"Well, I don't know what its name is," retorted the boy; "but I know it tasted like drinking gingerbread--hot and sweet--and a very nice taste besides." "Dutch Cinnamon, I'll warrant," said Sir John Newark, laughing, and seating himself. "We are not very much accustomed to such things in my house. So he might well not know what it was. I have almost forgotten the taste of it; but I know it is very good; and I do not at all object, sir, to try your store." Now, be it known to the reader that, at that period of history, the greater part of the English nation had became afflicted with a disease from which they are not altogether free even yet, although a great physician has lately been amongst them, undertaking its especial cure. The disease I mean is, dram-drinking, which, for some time, affected not only the lower but many of the higher classes. So that there was nothing at all extraordinary in Sir John Newark consenting to drink a glass of very strong spirit even before he had dined. But that worthy gentleman was not without his own particular motives in anything he did, and frequently covered, or attempted to cover, them by an air of frank and straightforward affability. At present, indeed, he seemed to have no thought but of Van Noost's good liquor, watching him as he brought from the corner-cupboard both the long-necked bottle I have before mentioned, and an exceedingly thin wine-glass, with a tall stalk lightly cut and gilt. "It pours out like cream," observed Sir John, as his host held the neck of the bottle over the glass. "Ay, this is none of your poisonous drugs such as they sell at the chandlers' shops and the barbers', made out of the lees of old wine, or damaged sugar," replied Van Noost, still pouring; "none of your aqua mirabilis, or aqua salts, or plague-water, or colic-water, but genuine Dutch Cinnamon, imported by my good father in his own sea-stock. Take it, Sir John. I am sure it will do your heart good." Sir John drank, and praised, and drank again; and then, turning to Smeaton, who was speaking with his son, he said-- "You are hard drinkers on the Continent, I believe, Colonel Smeaton, and would beat us Englishmen at a match any day." "Not in the countries where I have principally resided," returned Smeaton. "I mean Spain, and some of the Austrian States. I have heard, indeed, of certain fearful orgies amongst the French officers in Spain; but I know little of France or Frenchmen, having merely passed through the country once or twice, and that very rapidly." "Did you ever chance in your travels to meet with a gentleman named Somerville--Richard Somerville?" asked Sir John Newark, in a careless tone. Smeaton shook his head, replying-- "No, I never did. In what country is he residing?"