ised.

"Tromp," said Hagedorn (we take the liberty of translating, in this, and
all other similar cases), "I thought you kept a regular, decent house.
Such is the character you pretend to, at any rate."

"And such," replied Tromp, with a blush of honest indignation, "is the
character I maintain. Who shall gainsay it?"

"Why, there are some things going on here to-night that don't look much
like it," replied Hagedorn. "Know ye, Tromp, or does Juliana know, who
this one-eyed gallant is?" pointing to the late serenader.

"Whether they do or not, they shall soon know, and so shall you to your
cost, Hagedorn!" replied the minstrel, starting to his feet, and hastily
stripping off the disguise, eye-patch and all, in which he was
enveloped; a proceeding which discovered to the astonished
onlookers--not, however, including either Jones or Juliana, who had a
previous knowledge of his identity--a tall, handsome,
gentlemanly-looking young man, well known as Sir Lionel Musgrave, one of
the gayest and most respected of those English gentlemen who shared the
misfortunes and exile of Charles II. during the existence of the
Commonwealth.

"Ha!" said Hagedorn, starting to his feet, on Musgrave discovering
himself. "So, I have unearthed the fox, eh!" And, as he spoke, he made a
grasp at Musgrave's throat; which the latter evaded by adroitly stepping
back a pace, when he instantly drew his sword and made a pass at
Hagedorn, who, however, skilfully warded it off with his cutlass, to
which he had had recourse the moment he missed his hold of his
antagonist. These proceedings were, of course, a signal to all the other
men in the apartment to muster on their respective sides; and this they
instantly did. Hagedorn's men immediately drew; Jones and his party did
the same; and the women ran screaming from the scene of the impending
contest. In one instant after, a general melee commenced. There were
deep oaths, overturning of tables, and clashing of swords in every
direction, and all the other characteristics of a tremendous and very
serious hubbub. Blows, too, were not wanting. They fell thick and fast
on all sides.

Hitherto our friend the laird had remained an idle, but
sufficiently-astonished spectator of the strange and sudden scene that
had been thus brought before his visual organs. Though an idle, he was
not altogether, however, a mute witness of the proceedings that were
going forward.

"'Od! this _is_ a queer business!" he mutt