tion, called Acheron
to witness, that out of that region there did not exist such an artful
young devil as Miss Lydia. He swore that she was an infernal female
Cerberus, and called down all the wrath of this world and the next upon
his swindling rascal of a brother, who had cajoled him with fair words,
and filched his prize from him.

"Why," says Mr. Warrington (when Will expatiated on these matters with
him), "if the girl is such a she-devil as you describe her, you are all
the better for losing her. If she intends to deceive her husband, and
to give him a dose of poison, as you say, how lucky for you, you are not
the man! You ought to thank the gods, Will, instead of cursing them, for
robbing you of such a fury, and can't be better revenged on Castlewood
than by allowing him her sole possession."

"All this was very well," Will Esmond said; but--not unjustly,
perhaps,--remarked that his brother was not the less a scoundrel for
having cheated him out of the fortune which he expected to get, and
which he had risked his life to win, too.

George Warrington was at a loss to know how his cousin had been made
so to risk his precious existence (for which, perhaps, a rope's end
had been a fitting termination), on which Will Esmond, with the utmost
candour, told his kinsman how the little Cerbera had actually caused
the meeting between them, which was interrupted somehow by Sir John
Fielding's men; how she was always saying that George Warrington was a
coward for ever sneering at Mr. Will, and the latter doubly a poltroon
for not taking notice of his kinsman's taunts; how George had run away
and nearly died of fright in Braddock's expedition; and "Deuce take me,"
says Will, "I never was more surprised, cousin, than when you stood to
your ground so coolly in Tottenham Court Fields yonder, for me and my
second offered to wager that you would never come!"

Mr. Warrington laughed, and thanked Mr. Will for this opinion of him.

"Though," says he, "cousin, 'twas lucky for me the constables came up,
or you would have whipped your sword through my body in another minute.
Didn't you see how clumsy I was as I stood before you? And you actually
turned white and shook with anger!"

"Yes, curse me," says Mr. Will (who turned very red this time), "that's
my way of showing my rage; and I was confoundedly angry with you,
cousin! But now 'tis my brother I hate, and that little devil of a
Countess--a countess! a pretty countess, indeed!"