Morewick-hall, on the Coquet, belongs to me. But as my pastoral care was constantly required at Bamborough, or in this island, I had never resided on my inheritance. I now wished to make it the home of my niece, and her children, till they became of age. She gladly embraced my proposal. And the young Louis, though the indulged-plaything of the whole party, so far from expressing regret at leaving the castle, heard our arrangement with joy. This may appear more than natural in a boy hardly eleven years of age; but a little affair which took place at that time, will make his acquiescence very credible. "It was during the Christmas of the very year in which you met Duke Wharton at Paris, that he made his brilliant but baneful appearance at Bamborough. He took an immediate fancy to Louis; who was a fine spirited boy, full of enterprize and invincible good-humour. The Duke delighted in betting on his youthful talents, against the maturest acquirements in the castle. He exulted in the leaps he made him take on horseback; on the precision of his eye, in firing at a mark; and the dexterity with which he disarmed almost every man, but himself, in the practice of the foils. Even in this there was much to blame. But one evening, when Sir Anthony and the Duke were wearied of the rest of the company, and withdrawn to another room were sitting over their wine, a sudden whim seized their own half-tipsey fancies, to send Louis in masquerade to surprise the boisterous group below. Louis was summoned; and, innocent of their intention, hastened to his uncle. In the ardour of their frolic, they told him they meant to dress him in vine branches, and priming him with wine, introduce him as the festive god to the worship of the revellers in the dining-room. The natural good-sense of the boy started at the proposal; and he modestly refused to comply.--They persuaded, they flattered, they threatened; but in vain. Both resolutely, and with tears, he declared he would not, for his life, do any thing so wicked. Sir Anthony's passionate nature was in a blaze at this opposition. Mad with intoxication, he threw the helpless child on the floor, and holding him there, called on his profligate companion to give him the Burgundy. Wharton obeyed; and the inhuman uncle poured so great a quantity down the throat of his struggling victim, that the poor child was taken up insensible. He was carried to bed; and passed the remainder of the night in delirium and fever.