from which it diverged, and stretched itself in a gentle curve across his rubicund cheeks. Spite of his years and embonpoint, Murphy was active and athletic; his countenance, though somewhat phlegmatic, was expressive of great resolution and kindliness of nature; he wore a white neck-handkerchief, a deep waistcoat, and a long black coat, with very wide skirts; his breeches, of an olive green colour, corresponded in material with the gaiters which protected his sturdy legs, without reaching entirely to the knee, but allowing the strings belonging to his upper garment to display themselves in long unstudied bows; in fact, the dress and whole tournure of Murphy exactly accorded with the idea of what in England is styled a "gentleman farmer." Now, the personage we are describing, though an English squire, was no farmer. At the moment of Rodolph's appearance in the yard, Murphy was in the act of depositing, in the pocket of a small travelling caléche, a pair of small pistols he had just been carefully cleaning.
"What the devil are you going to do with those pistols?" inquired Rodolph.
"That is my business, my lord," replied Murphy, descending the carriage steps; "attend to your affairs, and I will mind mine."
"At what o'clock have you ordered the horses?"
"According to your directions—at nightfall."
"You got here this morning, I suppose?"
"I did, at eight o'clock. Madame Georges has had ample time to make all the preparations you desired."
"What has gone wrong, Murphy? You seem completely out of humour. Have I done anything to offend you?"
"Can you not, my lord, accomplish your self-imposed task without incurring so much personal risk?"
"Surely, in order to lull all suspicion in the minds of the persons I seek to understand and fully appreciate, I cannot do better than, for a time, to adopt their garb, their language, and their customs."
"But all this did not prevent you, my lord, last night (in that abominable place where we went to unkennel Bras Rouge, in hopes of getting out of him some particulars relative to that unhappy son of Madame Georges), from being angry, and ready to quarrel with me, because I wished to aid in your tussle with the rascal you encountered in that horrid cut-throat alley."
"I suppose, then, Murphy, you do not think I am capable of defending myself, and you either doubt my courage or the strength of my arm?"
"Unfortunately, you have given me too many reasons to form a contrary opinion of both. Thank God! Flatman, the Bertrand of Germany, perfected you in the knowledge of fencing; Tom Cribb taught you to box; Lacour, of Paris, accomplished you in single-stick, wrestling, and slang, so as to render you fully provided for your venturesome excursions. You are bold as a lion, with muscles like iron, and, though so slight in form, I should have no more chance with you than a dray-horse would against a racer, were they to compete with each other. No mistake about that."
"Then what are you afraid of?"
"Why, I maintain, my lord, that it is not the right thing for you to throw yourself in the way of all these blackguards. I do not say that because of the nuisance it is to a highly respectable individual of my acquaintance to blacken his face with charcoal, and make himself look like a devil. No, God knows, spite of my age, my figure, and my gravity, I would disguise myself as a rope-dancer, if, by so doing, I could serve you. But I still stick to what I say, and—"
"Oh! I know all you would say, my excellent old fellow, and that when once you have taken an idea into your thick skull, the very devil himself could no more drive it out of you than he could, by all his arts, remove the fidelity and devotion implanted in your brave and valiant heart."
"Come, come, my lord, now you begin to flatter me, I suspect you are up to some fresh mischief."
"Think no such thing, Murphy; give yourself no uneasiness, but leave all to me."
"My lord, I cannot be easy; there is some new folly in hand, and I am sure of it."
"My good friend, you mean well; but you are choosing a very ill hour for your lectures; forbear, I beg."
"And why, my lord, can you not listen to me now, as well as any other time?"
"Because you are interfering with one of my short-lived moments of pride and happiness. I am here, in this dear spot!"
"Where you have done so much good. I know it. Your 'model farm,' as you term it, built by you to instruct, to encourage, and to reward deserving labourers, has been of incalculable service to this part of the country. Ordinary men think but of improving their cattle; you, more wisely and benevolently, have directed your exertions for the bettering your fellow creatures. Nothing can be better; and when you placed Madame Georges at the head of the establishment, you acted with the utmost wisdom and provident good sense. What a woman she is! No, she is an angel!—so good, so firm, so noble, and upright! I am not easily moved, my lord, as you know; but often have I felt my eyes grow moist, as her many trials and misfortunes rise to my recollection. But about your new protégée, however, my lord; if you please, we will not say much on that subject. 'The least said is soonest mended,' as the old proverb has it."
"Why not, Murphy?"
"My lord, you will do what you think proper."
"I do what is just," said Rodolph, with an air of impatience.
"What is just, according to your own interpretation."
"What is just before God and my own conscience," replied Rodolph, in a severe tone.
"Well, my lord, this is a point on which we cannot agree, and therefore let us speak no more about it."
"I desire you will continue to talk about it!" cried Rodolph, imperiously.
"I have never been so circumstanced that your royal highness should have to bid me hold my tongue, and I hope I shall not now be ordered to speak when I should be silent," said Murphy, proudly.
"Mr. Murphy!" said Rodolph, with a tone of increased irritation.
"My lord!"
"You know, sir, how greatly I detest anything like concealment."
"Your royal highness will excuse me, but it suits me to have certain concealments," said Murphy, bluntly.
"If I descend to familiarity with you, sir, it is on condition that you, at least, act with entire frankness towards me."
It is impossible to describe the extreme hauteur which marked the countenance of Rodolph as he uttered these words.
"I am fifty years of age, I am a gentleman, and your royal highness should not address me in such a tone."
"Be silent!"
"My lord!"
"Be silent! I say."
"Your royal highness does wrong in compelling a man of honour and feeling to recall the services he has rendered to you," said the squire, in a calm tone.
"Have I not repaid those services in a thousand ways?"
It should be stated that Rodolph had not attached to these bitter words the humiliating sense which could place Murphy in the light of a mercenary; but such, unfortunately, was the esquire's interpretation of them. He
