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  CHAPTER IV

  "It is the form, the eye, the word, The bearing of that stranger lord, His stature, manly, bold, and tall, Built like a castle's battled wall, Yet molded in such just degrees His giant strength seems lightsome ease. Weather and war their rougher trace Have left on that majestic face; But 'tis his dignity of eye! There, if a suppliant, would I fly, Secure, 'mid danger, wrongs, and grief, Of sympathy, redress, relief-- That glance, if guilty, would I dread More than the doom that spoke me dead." "Enough, enough!" the princess cried, "'Tis Scotland's hope, her joy, her pride!" --WALTER SCOTT.

  The party sat in silence for many minutes after the peddler hadwithdrawn. Mr. Wharton had heard enough to increase his uneasiness,without in the least removing his apprehensions on behalf of his son.The captain was impatiently wishing Harper in any other place than theone foe occupied with such apparent composure, while Miss Peytoncompleted the disposal of her breakfast equipage, with the mildcomplacency of her nature, aided a little by an inward satisfaction atpossessing so large a portion of the trader's lace; Sarah was busilyoccupied in arranging her purchases, and Frances was kindly assisting inthe occupation, disregarding her own neglected bargains, when thestranger suddenly broke the silence by saying,--

  "If any apprehensions of me induce Captain Wharton to maintain hisdisguise, I wish him to be undeceived; had I motives for betraying him,they could not operate under present circumstances."

  The younger sister sank into her seat colorless and astonished. MissPeyton dropped the tea tray she was lifting from the table, and Sarahsat with her purchases unheeded in her lap, in speechless surprise. Mr.Wharton was stupefied; but the captain, hesitating a moment fromastonishment, sprang into the middle of the room, and exclaimed, as hetore off the instruments of his disguise,--

  "I believe you from my soul, and this tiresome imposition shall continueno longer. Yet I am at a loss to conceive in what manner you shouldknow me."

  "You really look so much better in your proper person, Captain Wharton,"said Harper, with a slight smile, "I would advise you never to concealit in future. There is enough to betray you, if other sources ofdetection were wanting." As he spoke, he pointed to a picture suspendedover the mantel piece, which exhibited the British officer in hisregimentals.

  "I had flattered myself," cried young Wharton, with a laugh, "that Ilooked better on the canvas than in a masquerade. You must be a closeobserver, sir."

  "Necessity has made me one," said Harper, rising from his seat.

  Frances met him as he was about to withdraw, and, taking his handbetween both her own, said with earnestness, her cheeks mantling withtheir richest vermilion, "You cannot--you will not betray my brother."

  For an instant Harper paused in silent admiration of the lovely pleader,and then, folding her hands on his breast, he replied solemnly, "Icannot, and I will not." He released her hands, and laying his own onher head gently, continued, "If the blessing of a stranger can profityou, receive it." He turned, and, bowing low, retired, with a delicacythat was duly appreciated by those he quitted, to his own apartment.

  The whole party were deeply impressed with the ingenuous and solemnmanner of the traveler, and all but the father found immediate relief inhis declaration. Some of the cast-off clothes of the captain, which hadbeen removed with the goods from the city, were produced; and youngWharton, released from the uneasiness of his disguise, began at last toenjoy a visit which had been undertaken at so much personal risk tohimself. Mr. Wharton retiring to his apartment, in pursuance of hisregular engagements, the ladies, with the young man, were left to anuninterrupted communication on such subjects as were most agreeable.Even Miss Peyton was affected with the spirits of her young relatives;and they sat for an hour enjoying, in heedless confidence, the pleasuresof an unrestrained conversation, without reflecting on any danger whichmight be impending over them. The city and their acquaintances were notlong neglected; for Miss Peyton, who had never forgotten the manyagreeable hours of her residence within its boundaries, soon inquired,among others, after their old acquaintance, Colonel Wellmere.

  "Oh!" cried the captain, gayly, "he yet continues there, as handsome andas gallant as ever."

  Although a woman be not actually in love, she seldom hears without ablush the name of a man whom she might love, and who has been connectedwith herself by idle gossips, in the amatory rumor of the day. Such hadbeen the case with Sarah, and she dropped her eyes on the carpet with asmile, that, aided by the blush which suffused her cheek, in no degreedetracted from her native charms.

  Captain Wharton, without heeding this display of interest in his sister,immediately continued, "At times he is melancholy--we tell him it mustbe love." Sarah raised her eyes to the face of her brother, and wasconsciously turning them on the rest of the party, when she met those ofher sister laughing with good humor and high spirits, as she cried,"Poor man! does he despair?"

  "Why, no--one would think he could not; the eldest son of a man ofwealth, so handsome, and a colonel."

  "Strong reasons, indeed, why he should prevail," said Sarah, endeavoringto laugh; "more particularly the latter."

  "Let me tell you," replied the captain, gravely, "a lieutenantcolonelcy in the Guards is a very pretty thing."

  "And Colonel Wellmere a very pretty man," added Frances.

  "Nay, Frances," returned her sister, "Colonel Wellmere was never afavorite of yours; he is too loyal to his king to be agreeable toyour taste."

  Frances quickly answered, "And is not Henry loyal to his king?"

  "Come, come," said Miss Peyton, "no difference of opinion about thecolonel--he is a favorite of mine."

  "Fanny likes majors better," cried the brother, pulling her upon hisknee.

  "Nonsense!" said the blushing girl, as she endeavored to extricateherself from the grasp of her laughing brother.

  "It surprises me," continued the captain, "that Peyton, when he procuredthe release of my father, did not endeavor to detain my sister in therebel camp."

  "That might have endangered his own liberty," said the smiling girl,resuming her seat. "You know it is liberty for which Major Dunwoodie isfighting."

  "Liberty!" exclaimed Sarah; "very pretty liberty which exchanges onemaster for fifty."

  "The privilege of changing masters at all is a liberty."

  "And one you ladies would sometimes be glad to exercise," cried thecaptain.

  "We like, I believe, to have the liberty of choosing who they shall bein the first place," said the laughing girl. "Don't we, Aunt Jeanette?"

  "Me!" cried Miss Peyton, starting; "what do I know of such things,child? You must ask someone else, if you wish to learn such matters."

  "Ah! you would have us think you were never young! But what am I tobelieve of all the tales I have heard about the handsome MissJeanette Peyton?"

  "Nonsense, my dear, nonsense," said the aunt, endeavoring to suppress asmile; "it is very silly to believe all you hear."

  "Nonsense, do you call it?" cried the captain, gayly. "To this hourGeneral Montrose toasts Miss Peyton; I heard him within the week, at SirHenry's table."

  "Why, Henry, you are as saucy as your sister; and to break in upon yourfolly, I must take you to see my new home-made manufactures, which Iwill be bold enough to put in contrast with the finery of Birch."

  The young people rose to follow their aunt, in perfect good humor witheach other and the world. On ascending the stairs to the place ofdeposit for Miss Peyton's articles of domestic economy, she availedherself, however, of an opportunity to inquire of her nephew, whetherGeneral Montrose suffered as much from the gout as he had done whenshe knew him.

  It is a painful discovery we make, as we advance in life, that eventhose we most love are not exempt from its frailties. When the heart isfresh, and the view of the future unsullied by the blemishes which havebeen gathered from the experience of the past, our feelings are mostholy: we love to identify with the persons of our natural friend
s allthose qualities to which we ourselves aspire, and all those virtues wehave been taught to revere. The confidence with which we esteem seems apart of our nature; and there is a purity thrown around the affectionswhich tie us to our kindred that after life can seldom hope to seeuninjured. The family of Mr. Wharton continued to enjoy, for theremainder of the day, a happiness to which they had long been strangers;and one that sprang, in its younger members, from the delights of themost confident affection, and the exchange of the most disinterestedendearments.

  Harper appeared only at the dinner table, and he retired with the cloth,under the pretense of some engagement in his own room. Notwithstandingthe confidence created by his manner, the family felt his absence arelief; for the visit of Captain Wharton was necessarily to be confinedto a very few days, both from the limitation of his leave of absence,and the danger of a discovery.

  All dread of consequences, however, was lost in the pleasure of themeeting. Once or twice during the day, Mr. Wharton had suggested a doubtas to the character of his unknown guest, and the possibility of thedetection of his son proceeding in some manner from his information; butthe idea was earnestly opposed by all his children; even Sarah unitingwith her brother and sister in pleading warmly in favor of the sincerityexpressed in the outward appearance of the traveler.

  "Such appearances, my children," replied the desponding parent, "are buttoo often deceitful; when men like Major Andre lend themselves to thepurposes of fraud, it is idle to reason from qualities, much lessexternals."

  "Fraud!" cried his son quickly. "Surely, sir, you forget that MajorAndre was serving his king, and that the usages of war justifiedthe measure."

  "And did not the usages of war justify his death, Henry?" inquiredFrances, speaking in a low voice, unwilling to abandon what she thoughtthe cause of her country, and yet unable to suppress her feelingsfor the man.

  "Never!" exclaimed the young man, springing from his seat, and pacingthe floor rapidly. "Frances, you shock me; suppose it should be my fate,even now, to fall into the power of the rebels; you would vindicate myexecution--perhaps exult in the cruelty of Washington."

  "Henry!" said Frances, solemnly, quivering with emotion, and with a facepale as death, "you little know my heart."

  "Pardon me, my sister--my little Fanny," cried the repentant youth,pressing her to his bosom, and kissing off the tears which had burst,spite of her resolution, from her eyes.

  "It is very foolish to regard your hasty words, I know," said Frances,extricating herself from his arms, and raising her yet humid eyes tohis face with a smile; "but reproach from those we love is most severe,Henry; particularly--where we--we think--we know"--her palenessgradually gave place to the color of the rose, as she concluded in a lowvoice, with her eyes directed to the carpet, "we are undeserving of it."

  Miss Peyton moved from her own seat to the one next her niece, and,kindly taking her hand, observed, "You should not suffer the impetuosityof your brother to affect you so much; boys, you know, are proverbiallyungovernable."

  "And, from my conduct, you might add cruel," said the captain, seatinghimself on the other side of his sister. "But on the subject of thedeath of Andre we are all of us uncommonly sensitive. You did not knowhim: he was all that was brave--that was accomplished--that wasestimable." Frances smiled faintly, and shook her head, but made noreply. Her brother, observing the marks of incredulity in hercountenance, continued, "You doubt it, and justify his death?"

  "I do not doubt his worth," replied the maid, mildly, "nor his beingdeserving of a more happy fate; but I cannot doubt the propriety ofWashington's conduct. I know but little of the customs of war, and wishto know less; but with what hopes of success could the Americanscontend, if they yielded all the principles which long usage hadestablished, to the exclusive purposes of the British?"

  "Why contend at all?" cried Sarah, impatiently. "Besides, being rebels,all their acts are illegal."

  "Women are but mirrors, which reflect the images before them," cried thecaptain, good-naturedly. "In Frances I see the picture of MajorDunwoodie, and in Sarah--"

  "Colonel Wellmere," interrupted the younger sister, laughing, andblushing crimson. "I must confess I am indebted to the major for myreasoning--am I not, Aunt Jeanette?"

  "I believe it is something like his logic, indeed, child."

  "I plead guilty; and you. Sarah, have not forgotten the learneddiscussions of Colonel Wellmere."

  "I trust I never forget the right," said Sarah, emulating her sister incolor, and rising, under the pretense of avoiding the heat of the fire.

  Nothing occurred of any moment during the rest of the day; but in theevening Caesar reported that he had overheard voices in the room ofHarper, conversing in a low tone. The apartment occupied by the travelerwas the wing at the extremity of the building, opposite to the parlor inwhich the family ordinarily assembled; and it seems that Caesar hadestablished a regular system of espionage, with a view to the safety ofhis young master. This intelligence gave some uneasiness to all themembers of the family; but the entrance of Harper himself, with the airof benevolence and sincerity which shone through his reserve, soonremoved the doubts from the breast of all but Mr. Wharton. His childrenand sister believed Caesar to have been mistaken, and the evening passedoff without any additional alarm.

  On the afternoon of the succeeding day, the party were assembled in theparlor around the tea table of Miss Peyton, when a change in the weatheroccurred. The thin _scud_, that apparently floated but a short distanceabove the tops of the hills, began to drive from the west towards theeast in astonishing rapidity. The rain yet continued to beat against theeastern windows of the house with fury; in that direction the heavenswere dark and gloomy. Frances was gazing at the scene with the desire ofyouth to escape from the tedium of confinement, when, as if by magic,all was still. The rushing winds had ceased, the pelting of the stormwas over, and, springing to the window, with delight pictured in herface, she saw a glorious ray of sunshine lighting the opposite wood. Thefoliage glittered with the checkered beauties of the October leaf,reflecting back from the moistened boughs the richest luster of anAmerican autumn. In an instant, the piazza, which opened to the south,was thronged with the inmates of the cottage. The air was mild, balmy,and refreshing; in the east, clouds, which might be likened to theretreating masses of a discomfited army, hung around the horizon inawful and increasing darkness. At a little elevation above the cottage,the thin vapor was still rushing towards the east with amazing velocity;while in the west the sun had broken forth and shed his parting radianceon the scene below, aided by the fullest richness of a clear atmosphereand a freshened herbage. Such moments belong only to the climate ofAmerica, and are enjoyed in a degree proportioned to the suddenness ofthe contrast, and the pleasure we experience in escaping from theturbulence of the elements to the quiet of a peaceful evening, and anair still as the softest mornings in June.

  "What a magnificent scene!" said Harper, in a low tone. "How grand! howawfully sublime!--may such a quiet speedily await the struggle in whichmy country is engaged, and such a glorious evening follow the day of heradversity!"

  Frances, who stood next to him, alone heard the voice. Turning inamazement from the view to the speaker, she saw him standing bareheaded,erect, and with his eyes lifted to heaven. There was no longer the quietwhich had seemed their characteristic, but they were lighted intosomething like enthusiasm, and a slight flush passed over his features.

  There can be no danger apprehended from such a man, thought Frances;such feelings belong only to the virtuous.

  The musings of the party were now interrupted by the sudden appearanceof the peddler. He had taken advantage of the first gleam of sunshine tohasten to the cottage. Heedless of wet or dry as it lay in his path,with arms swinging to and fro, and with his head bent forward of hisbody several inches, Harvey Birch approached the piazza, with a gaitpeculiarly his own. It was the quick, lengthened pace of an itinerantvender of goods.

  "Fine evening," said the peddler, saluting the part
y, without raisinghis eyes; "quite warm and agreeable for the season."

  Mr. Wharton assented to the remark, and inquired kindly after the healthof his father. Harvey heard him, and continued standing for some time inmoody silence; but the question being repeated, he answered with aslight tremor in his voice,--

  "He fails fast; old age and hardships will do their work." The peddlerturned his face from the view of most of the family; but Frances noticedhis glistening eyes and quivering lip, and, for the second time, Harveyrose in her estimation.

  The valley in which the residence of Mr. Wharton stood ran in adirection from northwest to southeast, and the house was placed on theside of a hill which terminated its length in the former direction. Asmall opening, occasioned by the receding of the opposite hill, and thefall of the land to the level of the tide water, afforded a view of theSound [Footnote: An island more than forty leagues in length liesopposite the coasts of New York and Connecticut. The arm of the seawhich separates it from the main is technically called a sound, and inthat part of the country _par excellence, the_ Sound. This sheet ofwater varies in its breadth from five to thirty miles.] over the tops ofthe distant woods on its margin. The surface of the water which had solately been lashing the shores with boisterous fury, was already losingits ruffled darkness in the long and regular undulations that succeededa tempest, while the light air from the southwest was gently touchingtheir summits, lending its feeble aid in stilling the waters. Some darkspots were now to be distinguished, occasionally rising into view, andagain sinking behind the lengthened waves which interposed themselves tothe sight. They were unnoticed by all but the peddler. He had seatedhimself on the piazza, at a distance from Harper, and appeared to haveforgotten the object of his visit. His roving eye, however, soon caughta glimpse of these new objects in the view, and he sprang up withalacrity, gazing intently towards the water. He changed his place,glanced his eye with marked uneasiness on Harper, and then said withgreat emphasis--

  "The rig'lars must be out from below."

  "Why do you think so?" inquired Captain Wharton, eagerly. "God send itmay be true; I want their escort in again."

  "Them ten whaleboats would not move so fast unless they were bettermanned than common."

  "Perhaps," cried Mr. Wharton in alarm, "they are--they are continentalsreturning from the island."

  "They look like rig'lars," said the peddler, with meaning.

  "Look!" repeated the captain, "there is nothing but spots to be seen."

  Harvey disregarded his observation, but seemed to be soliloquizing, ashe said in an undertone, "They came out before the gale--have laid onthe island these two days--horse are on the road--there will soon befighting near us." During this speech, Birch several times glanced hiseye towards Harper, with evident uneasiness, but no correspondingemotion betrayed any interest of that gentleman in the scene. He stoodin silent contemplation of the view, and seemed enjoying the change inthe air. As Birch concluded, however, Harper turned to his host, andmentioned that his business would not admit of unnecessary delay; hewould, therefore, avail himself of the fine evening to ride a few mileson his journey. Mr. Wharton made many professions of regret at losing soagreeable an inmate; but was too mindful of his duty not to speed theparting guest, and orders were instantly given to that effect.

  The uneasiness of the peddler increased in a manner for which nothingapparent could account; his eye was constantly wandering towards thelower end of the vale as if in expectation of some interruption fromthat quarter. At length Caesar appeared, leading the noble beast whichwas to bear the weight of the traveler. The peddler officiouslyassisted to tighten the girths, and fasten the blue cloak and valise tothe mailstraps.

  Every precaution being completed, Harper proceeded to take his leave. ToSarah and her aunt he paid his compliments with ease and kindness; butwhen he came to Frances, he paused a moment, while his face assumed anexpression of more than ordinary benignity. His eye repeated theblessing which had before fallen from his lips, and the girl felt hercheeks glow, and her heart beat with a quicker pulsation, as he spokehis adieus. There was a mutual exchange of polite courtesy between thehost and his parting guest; but as Harper frankly offered his hand toCaptain Wharton, he remarked, in a manner of great solemnity,--

  "The step you have undertaken is one of much danger, and disagreeableconsequences to yourself may result from it; in such a case, I may haveit in my power to prove the gratitude I owe your family for itskindness."

  "Surely, sir," cried the father, losing sight of delicacy inapprehension for his child, "you will keep secret the discovery whichyour being in my house has enabled you to make?"

  Harper turned quickly to the speaker, and then, losing the sternnesswhich had begun to gather on his countenance, he answered mildly, "Ihave learned nothing in your family, sir, of which I was ignorantbefore; but your son is safer from my knowledge of his visit than hewould be without it."

  He bowed to the whole party, and without taking any notice of thepeddler, other than by simply thanking him for his attentions, mountedhis horse, and, riding steadily and gracefully through the little gate,was soon lost behind the hill which sheltered the valley to thenorthward.

  The eyes of the peddler followed the retiring figure of the horseman solong as it continued within view, and as it disappeared from his sight,he drew a long and heavy sigh, as if relieved from a load ofapprehension. The Whartons had meditated in silence on the character andvisit of their unknown guest for the same period, when the fatherapproached Birch and observed,

  "I am yet your debtor, Harvey, for the tobacco you were so kind as tobring me from the city."

  "If it should not prove so good as the first," replied the peddler,fixing a last and lingering look in the direction of Harper's route, "itis owing to the scarcity of the article."

  "I like it much," continued the other; "but you have forgotten to namethe price."

  The countenance of the trader changed, and, losing its expression ofdeep care in a natural acuteness, he answered,--

  "It is hard to say what ought to be the price; I believe I must leave itto your own generosity."

  Mr. Wharton had taken a hand well filled with the images of Carolus IIIfrom his pocket, and now extended it towards Birch with three of thepieces between his finger and thumb. Harvey's eyes twinkled as hecontemplated the reward; and rolling over in his mouth a large quantityof the article in question, coolly stretched forth his hand, into whichthe dollars fell with a most agreeable sound: but not satisfied with thetransient music of their fall, the peddler gave each piece in successiona ring on the stepping-stone of the piazza, before he consigned it tothe safekeeping of a huge deerskin purse, which vanished from the sightof the spectators so dexterously, that not one of them could have toldabout what part of his person it was secreted.

  This very material point in his business so satisfactorily completed,the peddler rose from his seat on the floor of the piazza, andapproached to where Captain Wharton stood, supporting his sisters oneither arm, as they listened with the lively interest of affection tohis conversation.

  The agitation of the preceding incidents had caused such an expenditureof the juices which had become necessary to the mouth of the peddler,that a new supply of the weed was required before he could turn hisattention to business of lesser moment. This done, he asked abruptly,--

  "Captain Wharton, do you go in to-night?"

  "No!" said the captain, laconically, and looking at his lovely burdenswith great affection. "Mr. Birch, would you have me leave such companyso soon, when I may never enjoy it again?"

  "Brother!" said Frances, "jesting on such a subject is cruel."

  "I rather guess," continued the peddler, coolly, "now the storm is over,the Skinners may be moving; you had better shorten your visit,Captain Wharton."

  "Oh!" cried the British officer, "a few guineas will buy off thoserascals at any time, should I meet them. No, no, Mr. Birch, here I stayuntil morning."

  "Money could not liberate Major Andre," said
the peddler, dryly.

  Both the sisters now turned to the captain in alarm, and the elderobserved,--

  "You had better take the advice of Harvey; rest assured, his opinion insuch matters ought not to be disregarded."

  "Yes," added the younger, "if, as I suspect, Mr. Birch assisted you tocome here, your safety, our happiness, dear Henry, requires you tolisten to him now."

  "I brought myself out, and can take myself in," said the captainpositively. "Our bargain went no further than to procure my disguise,and to let me know when the coast was clear; and in the latterparticular, you were mistaken, Mr. Birch."

  "I was," said the peddler, with some interest, "and the greater is thereason why you should get back to-night; the pass I gave you will servebut once."

  "Cannot you forge another?"

  The pale cheek of the trader showed an unusual color, but he continuedsilent, with his eyes fixed on the ground, until the young man added,with great positiveness, "Here I stay this night, come what will."

  "Captain Wharton," said the peddler, with great deliberation and markedemphasis, "beware a tall Virginian, with huge whiskers; he is below you,to my knowledge; the devil can't deceive him; I never could but once."

  "Let him beware of me," said Wharton, haughtily. "But, Mr. Birch, Iexonerate you from further responsibility."

  "Will you give me that in writing?" asked the cautious Birch.

  "Oh! cheerfully," cried the captain, with a laugh. "Caesar! pen, ink,and paper, while I write a discharge for my trusty attendant, HarveyBirch, peddler, etc., etc."

  The implements for writing were produced, and the captain, with greatgayety, wrote the desired acknowledgment in language of his own; whichthe peddler took, and carefully depositing it by the side of the imageof his Catholic Majesty, made a sweeping bow to the whole family, anddeparted as he had approached. He was soon seen at a distance, stealinginto the door of his own humble dwelling.

  The father and sisters of the captain were too much rejoiced inretaining the young man to express, or even entertain, the apprehensionshis situation might reasonably excite; but on retiring to their eveningrepast, a cooler reflection induced the captain to think of changing hismind. Unwilling to trust himself out of the protection of his father'sdomains, the young man dispatched Caesar to desire another interviewwith Harvey. The black soon returned with the unwelcome intelligencethat it was now too late. Katy had told him that Harvey must be miles onhis road to the northward, "having left home at early candlelight withhis pack." Nothing now remained to the captain but patience, until themorning should afford further opportunity of deciding on the best coursefor him to pursue.

  "This Harvey Birch, with his knowing looks and portentous warnings,gives me more uneasiness than I am willing to own," said CaptainWharton, rousing himself from a fit of musing in which the danger of hissituation made no small part of his meditations.

  "How is it that he is able to travel to and fro in these difficulttimes, without molestation?" inquired Miss Peyton.

  "Why the rebels suffer him to escape so easily, is more than I cananswer," returned the other; "but Sir Henry would not permit a hair ofhis head to be injured."

  "Indeed!" cried Frances, with interest. "Is he then known to Sir HenryClinton?"

  "At least he ought to be."

  "Do you think, my son," asked Mr. Wharton, "there is no danger of hisbetraying you?"

  "Why--no; I reflected on that before I trusted myself to his power,"said the captain, thoughtfully. "He seems to be faithful in matters ofbusiness. The danger to himself, should he return to the city, wouldprevent such an act of villainy."

  "I think," said Frances, adopting the manner of her brother, "HarveyBirch is not without good feelings; at least, he has the appearance ofthem at times."

  "Oh!" cried his sister, exulting, "he has loyalty, and that with me is acardinal virtue."

  "I am afraid," said her brother, laughing, "love of money is a strongerpassion than love of his king."

  "Then," said the father, "you cannot be safe while in his power--for nolove will withstand the temptations of money, when offered to avarice."

  "Surely, sir," cried the youth, recovering his gayety, "there must beone love that can resist anything--is there not, Fanny?"

  "Here is your candle; you keep your father up beyond his usual hour."