“‘And acquitted, sir.  My innocence was by Providence made clear,’ said Wapshot.

“’But you were not acquitted of embezzlement in ‘16, sir,’ says I, ’and passed two years in York Gaol in consequence.’  I knew the fellow’s history, for I had a writ out against him when he was a preacher at Clifton.  I followed up my blow.  ‘Mr. Wapshot,’ said I, ’you are making love to an excellent lady now at the house of Mr. Brough:  if you do not promise to give up all pursuit of her, I will expose you.’

“‘I have promised,’ said Wapshot, rather surprised, and looking more easy.  ’I have given my solemn promise to Mr. Brough, who was with me this very morning, storming, and scolding, and swearing.  Oh, sir, it would have frightened you to hear a Christian babe like him swear as he did.’

“‘Mr. Brough been here?’ says I, rather astonished.

“‘Yes; I suppose you are both here on the same scent,’ says Wapshot.  ’You want to marry the widow with the Slopperton and Squashtail estate, do you?  Well, well, have your way.  I’ve promised not to have anything more to do with the widow and a Wapshot’s honour is sacred.’

“‘I suppose, sir,’ says I, ’Mr. Brough has threatened to kick you out of doors, if you call again.’

“‘You have been with him, I see,’ says the reverend gent, with a shrug:  then I remembered what you had told me of the broken seal of your letter, and have not the slightest doubt that Brough opened and read every word of it.

“Well, the first bird was bagged:  both I and Brough had had a shot at him.  Now I had to fire at the whole Rookery; and off I went, primed and loaded, sir,—­primed and loaded.

“It was past eight when I arrived, and I saw, after I passed the lodge-gates, a figure that I knew, walking in the shrubbery—­that of your respected aunt, sir:  but I wished to meet the amiable ladies of the house before I saw her; because look, friend Titmarsh, I saw by Mrs. Hoggarty’s letter, that she and they were at daggers drawn, and hoped to get her out of the house at once by means of a quarrel with them.”

I laughed, and owned that Mr. Smithers was a very cunning fellow.

“As luck would have it,” continued he, “Miss Brough was in the drawing-room twangling on a guitar, and singing most atrociously out of tune; but as I entered at the door, I cried ‘Hush!’ to the footman, as loud as possible, stood stock-still, and then walked forward on tip-toe lightly.  Miss B. could see in the glass every movement that I made; she pretended not to see, however, and finished the song with a regular roulade.

“‘Gracious Heaven!’ said I, ’do, madam, pardon me for interrupting that delicious harmony,—­for coming unaware upon it, for daring uninvited to listen to it.’

“‘Do you come for Mamma, sir?’ said Miss Brough, with as much graciousness as her physiognomy could command.  ‘I am Miss Brough, sir.’

“’I wish, madam, you would let me not breathe a word regarding my business until you have sung another charming strain.’