A thought now occurred to Woodward with reference to himself. He saw that his guide, after having pointed out his father's house to him, was still keeping him company. “Perhaps you are coming out of your way,” said he; “you have been good enough to show me Mr. Lindsay's residence, and I have no further occasion for your services. I thank you: take this and drink my health;”,and as he spoke he offered him some silver. “Many thanks, sir,” replied the man, in a far different tone of voice, “many thanks; but I never resave or take payment for an act of civility, especially from any gentleman on his way to the family of Mr. Lindsay. And now, sir, I will tell you honestly and openly that there is not a better gentleman alive this day than he is. Himself, his son, and daughter* are loved and honored by all that know them; and woe betide the man that 'ud dare to crock (crook) his finger at one of them.” * His daughter Jane was with a relation in England, and does not appear in this romance. “You seem to know them very well.” “I have a good right, sir, seein' that I have been in the family ever since I was a gorson.” “And is Mrs. Lindsay as popular as her husband?” “She is his wife, sir--the mother of his children, and my misthress; afther that you may judge for yourself.” “Of course, then, you are aware that they have a son abroad.” “I am, sir, and a fine young man they say he is. Nothing vexes them so much as that he won't come to see them. He's never off their tongue; and if he's aquil to what they say of him, upon my credit the sun needn't take the trouble of shinin' on him.” “Have they any expectation of a visit from him, do you know'?” “Not that I hear, sir; but I know that nothing would rise the cockles of their hearts aquil to seein' him among them. Poor fellow! Mr. Hamilton's will was a bad business for him, as it was thought he'd have danced into the property. But then, they say, his other uncle will provide for him, especially as he took him from the family, by all accounts, on that condition.” This information--if information it could be called--was nothing more nor less than wormwood and gall to the gentleman on whose ears and into whose heart it fell. The consciousness of his present position--discarded by a kind uncle for dishonesty, and deprived, as he thought, by the caprice or mental imbecility, of another uncle, of a property amounting to upwards of twelve hundred per annum--sank upon his heart with a feeling which filled it with a deep and almost blasphemous resentment at every person concerned, which he could scarcely repress from the observation of his guide. “What is your name?” said he abruptly to him; and as he asked the question he fixed a glance upon him that startled his companion. The latter looked at him, and felt surprised at the fearful expression of his eye; in the meantime, we must say, that he had not an ounce of coward's flesh on his bones.