full-sail,
with the mother and son in tow, creeping amicably enough up the terrace.
Sir Abraham had given her his arm, and precious Mr. Julian was a little
in the rear: for the old folks were talking confidentially.

George St. Vincent, placing his whip in the well-known position of
"Cane, a mystery," advanced to meet them; and, just after passing his
father, with whom he exchanged a very comfortable glance, discovered
that the heroic Julian, who had caught a glimpse of the ill-concealed
weapon, was slinking quickly round a corner to avoid him. It was
certainly undignified to run, but the gallant captain did run,
nevertheless and soon caught the coward by the collar.

Then, at arm's length, was the hunting-whip applied, full-swing; up the
terrace, and down the parade, and through High-street, and Smith-street,
and Oxton-road, and aristocratical Pacton-square, and the well-thronged
plebeian market-place; lash, lash, lash, in furious and fast succession
on the writhing roaring culprit; to the universal excoriation of Mr.
Julian Tracy, and the amazement of an admiring and soon-collected
crowd--the rank, beauty, and fashion--of Burleigh Singleton. Julian was
strong indeed, and a coal-heaver in build, but conscience had unnerved
him; and the coarse noisy bully always is a coward: therefore, it was a
pleasant thing to see how easy came the captain's work to him--he had
nothing to do but to lash, lash, lash, double-thonged, like a
slave-driver: and, except that he made the caitiff move along, to be a
spectacle to man and woman, up and down the town, he might as well, for
any difficulty in the deed, have been employed in scarifying a
gate-post.

At last, thoroughly exhausted with having inflicted as much punishment
as any three drummers at a soldier's whipping-match, and spying out his
"tiger" in the throng, our gallant Avenging Childe tossed the heavy whip
to the trim cockaded little man, that he might carry home that
instrument of vengeance, deliberately wiped his wet mustachios, and
giving Julian one last kick, let the fellow part in peace.

CHAPTER XVI.

HOW CHARLES FARED.

HAVING thus found protectors for poor Emily, and disposed of her
assailant to the entire satisfaction of all mankind, let us turn
seawards, and take a look at Charles.

Now, "no earthly power,"--as a certain ex-chancellor protested--shall
induce me to do so mean a thing as to open Charles's letters, and spread
them forth before the publi