your Lordship's favor,--in fact, let him believe me as friendless here as he saw me in India, and he will cease to speculate on persecuting me.” “There would be indignity in such a course, sir,” cried the Judge, fiercely; “the man has no terrors for _me_.” “Certainly not, my Lord, nor for me personally. I speak on my wife's behalf; it is for her sake and for her peace of mind I am alone thinking here.” “I will speak to her myself on this head.” “I entreat you not, my Lord. I implore you never to approach the subject. She has for years been torn between the terrible alternative of obeying the last injunctions of her father or yielding to the wishes of her husband. Her life has been a continual struggle, and her shattered health has been the consequence. No, my Lord; let us go down for a few weeks or months--as it may be--to this country place they have taken for us; a little quietness will do us both good. My leave will not expire till March; there is still time to look about me.” “Something shall be done for you, sir,” said the Judge, pompously. Sewell bowed low: he knew how to make his bow a very deep acknowledgment of gratitude; he knew the exact measure of deference and trustfulness and thankfulness to throw into his expression as he bent his head, while he seemed too much overpowered to speak. “Yes, sir, you shall be cared for,” said the old man. “And if this person, this Sir Brook Fossbrooke, return here, it is with _me_ he will have to deal,--not _you_.” “My Lord, I entreat you never to admit him; neither see nor correspond with him. The man is a desperado, and holds his own life too cheap to care for another's.” “Sir, you only pique my curiosity to meet with him. I have heard of such fellows, but never saw one.” “From all I have heard, my Lord, _your_ courage requires no proofs.” “You have heard the truth, sir. It has been tested in every way, and found without alloy. This man came here a few days ago to ask me to nominate my grandson to an office in my gift; but, save a lesson for his temerity, he 'took nothing by his motion.'” The old Judge walked up and down with short impatient steps, his eyebrows moving fiercely, And his mouth twitching angrily. “The Viceroy must be taught that it is not through such negotiators he can treat with men like myself. We hear much about the dignity of the Bench. I would that his Excellency should know that the respect for it is a homage to be rendered by the highest as well as the lowest, and that I for one will accept of nothing less than all the honors that befit my station.” Relieved, as it were, by this outburst of vanity, his heart unburdened of a load of self-conceit, the old man felt freer And better; and in the sigh he heaved there seemed a something that indicated a sense of alleviation. Then, turning to Sewell, with a softened voice, he said, “How grieved I am that you should have passed such a morning! It was certainly not what I had intended for you.”