If it were not so strange to say, and if we could by any means discover the process by which the mind could arrive at such a result, we should declare, that, in the midst of all these dangers, troubles, and uncomforts of a different kind, Beauchamp had found a new store of hope. How, or why, who can tell? but either his hope was like the limbs of the skeleton in the Fantocini, which, after being all disjointed, are suddenly pulled together again by strings that no one can see; or else it was like a fire of dry wood, which, when it has appeared for some time quite extinguished, will pour out a small white flame, when nobody is expecting any such thing, and soon be as bright again as ever. At all events, he had left Emberton that very morning without a spark of hope apparently left; and after going through as much as would have contented him with adventures for the whole of his life, he could not help thinking that there was something very strange and unaccountable in Blanche Delaware's whole conduct, and that, if he could but get the key, all might still go well. Nevertheless, he was not left long to cogitate upon anything; for, in a minute or two, the smuggler and the smuggler's wife walked in, in the character of surgeon and assistant; and, after some awkward explanations of their purpose, demanded to look at the gentleman's leg, to see if they could help him. As he knew that it was predetermined not to send for a surgeon, Beauchamp, who was not disposed to make people look foolish unnecessarily, did not, as he once intended, propose that expedient. "You may look at my leg as much as you like, my good people," he said; "but I have not the slightest intention of letting you do anything to it, unless what you propose agrees with my own opinion." This being settled, the woman knelt down, and the man held the candle, and the stocking being withdrawn, an examination and mumbled consultation of some length took place. "It's not broken, sir, do you see!" said the old man, looking up. "It's only the small bone put out, do you see!" "I see nothing at all, my good fellow," replied Beauchamp, "except that it is very painful; and, of course, the more you pinch it the worse it is."