never yielded; and on one occasion he expressed himself so harshly and ungratefully, that Wilton turned round and left him in the park.  They were on horseback at the time; and Lord Sherbrooke rode on a little way, without taking the slightest notice of his companion’s departure.  He then suddenly turned his horse, however, and galloping after him at full speed, he held out his hand to him, saying, “Wilton, you must either fight me or forgive me, for this state must not last five minutes.”

Wilton took his hand, replying, “I forgive you with all my heart, Sherbrooke, and let me once more explain that my only view, my only wish, is to be of assistance to you.  I see, Sherbrooke, that you are melancholy, wretched, anxious.  I wish much to do anything that I can to relieve that state of mind; and though I have no power, and very little interest, yet there do occasionally occur opportunities to me, which, as you have seen in the case of Lady Laura, afford me means of doing things which might not be expected from my situation.”

“You can neither help me, nor relieve me, nor assist me in the least, Wilton,” replied Lord Sherbrooke, “unless, indeed, you could entirely change beings with me; unless you become me, and I become you.  But it cannot be, and I cannot even explain to you any part of my situation.  Therefore ask me nothing more upon the subject, and only be contented that it is from no want of confidence in you that I hold my tongue.”

“I hope and trust that it is not,” replied Wilton; “but now that we are speaking upon the subject, let me still say one word more.  I can conceive, from various reasons, that you may not think fit to confide in me.  I am a man of your own age, with less wit, less experience, less knowledge of the world than you have—­”

“You have more wit in your little finger, more knowledge of the world, and experience—­Heaven knows how you got it—­more common sense, ay, and uncommon sense too, than ever I shall have in my life,” replied Lord Sherbrooke, hastily.

“But hear me, Sherbrooke, hear me,” said Wilton—­“whatever may be the cause, it does not suit you to take my advice and assistance.  Now there is one person in whom you may fully rely, who will never betray your confidence, who will give you the very best advice, and I am sure will, if it be in his power, render you still more important assistance—­I mean Lord Sunbury.  He is now at Geneva, on his way home, waiting for passports from France.  In his last letter, lie mentioned you with much interest, and desired me—­”

“Good God!” cried Lord Sherbrooke, “that I should ever create any interest in anybody!  However, Wilton, your suggestion is not a bad one.  Perhaps you have pointed out the only man in Europe in whom I could confide with propriety, strange as that may seem.  But in the first place, I must consult with others.—­Have you seen your friend Green lately?”

“Not since the night before all that business in Kent,” replied Wilton.  “I have sought to see him, but have never been able; and I begin to apprehend that he must have taken a part in this conspiracy, different from that I imagined, and has absented himself on that account.”