Colonel Evellin inquired what story. The remembrance of his son was ever present to his mind; but the indelible shame of his public disgrace had prevented him from alluding to him, or asking Jobson if he had ever met him during the campaign of 1645: and the deep feeling of affectionate grief prevented Jobson from naming the gallant youth to the good gentleman, who seemed, he thought, to want to have his spirits raised, and was too cast down to be diverted with melancholy stories. Jobson now begged the Colonel to satisfy his doubts whether it was right to make his benefactors unhappy. "As a friend of the family," said he, "and a wise man, I wish to consult you. They don't seem to know what is become of Mr. Eustace Evellin, had I better tell them or not?" Though long and intimately versed in the discipline of severest misery, Colonel Evellin was forced to turn away his face to conceal his paternal perturbation. "If," said he, "since the public rebuke of Lord Hopton, he has again disgraced his lineage, bury his shame in that oblivion which I hope now covers his body; but, if he lived long enough to redeem his honour, tell me his history." Jobson gazed with indignant surprise on his agitated companion. "If," answered he, "you had not fought as nobly as you have for the King, I would not bear to hear you talk about Mr. Eustace Evellin's redeeming his honour before he lost it. Why, it was all a mistake of the old Lord's when the cowards and traitors drove him distracted; and so he thought Mr. Eustace one of them, because now and then they tippled together. Aye, he has been sorry enough for it since: but Generals should be careful what they say, for Lord Hopton ruined one of the fairest young gentlemen that ever was born." The Colonel motioned with his hand that Jobson should proceed with his narrative. "Does Your Honour groan through pain?" inquired the latter; "let me lay you in an easier posture. Did you never hear how Mr. Eustace fought at Pendennis-Castle; when old John Arundel of Terrice thanked him before all the garrison?" "Thank heaven!" exclaimed Evellin, "that was a public honour!" "Tush! that was nothing," continued Jobson; "every soldier knew already what stuff Mr. Eustace was made of. Old John called him the hero of Lancashire. After the castle had surrendered, I went with him into Wales; and wherever there was a little fighting we were at it: and when there was none, we lived just as we could; for I did not care about Madge Jobson, and Mr. Eustace said he could not go home because his father had cursed him." "No, no, no," said Evellin; "he never cursed him." "I wish," cried Jobson, "the poor gentleman had known that; it might have saved his life." "Is he dead?" exclaimed the father, in an agony that lifted his debilitated frame from its recumbent posture. "Shot in cold blood after the taking of Pembroke-Castle." "By whose order?"