his--this famous scholar's--Ehem?"

"Why," quoth Peter, "you saw the direction in which the young ladies
went; you must take the same. Cross the stile you will find at the
right--wind along the foot of the hill for about three parts of a mile,
and you will then see in the middle of a broad plain, a lonely grey
house with a thingumebob at the top; a servatory they call it. That's
Master Aram's."

"Thank you."

"And a very pretty walk it is too," said the Dame, "the prettiest
hereabouts to my liking, till you get to the house at least; and so the
young ladies think, for it's their usual walk every evening!"

"Humph,--then I may meet them."

"Well, and if you do, make yourself look as Christian-like as you can,"
retorted the hostess.

There was a second grin at the ill-favoured Traveller's expense, amidst
which he went his way.

"An odd chap!" said Peter, looking after the sturdy form of the
Traveller. "I wonder what he is; he seems well edicated--makes use of
good words."

"What sinnifies?" said the Corporal, who felt a sort of fellow-feeling
for his new acquaintance's brusquerie of manner;--"what sinnifies what
he is. Served his country,--that's enough;--never told me, by the by,
his regiment;--set me a talking, and let out nothing himself;--old
soldier every inch of him!"

"He can take care of number one," said Peter. "How he emptied the jug;
and my stars! what an appetite!"

"Tush," said the Corporal, "hold jaw. Man of the world--man of the
world,--that's clear."

CHAPTER III.

A DIALOGUE AND AN ALARM.--A STUDENT'S HOUSE.

"A fellow by the hand of Nature marked,
Quoted, and signed, to do a deed of shame."
--Shakspeare.--King John.

"He is a scholar, if a man may trust
The liberal voice of Fame, in her report.
Myself was once a student, and indeed
Fed with the self-same humour he is now."
--Ben Jonson.--Every Man in his Humour.

The two sisters pursued their walk along a scene which might well be
favoured by their selection. No sooner had they crossed the stile, than
the village seemed vanished into earth; so quiet, so lonely, so far from
the evidence of life was the landscape through which they passed. On
their right, sloped a green and silent hill, shutting out all view
beyond itself, save the deepening and twilight sky; to the left, and
immediately along their road lay fragments of stone, cov