This, Barbara instinctively knew. Hence her frank cordiality of friendship. “Good, then! we are both well pleased,” she said, laughing and extending her hand. The preliminaries of the passage were then settled, and Lord Montressor seeing that the girl was excessively busy in superintending the taking in and stowing away of the freight, bade adieu, and returned to his hotel. And the third morning from this, being the twentieth of November, and a fine day, the Petrel, having on board Lord Montressor and his attendants, set sail for Liverpool. CHAPTER XXV. THE GLORIOUS UNCERTAINTY OF THE LAW. “There was on both sides much to say, They’d hear the cause another day. And so they did, and then a third They heard it, and so kept their word. But with demurrers and replies, Long bills and answers filled with lies, Delay, imparlance, and assoign, The judges ne’er could issue join; For many years the cause was spun, And then stood where it first begun.”—_Dean Swift._ As all the readers of this true history may not acknowledge the same grand passion for the sea, possessed by Barbara Brande and her present biographer, I will spare them the description of the voyage to Liverpool, merely saying, by the way, that the passage was pleasant, quick, and prosperous. And that in five weeks from the day of sailing, the Petrel, on the twenty-fourth of December, Christmas eve, cast her anchor in the harbor of Liverpool. A flood of business immediately overwhelmed Barbara. Lord Montressor took leave of Miss Brande, and promising to see her soon again, he left the vessel, took a cab, drove to the Metropolitan Railway Depot threw himself on board the first train of cars, and steamed away to London, where he arrived early the same evening. He directed his servants to convey his baggage to Gerard’s Hall, Aleyn’s Lane, then entered a carriage, and drove immediately to the bachelor establishment of Baron Dazzleright, in Berkely Square. He was very fortunate in finding Lord Dazzleright at home. He sent up his card and was shown into the library, where, in a very few minutes, he was joined by the advocate. Lord Dazzleright advanced, eagerly extending both hands, and saying—not only with his tongue, but with his eyes, his smile, and his whole attitude and expression— “Good Heaven! my dear fellow, I am so glad to see you!” And he grasped his lordship’s hand and squeezed it, and without waiting for him to speak, asked, hurriedly— “What was the last news you received from England, previous to setting out on your return?” “News? None, except through the public prints. I have not had a letter from England since I left her shores.” “Why, how was that? We wrote frequently, anxiously.”