"Yes, sir, very," replied mine host, "and strange things have happened since. You knew General Travis, sir, I believe?" "I have seen him in Bath; what of him?" "Dreadful affair that of his. The whole family have vanished." "Vanished!" "Yes, sir. Three or four days ago the general's lady vanished with the youngest daughter; this morning the eldest daughter vanished by herself; and an hour or two afterwards, the general vanished with his own man, having previously discharged every other servant in the establishment." "Is any reason assigned?" "Debt, they tell me. The family have gone abroad to recover themselves; and, whilst they are recovering themselves, scores here will be ruined. The house has been beset with creditors this afternoon, and one poor fellow in the next street, a working upholsterer, with a family of ten children, has been raving at the doors like a madman." "You are mistaken," I said; "the general has not vanished after the manner you describe. To-morrow every thing will be explained. I do not feel myself at liberty to say more now. Let me entreat you, however, to remove the absurd impression that has been made; and, above all, to dispel the unfounded apprehensions of the unfortunate man you speak of." "Glad to hear you say so," rejoined mine host; "but I doubt it." He left me and I sallied forth; first to Mrs Twisleton's, who at first was not at home, but, receiving my card, sent her servant running half a mile, to assure me that she was. Poor Mrs Twisleton! sad and lugubrious was she on that melancholy evening. Faithful visions of the unappeasable wrath of the proud Lord Railton flickered before her eyes, and pierced her very soul. The next advowson was no advowson at all, as far as she was concerned, and her hope and offspring were alike cut off by the terrible and irrevocable act of the morning. I found the lady in tears. "This is a shocking business, madam!" I began. It was the signal for a flood. "When did you arrive?" she sobbed. "An hour since." "And you have heard of it?" "Of the elope"---- "Oh, don't, don't, don't speak of it!" shrieked the lady. "It turns me sick. He has married a beggar--the daughter of an impostor and a swindler." "Can it be true?" "Oh, you have been very dilatory and foolish, Mr Wilson," suddenly exclaimed Mrs Twisleton in a clear sharp tone, which had nothing of the softness of tears about it. "Had I been a man, I would have saved my friend from certain infamy. Mr Wilson, I gave you full warning--ample time. You cannot deny it." I sighed. "And now you have come to Bath again, what do you mean to do?" I thought for a second or two, and then sighed again. "Take my advice, sir; it's a woman's, but not the worse for that. If you stay here till doomsday, you can't alter what is unalterable. The fool's married by this time. The general has broken up his establishment and has decamped!" "Impossible!"