CHAPTER X.
When Marmaduke Temple and his cousin rode through the gate of the former, the heart of the father had been too recently touched with the best feeling of our nature, to leave inclination for immediate discourse. There was an importance in the air of Richard, which would not have admitted of the ordinary informal conversation of the Sheriff, without violating all the rules of consistency; and the equestrians pursued their way with great diligence, for more than a mile, in profound silence. At length the soft expression of parental care, blended with affection, was slowly chased from the handsome features of the Judge, and was gradually supplanted by the cast of humour and benevolence that was usually seated on his brow.
"Well, Dickon," he said, "since I have yielded myself, so far, implicitly to your guidance, I think the moment has arrived, when I am entitled to further confidence. Why and wherefore are we journeying together in this solemn gait?"
The Sheriff gave a loud hem, that rung far in
