“Oh, quite well enough, quite well enough,” replied Captain Churchill.  “To say the truth, my task was somewhat of a delicate one, for in these days one might easily involve one’s self in imputations difficult to be got rid of again.  My family have chosen our parts so strongly and decidedly, that my young relation did not venture to see me when he was in London; not, indeed, from any fear of my betraying him, for that, of course, was out of the question,—­but rather from the apprehension of committing me.  He trusted me with this other matter, however, probably not knowing, first, that I was ill, and had been in bed all yesterday, and, next, that this diabolical plot for assassinating the King and admitting the enemy into the heart of the land has been discovered.  The letter came about an hour after Lord Byerdale’s, and just in time to save me from denying that I was out of my own house all yesterday.  But you do not take the ring, Mr. Brown:  pray accept it as a mere token of gratitude and esteem on the part of the Duke.  His esteem, I can assure you, is worth having.”

“I doubt it not in the least, my dear sir,” replied Wilton; “but yet I must beg to decline his gift:  in the first place, because I am entitled to no gratitude; and in the next, because the Duke must be considered as an enemy of the government I serve.  He certainly saved my life; for I do not suppose the man who was in the act of firing at me would have missed his mark, if his hand had not been knocked up.  After that I could not, of course, suffer the Duke to be arrested by my side, if I could help it, and therefore I did what I could to assist him, but that was little.”

Churchill endeavoured, by various arguments, to persuade his young companion to receive the ring; but Wilton would not suffer himself to be moved upon the subject; and had, at all events, the satisfaction of hearing Churchill himself acknowledge, as he was taking his leave, “Well, after all, I believe you are right.”

Their conference was not very long; for it may be easily imagined, that one of the party, at least, was anxious to proceed on his way in another direction; and leaving Captain Churchill as soon as he decently could, Wilton returned to his house, changed his dress, and entered one of those vehicles called hackney coaches, which, in the days of King William III, were as rumbling and crazy, and even more slow, than at present.

Before he reached Beaufort House, Wilton’s patience was well nigh exhausted; but if we may tell the truth, there was one as impatient. as himself.  When they had arrived that morning at Beaufort House, Laura’s thoughts had been divided.  Her anxiety to see her father, to tell him she was safe, to give joy to the heart of one she loved with the fullest feelings of filial affection, had a strong share in all her sensations; but that was over, and her mind turned to Wilton again.  In telling her father all that had occurred, in recounting everything that Wilton