"No," replied Austin, recollecting himself; "I am not; one of those twinges from an old wound in the breast came on. I shall be better directly." Austin stopped his horse, and put his hand to his heart. His companion rode up, and remained near him. "It is worse than usual; I thought it was coming on last night; I fear that I must go home." "Shall I go with you?" "O, no; I must not spoil your sport. I am better now a great deal; it is going off fast. Come, let us proceed, or we shall be too late at cover." Austin had resolved to conquer his feelings. His friend had no suspicion, it is true; but when we are guilty we imagine that everybody suspects us. They rode a few minutes in silence. "Well I am glad that you did not go home," observed his friend; "for you will meet your new neighbour; he has subscribed to the pack, and they say he is well mounted; we shall see how he rides." Austin made no reply; but, after riding on a few yards farther, he pulled up, saying that the pain was coming on again, and that he could not proceed. His companion expressed his sorrow at Austin's indisposition, and they separated. Austin immediately returned home, dismounted his horse, and hastened to his private sitting-room. Mrs Austin, who had seen him return, and could not imagine the cause, went in to her husband. "What is the matter, my dear?" said Mrs Austin. "Matter!" replied Austin, bitterly, pacing up and down the room; "heaven and hell conspire against us!" "Dear Austin, don't talk in that way. What has happened?" "Something which will compel me, I expect, to remain a prisoner in my own house, or lead to something unpleasant. We must not stay here." Austin then threw himself down on the sofa, and was silent. At last the persuasions and endearments of his wife overcame his humour. He told her that McShane was the major of his regiment when he was a private; that he would inevitably recognise him; and that, if nothing else occurred from McShane's knowledge of his former name, at all events, the general supposition of his having been an officer in the army would be contradicted, and it would lower him in the estimation of the county gentlemen. "It is indeed a very annoying circumstance, my dear Austin; but are you sure that he would, after so long a period, recognise the private soldier in the gentleman of fortune?" "As sure as I sit here," replied Austin, gloomily; "I wish I were dead." "Don't say so, dear Austin, it makes me miserable." "I never am otherwise," replied Austin, clasping his hands. "God forgive me! I have sinned, but have I not been punished?" "You have, indeed; and as repentance is availing, my dear husband, you will receive God's mercy." "The greatest boon, the greatest mercy, would be death," replied the unhappy man; "I envy the pedlar." Mrs Austin wept. Her husband, irritated at tears which, to him, seemed to imply reproach, sternly ordered her to leave the room.