"Well, good bye, John. Write to us sometimes," said the Earl, giving him a pocket-book. "This has been a most unfortunate night; it will delay my marriage,--and get me into a jolly scrape, too." "Egad! I'm deuced sorry; but Ellen won't spoil for keeping a bit. Ha, the needful; I had forgotten that. Thanks--" "An' I was thinking you would aiblins no be sorry to hae a keg of the gude stuff," said old Andrew, handing a big-bellied flask of whisky. "Gude save us, Captain! yon was a grand shot--puir Sir Richard!" "Why, bless me, you are a better fellow than I thought, Andrew! Here, Scroop, you carry this flask; we shall be glad of it, I warrant. What a d--d night it is; the snow will be balling in our nags' feet, and leave a track for a blind man to follow. But we must be off. Good night, gentlemen. Come, Scroop, for God's sake be mounted and away, or we shall have the hounds on our scent!" The horsemen then spurred off, and were soon lost in the darkness. The guests returned into the hall, and went upstairs. When the Earl entered the drawing-room, Ellen drew him aside, and, in the mildest, gentlest manner, told him how sorry she was that this had occurred. "You are right, dearest. I am very sorry, but it is done now; it will delay our union, Ellen, for six weeks, and that will be punishment enough for me. I have your forgiveness, I hope?" "Ask God's forgiveness, not mine; for this has been a sad--sad evening." To tell the truth the Earl was little pleased at the part he had taken in it: but he had a hard part to play; brought up without the least religion he had only lately come to see the harm of duelling. Ellen's example was silently doing a world of good, and she saw it, so she said no more: those few words told more on him than a hundred sermons. The irreligious character of the Towers was well known; and the way in which this awful affair was treated will sufficiently show it, and our readers will see how difficult it was for the Earl to change his course all at once. He had laughed and joked on such occasions before, and he was not so changed yet that he was beyond the influence of the evil current. As he left Ellen, Frank entered the room, equipped for riding. "Why, De Vere, where the deuce are you off to?" said young Pringle. "I am going to Piershill--do you think I am going to sleep here to-night, with Sir Richard lying below?" "Oh, Frank," said Lady Florence, "I wish you had not put that into my head; I am quite nervous--I wish I did not sleep alone!" "Then you should make friends with his ghost, Floss!" said her brother, laughing. Without appearing to notice his remark, Lady Florence prevailed on Ellen to share her room that night. "I wouldn't be you, youngster," said Wilson to Johnny; "you are next cabin to him." "Oh, bother it!--Lord Wentworth, may he be moved?"