that I told him we had no slaves there; and that as soon as any slave touched the English shore, by our laws, he obtained his freedom. He pressed me so earnestly to take him along with me as my servant, that I could not refuse; so he sailed with me for Europe. As the wind filled the sails of our vessel, much did I rejoice that the gales which blew me from the shores of India were not tainted with the curses of any of my fellow-creatures. Here I am, thank Heaven! once more in free and happy England, with a good fortune, clean hands, and a pure conscience, not unworthy to present myself to my first good master, to him whose humanity and generosity were the cause of—"

Here Mr. R—— interrupted his own praises, by saying to those of the miners who had not fallen fast asleep, "My good friends, you now know the meaning of the toast which you all drank after dinner; let us drink it again before we part 'Welcome home to our friend, Mr. Jervas, and may good faith always meet with good fortune!'"

October, 1799.



THE WILL



CHAPTER I.

Mr. Pearson, a wealthy Lincolnshire farmer, who had always been esteemed a prudent sensible man, though something of a humourist, made the following will:

"I, John Pearson, of The Wold in Lincolnshire, farmer, being of sound mind and body, do make this my last will and testament, &c.

"I give and bequeath my farm of West Woldland to my eldest nephew, Grimes Goodenough; my farm of Holland Fen to my dear nephew, John Wright, and my farm of Clover-hill to my youngest nephew, Pierce Marvel.

"I farther will and desire that the sum of ten thousand pounds, which is now in the hands of William Constantine, gentleman, my executor, may by him, immediately after my decease, be put out to interest for ten years: and I will and desire that, at the end of the said ten years, the said sum of ten thousand pounds, and the interest so accumulated thereon, be given to whichsoever of my aforesaid nephews shall at that time be the richest.

"And I trust that the said William Constantine, gentleman, my executor and very good friend, being a clear-headed honest man, will understand and execute this my last will and testament, according to the plain meaning of my words; though it should happen that this my will should not be drawn up in due legal form, of which I know little or nothing."

Mr. Constantine, the executor, being, as described, a clear-headed honest man, found no difficulty either in understanding or executing this trust: the ten thousand pounds were, immediately upon Pearson's decease, placed out upon interest; and the three nephews were put into possession of their farms. These were of very different value. Goodenough's wanted improvement, but would pay richly for any that should be judiciously made; Wright's farm was by far the worst of the three; and Marvel's the best.

The Lincolnshire world was much divided in opinion concerning these young men; and many bets were laid relating to the legacy. People judged according to their own characters; the enterprising declared for Marvel, the prudent for Wright, the timid for Goodenough.

The nephews had scarcely been in possession of their farms a week when, one evening, as they were all supping together at Wright's house, Marvel suddenly turned to Goodenough, and exclaimed, "When do you begin your improvements, cousin Goodenough?"

"Never, cousin Marvel."

"Then you'll never touch the ten thousand, my boy. What! will you do nothing to your marsh? Nothing to your common? Nothing to your plantations? Do not you mean ever to make any improvements?"

"I mean not to make any improvements."

"Well, you'll let me make some for you."

"Not I."

"No! Won't you let me cut down some of those trees for you, that are spoiling one another in your wood?"

"Not a tree shall be cut down. Not a stick shall be stirred. Not a change shall be made, I say."

"Not a change for the better, cousin Goodenough?" said Wright.

"Not a change can be for the better, to my mind; I shall plough, and sow, and reap, as our forefathers did, and that's enough for me."

"What! will you not even try the new plough?" said Marvel.

"Not I; no new ploughs for me. No plough can be so good as the old one."

"How do you know, as you never tried it, or would see it tried?" said Wright: "I find it better than the old one."

"No matter; the old one will do well enough for me, as it did for my father before me." After having repeated these words in precisely the same tone several times, he went on slowly eating his supper, whilst Marvel, in detestation of his obstinate stupidity, turned his back upon him, and began to enumerate to Wright sundry of his own ingenious projects.

"My dear Wright," said he, "you are worth talking to, and you shall hear all my schemes."

"Willingly; but I do not promise to approve of them all."

"Oh! you will, you will, the moment you hear them; and I will let you have a share in some of them. In the first place, there's that fine rabbit-warren near Clover-hill. The true silver grey rabbits—silver sprigs, they call them—do you know that the skins of those silver sprigs are worth any money?"

"Any money! what money?"

"Pooh! I don't know exactly: but I mean to buy that warren."

"Before you know what it is worth! Let us consider; each dozen of skins is worth, say, from ten to fifteen shillings."

"You need not trouble yourself to calculate now," interrupted Marvel, "for I have determined to have the warren. With the money that I shall get for my silver sprigs, I will next year make a decoy, and supply the London market with wild-fowl. Don't you remember the day that we met Simon Stubbs, the carrier, loaded with game and wild-fowl, he said that a decoy in Lincolnshire must be a fortune to any man. I'll have the best decoy not only in Lincolnshire but in all England. By-the-bye, there's another thing I must do, Wright; I'll exchange any part of Clover-hill you please with you, for as much land in Holland Fen."

"Take him at his word, cousin Wright," said Goodenough.

"No, no," replied Wright; "I know the value of land, and the difference between Clover-hill and Holland Fen, better than he does: I would not take him at his word, for that would be taking him in."

"I would not take anybody in," said Goodenough; "but if another man is a fool, that's no reason I should be one. Now, if a man offers me a good bargain, why should not I close with him, and say—Done?" "Then say done," cried Marvel, "and you shall have the bargain, Goodenough. You have an undrained marsh of your own: I'll exchange with you, and welcome, ten acres of the marsh for five of Clover-hill."

"Done," said Goodenough.

"Done. I shall stock it with geese, and you'll see what the quills and feathers alone will bring me in. I've engaged with one already to sell them for me. But, Wright, here's another scheme I have. Wildmore common, you know, is covered with those huge thistles, which prick the noses of the sheep so as to hinder them from feeding and fattening: I will take that common into my own hands."

"Ay," said Goodenough; "exchange the rest of Clover-hill for it:—that's like you!"

"And I will mow the thistles," pursued Marvel, without deigning to reply to Goodenough. "I will mow the thistles; their down I can contrive to work up into cotton, and the stalks into cordage: and, with the profit I shall make of these thistles, and of my decoy, and of my goose-quills and feathers, and of my silver sprig rabbits, I will buy jackets for my sheep, for my sheep shall all have jackets after shearing. Why should not Lincolnshire sheep, if they have jackets, become as valuable as the Leicestershire breed? You'll see my sheep will be the finest in the whole county; and, with the profit I shall make of them, I will set up a fishery in Fen-lake; and with the profits of the fishery—now comes my grand scheme—I shall be the richest of you all! with the profits of the fishery, and the decoy, and the sheep, and the silver sprigs, and the quills and feathers, geese and thistles, I will purchase that fine heronry, near Spalding."

At these words, Goodenough laid down his knife and fork; and, sticking his arms a-kimbo, laughed contemptuously, if not heartily.

"So, then, the end of all this turmoil is to purchase a heronry! Much good may it do you, cousin Marvel. You understand your own affair best: you will make great improvements, I grant, and no doubt will be the richest of us all. The ten thousand pounds will be yours for certain: for, as we all know, cousin Marvel, you are a genius!—But why a genius should set his fancy upon a heronry, of all things in this mortal world, is more than I can pretend to tell, being no genius myself."

"Look here, Wright," continued Marvel, still without vouchsafing any direct reply to Goodenough: "here's a description, in this last newspaper, of the fine present that the grand seignior has made to his majesty. The plume of herons' feathers alone is estimated at a thousand guineas! Think of what I shall make by my heronry! At the end of ten years, I shall be so rich that it will hardly be worth my while," said Marvel, laughing, "to accept of my uncle's legacy. I will give it to you, Wright; for you are a generous fellow, and I am sure you will deserve it."

In return for this liberal promise, Wright endeavoured to convince Marvel, that if he attempted such a variety of schemes at once, they would probably all fail; and that to ensure success, it would be necessary to calculate, and to make himself master of the business, before he should undertake to conduct it. Marvel, however, was of too sanguine and presumptuous a temper to listen to this sage advice: he was piqued by the sneers of his cousin Goodenough, and determined to prove the superiority of his own spirit and intellect. He plunged at once into the midst of a business which he did not understand. He took a rabbit-warren of two hundred and fifty acres into his hands; stocked ten acres of marsh land with geese; and exchanged some of the best part of Clover-hill for a share in a common covered with thistles. He planted a considerable tract of land, with a degree of expedition that astonished all the neighbourhood: but it was remarked that the fences were not quite sufficient; especially as the young trees were in a dangerous situation, being surrounded by land stocked with sheep and horned cattle. Wright warned him of the danger; but he had no time this year, he said, to complete the fences: the men who tended his sheep might easily keep them from the plantation for this season, and the next spring he purposed to dig such a ditch round the whole as should secure it for ever. He was now extremely busy, making jackets for his sheep, providing willows for his decoy, and gorse and corn for his geese: the geese, of which he had a prodigious flock, were not yet turned into their fen, because a new scheme had occurred to Marvel, relative to some reeds with which a part of this fen was covered; on these reeds myriads of starlings were accustomed to roost, who broke them down with their weight. Now Marvel knew that such reeds would be valuable for thatching, and with this view he determined to drive away the starlings; but the measures necessary for this purpose would frighten his friends, the geese, and therefore he was obliged to protect and feed them in his farm-yard, at a considerable expense, whilst he was carrying on the war with the starlings. He fired guns at them morning and evening, he sent up rockets and kites with fiery tails, and at last he banished them; but half his geese, in the mean time, died for want of food; and the women and children, who plucked them, stole one quarter of the feathers, and one half of the quills, whilst Marvel was absent letting up rockets in the fen.

The rabbit-warren was, however, to make up for all other losses: a furrier had engaged to take as many silver sprigs from him as he pleased, at sixteen shillings a dozen, provided he should send them properly dressed, and in time to be shipped for China, where these silver grey rabbit skins sold to the best advantage. As winter came on, it was necessary to supply the warren with winter food: and Marvel was much astonished at the multitude of unforeseen expenses into which his rabbits led him. The banks of the warren wanted repair, and the warrener's house was not habitable in bad weather: these appeared but slight circumstances when Marvel made the purchase; but, alas! he had reason to change his opinion in the course of a few months. The first week in November, there was a heavy fall of snow; and the warren walls should have been immediately cleared of snow, to have kept the rabbits within their bounds: but Marvel happened this week to be on a visit in Yorkshire, and he was obliged to leave the care of the warren entirely to the warrener, who was obliged to quit his house during the snow, and to take shelter with a neighbour: he neglected to clear the walls; and Marvel upon his return home, found that his silver sprigs had strayed into a neighbouring warren. The second week in November is the time when the rabbits are usually killed, as the skins are then in full prime: it was in vain that Marvel raised a hue and cry after his silver sprigs; a fortnight passed away before one-third of them could be recovered. The season was lost, and the furrier sued him for breach of contract; and what was worse, Goodenough laughed at his misfortunes. The next year he expected to retrieve his loss: he repaired the warrener's house, new faced the banks, and capped them with furze; but the common grey rabbit had been introduced into the warren, by the stragglers of the preceding year; and as these grey rabbits are of a much more hardy race than the silver sprigs, they soon obtained and kept possession of the land. Marvel now pronounced rabbits to be the most useless and vexatious animals upon earth; and, in one quarter of an hour, thoroughly convinced himself that tillage was far more profitable than rabbits. He ploughed up his warren, and sowed it with corn; but, unluckily, his attention had been so much taken up by the fishery, the decoy, the geese, the thistles, and the hopes of the heronry, that he totally forgot his intention of making the best of all possible ditches round his plantation. When he went to visit this plantation, he beheld a miserable spectacle: the rabbits which had strayed beyond their bounds during the great snow, and those which had been hunted from their burrows, when the warren was ploughed up, had all taken shelter in this spot; and these refugees supported themselves, for some months, upon the bark and roots of the finest young trees.

Marvel's loss was great, but his mortification still greater; for his cousin Goodenough laughed at him without mercy. Something must be done, he saw, to retrieve his credit: ad the heronry was his resource.

"What will signify a few trees, more or less," thought he, "or the loss of a few silver sprigs, or the death of a few geese, or the waste of a few quills and feathers? My sheep will sell well, my thistles will bring me up again; and as soon as I have sold my sheep at Partney fair, and manufactured my thistles, I will set out with my money in my pocket for Spalding, and make my bargain for the heronry. A plume of herons' feathers is worth a thousand guineas! My fortune will be made when I get possession of the Spalding heronry."

So intent was Marvel upon the thoughts of the Spalding heronry, that he neglected every thing else. About a week before the fair of Partney, he bethought himself of his sheep, which he had left to the care of a shepherd boy: he now ordered the boy to drive them home, that he might see them. Their jackets hung upon them like bags: the poor animals had fallen away in the most deplorable manner. Marvel could scarcely believe that these were his sheep; or that these were the sheep which he had expected to be the pride of Lincolnshire, and which he had hoped would set the fashion of jackets. Behold, they were dying of the rot!

"What an unfortunate man I am!" exclaimed Marvel, turning to his cousin Wright, whom he had summoned along with Goodenough, in the pride of his heart, to view, value, and admire his sheep. "All your sheep, Wright, are fat and sound: mine were finer than yours when I bought them: how comes it that I am so unlucky?"

"Jack of all trades, and master of none!" said Goodenough, with a sneer.

"You forgot, I am afraid, what I told you, when first you bought these sheep," said Wright, "that you should always keep them in fold, every morning, till the dew was off: if you had done so, they would now be as well and thriving as mine. Do not you remember my telling you that?"

"Yes; and I charged this boy always to keep them in fold till the dew was off," replied Marvel, turning with an angry countenance to the shepherd boy.

"I never heard nothing of it till this minute, I am sure, master," said the boy.

Marvel now recollected that, at the very moment when he was going to give this order to the boy, his attention had been drawn away by the sight of a new decoy in the fields adjoining to his sheep pasture. In his haste to examine the decoy, he forgot to give that order to his shepherd, on which the safety of his fine flock of sheep depended. [Footnote: A General View of the Agriculture of the County of Lincoln, p. 330. "It well deserves noting that a shepherd, who, when young, was shepherd's boy to an old man, who lived at Netlam, near Lincoln, a place famous for the rot, told Mr. Neve that he was persuaded sheep took the rot only of a morning, before the dew was well off. At that time they folded, being open field: his master's shepherd kept his flock in fold always till the dew was gone; and, with no other attention, his sheep were kept sound, when all the neighbours lost their flocks."] Such are the negligences and blunders of those who endeavour to do half a dozen things at once.

The failure of one undertaking never discouraged Marvel from beginning another; and it is a pity, that, with so much spirit and activity, he had so little steadiness and prudence. His sheep died, and he set out for Spalding full of the thoughts of the heronry. Now this heronry belonged to Sir Plantagenet Mowbray, an elderly gentleman, who was almost distracted with family pride: he valued himself upon never having parted with one inch of the landed property that had descended to him, through a long line of ancestors, from the Plantagenets. He looked down upon the whole race of farmers and traders as beings of a different species from himself; and the indignation with which he heard, from a Lincolnshire farmer, a proposal to purchase his heronry, may perhaps be imagined, but cannot be described. It was in vain that Marvel rose in his offers; it was in vain that he declared he was ready to give any price that Sir Plantagenet would set upon the heronry. Sir Plantagenet sent word, by his steward, that not a feather of his birds should be touched; that he was astonished at the insolence of such a proposal; and that he advised Marvel to keep out of the way of his people, lest they should revenge the insult that had been offered to their master.

This haughty answer, and the disappointment of all his hopes and schemes respecting the heronry, threw Marvel into a degree of rage scarcely inferior to what was felt by Sir Plantagenet. As he was galloping down the avenue from Plantagenet-hall, he overtook a young man, of a shabby appearance, who was mounted upon a very fine horse. At first Marvel took it for granted that he was one of Sir Plantagenet's people, and he was riding past him, when he heard the stranger say, in a friendly tone, "Your horse gallops well, sir: but have a care; there's a carrion a little way farther on that may startle him."

Marvel pulled in his horse; the stranger rode up beside him, and they entered into conversation. "That carrion, sir," said he, pointing to the dead horse, which had just been shot for the baronet's son's hounds, "that carrion, sir, was in my opinion the best horse Sir Plantagenet, or his son either, were possessed of. 'Tis a shame for any man, who pretends to be a gentleman, and who talks this way and that so high of his family, should be so stingy in the article of horseflesh."

Marvel was not unwilling at this instant to hear the haughty baronet blamed and ridiculed; and his companion exactly fell in with his humour, by telling a variety of anecdotes to prove Sir Plantagenet to be every thing that was odious and contemptible. The history of his insolence about the heronry was now related by Marvel; and the stranger seemed to sympathize so much in his feelings, that, from a stranger, he began to consider him as a friend. Insensibly the conversation returned to the point at which it commenced; and his new friend observed that it was in vain to expect any thing good from any gentleman, or indeed from any man, who was stingy in the article of horseflesh.

A new sense of honour and of shame began to rise in our hero's mind; and he sat uneasy in his saddle, whilst he reflected that the horse upon which he was mounted, was perhaps as deservedly an object of contempt as any of Sir Plantagenet's stud. His new friend, without seeming to notice his embarrassment, continued his conversation, and drew a tempting picture of the pleasures and glories of a horse-race: he said, "he was just training a horse for the York races, and a finer animal never was crossed. Sir Plantagenet's eldest son would have been the proudest and happiest of men, if his father would but have bought the horse for him: but he had refused, and the youth himself had not the price, or half the price, at his command."

Our hero was no judge of horses, but he was ambitious to prove that his spirit was superior to that of the haughty baronet; and that something good might be expected from him, as he was not stingy in horseflesh. Besides, he was worked up to a high degree of curiosity to see the York races; and his companion assured him that he could not appear there without being well mounted. In short, the hour was not at an end before he had offered a hundred guineas for the finest horse that ever was crossed. He was charmed with the idea that he should meet Sir Plantagenet Mowbray's son and heir at the York races, and should show him that he was able and willing to pay for the horse, which his arrogant father could not afford to purchase.

From the anecdote of the heronry, his companion perceived that Marvel was a man fond of projects; and he proposed to him a scheme, which caught his fancy so much that it consoled him for his disappointment. It was the fault of our enterprizing hero's character always to think the last scheme for making a fortune the best. As soon as he reached home he was in haste to abandon some of his old projects, which now appeared to him flat, stale, and unprofitable. About a score of his flock, though tainted with the rot, were not yet dead; he was eager to sell them, but no one would buy sheep of such a wretched appearance. At last Wright took them off his hands. "I will throw the threescore jackets into the bargain," said Marvel; "for you are a generous fellow, to offer so handsomely for my poor sheep, and you deserve to be treated as you treat others. If I come in at the end of the ten years for the legacy, I shall remember you, as I told you before: as to my cousin Goodenough here, he thinks so much of himself, that there is no occasion for others to think of him. I asked him to join me in a bond, yesterday, for a hundred pounds, just to try him, and he refused me. When I come in for the legacy, I will cut him off with a shilling,—I will give him fair notice."

"Cut me off with what you will," said Goodenough, sullenly, "not a farthing of my money shall ever be lent to one that has a project for every day in the year. Get into what difficulties you may, I will never join you in any bond, I promise you. It is enough for me to take care of myself."

"Don't flatter yourself that I am getting into any difficulties," replied Marvel. "I wanted the hundred guineas only to pay for a horse; and the friend who sold him to me will wait my convenience."

"The friend" said Wright; "do you mean that man who rode home with you from Spalding?—I advise you not to make a friend of him, for he is a notorious jockey." "He will not take me in, though," said Marvel; "I am as sharp as he is, and he sees that: so we understand one another very well. To my certain knowledge, a hundred and twenty guineas could be had to-morrow for the horse I bought from him; yet he let me have him for a hundred."

"And how can a man of your sense, cousin Marvel," said Wright, "believe that a person, who never saw you till within these three days, would be so much your friend as to make you a present of twenty guineas?"

"A present!"

"Yes; if he lets you have a horse for a hundred, which you can sell for a hundred and twenty, does not he make you a present of twenty guineas?"

"Well, but I can tell you the reason for all that: he wants me to enter into a scheme with him, for breeding horses on the common here: and so he would not, at first setting out, stand to higgle with me for the price of a horse."

"And would you for twenty guineas, cousin Marvel, run the hazard of joining in any scheme with a man of his character? Pray inquire in the country and in York, where you are going, what sort of a character this man bears. Take my advice, pay him for his horse, and have nothing more to do with him."

"But I have not the ready cash to pay him for his horse, that's one thing," said Marvel.

"Let that be no difficulty," replied Wright; "for I have a hundred guineas here, just brought home from Partney fair, and they are heartily at your service."

Goodenough twitched Wright's elbow three times as he uttered these words: but Wright finished his sentence, and put the money into Marvel's hands immediately upon his promising to pay for the horse, break off all connexion with his friend the jockey, if he should find upon inquiry that he was not a person of good character, and at all events to suspend any treaty with him till after his return from York.

"Whilst you are gone," said Wright, "I will make inquiries about the profit of breeding of horses on the commons. I have an acquaintance, a sensible old man, who has kept accounts of what he has done in that way himself; and he will show us his accounts, from which we shall be able to judge."



CHAPTER II.

Wright heard nothing more of him for about a fortnight; he then received the following letter:

"DEAR COUSIN WRIGHT,

"It is a very great pity that you could not be persuaded to come along with me to York races, where I have seen more of life, and of the world, in a week, than ever I did in all my life before.—York is a surprising fine town; and has a handsome cathedral, and assembly-room: but I am not in the humour, just now, to describe them: so I shall proceed to what is much better worth thinking of.

"You must know, cousin Wright, that I am in love, and never was I so happy or so miserable in my days. If I was not a farmer there would be some hopes for me; but, to be sure, it is not to be expected that such a lady as she is should think of a mere country booby; in which light, indeed, she was pleased to say, as I heard from good authority, she did not consider me; though my manners wanted polish. These were her own words. I shall spare nothing to please her, if possible, and am not wholly without hope, though I have a powerful rival; no less a person than the eldest son and heir of Sir Plantagenet Mowbray, Bart. But her virtue will never, I am persuaded, suffer her to listen to such addresses as his. Now mine are honourable, and pure as her soul; the purity of which no one could doubt, who had seen her last night, as I did, in the character of the Fair Penitent. She was universally admired: and another night sung and danced like an angel. But I can give you no idea of her by pen and ink; so I beseech you to come and see her, and give your advice to me candidly, for I have the highest opinion of your judgment and good-nature.

"I find you were quite right about that scoundrel who rode with me from Spalding! He has arrested me for a hundred guineas; and is, without exception, the shabbiest dog I ever met with: but I am out of his clutches, and have better friends. I will tell you the whole story when we meet, and pay you your hundred with many thanks. Pray set out as soon as you receive this, for every moment is an age to me: and I won't declare myself, more than I have done, if possible, till you come; for I have a great opinion of your judgment; yet hope you won't put on your severe face, nor be prejudiced against her, because of her being on the stage. Leave such illiberality to cousin Goodenough: it would be quite beneath you! Pray bring with you that volume of old plays that is at the top of my bed, under the bag of thistles; or in the basket of reeds that I was making; or in the out-house, where I keep the goose-quills and feathers. I don't find my memory so clear, since my head is so full of this charming Alicia Barton. Pray make no delay, as you value the peace of mind of your

"Affectionate cousin and friend,

"PIERCE MARVEL.

"P. S. Mr. Barton, her brother, is the most generous of men, and the cleverest. He is not averse to the match. Sir Plantagenet Mowbray's son and heir, who is as insolent as his father, may find that a Lincolnshire farmer is not a person to be despised. I have thoughts of selling my farm of Clover-hill, and of going into another way of life; for which, as Mr. Barton said, and Alicia hinted, nay, as I am inclined to believe too, I am much better suited than for farming. Of this more when we meet. Pray set out as soon as you receive this. Alicia has dark eyes, and yet a fair complexion. I am sure you will like her."

Far from feeling sure that he should like Miss Alicia Barton, Wright was so much alarmed for his cousin, on the perusal of this letter, that he resolved to set out immediately for York, lest the sale of Clover-hill should be concluded before his arrival. A new project and a new love were, indeed, powerful temptations to one of Marvel's character.

As Goodenough was plodding at his accustomed pace in his morning's work, he met Wright on horseback, who asked him if he had any commissions that he could execute in York, whither he was going.

"None, thank Heaven!" said Goodenough. "So I see it is as I always knew it would be! Marvel is 'ticing you into his own ways, and will make you just such another as his self. Ay, you must go to York races! Well, so much the better for me. Much pleasure to you at the races."

"I am not going to the races; I am going to do Marvel a service."

"Charity begins at home: that's my maxim," replied Goodenough.

"It is quite fitting that charity should begin at home," said Wright; "but then it should not end at home; for those that help nobody will find none to help them in time of need."

"Those that help nobody will not be so apt to come to need," replied Goodenough. "But yonder's my men standing idle. If I but turn my head, that's the way of them. Good morrow to you, cousin Wright; I can't stand argufying here about charity, which won't plough my ground, nor bring me a jot nearer to the ten thousand pounds' legacy: so good morrow to you. My service to cousin Marvel."

Goodenough proceeded to his men, who were in truth standing idle, as it was their custom to do when their master's eye was not, as they thought, upon them; for he kept them so hard at work, when he was present, that not a labouring man in the country would hire himself to Goodenough, when he could get employment elsewhere. Goodenough's partizans, however, observed that he got his money's worth out of every man he employed; and that this was the way to grow rich. The question, said they, is not which of the three nephews will be the best beloved, but which will be the richest at the end of ten years; and, on this ground, who can dispute that Goodenough's maxim is the best, "Charity begins at home?" Wright's friends looked rather alarmed when they heard of this journey to York; and Marvel's advocates, though they put a good face upon the matter, heartily wished him safe home.

Upon Wright's arrival in York, he found it no easy matter to discover his cousin Marvel; for he had forgotten to date his letter, and no direction was given to inn or lodging: at last, after inquiring at all the public-houses without success, Wright bethought himself of asking where Miss Alicia Barton, the actress, lodged; for there he would probably meet her lover. Mr. Harrison, an eminent dyer, to whom he applied for information, very civilly offered to show him to the house. Wright had gained this dyer's good opinion by the punctuality with which he had, for three years past, supplied him, at the day and hour appointed, with the quantity of woad for which he had agreed. Punctuality never fails to gain the good opinion of men of business.

As the dyer walked with Wright to Miss Barton's lodgings, they entered into conversation about her; and Wright asked what character she bore. "I know nothing of her character for my own share," said Harrison, "not being in that line of business; but I think I could put you into a way of seeing her in her true colours, whatever they may be; for she is very intimate with a milliner, whom my wife (though not with my good-will entirely) visits. In return for which, I shall be glad that you will do my business along with your own; and let me know if any thing is going wrong."

The dyer introduced Wright to the milliner as a gentleman farmer, who wanted to take home with him a fashionable cap and bonnet, or two, for some ladies in Lincolnshire. The milliner ordered down some dusty bandboxes, which she protested and vowed were just arrived from London with the newest fashions; and, whilst she was displaying these, Wright talked of the races, and the players, and Miss Alicia Barton.

"Is she as handsome as they say? I have a huge cur'osity to see her," said Wright, feigning more rusticity of manner and more simplicity than was natural to him. "I have, truly, a woundy cur'osity to see her, I've heard so much of her, even down in Lincolnshire."

"If you go to see the play, sir, you can't fail to have your curiosity gratified, for Miss Barton plays to-night—(Jenny! reach me a play-bill)—for her own benefit, and appears in her very best character, the Romp."

"The Romp!—Odds! Is that her best character? Why, now, to my notion, bad's the best, if that be the best of her characters. The Romp!—Odds so! What would our grandmothers say to that?"

"Oh, sir, times are changed, as well as fashions, since our grandmothers' days," said the milliner. "Put up this bonnet for the gentleman, Jenny.—I am sure I don't pretend to say any thing in favour of the times, whatever I may of the fashions. But, as to fashion, to be sure no one can be more fashionable, here in York, than Miss Barton. All our gentlemen are dying for her."

"Odds my life, I'll keep out of her way! And yet I've a huge cur'osity to set my eyes upon her. Pray, now, could I any way get to the sight or speech of her in a room, or so? for seeing a woman on the stage is one thing, and seeing her off, as I take it, is another."

"I take it so too, sir. Jenny, put up the cap for the gentleman, and make out a bill."

"No, no; the bonnet's all I want, which I'll pay for on the nail."

Wright took out a long purse full of guineas: then put it up again, and opened a pocket-book full of bank-notes. The milliner's respect for him obviously increased. "Jenny! Do run and see who's within there. Miss Barton was trying on her dress, I think, half an hour ago: may be she'll pass through this way, and the gentleman may have a sight of her, since it weighs so much upon his mind. Let me put up the cap too, sir: it's quite the fashion, you may assure the Lincolnshire ladies.—Oh! here's Miss Barton."

Miss Barton made her appearance, with all her most bewitching smiles and graces. Without seeming to notice Wright, she seated herself in a charming attitude; and, leaning pensively on the counter, addressed her conversation to her friend, the milliner: but, at every convenient pause, she cast an inquiring glance at Wright, who stood with his long purse of guineas in his hand, and his open pocket-book of bank-notes before him, as if he had been so much astonished by the lady's appearance, that he could not recover his recollection. Now, Wright was a remarkably well-shaped handsome man, and Miss Barton was in reality as much struck by his appearance as he feigned to be by hers. No forbidding reserve condemned him to silence; and, as if inspired by the hope of pleasing, he soon grew talkative.

"This is the most rare town, this, your town of York." said he: "I do not well know how I shall ever he able to get myself out of it: so many fine sights, my eyes be quite dazzled!" "And pray, sir, which of all the fine sights do you like the best?" said the milliner.

"Oh! the ladies be the finest of all the fine sights: and I know who I think the finest lady I ever beheld—but will never tell—never."

"Never, sir?" said the milliner, whilst Miss Barton modestly cast down her eyes. "Never's a bold word, sir. I've a notion you'll live to break that rash resolution."

Miss Barton sighed, and involuntarily looked at the glass.

"Why, where's the use," pursued Wright, "of being laughed at? Where's the sense of being scoffed at, as a man might be, that would go for to pay a compliment, not well knowing how, to a lady that is used to have court made to her by the first gentlemen in all York?"

"Those that think they don't know how to pay a compliment often pay the best to my fancy," said the milliner. "What says Miss Barton?"

Miss Barton sighed and blushed, or looked as if she meant to blush; and then, raising her well-practised eyes, exclaimed, with theatrical tones and gestures:

"Ye sacred pow'rs, whose gracious providence Is watchful for our good, guard me from men, From their deceitful tongues, their vows and flatteries; Still let me pass neglected by their eyes: Let my bloom wither and my form decay, That none may think it worth their while to ruin me, And fatal love may never be my bane."

Scarcely had she concluded her speech, when Pierce Marvel came breathless into the shop. Wright was standing so as to be completely hidden by the door: and Marvel, not seeing his friend, addressed himself, as soon as he had breath, to his mistress.—The lady's manner changed, and Wright had an opportunity of seeing and admiring her powers of acting. To Marvel, she was coy and disdainful.

"I expect my friend and relation in town every hour," said he to her in a low voice; "and then I shall be able to settle with your brother about the sale of Clover-hill. You half promised that you would walk with me this morning." "Not without my brother: excuse me, sir," said the coy lady, withdrawing with the dignity of a princess. "When your friend arrives, for whose advice I presume you wait, you will be able to decide your heart. Mine cannot be influenced by base lucre, or mercenary considerations—Unhand me, sir."

"I will run immediately to the inn, to see whether my friend is come," cried Marvel. "Believe me, I am as much above mercenary considerations as yourself; but I have promised not to conclude upon the sale till he comes, and he would take it ill to be sent for, and then to be made a fool of.—I'll run to the Green Man again immediately, to see if he is come."

Marvel darted out of the shop. Wright, during this parley, which lasted but a few seconds, had kept himself snug in his hiding-place, and appeared to the milliner to be wholly absorbed in casting up his bill, in which there was a shilling wrong. He came from behind the door as soon as Marvel departed; and, saying that he would call for his purchases in an hour's time, left the milliner's, took a hackney coach, and drove to the Green Man, where he was now sure of meeting his cousin.

"Thank Heaven! you are come at last," cried Marvel, the moment he saw him. "Thank Heaven! you are come! do not let us lose a moment. If you are not tired, if you are not hungry, come along with me, and I'll introduce you to my charming Alicia Barton."

"I am both tired and hungry," replied Wright: "so let us have a hot beef-steak, and let me sit down and rest myself."

It was the utmost stretch of Marvel's patience to wait for the beef-steak; and he could scarcely conceive how any one could prefer eating it to seeing his charming Alicia. He did not eat a morsel himself, but walked up and down the room with quick steps.

"Oh! my dear Wright," cried he, "it is a sign you've never seen her, or you would eat a little faster."

"Does every body eat fast, who has seen Miss Barton?" said Wright; "then to be sure I should; for I have seen her within this half hour."

"Seen her! Seen Alicia! Seen her within this half hour! That's impossible.—How could you see her? Where could you see her?" "I saw her in your company," rejoined Wright, coolly.

"In my company! How could that be, without my seeing you?—You are making a jest of me."

"Not at all; only take care that you do not make a jest of yourself. I assure you that I say nothing but truth: I've seen you and your Miss Barton this very morning: nay, I'll tell you what you said to her; you told her that you could not sell Clover-hill till I came to town."

Marvel stared, and stood in silent astonishment.

"Ay," continued Wright, "you see by this how many things may pass before a man's eyes and ears, when he is in love, without his seeing or hearing them. Why, man, I was in the milliner's shop just now, standing in the corner behind the door; but you could see nothing but your charming Miss Barton."

"I beg your pardon for being so blind," said Marvel, laughing; "but you are too good-natured to take offence; though you don't know what it is to be in love."

"There you are mistaken; for I am as much in love as yourself at this instant."

"Then I'm undone," cried Marvel, turning as pale as death.

"Why so?" said Wright; "will you allow nobody, man, to be in love but yourself? I don't see why I have not as good a right to fall in love as you have."

"To be sure you have," said Marvel, trying to recover himself; "and I can't say but what you deal fairly by me, to tell me so honestly at once. More fool I to send for you. I might have foreseen this, blockhead as I am! but you deal fairly by me, Wright: so I cannot complain, and will not, happen what may. Let him who can win her, wear her. We start fair; for though I have had the advantage of a first acquaintance, you are much the handsomer man of the two; and that goes for a great deal with some ladies, though not perhaps with Alicia Barton."

"There, perhaps, you may find yourself mistaken," replied Wright, with a significant look.

"You don't say so? You don't think so?" cried Marvel, with great emotion. "I say what I think; and, if I may trust a woman's looks, I've some reason for my thoughts."

Marvel took up the tankard which stood on the table, and swallowed down a hasty draught; and then said, though with an altered voice, "Cousin Wright, let him who can win her, wear her, as I said before. I sha'n't quarrel with you if you deal fairly by me; so tell me honestly, did you never see her before this morning?"

"Never, as I am an honest man," said Wright.

"Then, here's my hand for you," said Marvel. "All's fair and handsome on your part. Happen what may, as I said before, I will not quarrel with you. If she was decreed to fall in love with you at first sight, why that's no fault of yours; and if she tells me so fairly, why no great fault of hers. She has encouraged me a little; but still women will change their minds, and I shall not call her a jilt if she speaks handsomely to me. It will go a little to my heart at first, no doubt; but I shall bear it like a man, I hope; and I shall not quarrel with you, cousin Wright, whatever else I do."

Marvel shook Wright's hand heartily; but turned away directly afterwards, to hide his agitation.

"Why now, cousin Marvel, you are a good fellow; that's the truth of it," said Wright. "Trust to me: and, if the girl is what you think her, you shall have her: that I promise you."

"That's more than you can promise, being as you say as much in love as I am."

"I say I'm more in love than you are: but what then, I ask you?"

"What then! why, we cannot both have Alicia Barton."

"Very true. I would not have her if you would give her to me."

"Would not have her!" cried Marvel, with a look of joyous astonishment: "but, did not you tell me you were in love with her?"

"Not I. You told it to yourself. I said I was in love; but cannot a man be in love with any woman in this whole world but Miss Barton?"

Marvel capered about the room with the most lively expressions of delight, shook hands with his cousin, as if he would have pulled his arm off, and then suddenly stopping, said, "But what do you think of my Alicia? Though you are not in love with her, I hope you think well of her?"

"I must see more of her before I am qualified to speak."

"Nay, nay, no drawbacks: out with it. I must know what you think of her at this time being."

"At this time being, then, I think, she is what they call a—coquette."

"Oh, there you are out, indeed, cousin Wright! she's more of what they call a prude than a coquette."

"To you, perhaps; but not to me, cousin. Let every one speak of her as they find," replied Wright.

Marvel grew warm in defence of Miss Barton's prudery; and at last ended by saying, "that he'd stake his life upon it, she was no jilt. If she had taken a fancy to you, Wright, she would honestly tell me so, I'm convinced; and, when she finds you are thinking of another woman, her pride would soon make her think no more of you. 'Tis but little she could have thought in the few minutes you were in her company; and it is my opinion she never thought of you at all—no offence."

"No offence, I promise you," said Wright; "but let us put her to the trial: do you keep your own counsel; go on courting her your own way, and let me go mine. Don't you say one word of my being here in York; but put her off about the sale of Clover-hill, till such time as you are sure of her heart."

To this proposal Marvel joyfully agreed; and, as to the time of trial, Wright asked only one week. His cousin then told him the new scheme, from which he expected to make so much: it had been suggested by Alicia's brother. "I am to sell Clover-hill; and, with the money that I get for it, Barton and I are to build and fit up a theatre in Lincoln, and be the managers ourselves. I assure you, he says, and they all say, I should make a figure on the stage: and Miss Barton whispered, in my hearing, that I should make a capital Lothario," added Marvel, throwing himself into a stage attitude, and reciting, in a voice that made Wright start,"'Earth, Heav'n, and fair Calista, judge the combat.'" "Very fine, no doubt," said Wright; "but I am no judge of these matters; only this I am sure of, that, with respect to selling Clover-hill, you had best go slowly to work, and see what the sister is, before you trust to the brother. It is not for my interest, I very well know, to advise you against this scheme; because, if I wanted to make certain of your not coming in for my uncle's legacy, I could not take a better way than to urge you to follow your fancy. For, say that you lay out all you have in the world on the building of this playhouse, and say that Barton's as honest a man as yourself: observe, your playhouse cannot be built in less than a couple of years, and the interest of your money must be dead all that time; and pray how are you to bring yourself up, by the end of the ten years? Consider, there are but seven years of the time to come."

Marvel gave his cousin hearty thanks for his disinterested advice, but observed that actors and managers of playhouses were, of all men, they who were most likely to grow rich in a trice; that they often cleared many hundreds in one night for their benefits; that even, if he should fail to hit the public taste himself, as an actor, he was sure at least, if he married the charming Alicia, that she would be a source of inexhaustible wealth. "Not," added he, "that I think of her in that light; for my soul is as much superior to mercenary considerations as her own."

"More, perhaps," said Wright; but seeing fire flash in his cousin's eyes at this insinuation, he contented himself for the present with the promise he had obtained, that nothing should be concluded till the end of one week; that no mention should be made to Miss Barton, or her brother, of his arrival in town; and that he should have free liberty to make trial of the lady's truth and constancy, in any way he should think proper. Back to his friend the milliner's he posted directly. Miss Barton was gone out upon the race-ground in Captain Mowbray's curricle: in her absence, Wright was received very graciously by the milliner, who had lodgings to let, and who readily agreed to let them to him for a week, as he offered half a guinea more than she could get from anybody else. She fancied that he was deeply smitten with Miss Barton's charms, and encouraged his passion, by pretty broad hints that it was reciprocal. Miss Barton drank tea this evening with the milliner: Wright was of the party, and he was made to understand that others had been excluded: "for Miss Barton," her friend observed, "was very nice as to her company."

Many dexterous efforts were made to induce Wright to lay open his heart; for the dyer's lady had been cross-questioned as to his property in Lincolnshire, and she being a lover of the marvellous, had indulged herself in a little exaggeration; so that he was considered as a prize, and Miss Barton's imagination settled the matter so rapidly, that she had actually agreed to make the milliner a handsome present on the wedding-day. Upon this hint, the milliner became anxious to push forward the affair. Marvel, she observed, hung back about the sale of his estate; and, as to Sir Plantagenet Mowbray's son, he was bound hand and foot by his father, so could do nothing genteel: besides, honourable matrimony was out of the question there.

All these things considered, the milliner's decision was, on perfectly prudential and virtuous motives, in favour of Wright. Miss Barton's heart, to use her own misapplied term, spoke warmly in his favour; for he was, without any comparison, the handsomest of her lovers; and his simplicity and apparent ignorance of the world were rather recommendations than objections.

Upon her second interview with him, she had, however, some reason to suspect that his simplicity was not so great as she had imagined. She was surprised to observe, that, notwithstanding all their artful hints, Wright came to nothing like a positive proposal, nor even to any declaration of his passion. The next day she was yet more astonished; for Wright, though he knew she was a full hour in the milliner's shop, never made the slightest attempt to see her; nay, in the evening, he met her on the public walk, and passed without more notice than a formal bow, and without turning his head back to look after her, though she was flirting with a party of gentlemen, expressly for the purpose of exciting his jealousy.

Another consultation was held with her friend the milliner: "These men are terrible creatures to deal with," said her confidant. "Do you know, my dear creature, this man, simple as he looks, has been very near taking us in. Would you believe it? he is absolutely courting a Lincolnshire lady for a wife. He wrote a letter to her, my dear Alicia, this morning, and begged me to let my boy run with it to the post-office. I winded and winded, saying he was mighty anxious about the letter, and so on, till, at the last, out comes the truth. Then I touched him about you; but he said, 'an actress was not fit for a farmer's wife, and that you had too many admirers already.' You see, my dear creature, that he has none of the thoughts we built upon. Depend upon it he is a shrewd man, and knows what he is about; so, as we cannot do better than Marvel, my advice—"

"Your advice!" interrupted Miss Barton: "I shall follow no advice but my own." She walked up and down the small parlour in great agitation.

"Do as you please, my dear; but remember I cannot afford to lay out of my money to all eternity. The account between us has run up to a great sum; the dresses were such as never were made up before in York, and must be paid for accordingly, as you must be sensible, Miss Barton. And when you have an opportunity of establishing yourself so handsomely, and getting all your debts paid; and when your brother, who was here an hour ago, presses the match with Mr. Marvel so much; it is very strange and unaccountable of you to say, 'you will take nobody's advice but your own;' and to fall in love, ma'am, as you are doing, as fast as you can, with a person who has no serious intentions, and is going to be married to another woman. For shame, Miss Barton; is this behaving with proper propriety? Besides, I've really great regard for that poor young man that you have been making a fool of; I'm sure he is desperately in love with you."

"Then let him show it, and sell Clover-hill," said Miss Barton.

Her mind balanced between avarice and what she called love. She had taken a fancy to Wright, and his present coldness rather increased than diminished her passion: he played his part so well, that she could not tell how to decide. In the mean time, the milliner pressed for her money; and Alicia's brother bullied loudly in favour of Marvel: he had engaged the milliner, whom he was courting, to support his opinion. Marvel, though with much difficulty, stood his ground, and refused to sell Clover-hill, till he should be perfectly sure that Miss Barton would marry him, and till his relation should arrive in town, and give his consent.



CHAPTER III.

Mr. Barton and the milliner now agreed, that if fair means would not bring the charming Alicia to reason, others must be used; and it was settled that she should be arrested for her debt to the milliner, which was upwards of fifty pounds. "She knows," said this considerate brother, "that I have neither the power nor the will to pay the money. Sir Plantagenet's son is as poor as Job; so she must have recourse to Marvel; and, if she gives him proper encouragement, he'll pay the money in a trice. As to this man, who lodges with you, let her apply to him if she likes it; she will soon see how he will answer her. By your account he is a shrewd fellow, and not like our friend Marvel."

On Friday morning the charming Alicia was arrested, at the suit of her dear friend and confidant, the milliner. The arrest was made in the milliner's shop. Alicia would doubtless have screamed and fainted, with every becoming spirit and grace, if any spectators had been present: but there was no one in the shop to admire or pity. She rushed with dishevelled hair, and all the stage show of distraction, into Wright's apartment; but, alas! he was not to be found. She then composed herself, and wrote the following note to Marvel:

"TO —— MARVEL, ESQ. &C.

"At the Green Man.

"Much as it hurts the delicacy and wounds the pride of Alicia, she is compelled, by the perfidy of a bosom friend of her own sex, to apply for assistance and protection to one who will feel for the indignity that has been shown her. How will his generous nature shudder, when he hears that she is on the point of being dragged to a loathsome dungeon, for want of the paltry sum of fifty pounds! Retrospection may convince the man of her heart, that her soul is superior to mercenary considerations; else, she would not now be reduced so low in the power of her enemies: she scarcely knows what she writes—her heart bleeds—her brain is on fire!

"'Celestial sounds! Peace dawns upon my soul, And every pain grows less. Oh! gentle Altamont, Think not too hardly of me when I'm gone, But pity me. Had I but early known Thy wond'rous worth, thou excellent young man, We had been happier both. Now 'tis too late. And yet my eyes take pleasure to behold thee! Thou art their last dear object.—Mercy, Heav'n!'

"Your affectionate, "And (shall I confess it?) "Too affectionate, "ALICIA."

Marvel was settling some accounts with Wright when this note was put into his hands: scarcely had he glanced his eye over it, when he started up, seized a parcel of bank notes, which lay on the table, and was rushing out of the room. Wright caught hold of his arm, and stopped him by force.

"Where now? What now, Marvel?" said he.

"Do not stop me, Wright! I will not be stopped! She has been barbarously used. They are dragging her to prison.—They have driven her almost out of her senses. I must go to her this instant."

"Well, well, don't go without your hat, man, for the people in the street will take you for a lunatic. May a friend see this letter that has driven you out of your senses?"

Marvel put it into Wright's hands, who read it with wonderful composure; and when he came to the end of it, only said—"Hum!"

"Hum," repeated Marvel, provoked beyond measure; "you have no humanity. You are most strangely prejudiced. You are worse than Goodenough. Why do you follow me?" continued he, observing that Wright was coming after him across the inn-yard into the street.

"I follow you to take care of you," said Wright, calmly; "and though you do stride on at such a rate, I'll be bound to keep up with you."

He suffered Marvel to walk on at his own pace for the length of two streets, without saying another word; but just as they were turning the corner into the square where the milliner lived, he again caught hold of his cousin's arm, and said to him: "Hark you, Marvel; will you trust me with those bank notes that you have in your pocket? and will you let me step on to the milliner's, and settle this business for you? I see it will cost you fifty pounds, but that I cannot help. You may think yourself well off."

"Fifty pounds! What are fifty pounds?" cried Marvel, hurrying forwards. "You see that my Alicia must be superior to mercenary considerations; for, though she knows I have a good fortune, that could not decide her in my favour."

"No, because she fancies that 1 have a better fortune; and, besides (for there are times when a man must speak plainly), I've a notion she would at this minute sooner be my mistress than your wife, if the thing were fairly tried. She'll take your money as fast as you please; and I may take her as fast as I please."

Incensed at these words, Marvel could scarcely restrain his passion within bounds: but Wright, without being, moved, continued to speak.

"Nay, then, cousin, if you don't believe me, put it to the test!—I'll wait here, at this woollen-draper's, where I am to dine: do you go on to your milliner's, and say what you please, only let me have my turn for half an hour this evening; and, if I am mistaken in the lady, I'll freely own it, and make all due apology."

In the afternoon, Marvel came to Wright with a face full of joy and triumph. "Go to my Alicia now, cousin Wright," said he: "I defy you. She is at her lodging.—She has promised to marry me! I am the happiest man in the world!"

Wright said not a word, but departed. Now he had in his pocket an unanswered billet-doux, which had been laid upon his table the preceding night: the billet-doux had no name to it; but, from all he had remarked of the lady's manners towards him, he could not doubt that it was the charming Alicia's. He was determined to have positive proof, however, to satisfy Marvel's mind completely. The note which he had received was as follows:

"What can be the cause of your cruel and sudden change towards one of whom you lately appeared to think so partially? A certain female friend may deceive you, by false representations: do not trust to her, but learn the real sentiments of a fond heart from one who knows not how to feign. Spare the delicacy of your victim, and guess her name."

To this note, from one "who knew not how to feign," Wright sent the following reply:

"If Miss Barton knows any thing of a letter that was left at Mrs. Stokes's, the milliner's, last night, she may receive an answer to her questions from the bearer; who, being no scholar, hopes she will not take no offence at the shortness of these lines, but satisfy him in the honour of drinking tea with her, who waits below stairs for an answer."

The charming Alicia allowed him the honour of drinking tea with her, and was delighted with the thought that she had at last caught him in her snares. The moment she had hopes of him, she resolved to break her promise to Marvel; and by making a merit of sacrificing to Wright all his rivals, she had no doubt that she should work so successfully upon his vanity, as to induce him to break off his treaty with the Lincolnshire lady.

Wright quickly let her go on with the notion that she had the game in her own hands; at length he assumed a very serious look, like one upon the point of forming some grand resolution; and turning half away from her, said:

"But now, look ye, Miss Barton, I am not a sort of man who would like to be made a fool of. Here I'm told half the gentlemen of York are dying for you; and, as your friend Mrs. Stokes informed—"

"Mrs. Stokes is not my friend, but the basest and most barbarous of enemies," cried Alicia.

"Why, now, this is strange! She was your friend yesterday; and how do I know but a woman may change as quick, and as short, about her lovers, as about her friends?"

"I never can change: fear nothing," said Alicia, tenderly.

"But let me finish what I was saying about Mrs. Stokes; she told me something about one Mr. Marvel, I think they call him; now what is all that?"

"Nothing: he is a foolish young man, who was desperately in love with me, that's all, and offered to marry me; but, as I told him, I am superior to mercenary considerations."

"And is the affair broke off, then?" said Wright, looking her full in the face. "That's in one word what I must be sure of: for I am not a man that would choose to be jilted. Sit you down and pen me a farewell to that same foolish young fellow. I am a plain-spoken man, and now you have my mind."

Miss Barton was now persuaded that all Wright's coldness had proceeded from jealousy: blinded by her passions, and alarmed by the idea that this was the moment in which she must either secure or for ever abandon Wright and his fortune, she consented to his proposal, and wrote the following tender adieu to Marvel:

"TO——MARVEL, ESQ. &C. At the Green Man.

"SIR,

"CIRCUMSTANCES have occurred, since I had last the honour of seeing you, which make it impossible that I should ever think of you more.

"ALICIA BARTON."

Wright said he was perfectly satisfied with this note; and all that he now desired was to be himself the bearer of it to Marvel.

"He is a hot-headed young man," said Alicia; "he will perhaps quarrel with you: let me send the letter by a messenger of my own. You don't know him; you will not be able to find him out. Besides, why will you deprive me of your company? Cannot another carry this note as well as you?"

"None shall carry it but myself," said Wright, holding fast his prize. She was apprehensive of losing him for ever, if she opposed what she thought his jealous humour; so she struggled no longer to hold him, but bade him make haste to return to his Alicia.

He returned no more; but the next morning she received from him the following note:

"TO MISS ALICIA BARTON, &C.

"MADAM,

"Circumstances have occurred, since I had last the honour of seeing you, which make it impossible that I should ever think of you more.

"JOHN WRIGHT.

"P.S. My cousin, Marvel, thanks you for your note. Before you receive this, he will have left York wiser than he came into it by fifty guineas and more."

"Wiser by more than fifty guineas, I hope," said Marvel, as he rode out of town, early in the morning.

"I have been on the point of being finely taken in! I'm sure this will be a lesson to me as long as I live. I shall never forget your good-nature, and steadiness to me, Wright. Now, if it had not been for you, I might have been married to this jade; and have given her and her brother every thing I'm worth in the world. Well, well, this is a lesson I shall remember. I've felt it sharply enough. Now I'll turn my head to my business again, if I can. How Goodenough would laugh at me if he knew this story. But I'll make up for all the foolish things I have done yet before I die; and I hope, before I die, I may be able to show you, cousin Wright, how much I am obliged to you: that would be greater joy to me even than getting by my own ingenuity my uncle Pearson's ten thousand pound legacy. Do, Wright, find out something I can do for you, to make amends for all the trouble I've given you, and all the time I have made you waste: do, there's a good fellow."

"Well, then," said Wright, "I don't want to saddle you with an obligation. You shall pay me in kind directly, since you are so desirous of it. I told you I was in love: you shall come with me and see my mistress, to give me your opinion of her. Every man can be prudent for his neighbour: even you no doubt can," added Wright, laughing. Wright's mistress was a Miss Banks, only daughter to a gentleman who had set up an apparatus for manufacturing woad. Mr. Banks's house was in their way home, and they called there. They knocked several times at the door, before any one answered: at last a boy came to hold their horses, who told them that Mr. Banks was dead, and that nobody could be let into the house. The boy knew nothing of the matter, except that his master died, he believed, of a sort of a fit; and that his young mistress was in great grief: "which I'm mortal sorry for," added he: "for she he's kind hearted and civil spoken, and moreover did give me the very shoes I have on my feet."