“The Cacique is a man of discretion,” observed the captain, with all his usual dryness of manner, “and will, doubtless, recollect his obligations to posterity and himself, though he be found entangled in the mazes of a combat. But I marvel that he does not return, for some time has now elapsed since the schooner struck her flag, as my own eyes have witnessed.” “You will pardon me, gentlemen,” said Griffith, advancing towards them with uncontrollable interest; “but I have unavoidably heard part of your discourse, and cannot think you will find it necessary to withhold the whole truth from a disarmed captive: say you that a schooner has been captured this morning?” “It is assuredly true,” said Borroughcliffe, with a display of nature and delicacy in his manner that did his heart infinite credit; “but I forbore to tell you, because I thought your own misfortunes would be enough for one time. Mr. Griffith, this gentleman is Colonel Howard, to whose hospitality you will be indebted for some favors before we separate.” “Griffith!” echoed the colonel, in quick reply, “Griffith! what a sight for my old eyes to witness!--the child of worthy, gallant, loyal Hugh Griffith a captive, and taken in arms against his prince! Young man, young man, what would thy honest father, what would his bosom friend, my own poor brother Harry, have said, had it pleased God that they had survived to witness this burning shame and lasting stigma on thy respectable name?” “Had my father lived, he would now have been upholding the independence of his native land,” said the young man, proudly. “I wish to respect even the prejudices of Colonel Howard, and beg he will forbear urging a subject on which I fear we never shall agree.” “Never, while thou art to be found in the ranks of rebellion!” cried the colonel. “Oh! boy! boy! how I could have loved and cherished thee, if the skill and knowledge obtained in the service of thy prince were now devoted to the maintenance of his unalienable rights! I loved thy father, worthy Hugh, even as I loved my own brother Harry.” “And his son should still be dear to you,” interrupted Griffith, taking the reluctant hand of the colonel into both his own. “Ah, Edward, Edward!” continued the softened veteran, “how many of my day-dreams have been destroyed by thy perversity! nay, I know not that Kit, discreet and loyal as he is, could have found such a favor in my eyes as thyself; there is a cast of thy father in that face and smile, Ned, that might have won me to anything short of treason--and then Cicely, provoking, tender, mutinous, kind affectionate, good Cicely, would have been a link to unite us forever.” The youth cast a hasty glance at the deliberate Borroughcliffe, who, if he had obeyed the impatient expression of his eye, would have followed the party that was slowly bearing the wounded towards the abbey, before he yielded to his feelings, and answered: