very much, he was such a good-natured
goosey— was already in love, and secretly
engaged to a farmer's daughter, a stout, tall,
red-haired girl, with blue eyes, and a very
florid, but clear, complexion. Just the girl,
in short, to captivate poor John, whose taste
was not particularly refined. She had,
besides, the exact amount of learning to suit
poor John, who was not an erudite person by
any means. I, too, had a secret engagement
with a younger son of Sir Francis Bowman,
and who was a lieutenant in a regiment of
foot. Squire Pack and my father were both
great tyrants, and to have offered the slightest
opposition to their plans would possibly have
led to their putting into execution,
respectively, that threat which was constantly on
the lips of either of them: I'll turn you out
of doors, and cut you off with a shilling!
John Pack and I therefore came to an
understanding. We were to be lovers in the
presence of the old people; but, to every
other intent and purpose, we were to assist
each other in corresponding with our true
loves— trusting, as we did, to some accident
or some quarrel between our fathers to annul
the marriage contract they had entered into
on our behalf. Matters went on this way
for several months, and nothing could be
more satisfactory to us young people. John
Pack frequently carried letters and messages
for me, and I as frequently did the same for
him. Squire Pack and my father used to
quarrel once in every year, and for a month
or two were the most implacable enemies;
but, at the end of such term, the one or the
other would give way, make an advance
(which was always met), shake hands, and
become as good friends as ever. The truth
was, that when the evenings drew in, they
missed their game of cribbage; for John
Pack was a very sleepy person over cards,
and, as for myself, I could never play at any
game except beggar-my-neighbour.

"One morning in the month of December
the hounds met a few miles from our house.
Squire Pack and my father rode to cover
together. John Pack, who had brought me
a letter from my lover, accompanied them
and joined the meet. The moment they were
out of the gate I broke the seal and read as
follows:

"' DEAREST KATE, If you possibly can, meet me
on the Halifax road, near The Hen and Chickens.
I will be there at eleven, and will wait till two in
the hope of seeing you. I have something very
important to communicate. My father intends
having an interview with your father, the day after
to-morrow. I would have ridden over to the
Hatch, only you gave me such good reasons for not
doing so, or even coming near the place at present.
In haste.

"' Ever affectionately yours,

"'George BOWMAN.'

"The Hen and Chickens, a roadside inn,
was distant from the Hutch (the name of my
father's house) about six miles; and, when I
received my lover's letter it was nearly half-
past ten o'clock. I flew to the stables, and
ordered the groom to saddle my horse. To
my disgust, he informed me that the animal
was as lame as a cat. I then ordered him to
put my saddle on Marlborough, a second
hunter of my father's. The groom told me
that the horse had been taken to a point
called Milebush, where the Squire expected
to pick him up fresh. I then said 'Saddle
the old mare,' and was given to understand
that she had gone to the farrier's to be shod.
What was to be done ? I deliberated for a
few minutes, and then ordered the groom to
take my side-saddle and bridle and follow me
to Squire Pack's, and, hastily attiring myself
in my riding-habit and hat, I ran across the
fields as fast as I could, and made for the
stables of our neighbour. The only saddle
horse in the Squire's stables at the time was
a magnificent thorough-bred colt, which had
just been broken in; and this colt the
Squire's groom was not disposed to saddle
for me without the Squire's personal order.
Becoming very impatient, for it then wanted
only three minutes to eleven, I shook my
whip at the groom, and said: ' Saddle him
this instant! Refuse at your peril! You
shall be discharged this very night! ' All
Squire Pack's servants as well as our own
believed that I was to be John Pack's wife,
and the groom, fearful of that gentleman's
wrath, no longer hesitated to obey my
instructions. The colt was saddled and brought
out. I mounted him, and laid him along the
road at the very top of his speed, perfectly
satisfied that John Pack would take care
that my father never heard of my adventure,
and that HIS father would say nothing about
it— determined as I was to have a note for
John, to be delivered on his return from the
chace.

"It was exactly nineteen minutes past
eleven when I arrived at the Hen and
Chickens, and found George Bowman waiting
for me. He had walked over from his
father's house. The colt I had ridden was
so bathed in perspiration that I alighted, and
caused him to be taken into a shed and
rubbed down. While the stable-boys were
so engaged, George and I walked along the
road, and discoursed intently on our affairs
for more than an hour and a-half. We then
returned to the inn, and I gave orders for
the colt to be saddled. But, alas! the colt was
not in the stable wherein he had been placed
after he had been rubbed down, nor was a
traveller, who was dressed like a gentleman,
and who had come to the inn to bait his
jaded horse, shortly after my arrival, to be
found on the premises, though his horse was
in one of the stalls — a horse that must have
been a very swift and valuable creature in
his day, but then rather old and broken-
winded. There could be no doubt that this
person, whoever he might be, had made the