Now, though he had, as we have observed above, some faint recollection of having heard something of old Mr. Martindale’s voyage to Genoa in search of some individual or other, who, for aught he knew to the contrary, might be a claimant, but he could not see how property in England should be claimed by a native Italian, as Colonel Rivolta clearly was. Very little information, therefore, did he acquire, and no satisfaction could he gain by this visit to the cottage. In spite, however, of all his feeling of dignity and propriety, he felt an irresistible propensity to call on Mr. Denver, who, as a public intelligencer, was certainly one of the most able men in the town of Brigland. The very polite and exquisitely courteous manner in which the reverend perpetual curate received the tenant of the Abbey, was not at all indicative of falling fortunes or painful change of circumstance. Low as usual did he bow, graciously as ever did he smile. Courtesy and politeness, however, were essential and component parts of Mr. Denver’s constitution. We cannot say quite so much of the Hon. Philip Martindale; for his style of address was abrupt, and his manners very unceremonious; and so far was he from endeavouring to correct this habit, that he was in a measure absolutely proud of it. Receiving Mr. Denver’s homage as due to his own exalted rank and dignified character, he began his inquiries by lamenting the death of poor Richard Smith, and expressing a hope that the poor man had had proper medical assistance in his illness. To all this a satisfactory answer was given, accompanied, as was very suitable and regular, with a compliment to Mr. Philip’s very great kindness and condescension. The inquirer then proceeded to throw out an intimation, that it would be very agreeable to him to be informed as to who and what the stranger was, who had recently taken up his abode at the old man’s cottage. As far as Mr. Denver knew, he informed Mr. Philip; telling him also the particulars of the interview at Mr. John Martindale’s residence, as we have already narrated it. For we will do Mr. Denver the justice to say of him, that although he was now and then unconsciously guilty of circulating an incorrect narrative, he was never deliberately and wilfully guilty of fabricating one. Whatever he himself had seen and heard, he told, according to the best of his ability, as he saw and heard it. But if, as it sometimes happened, he heard Mrs. Denver, Mrs. Price, and Mrs. Flint, all talking together, and telling in one voice him and one another the same story, but with diversified embellishment and frequent mutual contradiction, many interruptions, and various repetitions and emendations; then, poor man, he was certainly to be forgiven, if his second-hand repetition of such story should not be altogether coherent in its parts, lucid in its arrangement, or exquisitely veracious in every particular. Nor should we severely condemn him, if, with a