“But to cut that matter short, Mr. Caleb,” said the Keeper, “perhaps you will favour me with a ewer of water.” “God forbid your lordship should drink water in this family,” replied Caleb, “to the disgrace of so honourable an house!” “Nevertheless, if his lordship have a fancy,” said the Master, smiling, “I think you might indulge him; for, if I mistake not, there has been water drank here at no distant date, and with good relish too.” “To be sure, if his lordship has a fancy,” said Caleb; and re-entering with a jug of pure element—“He will scarce find such water onywhere as is drawn frae the well at Wolf’s Crag; nevertheless——” “Nevertheless, we must leave the Lord Keeper to his repose in this poor chamber of ours,” said the Master of Ravenswood, interrupting his talkative domestic, who immediately turning to the doorway, with a profound reverence, prepared to usher his master from the secret chamber. But the Lord Keeper prevented his host’s departure.—“I have but one word to say to the Master of Ravenswood, Mr. Caleb, and I fancy he will excuse your waiting.” With a second reverence, lower than the former, Caleb withdrew; and his master stood motionless, expecting, with considerable embarrassment, what was to close the events of a day fraught with unexpected incidents. “Master of Ravenswood,” said Sir William Ashton, with some embarrassment, “I hope you understand the Christian law too well to suffer the sun to set upon your anger.” The Master blushed and replied, “He had no occasion that evening to exercise the duty enjoined upon him by his Christian faith.” “I should have thought otherwise,” said his guest, “considering the various subjects of dispute and litigation which have unhappily occurred more frequently than was desirable or necessary betwixt the late honourable lord, your father, and myself.” “I could wish, my lord,” said Ravenswood, agitated by suppressed emotion, “that reference to these circumstances should be made anywhere rather than under my father’s roof.” “I should have felt the delicacy of this appeal at another time,” said Sir William Ashton, “but now I must proceed with what I mean to say. I have suffered too much in my own mind, from the false delicacy which prevented my soliciting with earnestness, what indeed I frequently requested, a personal communing with your father: much distress of mind to him and to me might have been prevented.” “It is true,” said Ravenswood, after a moment’s reflection, “I have heard my father say your lordship had proposed a personal interview.”