u were my
lady's heir, and is not George Esmond Warrington, Esq.--?"

"Hold your tongue, you fool!" cried Mr. Franks, striking the merchant a
tough blow on his sleek sides, as the young lad turned away. "Don't you
see the young gentleman a-swabbing his eyes, and note his black clothes?"

"What do you mean, Captain Franks, by laying your hand on your owners?
Mr. George is the heir; I know the Colonel's will well enough."

"Mr. George is there," said the Captain, pointing with his thumb
to the deck.

"Where?" cries the factor.

"Mr. George is there!" reiterated the Captain, again lifting up his
finger towards the topmast, or the sky beyond. "He is dead a year, sir,
come next 9th of July. He would go out with General Braddock on that
dreadful business to the Belle Riviere. He and a thousand more never came
back again. Every man of them was murdered as he fell. You know the
Indian way, Mr. Trail?" And here the Captain passed his hand rapidly
round his head.

"Horrible! ain't it, sir? Horrible! He was a fine young man, the very
picture of this one; only his hair was black, which is now hanging in a
bloody Indian wigwam. He was often and often on board of the 'Young
Rachel,' and would have his chests of books broke open on deck before
they landed. He was a shy and silent young gent, not like this one, which
was the merriest, wildest young fellow, full of his songs and fun. He
took on dreadful at the news; went to his bed, had that fever which lays
so many of 'em by the heels along that swampy Potomac, but he's got
better on the voyage: the voyage makes everyone better; and, in course,
the young gentleman can't be forever a-crying after a brother who dies
and leaves him a great fortune. Ever since we sighted Ireland he has been
quite gay and happy, only he would go off at times when he was most
merry, saying, 'I wish my dearest Georgie could enjoy this here sight
along with me,' and when you mentioned t'other's name, you see, he
couldn't stand it." And the honest Captain's own eyes filled with tears,
as he turned and looked towards the object of his compassion.

Mr. Trail assumed a sad expression befitting the tragic compliment with
which he prepared to greet the young Virginian; but the latter answered
him very curtly, declining his offers of hospitality, and only stayed in
Mr. Trail's house long enough to drink a glass of wine and to take up a
sum of money of which he stood in need. But he and Captain Franks parted
o