loquy was concluded, Herbert and Capitola came up
to him. He welcomed Herbert again with great cordiality, and then called
to his man to put up the horses, and bade the young people to follow him
into the house, as the air was getting chilly.

"And how did you find your good friends, lad?" inquired Old Hurricane,
when they had reached the sitting parlor.

"Oh, very well, sir! and very grateful for your offered kindness; and,
indeed, so anxious to express their gratitude--that--that I shortened my
visit and came away immediately to tell you."

"Right, lad, right! You come by the down coach?"

"Yes, sir, and got off at Tip Top, where I hired a horse to bring me
here. I must ask you to let one of your men take him back to Mr. Merry
at the Antler's Inn to-morrow."

"Surely, surely, lad! Wool shall do it!"

"And so, Herbert, the poor woman was delighted at the prospect of better
times?" said Old Hurricane, with a little glow of benevolent
self-satisfaction.

"Oh, yes, sir; delighted beyond all measure!"

"Poor thing! poor thing! See, young folks, how easy it is for the
wealthy, by sparing a little of their superfluous means, to make the
poor and virtuous happy! And the boy, Herbert, the boy?"

"Oh, sir! delighted for himself, but still more delighted for his
mother; for her joy was such as to astonish and even alarm me! Before
that I had thought Marah Rocke a proud woman, but----"

"What!--say that again!" exclaimed Major Warfield. "I say that I thought
she was a proud woman, but----"

"Thought who was a proud woman, sir?" roared Old Hurricane.

"Marah Rocke!" replied the young man, with wonder.

Major Warfield started up, seized the chair upon which he had sat and
struck it upon the ground with such force as to shatter it to pieces;
then turning, he strode up and down the floor with such violence that
the two young people gazed after him in consternation and fearful
expectancy. Presently he turned suddenly, strode up to Herbert Greyson
and stood before him.

His face was purple, his veins swollen and they stood out upon his
forehead like cords, his eyes were protruded and glaring, his mouth
clenched until the grizzly gray mustache and beard were drawn in, his
whole huge frame was quivering from head to foot. It was impossible to
tell what passion--whether rage, grief or shame--the most possessed him,
for all three seemed tearing his giant frame to pieces.

For an instant he stood speechless, and Herbert fe