“Upon my honour,” he observed, as I ended, “a perilous adventure; and, faith, the scoundrels gave you coarse usage. I know the scene of your flight; a rough road to gallop over, and the broken bridge, too--did your horse carry you across that ugly chasm?” “Took it in stroke, and never touched it with a toe. But for the villains with the rope, I should have had the race hollow.” “Ay--these, ‘misbegotten knaves,’ as Jack Falstaff would call them, they ended the affair effectually. Egad--the rope was an excellent contrivance to dismount a cavalier. But you must have had a severe fall? Are you bruised?--are you injured?” “Not much, I fancy--although I do feel sore and stiff about the back and shoulders.” “It must be examined. I shall be leech for the nonce; and I am not a bad surgeon. Come, let us finish the flask, and then I will show you to a chamber.” The time-piece on the chimney-piece chimed three quarters, the wine disappeared, I rose to retire; when my host took up a chamber-lamp and led the way. Proceeding along a narrow gallery, we entered an apartment at its extremity. Mr. Hartley lighted the candles. “These are your quarters,” said he. “Here make yourself at home, and I will return in a few minutes and pronounce upon your bruises.” Nothing could surpass the neatness of my dormitory. The curtains and bed furniture were chintz, with drawers, cabinets, and wardrobes, all of Indian workmanship. A glorious fire of bog-deal was blazing in the grate, and on the table I remarked a dressing-case, with every thing requisite even for the toilet of a man of fashion--while a morning gown, slippers, and change of linen, were in process of airing for my service. But other objects caught my eye. Over the chimney-piece hung a curious collection of fire-arms; and beside them, some splendid sabres were suspended. Some were of foreign shape, and richly ornamented with gold and silver mounting; others, made by English artists, were distinguished from the rest by their exquisite finish and simplicity, while not a few bore semblance of great antiquity, and seemed retained rather as objects of curiosity than use. On his return, Mr. Hartley found me admiring his armoury; but I neither hazarded a remark nor dared to ask a question. The lesson I had recently received would last me for awhile; and had a ghost and goule been sitting in the corner, _tête-à-tête_, I should have scarcely ventured to inquire “What the devil brought them there?” “There are some handsome weapons in that collection?” said the host. “They appear most valuable,” I replied. “I am not a judge of foreign arms; but I see some English guns of beautiful workmanship.” Mr. Hartley passed these lightly by; but taking down a sabre and pistols, he examined them with marked attention. The latter he replaced, but retained the sabre in his hand.