When he entered the library of Sir Francis, he found that worthy gentleman in his element, the two friendly justices having arrived, to one of whom he was laying down the law upon various matters of county jurisprudence, while the other was undergoing Mr. Driesen, for we know of no other way to express ourselves, seeing that that gentleman was operating upon him with the calm cruelty of a surgeon in large practice, or a professed torturer of the Inquisition, making use of a passage from Aristophanes as the rack, and enjoying the writhings of his victim when he insisted upon his giving his view of a long quotation, of which he neither understood nor could remember one single word. The unhappy man, it seems, had acquired a certain degree of reputation for learning in the county, by occasionally misquoting to his brother justices some of the Latin headings to the papers in the Rambler and Spectator; and Mr. Driesen, it would seem, had determined, from the first, to do justice upon him as soon as he could meet with him. He had, consequently, dragged him close up to Sir Francis and the other justice, and endeavoured, as far as possible, to call them from Sir Francis's discussion upon the law, to witness his infliction upon the worthy personage he was persecuting. No sooner did Charles appear than the poor man darted towards him for refuge, leaving Mr. Driesen grinning at him with triumph and contempt; but Sir Francis had also his word to say to his son, and immediately remarked, "Why, Charles, I should have supposed those enormous long legs of yours might have carried you to the manor-house and back somewhat more rapidly." "Under ordinary circumstances they would have done so," replied Charles Tyrrell, coolly: for all that had passed between him and Lucy, although it had left his mind in no slight state of agitation, had also left it in as placable a mood as it is possible to conceive. "I met with various little incidents on the road, sir," he added, with a smile, "none of them very disagreeable indeed, but which served to detain me. In the first place, I met Miss Effingham coming up here to console you and my mother for the absence of your affectionate son, who she fully believed had departed, not this life, but this house, on his journey to Oxford." "You are pleased to be facetious, sir," said his father, dryly. "Pray what was the next little incident? I suppose this was not a disagreeable one, certainly." "Of course not," replied Charles; and, as he had predetermined, he went on: "I had next to knock down a man dressed like a sailor, who had followed Miss Effingham into the park, and was insolent to her."