telling every thing, and asking nothing"
"The moment he found out, I say, that there was a lady in the case, and that you wanted to know the way to the barracks, he insisted on coming to show you the way himself—a civil young man."
"Oh, why did you speak to him?" exclaimed the lady, still hurrying on; "to him of all men? you have ruined me!"
"Me ruined you! That's going it a little too strong. I never ruined any body in my life. How did I know you knew the man? There's some awful mystery in this young woman," muttered Mr Clam, puffing like a broken-winded coach horse; "and if I live I'll find it out. There's nothing improves the mind, as Mrs M. says, so much as curiosity."
"Is it far to the barracks, sir?"
"This ain't the way, ma'am; you're making it further every minute; and, besides, you're running away from the young officer."
"I mustn't meet him, sir—do you hear me?—I must not be recognized."
"Well, ma'am," said Mr Clam, "there's no great harm done yet; I did every thing for the best—following the dictates of an unbiassed judgment, as Mrs M. says; and if I've brought you into a scrape, I'll get you out of it. Take my arm, ma'am, turn boldly round, and I'll soon set him about his business."
The lady did as she was told, and they retraced their steps. The young officer now approached, and touching his hat with an air of unspeakable elegance, and then swinging his cane, said, "You asked me, sir, to show the way to the barracks."
"Quite a mistake, sir," replied Mr Clam, drily; "we know the way perfectly well ourselves."
"It isn't far," pursued the officer; "and I shall be delighted to accompany you. Any thing that you, sir, or your beautiful companion, may require, I shall be happy to procure for you. Is there any one you wish to see at the barracks?"
This question was addressed to the lady, who drew back, and made no reply.
"If there's any body we want to see," said Mr Clam, "we'll ask for him; but we're in a hurry, sir. This lady travelled all the way from London expressly on purpose to"
But here a pinch in the arm prevented any further revelation, and made Mr Clam wince as if he had been stung by an adder.
"You needn't grip so hard," he said to his companion; "for its my solemn opinion you've taken the bit out. Let us go, sir," he continued, addressing the officer once more. "We don't need your assistance."
The young man looked surprised.
"Well, sir," he said, "it was entirely to do you a favour that I came."
"You'll do us a far greater if you'll go," replied Mr Clam, becoming boisterous and dignified, after the manner of a turkey-cock.
"Sir, I don't understand such language," said the officer.
"Then your education has been neglected, sir. It's English—plain, downright English. We have no desire for your society, sir.—Right about wheel—march."
"You are below my notice," said the young man, flushing up; "and your insolent vulgarity is, therefore, safe. At the same time, if the lady needs my assistance"
"She doesn't need your assistance—far from it—she told me she wished never to"
Another pinch, more powerful apparently than the former, from the writhing of the sufferer, interrupted once more the stream of his eloquence; and he was worked up into a tremendous passion, partly, perhaps, by the cool contempt of the young officer, and principally by the pain he suffered in his arm.
"You're an impudent fellow, sir," he said. "I don't care twopence for all the puppies that ever wore red coats, sir. My name is Nicholas Clam, Esq., No. 4, Waterloo Place, Wellington Road, Regent's Park, London; and I can shoot at a popinjay as well as another."
"You shall hear from me, sir," said the officer, biting his lips. "My name is Chatterton—Lieutenant Chatterton. Good day, sir."
He touched his hat proudly, and walked away.
"A good riddance, ma'am," said Mr Clam. "Them young chaps think to have it all their own way. I wish I had seen a policeman or a serjeant of
