mind; it has indeed. You
have no idea of a parent's anxiety in these matters, especially of a
grandfather. You will some day, I warrant you,' continued the noble
grandfather, with an expression between a giggle and a leer; 'but do
not be wild, my dear Ferdinand, do not be too wild at least. Young blood
must have its way; but be cautious; now, do; be cautious, my dear child.
Do not get into any scrapes; at least, do not get into any serious
scrapes; and whatever happens to you,' and here his lordship assumed
even a solemn tone, 'remember you have friends; remember, my dear
boy, you have a grandfather, and that you, my dear Ferdinand, are his
favourite grandson.'

This passing visit to Grandison rather rallied the spirits of our
travellers. When they arrived at Falmouth, they found, however, that the
packet, which waited for government despatches, was not yet to sail. Sir
Ratcliffe scarcely knew whether he ought to grieve or to rejoice at the
reprieve; but he determined to be gay. So Ferdinand and himself passed
their mornings in visiting the mines, Pendennis Castle, and the other
lions of the neighbourhood; and returned in the evening to their
cheerful hotel, with good appetites for their agreeable banquet, the
mutton of Dartmoor and the cream of Devon.

At length, however, the hour of separation approached; a message
awaited them at the inn, on their return from one of their rambles, that
Ferdinand must be on board at an early hour on the morrow. That evening
the conversation between Sir Ratcliffe and his son was of a graver
nature than they usually indulged in. He spoke to him in confidence
of his affairs. Dark hints, indeed, had before reached Ferdinand; nor,
although his parents had ever spared his feelings, could his intelligent
mind have altogether refrained from guessing much that had never
been formally communicated. Yet the truth was worse even than he had
anticipated. Ferdinand, however, was young and sanguine. He encouraged
his father with his hopes, and supported him by his sympathy. He
expressed to Sir Ratcliffe his confidence that the generosity of his
grandfather would prevent him at present from becoming a burden to
his own parent, and he inwardly resolved that no possible circumstance
should ever induce him to abuse the benevolence of Sir Ratcliffe.

The moment of separation arrived. Sir Ratcliffe pressed to his bosom his
only, his loving, and his beloved child. He poured over Ferdinand the
deepest, t