he had secretly embarked on board an American vessel bound for Panama.  Louis asked why he had fled, instead of taking his trial, and confuting Robson; but he smiled, and said, my Lord knew little of foreign justice; besides, Ford was ready to bear any witness that Robson might put into his mouth;—­and his face grew dark.  Who was this Ford?  He could not tell; Mr. Robson had picked him up a few months back, when there was a want of a clerk; like loved like, he supposed, but it was no concern of his.  Would it be safe for him to venture back to Peru, under Fitzjocelyn’s protection, and assist him in unmasking the treacherous Robson!  To this he readily agreed, catching at the hope of establishing his innocence; but declaring that he should then go at once to the States.—­’What, not even go home to see Charlotte?  I’ve got a letter for you, when I can get at it.’

Tom made no answer, and Fitzjocelyn feared that, in spite of all his good qualities, his fidelity in love had not equalled his fidelity to his employers.  He could not understand his protege during the few days of their journey.  He was a great acquisition to his comfort, with his knowledge of the language and people, and his affectionate deference.  At home, where all were courtly, he had been almost rude; but here, in the land of ill manners, his attentions were so assiduous that Louis was obliged to beg him to moderate them lest they should both be ridiculous.  He had become a fine-looking young man, with a foreign air and dress agreeing well with his dark complexion; and he had acquired much practical ability and information.  Mountains, authority, and a good selection of books had been excellent educators; he was a very superior and intelligent person, and, without much polish, had laid aside his peasant rusticities, and developed some of the best qualities of a gentleman.  But though open and warm-hearted on many points with his early friend, there was a gloom and moodiness about him, which Louis could only explain by thinking that his unmerited disgrace preyed on him more than was quite manly.  To this cause, likewise, Louis at first attributed his never choosing to hear a word about Charlotte; but as the distaste—­nay almost sullenness, evoked by any allusion to her, became more apparent, Louis began unwillingly to balance his suspicions between some fresh attachment, or unworthy shame at an engagement to a maidservant.

The poor little damsel’s sweet blushing face and shy courtesy, and all her long and steady faithfulness, made him feel indignant at such a suspicion, and he resolved to bring Madison to some explanation; but he did not find the opportunity till after they had embarked at the beautiful little islet of Toboga for Callao.  On board, he had time to find in his portmanteau the letter with which she had entrusted him, and, seeking Madison on deck, gave it to him.  He held it in his hand without opening it; but the sparkle in his dark eye did not betoken the bashfulness of fondness, and Louis, taking a turn along the deck to watch him unperceived, saw him raise his hand as if to throw the poor letter overboard at once.  A few long steps, and Louis was beside him, exclaiming, ’What now, Tom—­is that the way you treat your letters?’