cheek bone, turning round, like an acanthus leaf, at the other extremity upon the cheek itself, was a long line of very minute blue spots, with another, and another, and another beneath it, till the whole assumed the appearance of a rather broad arabesque painted in blue upon his face. His dress in other respects (if this tattooing might be called a part of his dress) though coarse in texture was good. The whole, too, was black, except where the white turned-down collar of his shirt appeared between his coat and his pale brownish skin. His shoes were large and heavy like those used by the countrymen in that part of the county, and in them he wore a pair of silver buckles, not very large, but which in their peculiar form and ornaments, gave signs of considerable antiquity. Though bent, as we have said, thin, and pale, he seemed active and energetic. All his motions were quick and eager, and he grasped the hand which Osborn extended to him, with a warmth and enthusiasm very different from the ordinary expression of common friendship. "You mistake," said the young gentleman, in answer to his last observation. "It was not old memories and loved associations which brought me here at all, Mr. Warde. It was an order from the commander-in-chief. Had I not received it, I should not have visited this place for years--if ever!" "Yes, yes, you would," replied the old man; "you could not help yourself. It was written in the book of your fate. It was not to be avoided. You were drawn here by an irresistible impulse to undergo what you have to undergo, to perform that which is assigned you, and to do and suffer all those things which are written on high." "I wonder to hear _you_ speaking in terms so like those of a fatalist," answered Osborn--"you whom I have always heard so strenuously assert man's responsibility for all his actions, and scoff at the idea of his excusing himself on the plea of his predestination."