'Look you,' cried Wilkinson, shaking his cane; 'dare to bring your bullies here, and if I don't cudgel their carcases out of shape, and your's into shape, may I be shot.' 'Secure his hands,' said the Doctor. Wilkinson instantly darted at the Doctor, and knocked him down. The servants collared Wilkinson, who called to Montmorenci for assistance; but in vain; and after a furious scuffle, the farmer was handcuffed. 'Dear uncle, calm these transports!' said his lordship. 'Your dutiful and affectionate nephew beseeches you to compose yourself.' 'Uncle!--nephew!' cried the farmer. 'What do you mean, fellow? Who the devil is this villain?' 'Are you so far gone, as not to know your own nephew?' said the Doctor, grinning with anger. 'Never set eyes on the poltron till an hour ago!' cried Wilkinson. 'Merciful powers!' exclaimed Montmorenci. 'And when I was a baby, he dandled me; and when I was a child, he gave me whippings and sugar-plums; and when I came to man's estate, he cherished me in his bosom, and was unto me as a father!' Here his lordship applied a handkerchief to his face. 'The man is crazed!' cried Wilkinson. 'No, dear uncle,' said Montmorenci, ''tis you who are crazed; and to be candid with you, this is a madhouse, and this gentleman is the mad-doctor, and with him you must now remain, till you recover from your complaint--the most afflicting instance of insanity, that, perhaps, was ever witnessed.' 'Insanity!' faltered the farmer, turning deadly pale. 'Mercy, mercy on my sinful soul, for I am a gone man!' 'Nay,' said his lordship, 'do not despair. The Doctor is the first in his profession, and will probably cure you in the course of a few years.' 'A few years? That bread and water business will dispatch me in a week! Mad? I mad? I vow to my conscience, Doctor, I was always reckoned the quietest, easiest, sweetest--sure every one knows honest Gregory Wilkinson. Don't they, Cherry? Dear child, answer for your father. Am I mad? Am I, Cherry?' 'As butter in May,' said Montmorenci. 'You lie like a thief!' vociferated the farmer, struggling and kicking. 'You lie, you sneering, hook-nosed reprobate!' 'Why, my dear uncle,' said Montmorenci, 'do you not recollect the night you began jumping like a grasshopper, and scolding the full-moon in my deer-park?' 'Your deer-park? I warrant you are not worth a cabbage-garden! But now I see through the whole plot. Ay, I am to be kept a prisoner here, while my daughter marries that old knave before my face. It would kill me, Cherry; I tell you I should die on the spot. Oh, my unfortunate girl, are you too conspiring against me? Are you, Cherry? Dear Cherry, speak. Only say you are not!' 'Indeed, my friend,' said I, 'you shall be treated with mildness. Doctor, I beg you will not act harshly towards him. With all his faults, the man is goodnatured and well tempered, and to do him justice, he has always used me kindly.'