as changed--the
tears still rolled in large drops down his cheeks, but the proud, stern
character which the features had assumed, seemed to deny the feelings
which that feminine weakness had betrayed.

"Pelham," he said, "you have seen me thus; I had hoped that no living
eye would--this is the last time in which I shall indulge this folly.
God bless you--we shall meet again--and this night shall then seem to
you like a dream."

I would have answered, but he turned swiftly, passed in one moment
through the copse, and in the next had utterly disappeared.

CHAPTER VII.

You reach a chilling chamber, where you dread Damps.--Crabbe's Borough.

I could not sleep the whole of that night, and the next morning, I set
off early, with the resolution of discovering where Glanville had taken
up his abode; it was evident from his having been so frequently seen,
that it must be in the immediate neighbourhood.

I went first to Farmer Sinclair's; they had often remarked him, but
could give me no other information. I then proceeded towards the coast;
there was a small public house belonging to Sir Lionel close by the sea
shore; never had I seen a more bleak and dreary prospect than that which
stretched for miles around this miserable cabaret. How an innkeeper
could live there is a mystery to me at this day--I should have imagined
it a spot upon which anything but a sea-gull or a Scotchman would have
starved.

"Just the sort of place, however," thought I, "to hear something of
Glanville." I went into the house; I inquired, and heard that a strange
gentleman had been lodging for the last two or three weeks at a cottage
about a mile further up the coast. Thither I bent my steps; and after
having met two crows, and one officer on the preventive service, I
arrived safely at my new destination.

It was a house very little better, in outward appearance, than the
wretched but I had just left, for I observe in all situations, and in
all houses, that "the public" is not too well served. The situation was
equally lonely and desolate; the house, which belonged to an individual,
half fisherman and half smuggler, stood in a sort of bay, between two
tall, rugged, black cliffs. Before the door hung various nets, to dry
beneath the genial warmth of a winter's sun; and a broken boat, with
its keel uppermost, furnished an admirable habitation for a hen
and her family, who appeared to receive en pension, an old
clerico-bachelor-looking raven