"Ephraim, is Mr Raymond to be trusted?" said I. "I am sure he is a good man, but he is a shocking Whig. And I do believe one of the queerest things in this queer world is the odd notions that men take of what it is their duty to do." "Have you found that out?" said he, looking much diverted. "I am always finding things out," I answered. "I had no idea there was so much to be found. But, don't you see, Mr Raymond might fancy it his duty to betray Colonel Keith? Is there no danger?" "Not the slightest," said Ephraim, warmly. "Mr Raymond would be much more likely to give up his own life. Don't you know, Cary, that Scripture forbids us to betray a fugitive? And all the noblest instincts of human nature forbid it too." "I know all one's feelings are against it," said I, "but I did not know that there was anything about it in the Bible." "Look in the twenty-third of Deuteronomy," replied Ephraim, "the fifteenth verse. The passage itself refers to a slave, but it must be equally applicable to a political fugitive." "I will look," I answered. "But tell me, Ephraim, can nothing be done for Angus?" "If it can, it will be done," he made answer. He said no more, but from his manner I could not but fancy that somebody was trying to do something. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ I never had two letters at once, by the same post, in my life: but this morning two came--one from Flora, and one from my Aunt Kezia. Flora's is not long: it says that she and Annas have reached the Isle of Wight in safety, and were but three hours a-crossing from Portsmouth; and she begs me, if I can obtain it, to send her some news of Angus. My Lady De Lannoy was extreme kind to them both, and Flora says she is very comfortable, and would be quite happy but for her anxiety about my Uncle Drummond and Angus. My Uncle Drummond has not writ once, and she is very fearful lest some ill have befallen him. My Aunt Kezia's letter is long, and full of good counsel, which I am glad to have, for I do find the world a worse place than I thought it, and yet not in the way I expected. She warns me to have a care lest my tongue get me into trouble; and that is one of the dangers I find, and did not look for. Father is well, and all other friends: and I am not to be surprised if I should hear of Sophy's marriage. Fanny gets on very well, and makes a better housekeeper than my Aunt Kezia expected. But I have spent much thought over the last passage of her letter, and I do not like it at all:--