"I was strolling this way, madam." "Come here; I want you to tell me the truth; indeed, it is useless to attempt to deceive me. Is that person your uncle?" "No, miss, he is not." "I knew that. Is he not the person who wrote the letter, and a gentleman in disguise? Answer me that question, and then I have a message to him which will make him happy." "He is a gentleman, miss." "And his name is Spikeman, is it not?" "Yes, miss, it is." "Will he be here this evening? This is no time for trifling." "If you want him, miss, I am sure he will." "Tell him to be sure and come, and not in disguise," said Melissa, bursting into tears. "That's no use, my die is cast," continued she, talking to herself. Joey remained by her side until she removed her hands from her face. "Why do you wait?" "At what hour, miss, shall he come?" said Joey. "As soon as it is dusk. Leave me, boy, and do not forget." Joey hastened to Spikeman, and narrated what he had seen and heard, with the message of Melissa. "My dear boy, you have helped me to happiness," said Spikeman. "She shed tears, did she? Poor thing! I trust they will be the last she shall shed. I must be off to Cobhurst at once. Meet me at dark at the copse, for I shall want to speak to you." Spikeman set off for the town as fast as he could, with his bundle on his head. When half way he went into a field and changed his clothes, discarding his tinker's dress for ever, throwing it into a ditch for the benefit of the finder. He then went into the town to his rooms, dressed himself in a fashionable suit, arranged his portmanteau, and ordered a chaise to be ready at the door at a certain time, so as to arrive at the village before dusk. After he had passed through the village, he ordered the postboy to stop about fifty yards on the other side of the copse, and getting out desired him to remain till he returned. Joey was already there, and soon afterwards Miss M made her appearance, coming down the walk in a hurried manner, in her shawl and bonnet. As soon as she gained the bench, Spikeman was at her feet; he told her he knew what had passed between her and her cousin; that he could not, would not part with her--he now came without disguise to repeat what he had so often said to her, that he loved and adored her, and that his life should be devoted to make her happy. Melissa wept, entreated, refused, and half consented; Spikeman led her away from the bench towards the road, she still refusing, yet still advancing, until they came to the door of the chaise. Joey let down the steps; Melissa, half fainting and half resisting, was put in; Spikeman followed, and the door was closed by Joey. "Stop a moment, boy," said Spikeman. "Here, Joey, take this." As Spikeman put a packet into our hero's hand, Melissa clasped her hands and cried, "Yes--yes! stop, do stop, and let me out; I cannot go, indeed I cannot." "There's lights coming down the gravel walk," said Joey; "they are running fast."