en directed to it by the postmaster of the hamlet,--a man who,
if he had been condemned to subsist solely on the proceeds of the
village post-office, would have been compelled to give up the ghost, or
the post, in a week.

"We must be careful, Eve, how we break it to her," said I, as we neared
the top.

Arrived at the summit of the hill we found a rustic table, also a rustic
seat on which was seated a comely matron engaged in the very commonplace
work of darning socks. She cast on us a sharp and remarkably
penetrating glance as we approached. Doubtless our appearance was
peculiar, for a pretty maiden in savage costume, a somewhat ragged white
man, and a gigantic savage, all mounted on magnificent steeds and
looking travel-stained and worn after a journey of many weeks, was not
probably an everyday sight, even in those regions.

Dismounting and advancing to act as spokesman, while my companions sat
motionless and silent in their saddles, I pulled off my cap.

"I have been directed to this house as the abode of Mrs Liston," said I
with a tremor of anxiety, for I knew that the comely matron before me
could not be she whom I sought, and feared there might be some mistake.

"You have been directed aright, sir. May I ask who it is that desires
to see her?"

"My name is Maxby," said I, quickly, for I was becoming nervously
impatient. "I am quite a stranger to Mrs Liston, but I would see her,
because I bring her news--news of importance--in fact a message from her
long-lost son."

"From Willie Liston?" exclaimed the lady, starting up, and seizing my
arm, while she gazed into my face with a look of wild surprise. "Is
he--but it cannot be--impossible--he must be--"

"He is dead," said I, in a low, sad voice, as she hesitated.

"Yes," she returned, clasping her hands but without any of the wild look
in her eyes now. "We have mourned him as dead for many, many years.
Stay, I will call his--but--perhaps--sometimes it is kindness to
conceal. If there is anything sad to tell, might it not be well to
leave his poor mother in ignorance? She is old and--"

"No, madam," I interrupted, "that may not be. I have a message from him
to his mother."

"A message! Then you knew him?"

"No; I never saw him."

"Strange! You have a message from him, yet never saw him. Can you not
give me the message, to convey it to her? She is getting frail and a
shock might be serious. I am William Liston's cousin, and have come to
t