I thought him mad, but kept on by the side of his horse ’till we came to the gate of a meadow, where he dismounted.

Now, Sir,’ said he, with a look that bespoke his consequence,—­have patience, whilst I tie up my horse.

Patience, John! (and I swore at him) I am out of all patience.

With that he condescended to deliver your letters.—­I rambled with surprise at the contents, and fell against a hedge.—­John, who by this time had fasten’d his steed, came up to me just as I recover’d my legs;—­and speaking close to my ear,—­’Twas John Warren, Sir, was the man who found out the Lady; ’twas I was the man, Sir.

I shook him heartily by the hand, but for my soul could not utter a syllable.—­I hope you are not ill, Sir, said the poor fellow, thinking me seiz’d speechless.—­

No, John;—­no, reply’d I; it is only excess of pleasure.—­You are a welcome messenger:—­you have made your fortune, John Warren, and please your honour, has made his dear Lord happy;—­that is more pleasurable to him than all the riches in the world.

You are an honest, good creature, John.

Ay, Captain; but was it not very sensible to remember the young Lady’s hand-writing?—­Would a powder-headed monkey have had the forecast?

Oh very sensible, John;—­very sensible, indeed!—­Now go the Abbey;—­ask for my servant;—­say you was sent by Mr. Molesworth to enquire for the family; but do not mention you have seen me:—­I shall return by a different way.

John mounted immediately, and I walk’d full speed towards the house.  I found Mr. Morgan taking long strides up and down the dining-parlour, puffing, blowing, and turning his wig on every side.

Where have you been, Captain?  I have sent to seek you.—­Lord Darcey’s servant is without;—­come to enquire how things are here.—­I would not let them send his message up;—­but I have been out myself to ask for his Lordship.

Well, Sir, and what says the servant?

Says!—­Faith I hardly know what he says—­something about hopes of him:—­to be plain, I should think it better if hope was out of the question.—­If he and all of us were dead—­But see John yourself; I will send him to you.

As he was just without the door, I drew him back,—­and turn’d the key.—­

Come hither, Sir;—­Come hither, Mr. Morgan:—­I have something of importance to communicate.

D——­n ye, Captain, what’s the matter now? (staring.)—­I’ll hear no more bad news:—­upon my soul, I’ll run out of it (attempting to open the door).

Hold, Sir; why this impatience?—­Miss Powis lives!—­Will you run from me now?—­Miss Powis lives!—­With that he sent forth a horrid noise;—­something betwixt howling and screaming.—­It reach’d the dressing-room, as well it might:—­had the wind sat that way, I question if the village would not have been alarm’d.—­Down ran Sir James and Mr. Powis into the library;—­out jump’d Mr. Morgan.—­I held up my hand for him to retreat:—­he disregarding the caution, I follow’d.—­Sir James was inquiring of a servant whence the noise had proceeded.