No one need have wished for a worse character than that borne by Sir Peter Warrendale for a score miles round Whatton Ferris. His private life would not bear examination; as a landlord he was mean and close-fisted to a degree, and in his magisterial capacity he was never known to temper mercy with justice, but always to make a point of inflicting the maximum penalty allowed by law on any poor wretch who might have the misfortune to be haled before him. Notwithstanding his irascibility of temper and the bluster in which he indulged when in pursuit of his runaway niece, Sir Peter was an arrant poltroon at heart, and into such a fright did he fall when his chaise was stopped by the sham Colonel Delnay that, happening to have his snuff-box in his hand, he proffered it on the impulse of the moment, together with his purse, if only his life might be spared. The box was studded with brilliants, and Dare--for he was the "gentleman of the road"--being well aware of the mean and avaricious nature of the man, and how the loss of it would grieve him to the soul, took it, with the intention of returning it anonymously after the lapse of a few weeks. But when, about a month later, he caused certain inquiries to be made with a view to the restitution of the box, he found that Scrope Hall was shut up, and that Sir Peter and his family had taken their departure for Bath, and from thence were expected to go to town. Then, somewhat later, came the news that Scrope Hall was to let and that the baronet had taken up his permanent residence in London. It may here be noted that it was Captain Nightshade's invariable practice to limit his attentions to hard cash and bank-notes--to the purse of the well-to-do traveller by chaise or coach, and the plethoric money-bag of the wealthy landowner on its way to or from the local bank. Watches, snuff-boxes, rings, and other trinkets he put politely aside as "unconsidered trifles" with which he did not choose to concern himself. Dare at the time troubled himself no further about Sir Peter's snuff-box, but when he next went to London he took it with him, with the intention of ascertaining Sir Peter's address and forwarding it to him by a trusty messenger. But it was found that Sir Peter was on the Continent, and when Dare went back to the North the box went with him. Once more he had brought the box to town, hoping on this occasion to be able to rid himself of it. But before he had an opportunity of doing so, the news of Evan's abduction reached him, and he at once hurried off to Chelsea, and for the next two or three days his time and thoughts were taken up with far more important matters than the baronet's snuff-box. Meanwhile, with the carelessness, hardly removed from recklessness, that was characteristic of him, he carried the box about with him in his waistcoat pocket.