“That has he,” answered the aged man addressed by the female; “that has he; or, as one might say, two; since yonder frigate is no less his than the dwelling on the hill, just by.”

“Thou art too old to point us out the way; but, if grandchild, or idler of any sort, be near, here is silver to reward him.”

“Lord help you, Lady!” returned the other, casting an oblique glance at her appearance, as a sort of salvo for the term, and pocketing the trifling piece she offered, with singular care; “Lord help you, Madam! old though I am, and something worn down by hardships and marvellous adventures, both by sea land, yet will I gladly do so small an office for one of your condition.  Follow, and you shall see that your pilot is not altogether unused to the path.”

The old man turned, and was leading the way off the wharf, even before he had completed the assurance of his boasted ability.  The seamen and the female followed; the latter walking sorrowfully and in silence by the side of the litter.

“If you have need of refreshment,” said their guide, pointing over his shoulder, “yonder is a well known inn, and one much frequented in its time by mariners.  Neighbour Joram and the ‘Foul Anchor’ have had a reputation in their day, as well as the greatest warrior in the land; and, though honest Joe is gathered-in for the general harvest, the house stands as firm as the day he first entered it.  A goodly end he made, and profitable is it to the weak-minded sinner to keep such an example before his eyes!”

A low, smothered sound issued from the litter but, though the guide stopped to listen, it was succeeded by no other evidence of the character of its tenant.

“The sick man is in suffering,” he resumed; “but bodily pain, and all afflictions which we suffer in the flesh, must have their allotted time.  I have lived to see seven bloody and cruel wars, of which this, which now rages, is, I humbly trust, to be the last.  Of the wonders which I witnessed, and the bodily dangers which I compassed, in the sixth, eye hath never beheld, nor can tongue utter, their equal!”

“Time hath dealt hardly by you, friend,” meekly interrupted the female.  “This gold may add a few more comfortable days to those that are already past.”

The cripple, for their conductor was lame as well as aged, received the offering with gratitude, apparently too much occupied in estimating its amount, to give any more of his immediate attention to the discourse.  In the deep silence that succeeded, the party reached the door of the villa they sought.

It was now night; the short twilight of the season having disappeared, while the bearers of the litter had been ascending the hill.  A loud rap was given on the door by the guide; and then he was told that his services were no longer needed.

“I have seen much and hard service,” he replied, “and well do I know that the prudent manner does not dismiss the pilot, until the ship is safely moored.  Perhaps old Madam de Lacey is abroad, or the Captain himself may not”——­