"Ha! ha!" he interrupted me, joyfully as it seemed, "so the Marquis does recognise Gerald! 'Tis well, very well." And here he nodded as though pleased. "Gerald was ever my favourite. A dear lad!" "You knew him, sir?" "Knew him, madam!" he exclaimed; "knew him! Why, he was my tenderest care. I was his governor for some time, and watched over him as though he had been my son." At this moment Mungo brought in the refreshments which in Virginia are always offered to a caller, and the captain, seeing the various flasks of wine and the bottles, shook his head somewhat dubiously at them, saying he never drank till after the noon. Yet, upon persuasion, he was induced to try a little of the rum, which he pronounced to be excellent, and, doubtless, much relished by those who could stomach spirits, which he could rarely do. As for Mary and myself we were determined to gather as much information as we could from this gallant gentleman who knew the St. Amande family so well (never suspecting, until later, how much he was gathering from us), so we continued our questions to him, asking him among others if Lord Gerald, as we termed him, was handsome. "He was a most beautiful lad," said the captain, perceiving that our interests turned more to him than to his wretched cousin, "with exquisite features like his sweet mother, a much injured lady. But," changing the subject back again, "what has become of Roderick, for, in truth, I come more to seek after him than for aught else? His poor father has had no news of him now for some long time; not since he first arrived here and wrote home of all that had befallen him." This astonished us greatly, for we had always figured to ourselves, when talking the matter over, that Mr. St. Amande must have somehow made his way back to Ireland in safety. So we told Captain O'Rourke of our surprise at his information. "When he fled," I said, "he went first to an evil-living old man, our clergyman, now lying sick unto death from his debaucheries,"--the captain shook his head mournfully here--"who, however, beyond giving him a balsamic styptic for his ear would do no more, saying that he feared my father's wrath too much. Then we learnt afterwards that he went to the Pringle Manor, where he had become on terms of intimacy with the young men of the family, but they, on gathering what had happened, refused also to give him shelter, calling him vile and ungrateful. So he went forth and has never since been heard of, tho', indeed, sir, I do trust no ill has befallen him. Bad and wicked as he was, we would not have him fall into the hands of the Indians, as he might well have done." "The Indians, madam!" exclaimed the captain, while I thought he grew pale as he spoke. "The Indians! Would that be possible here?"