"But probably your beard and moustache may contribute to that change; and doubtless, in the village where you lived, there would be many with whom you were in sufficient intercourse, and on whose recollection, by recalling little anecdotes and circumstances with which no one but yourself could be acquainted, your features would force themselves along with the moral conviction that the man who spoke to them could be no other but Philip Morton--or rather Beaufort." "You are right; there must be many such. There was not a cottage in the place where I and my dogs were not familiar and half domesticated." "All's right, so far, then. But I repeat, we must not be too sanguine. Law is not justice--" "But God is," said Philip; and he left the room. CHAPTER V. "_Volpone_. A little in a mist, but not dejected; Never--but still myself." BEN JONSON: _Volpone_. "_Peregrine_. Am I enough disguised? _Mer_. Ay. I warrant you. _Per_. Save you, fair lady."--Ibid. It is an ill wind that blows nobody good. The ill wind that had blown gout to Lord Lilburne had blown Lord Lilburne away from the injury he had meditated against what he called "the object of his attachment." How completely and entirely, indeed, the state of Lord Lilburne's feelings depended on the state of his health, may be seen in the answer he gave to his valet, when, the morning after the first attack of the gout, that worthy person, by way of cheering his master, proposed to ascertain something as to the movements of one with whom Lord Lilburne professed to be so violently in love,--"Confound you, Dykeman!" exclaimed the invalid,--"why do you trouble me about women when I'm in this condition? I don't care if they were all at the bottom of the sea! Reach me the colchicum! I must keep my mind calm."