Ah my good friend, said the old man and sighed, that day is distant, and that chance is doubtful: in the meantime my all depends upon a single stake, and though your worthy son is he of all mankind, in whom I can repose the fullest trust, yet in the life of that beloved youth, on whom I rest my hopes, there is a period yet to pass full of alarm and danger. John has an ardent spirit, and I fear is much more likely to resent affronts than treat them with contempt. If this malicious Owen is to live amongst us, and persist in his unworthy practices, I can foresee the time must come, when my brave boy will bring him to account. Who can prevent it? not the donors of his horse; their handsome present may repair his loss, but will it make atonement for the insult he has received? What can I do? I am not the man to talk to him: young as he is, he has possessed himself of my sentiments, and I cannot retract what I have said. Talk to him yourself; you are a soldier, and upon a point of honour no man can speak with more authority: try if you can persuade him to think as you do. Were I to do that, my good sir, replied the colonel, I fear your grandson would not derive security of person from the rules of practice, that men of my profession are compelled to follow; but I can hold my tongue, and that is quite as much as I will undertake for in any case, where the honour of your family is brought into question. I love your gallant boy; every body loves him; but what I would not say to my own son, I could not say to him. I am however inclined to believe that Sir David Owen will in no future time find resolution to insult your grandson; but, if he does, I cannot find resolution to dissuade him from taking proper notice of it. Well! let it pass, resumed De Lancaster. My boy must take his fate. I had no right to look for other sentiments from you, and if they are, as I suspect, irreconcilable to reason and religion, we are both of us I fear in the same condemnation. * * * * *