regiment, which was like to have led to some serious consequences; but, after your father stating the circumstances to the colonel, the latter waited upon the Duke of Marlborough, and we heard no more of the affair. "The last action we were in together, we both escaped unhurt; yet it was the bloodiest one we had ever been in. Of all the honours of Malplaquet, the Monroes had their full share; for, although the Duke did not like the Scots, and used at times to throw a sarcasm at their country, he always gave them a situation of danger, either from dislike or a reliance on their courage. About twelve months after Malplaquet, your father left the service and retired into France. Peace was now evidently at hand, and an armistice had been agreed upon and signed by several of the allies of the English; and our gallant leader was now in disgrace. Much as Henry Seaton and I esteemed each other in all other points, we had no fellowship in politics. I was and am a Whig; he, a Tory of the first water--a devoted adherent of the exiled family; yet, high as parties ran at this time in cities, we had no differences in the camp, where each respected his neighbour's opinion, nor overvalued his own. The last letter I received from him was about twelve months after we parted. It was dated St Germain's. He said, and in a mysterious sort of way, half-earnest, half-jest, that, in a short time, we might meet, to try the force of our different opinions. I, at the time, only laughed at it, and returned, for answer, that I had no doubt we would both do our best, and leave the issue to the Disposer of events. Soon after, Mar's ill-concerted rebellion took place, in which I have no doubt your father was an active agent; but I have, since this last letter, lost all trace of him. Your being born in the year '16 would lead me to suppose that he must have married your mother about the time of the Rebellion, either in Scotland or France." That Henry Seaton was his father, William earnestly prayed; but how was he to ascertain this fact? He knew not; neither could his kind host assist him. The lapse of time was so great, that, in all probability, he was dead; and, with a mind worse at ease than it had ever been, he took leave of the Colonel, promising to call again in the forenoon of the following day, to consult what steps he should take to follow out the information he had so unexpectedly acquired. He reached the inn, and retired to rest; but sleep had fled his pillow. A thousand ideas crowded his mind; method after method was canvassed, each for a time offering assured success, but, upon more mature consideration, being rejected. Day dawned, and found him as unresolved as when he left Colonel Gordon. As soon as it was consistent with propriety, he waited upon the Colonel, by whom he was greeted heartily. "Well, tell me," said he, "the fruit of your invention for tracing out your father, and I will tell you what has occurred to me as the best mode of procedure."