Amelia withdrew her attention, or at least her eyes, from the paper, and had recourse to the beech-tree, the beautiful foliage of which she studied with profound attention. “God bless me! here’s news! news of the fleet!” cried Beaumont, turning suddenly to his sister; and then recollecting himself, to his mother. “Ma’am, they say there has been a great engagement between the French and Spaniards, and the English--particulars not known yet: but, they say, ten sail of the French line are taken, and four Spaniards blown up, and six Spanish men-of-war disabled, and a treasure-ship taken. Walsingham must have been in the engagement--My horse!--I’ll gallop over this minute, and know from the Walsinghams if they have seen the papers, and if there’s any thing more about it in their papers.” “Gallop! my dearest Edward,” said his mother, standing in his path; “but you don’t consider Mr. Palmer--” “Damn Mr. Palmer! I beg your pardon, mother--I mean no harm to the old gentleman--friend of my father’s--great respect for him--I’ll be back by dinner-time, back ready to receive him--he can’t be here till six--only five by me, now! Ma’am, I shall have more than time to dress, too, cool as a cucumber, ready to receive the good old fellow.” “In one short hour, my dear!--seven miles to Walsingham House, and seven back again, and all the time you will waste there, and to dress too--only consider!” “I do consider, ma’am; and have considered every thing in the world. My horse will carry me there and back in fifty minutes, easily, and five to spare, I’ll be bound. I sha’n’t light--so where’s the paper? I’m off.” “Well--order your horse, and leave me the paper, at least, while he is getting ready. Ride by this way, and you will find us here--where is this famous paragraph?” Beaumont drew the paper crumpled from the pocket into which he had thrust it--ran off for his horse, and quickly returned mounted. “Give me the paper, good friends!--I’m off.”