They drew up at the door of the colonel's residence, and were ushered into a room where he and a party of his friends sat. Peter, who was what people in the south would call a '_cute_ man, was beginning to make an apology, saying-- "I beg your pardon, colonel, for the liberty I have taken; but meeting with my old friend, Doctor Musgrave, yesterday, I prevailed on him to come out wi' me, as we were a' Cumberland folk together; and though he is a great man now----" But, while Peter spoke, one of the company started forward. He grasped our hero by the hand, and exclaimed-- "My deliverer! Long and anxiously have I sought for you; but, until this hour, nothing have I been able to learn respecting you. Father," he added, "this is the gentleman of whom a hundred times you have heard me speak, as having at the peril of his own life saved mine. I have never known or met him again until now. Thank him with me." And, as he spoke, he held the doctor's hand between his. The old man rose. He evidently laboured to speak to the stranger; but other feelings obtained the mastery. He stretched out his hand. He touched Robert Musgrave's--he coldly bowed to him. The blood left his face. "Father," exclaimed the son, "you are ill. Hath gratitude----" But he paused as he beheld the expression of his father's features. They betrayed anger and agony at the same moment. "Son," said he, "I would speak with you: that man--that man;" and he pointed to the scholar impatiently, and, beckoning to his son, rose to leave the room. "Sir," said Musgrave, proudly, "if my presence trouble you, I can withdraw." "My friend, what mean you?--what means my father?" asked the brother of Bertha, who was, indeed, the same individual that the scholar had rescued. "I dinna ken," answered Peter Liddle; "but, if Doctor Musgrave go the door, I go to the door too." The father and the son looked at each other. The glance of the latter sought from the former an explanation. At that instant the door opened, and the much-talked-of Bertha entered the room. "Bertha!" exclaimed Musgrave, and stepped forward, as if unconscious of what he did. "Robert!" she rejoined, clasping her hands together. She started--she fell back; her brother supported her in his arms. "Bertha!--father!--friend!" he exclaimed, hastily glancing to each as he spoke, "what means this?" A man of middle age rose, and, as he hurried from the room, said-- "Farewell, Forster," addressing the old man; "you have deceived, you have insulted me. The man who is to be your daughter's husband is with her now." It was the intended husband of Bertha that so spoke, and left the apartment. The old colonel rose to follow him. "Stay, father," said his son; "what I have now witnessed requires an explanation. This stranger, to whom I owe my life, you have seen before--my sister has seen him--and there is something connected with your acquaintance with each other that I must understand."