"Why?" said I, evading the question. "His character is not affected by a propensity so common, unless, indeed, you suppose him to be more a gambler than a gamester, viz. more acute than unlucky." God forbid that I should say any such thing," replied Thornton; "you won't catch an old lawyer in such imprudence." "The greater the truth, the greater the libel," said Warburton, with a sneer. "No," resumed Thornton, "I know nothing against Mr. Tyrrell--nothing! He may be a very good man, and I believe he is; but as a friend, Mr. Pelham, (and Mr. Thornton grew quite affectionate), I advise you to have as little as possible to do with that sort of people." "Truly," said I, "you have now excited my curiosity. Nothing, you know, is half so inviting as mystery." Thornton looked as if he had expected a very different reply; and Warburton said, in an abrupt tone--"Whoever enters an unknown road in a fog may easily lose himself." "True," said I; "but that very chance is more agreeable than a road where one knows every tree! Danger and novelty are more to my taste than safety and sameness. Besides, as I never gamble myself, I can lose nothing by an acquaintance with those who do." Another pause ensued--and, finding I had got all from Mr. Thornton and his uncourteous guest that I was likely to do, I took my hat and my departure. "I do not know," thought I, "whether I have profited much by this visit. Let me consider. In the first place, I have not ascertained why I was put off by Mr. Thornton--for as to his excuse, it could only have availed one day, and had he been anxious for my acquaintance, he would have named another. I have, however, discovered, first, that he does not wish me to form any connection with Tyrrell; secondly, from Warburton's sarcasm, and his glance of reply, that there is but little friendship between those two, whatever be the intimacy; and, thirdly, that Warburton, from his dorsal positions, so studiously preserved, either wished to be uncivil or unnoticed." The latter, after all, was the most probable; and, upon the whole, I felt more than ever convinced that he was the person I suspected him to be. CHAPTER XXVI. Tell how the fates my giddy course did guide, The inconstant turns of every changing hour. --Pierce Gaveston, by M. Drayton. Je me retire donc.--Adieu, Paris, adieu! --Boileau. When I returned home, I found on my table the following letter from my mother: "My dear Henry, "I am rejoiced to hear you are so well entertained at Paris--that you have been so often to the D--s and C--s; that Coulon says you are his best pupil--that your favourite horse is so much admired--and that you have only exceeded your allowance by a L1,000; with some difficulty I have persuaded your uncle to transmit you an order for L1,500, which will, I trust, make up all your deficiencies.