ere and there, glimpses of the truth, in
the few circumstances of family history alluded to. Not so, Don Rica;
neither confusion nor hesitation troubled the free working of his acute
faculties, but he sat still, patiently watching the effect of this
intelligence on the youth before him. At length, perceiving that he did
not speak, he himself turned towards the stranger, and said,--

"You are, doubtless, a man of the world, sir, and need no apologies for
my remarking that good news demands a scrutiny not less searching than
its opposite. As the _friend_ of Senhor Cashel,"--here he turned a
glance beneath his heavy brows at the youth, who, however, seemed not
to notice the word,--"as his friend, I repeat, deeply interested in
whatever affects him, I may, perhaps, be permitted to ask the details of
this very remarkable event."

"If you mean the trial, sir,--or rather the trials, for there were three
at bar, not to mention a suit in equity and a bill of discovery--"

"No, I should be sorry to trespass so far upon you," interrupted Rica.
"What I meant was something in the shape of an assurance,--something
like satisfactory proof that this narrative, so agreeable to believe,
should have all the foundation we wish it."

"Nothing easier," said Mr. Simms, producing an enormous black leather
pocket-book from the breast of his coat, and opening it leisurely on
the table before him. "Here are, I fancy, documents quite sufficient to
answer all your inquiries. This is the memorandum of the verdict taken
at Bath, with the note of the Attorney-General, and the point reserved,
in which motion for a new trial was made."

"What is this?" asked Cashel, now speaking for the first time, as he
took up a small book of strange shape, and looked curiously at it.

"Check-book of the bank of Fordyce and Grange, Lombard Street," replied
Simms; "and here, the authority by which you are at liberty to draw on
the firm for the balance already in their hands, amounting to--let me
see "--here he rapidly set down certain figures on the corner of a
piece of paper, and with the speed of lightning performed a sum in
arithmetic--"the sum of one hundred and twenty-three thousand pounds
seven and elevenpence, errors excepted."

"This sum is mine!" cried Cashel, as his eyes flashed fire, and his dark
cheek grew darker with excitement.

"It is only a moiety of your funded property," said Simms. "Castellan
and Biggen, the notaries, certify to a much larger