"At liberty too; I handed her into their own calash, and saw them drive off with a pass of safe conduct. But, pretty trembler, if she is so excellent, I will make you her proxy, to give me the reward she refused to my services. I did but ask for the kiss of peace at our parting, when she drew back her head as if she were an empress, and stiffly answered, 'Sir, I am a Loyalist.'" This faithful description of aunt Mellicent's unswerving decorum diverted the young Evellins, and helped to dissipate Constantia's terrors. Her rapturous acknowledgements of the humane Barton largely repaid him for his services to her father. She listened to a circumstantial detail of the difficulties with which he had contended against the obstinacy and prejudices of the magistrates, to whom he had applied for a fresh passport; of the fortunate combination of circumstances which, had led to the pursuit and detection of the thieves, with the original instrument in their possession, and of their confession, commitment, and discovery of the place where they had deposited their booty. "I parted from your father," continued he, "with many affecting testimonies of mutual good-will, and I think aunt Mellicent, as you call her, would almost have smiled upon me, had not my vain heart indulged in too much joyous self-gratulation at the success of my endeavours, and thus brought on that just rebuke of my presumption. I did not ask your father to shew like mercy, whenever he should find one of us in like affliction, for his eyes told me that his conscience would be a better remembrancer than my tongue. I said, however, that I trusted we should meet in a world, where slight discrepancies of opinion would be no preventatives of friendship, though in this life they kindled the animosities which it was our misfortune to witness and deplore." "Sir," said he, pressing my hand, "let our contest be, who shall most truly serve God and our fellow-creatures, and then we may hope for that pardon, which ensures endless blessedness. On mercy the best of us must depend, though we too often withhold it from our fellow-sinners, by whose side we must one day kneel, and like them place all our confidence in boundless compassion." "O!" said Constantia, "had not my fears anticipated the fact, those sentiments would have convinced me you had met my father." "And when you next meet him," said Barton, "tell him that while there is a Carolus in my purse, he never shall feel penury." "Say," returned she; "shall I ever see him again?"--Barton checked a reply, which a momentary reflection whispered was too prompt, and answered, "I am not a wizard, or diviner of things to come; wait, and see what the morrow will bring forth." "'Tis impossible," replied Isabel, "to reach London to-morrow; but we might get to Oxford." "True," said Barton, with a grave air, "but since we now draw near the King's quarters, I must redouble my precautions, and I now recollect 'tis my duty to attend the council of officers."