interest in his welfare testified by a heretical priest, but by
the generosity with which he was admitted into a well-born and wealthy
family, despite his notorious poverty and his foreign descent. He
conceded the propriety of the only stipulation, which was conveyed
to him by the parson with all the delicacy that became one long
professionally habituated to deal with the subtler susceptibilities of
mankind,--namely, that, amongst Riccabocca's friends or kindred, some
person should be found whose report would confirm the persuasion of his
respectability entertained by his neighbours,--he assented, I say,
to the propriety of this condition; but it was not with alacrity and
eagerness. His brow became clouded. The parson hastened to assure him
that the squire was not a man qui stupet in titulis,--["Who was besotted
with titles."]--that he neither expected nor desired to find an
origin and rank for his brother-in-law above that decent mediocrity
of condition to which it was evident from Riccabocca's breeding and
accomplishments he could easily establish his claim. "And though," said
he, smiling, "the squire is a warm politician in his own country, and
would never see his sister again, I fear, if she married some convicted
enemy of our happy constitution, yet for foreign politics he does not
care a straw; so that if, as I suspect, your exile arises from some
quarrel with your government,--which, being foreign, he takes for
granted must be insupportable,--he would but consider you as he would
a Saxon who fled from the iron hand of William the Conqueror, or a
Lancastrian expelled by the Yorkists in our Wars of the Roses."

The Italian smiled. "Mr. Hazeldean shall be satisfied," said he, simply.
"I see, by the squire's newspaper, that an English gentleman who knew me
in my own country has just arrived in London. I will write to him for
a testimonial, at least to my probity and character. Probably he may
be known to you by name,--nay, he must be, for he was a distinguished
officer in the late war. I allude to Lord L'Estrange."

The parson started.

"You know Lord L'Estrange?--profligate, bad man, I fear."

"Profligate! bad!" exclaimed Riccabocca. "Well, calumnious as the world
is, I should never have thought that such expressions would be applied
to one who, though I knew him but little,--knew him chiefly by the
service he once rendered to me,--first taught me to love and revere the
English name!"

"He may be changed since