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eagerly grasped by Edward, who then confided to Chaloner the history of his life. When he had concluded, Chaloner said—
"We all heard of the firing of Arnwood, and it is at this moment believed that all the children perished. It is one of the tales of woe that our nurses repeat to the children, and many a child has wept at your supposed deaths. But tell me, now, had you not fallen in with me, was it your intention to have joined the army under your assumed name of Armitage?"
"I hardly know what I intended to do. I wanted a friend to advise me."
"And you have found one, Beverley. I owe my life to you, and I will repay the debt as far as is in my power. You must not conceal your name to your Sovereign; the very name of Beverley is a passport, but the son of Colonel Beverley will be indeed welcomed. Why, the very name will be considered as a harbinger of good fortune. Your father was the best and truest soldier that ever drew sword; and his memory stands unrivalled for loyalty and devotion. We are near to the end of our journey; yonder is the steeple of Bolton church. The old ladies will be out of their wits when they find that they have a Beverley under their roof."
Edward was much delighted at this tribute paid to his father's memory; and the tears more than once started into his eyes as Chaloner renewed his praise.
Late in the evening they arrived at Portlake, a grand old mansion, situated in a park crowded with fine old timber. Chaloner was recognised, as they rode up the avenue, by one of the keepers, who hastened forward to announce his arrival; and the domestics had opened the door for them before they arrived at it. In the hall they were met by the old ladies, who expressed their delight at seeing their nephew, as they had had great fear that something had happened to him.
"And something did very nearly happen to me," replied Chaloner, "had it not been for the timely assistance of my friend
