"Yes," she answered, fearlessly.

"Let us fly," I whispered in a hoarse
voice; "I will give up all for you!" and
for the third time I attempted the ineffectual
manœuvre of lending her support.

"Gracious, Augustus," she said; "he is
dreadfully excited. Will he perform the
marriage?"

"Admirably acted!" I said in a low voice;
"you wish to gain time."

"Will you do it?" he said, in gentler
tones; "it will be the greatest service. We
shall never forget it. There is a small living
on our estate"—

"Do, dearest Mr. Hoblush," she said, with
a bewitching smile.

I started: "Do you mean this?" I said,
huskily; "you, Bo-opis, you are jesting,
surely."

"No, dearest Mr. Hoblush. Did you not
get my note?"

"What note?" said the youth impatiently.

"On your own head be it," I said with
deep reproach. "I would have died sooner
than have given it up."

"Dearest Augustus," she said, in alarm,
"there must be some mistake. I did indeed
write to this gentleman, begging of him to
meet me here, to try what my poor influence
could do in this matter. He refuses. I did
not expect it of him. Voilà tout!"

With I fear a most unsacerdotal address, I
turned on my heel and walked away, with as
much dignity as I could assume. The whole
thing was a wretched farce. The unfortunate
girl, dreading some scene of violence,
had got up this wretched deception. But I
could forgive her for all that. As it was,
only one course was open to me. My peculiar
position as a clergyman, required that
I should at once put myself in communication
with Mr. Twist, senior. His grey
hairs should not be brought with sorrow to the
grave. Let him only meet me in a candid
open manner. Strange! As I wandered
listlessly into the hotel, a note in his hand
was presented to me.

                        LETTER E.

DEAR SIR,—The living is worth five hundred
a-year. I have taken a fancy to you. Your constitution
is like mine, and our symptoms pretty much
the same. The vicar is good seventy. Call on me
this evening, and keep your eyes open.
                                                             Yours, J. T.

Here was a plain, straightforward statement.
I like a man that can speak out.
The wretched pair, ha! ha! They knew not
that the sword was hanging over their heads.
I was at last awakened to a sense of my
duties. I had been too easy; culpably winking
at this gross want of filial respect. I was
repentant at last: awakened, in a spiritual
sense: should be backsliding no more.

Evening drew on gradually, and I was
about taking my hat and gloves to go forth,
when there was brought in to me a despatch,
which, for the sake of clearness, I shall
docket

                          LETTER F.

DEAREST MR. HOBLUSH,—After the scene of this
morning, you will be surprised at receiving these
few lines. They are written in haste: in
distraction. My father threatens to take your life (in
early life he was a notorious duellist); he is breathing
threats of the most terrible description. I
tremble, and know not what to say or think. He
is at this instant oiling and cleaning up his famous
Persuaders, as he calls them. Dear Augustus Twist
is so transformed, I scarcely know him. He is
become a fiend, a fury. He, too, thirsts for your
blood. I know not what to counsel, unless it be to
comply with the easy request we both made to you
this morning.—namely, to marry us privately. Can
you refuse? See me at your feet, the wretched,
innocent cause of all this confusion,—the unhappy
                                                     EMILIA MATILDA.

I sat stupified with my eyes fixed on these
characters. Was it come to this? my life in
danger! I trembled. Even now, at this
instant, the ruffian might be at the door. In
these foreign countries there is no security for
life and limb, as at home: we hear of the
strangest tragedies. A cold perspiration broke
out over me. I rose with tottering limbs,
wiped the film from my glazed eyes, and
thought what I should do: submit? Never!
They should have that satisfaction; the
guilty pair! Ha, a better thought. Waiter!
Sir. Bill, quickly as you can. Pack! pack!
pack! Crush, crumple—best coat—what
matter? Fly, secretly and mysteriously. But,
before I go, one more letter; the last in the
series and docketed: an infernal machine,
that shall explode when I am gone and in
safety.

                         LETTER G.

DEAR SIR,—Reasons of a private and urgent
nature demand my immediate withdrawal from this
lively scene. Your kind promise of the incumbency
I am indeed grateful for: for its fulfilment I shall
wait impatiently. To show you that I have a not
unthankful heart, I enclose you a letter, received
only this instant, which will show you what peril
was impending over your dear boy. This is now
all happily averted. I have refused to lend myself
to the base intrigue. I could not endure to see a
kind and generous parent so imposed upon. Forgive
this warmth, good old man, but you have interested
me strangely. May the evening of your days be
long unclouded,
                                        Yours,
                                                 ALFRED HOBLUSH.

The darkness was now closed in, and I
was alone. All things were ready and
the bill discharged: I went forth quietly,
secretly; I was again alone in the wide wide
world.