er."

"Bravo!" cried Turpin. "You may jest now with impunity, Mr. Coates. You
have paid dear enough for your jokes; and when should a man be allowed
to be pleasant, if not at his own expense?--ha, ha! What's this?"
exclaimed he, opening the letter. "A ring, as I'm awake! and from her
ladyship's own fair finger, I'll be sworn, for it bears her cipher,
ineffaceably impressed as your image upon her heart--eh, Coates? Egad!
you are a lucky dog, after all, to receive _such_ a favor from _such_ a
lady--ha, ha! Meantime, I'll take care of it for you," continued Dick,
slipping the ring on his little finger.

Turpin, we have before remarked, had a turn for mimicry; and it was with
an irresistible feeling of deferential awe creeping over him that Coates
heard the contents of Lady Rookwood's epistle delivered with an
enunciation as peremptory and imperious as that of her ladyship's self.
The letter was hastily indited, in a clear, firm hand, and partook of
its writer's decision of character. Dick found no difficulty in
deciphering it. Thus ran the missive:

"Assured of your devotion and secrecy, I commit my own honor, and
that of my son, to your charge. Time will not permit me to see you,
or I would not write. But I place myself entirely in your hands. You
will not dare to betray my confidence. To the point:--A Major
Mowbray has just arrived here with intelligence that the body of
Susan Bradley--you will know to whom I allude--has been removed from
our family vault by a Romish priest and his assistants. How it came
there, or why it has been removed, I know not; it is not my present
purpose to inquire. Suffice it, that it now lies in a vault beneath
the ruins of Davenham Priory. My son, Sir Ranulph, who has lent a
credulous ear to the artful tales of the impostor who calls this
woman mother, is at present engaged in arming certain of the
household, and of the tenantry, to seize upon and bring away this
body, as resistance is apprehended from a horde of gipsies who
infest the ruins. Now, mark me. THAT BODY MUST NOT BE FOUND! Be it
your business to prevent its discovery. Take the fleetest horse you
can procure; spare neither whip nor spur. Haste to the priory;
procure by any means, and at any expense, the assistance of the
gipsies. Find out the body; conceal it, destroy it--do what you
will, so my son find it not. Fear not his resentment; I will bear