“But why stop at the gate?  Drive up the avenue, my boy.”

“His honor told me, sir, not for the world to go farther than the lodge; nor to make as much noise as a mouse.”

“Ah! very true.  He may be very irritable, poor man!  Well stop here, and I’ll get out.”

Just as the doctor had reached the ground, a very smart-looking soubrette tripped up, and said to him—­

“Beg pardon, sir; but you are the gentleman from the barrack, sir?”

“Yes, my dear,” said Fitz., with a knowing look at the pretty face of the damsel, “what can I do for you?”

“Why sir, my mistress is here in the shrubbery; but she is so nervous, and so frightened, I don’t know how she’ll go through it.”

“Ah! she’s frightened, poor thing; is she?  Oh! she must keep up her spirits, while there’s life there’s hope.”

“Sir.”

“I say, my darling, she must not give way.  I’ll speak to her a little.  Is not he rather advanced in life?”

“Oh, Lord! no sir.  Only two-and-thirty, my mistress tells me?”

“Two-and-thirty!  Why I thought he was above sixty.”

“Above sixty!  Law! sir.  You have a bright fancy.  This is the gentleman, ma’am.  Now sir, I’ll just slip aside for a moment, and let you talk to her.”

“I am grieved, ma’am, that I have not the happiness to make your acquaintance under happier circumstances.”

“I must confess, sir—­though I am ashamed”—­

“Never be ashamed, ma’am.  Your grief, although, I trust causeless, does you infinite honor.”

“Upon my soul she is rather pretty,” said the doctor to himself here.

“Well, sir! as I have the most perfect confidence in you, from all I have heard of you, I trust you will not think me abrupt in saying that any longer delay here is dangerous.”

“Dangerous!  Is he in so critical a state as that then?”

“Critical a state, sir!  Why what do you mean?”

“I mean, ma’am, do you think, then, it must be done to-day?”

“Of course I do, sir, and I shall never leave the spot without your assuring me of it.”

“Oh! in that case make your mind easy.  I have the instruments in the chaise.”

“The instruments in the chaise!  Really, sir, if you are not jesting—­I trust you don’t think this is a fitting time for such—­I entreat of you to speak more plainly and intelligibly.”

“Jesting, ma’am!  I’m incapable of jesting at such a moment.”

“Ma’am! ma’am!  I see one of the rangers, ma’am, at a distance; so don’t lose a moment, but get into the chaise at once.”

“Well, sir, let us away; for I have now gone too far to retract.”

“Help my mistress into the chaise, sir.  Lord! what a man it is.”

A moment more saw the poor doctor seated beside the young lady, while the postillions plied whip and spur with their best energy; and the road flew beneath them.  Meanwhile the delay caused by this short dialogue, enabled Mrs. Fitz.’s slower conveyance to come up with the pursuit, and her chaise had just turned the angle of the road as she caught a glimpse of a muslin dress stepping into the carriage with her husband.