The eyes of the cavalier filled with tears as they fell on this expressive memorial, yet there was mingled with his grief, in the contraction of his arched brow, more than a shade of anger. But it speedily subsided, and with a quick step, he passed by the two or three graves that intervened, and, advancing to the one indicated, he threw himself on the turf before the grave-post, and buried his face in his hands. Several minutes transpired before he looked up; and his face, though still impressed with an air of dejection, was then more composed, and his eyes less clouded. Casting a glance around, he perceived that, though his impression had been otherwise, he was not the only inmate of the churchyard, as a man stood on the path before him who shared in the possession. He was of the middle degree of stature, stoutly built, and apparently, to judge from his already grizzled hair, about forty years of age. His countenance might in early life have been prepossessing; but either from care or dissipation, or perhaps from both, it was now haggard and stern, and calculated more to excite suspicion, than to command respect. There was, too, an unnatural brilliancy in his eye, which, taken in connection with his shaggy brows, and long and neglected locks, that peeped out from the brim of his slouched hat, imparted to his looks an excessive wildness, very far from being becoming. The impressions created by these causes were confirmed, to a certain extent, by his attire, which was slovenly and mean, and betokened no less an acquaintance with poverty, than a habit of neglecting and contemning the most essential duties of the toilet. Directly this person, on his turning round from the grave, incurred his notice, our young cavalier sprang to his feet, and, with some degree of chagrin, prepared to retire from the churchyard. Before he could carry his design into effect, however, or had even taken a single step towards its execution, the intruder interposed, and, by a few brief words, made him pause. “What ho! Master Hildebrand, is it thou I have been dogging so close?” he said. The cavalier, though evidently taken somewhat aback, turned a glance of earnest inquiry on the speaker, and, after a moment’s pause, replied--“Thou knowest me?” “’Tis more than ten years since I last saw thee,” answered the other, “and thou hadst then, if I mind me truly, scarcely seen thy fourteenth summer, and yet I remember thee right well.” “By my troth, thy face strikes me familiarly,” resumed the cavalier; “but I need hardly go back so far, methinks, to call it to my remembrance. Thou mayst thank thy horse that he showed me good heels last night, or thou wouldst now, mayhap, have been less at thine ease than thou seemest to be.”