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Aye! what, is the pretty Polly so impatient, you dare not keep her waiting for five minutes, even to oblige a friend; or do you fear a rival? There was a most fascinating bagman making the agreeable to her yesterday, when I happened to look in at the "Crown" for a bottle of soda-water. What, you won't wait? Well, then, I commission you to buy yourself, at your own expense, a pound of the best Manilla cheroots, in which case you will have a decent weed to give a friend, from time to time. Buy 'em, my dear boy; and to save your white teeth from discoloration, I'l smoke 'em for you."

But ere I had reached this point in my discourse, Charley Burrell was over the side, and a suggestion which I was about to hazard, that he should invite the port admiral to take a friendly glass of grog and a hand at cribbage in the cockpit, some fine afternoon, was lost to the world for ever.

And now, perhaps, the reader will not object to be enlightened on the important point of who Charley Burrell and "I" might happen to be. Who I was, is a question more easily than satisfactorily answered. I-ipsissimus ego-I myself, I, Tom Harrington, was the youngest son of a younger son of a good old county family: we had Norman blood in our veins, and "showed breed" in our forms and features; but, although we allowed pockets to be made in our unmentionables, it was merely for fashion's sake, for we never had anything to put in them. My father was one of the handsomest men I ever beheld, and, being only a younger son, held his head high, and felt proud of his family, upon the superfluities and runnings-over (to coin a word) of which he contrived to exist very comfortably; but I,

VOL. I. N. S.

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being a generation worse off, was no-ways proud," (as the old women term it,) and held my head "promiscuously," and as it pleased Providence. I had four brothers older than myself each possessed a talent of his own, took a line of his own, and distinguished himself in that line. I, on the contrary, had no particular talent, took no line, and distinguished myself only by the facility with which I availed myself of every opportunity of getting into scrapes. Thus I became looked upon at home as the shocking example, and was sent to sea accordingly, where ætatis eighteen, I found myself, on the morning when the conversation just detailed took place, midshipman of the watch on board H.M.S. Spitfire, then lying as guard-ship off Portsmouth. To detail the antecedents, or describe the social position of Charles (or, as he was more familiarly termed, Charley) Burrell, is no such easy matter, seeing that from the first moment in which I beheld him, a species of mystery appeared to hang about the man. Although Burrell is a good old name, it was impossible to identify the particular branch of the Burrells to which he belonged. When pressed on the point, he hinted, rather than declared, that he had been brought up in Ireland, where his father was possessed of large estates; and as he always appeared flush of money, no one doubted the truth of the statement, or cared to verify it. He had joined our ship about a year previous to the time of which I am writing, having obtained the appointment of second lieutenant. He had not been on board a fortnight, ere, by his fascinating appearance, polished manners, obliging disposition, and the variety and extent of his accomplishments, he had captivated all hearts. He seemed about twenty-two, possessed a tall, graceful figure, and singularly handsome features, and rejoiced in an admirable Crichton-like facility for doing everything better than anybody else. It may easily be imagined that this favourite of nature soon gained a position among his shipmates, to which any less gifted mortal would never have attained; and ere he had been six months on board, no one would have ventured to pronounce a girl pretty, a horse promising, or a bottle of wine drinkable, till Charley Burrell

had established their orthodoxy by the fiat of his approval. Since he had catered for the mess, the wine-merchant was besieged for the same port with which he supplied the Spitfire. The steeple chase he got up became memorable in the annals of sporting, for, although all the horses were ridden by naval officers, only three out of eight came in minus their riders. Then, as to women, every one acknowledged that Mary, the "only daughter" of mine host of the "Crown," was by long odds the prettiest girl in Portsmouth; and if Mary had not lost her heart to Charley Burrell, why she was the most arrant little coquette who ever trod prunella, that's certain.

“Tom! Harrington! Tom, I say! where the Oh, there you are. Here's the first lieutenant been singing out for you, and swearing like a whole regiment of troopers, because he can't find you," and the speaker, Fred Onslow, a fine, spirited little fellow of thirteen, a particular friend and protégé of mine, rushed into the cockpit so hastily, that, catching his foot against the door-sill, he would have fallen headlong, had not I extended my arm, and caught him. The situation was essentially melo-dramatic, and, flinging myself into a tragic attitude, I availed myself of it, by apostrophising an imaginary long-lost brother, when the ungentle voice of the first lieutenant reached my ear, 66 breathing my name" in tones which proved that he was not in a mood to be trifled with.

"The boat sent for Mr. Burrell has waited for him an hour, and he had not arrived, so the cockswain returned without him. You know as well as any one where he is likely to be found, Mr. Harrington: take the gig, and, if he is in Portsmouth, bring him off with you. Tell him to consider himself under arrest, for neglect of duty."

Having thus spoken, the first lieutenant, who, in the captain's absence, was really a terrific personage, resumed his promenade up and down the quarter-deck, with the air and gait of an hungry tiger. I did know where I conceived Burrell would probably be found; but in vain did I search Portsmouth through, there apparently he was not; he had not visited any of his usual haunts, even the pretty Mary denied having set eyes on him that morning. At last, a half-tipsy hostler deposed to having seen somebody, whom he took for Mr. Burrell, on the top of one of the London coaches, but if so, "he had been and altered hisself someways." And with this scanty and unsatisfactory information I was obliged to return, and make my report to the first lieutenant, who

received it with a most diabolical expression of countenance; but he was an awful man, was that lieutenant, at least, when the captain was not on board.

Well, there was a pretty shindy made about poor Charley's disappearance: the captain went bodily to London to look after him-all kinds of traps were laid to catch him--even a reward was offered for his apprehension-but in vain; and at length a report was circulated, and pretty generally believed, that he had been seen dressed like a common sailor, with his whiskers shaved off, and a carrotty wig on, serving before the mast in a vessel bound for America. One thing only was certain,— Charley Burrell had bolted.

The next question was-why or wherefore he had done so? An answer was quickly forthcoming. No sooner had the news become generally known through Portsmouth, than bills innumerable poured in; not only "little accounts," private and personal, but unfortunately debts for wine he had supplied to the mess, for the payment whereof he had months ago received the money. The result may be easily imagined a court-martial was called, and poor Charley ignominiously dismissed the service. Popular as he once was, men now vied with each other in abusing him. Still there were some three or four of us, (myself among the number,) who could not so easily forget our friendship, and, in spite of appearances, hoped against hope that some explanation would be found for his extraordinary conduct, without reducing us to the unpleasant necessity of admitting that, for more than a year, we had been the facile dupes of an accomplished swindler.

On calling to inquire how Mary had borne the desertion of her lover, I was informed that the hot weather had disagreed with her, and that she had gone to stay with her aunt in the country, to recruit her energies. For at least three weeks nothing was talked of but the "mysterious disappearance" of Charley Burrell, at the expiration of which period, somebody else's cow died, and the affair was forgotten.

As it is not my intention to write my life, but merely to relate so much of it as is necessarily involved in following the career of Charles Burrell, the Marrying Man, I will skip over the next two years, and beg the reader to imagine me at the age of twenty, highly elated at finding myself a lieutenant, and waiting in London while some of my influential relatives used their interest to get me appointed to a ship. Loitering down Bond-street, one sunny afternoon, my attention was attracted by the

splendid action of an unusually fine horse, the taste and finish of a remarkably stylish cab, and the thoroughly workman-like appearance of the whole turn-out. To my surprise, no sooner did a fashionable-looking young fellow who was driving it catch sight of me, than a pair of lemon-coloured kid gloves pulled up the splendid horse with a jerk so sudden as to throw him on his haunches, while a voice that sounded familiar to my ear exclaimed, "Tom Harrington, by all that's wonderful!" and on looking up, I immediately recognised in the speaker, my former friend and associate, Charles Burrell, the runaway ex-lieutenant of the Spitfire. Although the moment I caught his bright sparkling eye, and recognized his joyous devil-may-care smile, I felt something of my old regard stealing over me, I considered it due to my own dignity to resent, what I could not but consider, the impertinent familiarity of his address. A man who had lost his character, and bolted with a considerable amount of money belonging to the mess funds in his pocket, had no right to consider himself fit company even for such a very youngest son as I was. So I merely raised my hat with Grandisonian politeness, and was about to pass on; but Charley was too cool a hand to be shaken off so easily.

"Very grand and dignified, indeed," he said, laughingly; "but, my dear boy, it won't do. Ever since I came into my fortune, and stood right with the world again, I've been wanting to run against one of the old Spitfires, and now chance has thrown you in my way, and I'm not going to let you escape me. Come, jump in, man; don't you see the horse is tired of standing?"

At the beginning of this speech, my mind was quite made up to persevere in my coolness, and to resist any overtures towards the renewal of our acquaintanceship; but, somehow, Charley had a way with him which rendered it so disagreeable to say "No," that, in fact, it became next to impossible to do so. It is lucky he never tried to persuade me to rob a bank, or pillage a church, for I fully believe I should have done it. At all events, I know that on the occasion in question I was seated by his side, and dashing along Bond-street at the rate of twelve miles an hour, almost before he had done speaking.

“And so you all set me down as a swindler, and the old fools on the court-martial actually dismissed me the service, because I happened to have a run of ill-luck, which my purse was not long enough to bear up against, eh? Well, they only saved me the trouble of resigning

my commission, which I certainly should have done, when my jolly old uncle in India died, and left me his heir. Handling tarry ropes becomes slow work when one can spend £5000 a year on shore, and yet not consider oneself o f'extravagant. But, as I see you're in a hurry now, dine with me quietly at Morelli's, in the Haymarket, at half-past seven, and I'll tell you all about it, over a bottle of real Chateau Margaux." And, so saying, Charley set me down within a stone's throw of the Admiralty, very angry with myself that I had not been able to muster sufficient presence of mind to refuse his singularly impertinent invitation. As I had not refused it, however, go I must, and go I did, although my joy at finding, on my return to my hotel to dress for dinner, an official letter, appointing me first lieutenant of the good ship Cassandra, put me in such a celestial frame of mind, that I could have feasted with Duke Humphrey, or the Barmecide, or even Sancho Panza, in Barrataria, without complaining of the fare.

The veriest epicure who ever adored turtle, however, could not have complained of the dinner Charley Burrell had provided for my entertainment-on the contrary, one only felt ashamed that two men who could have dined off a couple of pounds of beef-steak, and a quart of porter, should have had such a banquet set before them.

After the second bottle of claret made its appearance, Charley, who had previously rendered himself especially agreeable on the general topics of the day, began-" And now, Tom, my boy, I will tell you (always supposing you find the subject sufficiently interesting to wish to hear the truth about it) why I astonished the good people of Portsmouth, by making myself scarce upon such short noticewhat has befallen me since--and how, if tomorrow comes, and finds me alive and jolly, I intend to employ it."

Of course I expressed my cagerness to hear his explanation, and he continued.

"The fact is, that when I first joined the Spitfire, I went the pace a great deal too fast; but I believed my governor would help me if I got into any scrape, and I trusted to luck to bring me right again. I did pretty well till that confounded steeple-chase; but on that I lost, from first to last, about £1000. Just at that time I received the money for the messbills, and as I knew that the tradesmen would wait, and the blacklegs wouldn't, I applied the aforesaid tin to satisfy the more clamorous ones, fully believing that I should be able to replace it when necessary. Whether the cap

tain grew suspicious of me, or what, I can't tell; but he suddenly desired me to make up my accounts, and send them in by a certain day. I instantly wrote to my father, telling him the scrape I was in, and begging him to send me a cheque for £800. By return of post came a letter from his lawyer, informing me that, owing to the failure of one of the great houses connected with the India trade, my father was a ruined man, and that his liabilities were so heavy, that, by his friends' advice, he had determined to keep out of the way till some arrangement should be entered into with his creditors. Well, you may suppose this news, coming at such a time, drove me nearly frantic; and, as a last chance, I rushed to the gaming-table, played for the full amount of my debts, and-lost! I gave an I.O.U., payable next day, for the money, and resolved, before it should be due, to blow my brains out. Accordingly, I came on shore, with a brace of pistols ready loaded in my pocket, and betook myself to the "Crown," meaning to write something between a will and a last dying speech and confession, and then shoot myself. Little Mary brought me pens and paper, and, somehow-(I suppose by a woman's instinct of affection, for the poor girl was desperately fond of me)-she guessed my purpose, and would not leave me till she had obtained my promise not to attempt my life. Having yielded to her persuasions, there was nothing for it but to decamp. Accordingly, disguised as a common sailor, I found my way to London, where I contrived to elude the search made for me. How I lived for the next year and a half, I can scarcely tell you; at times I was no stranger either to cold or hunger, and have gone out in the morning without a farthing in my pocket, or the slightest idea whither to direct my steps. But when things get to the worst, they're sure to mend; so just as I was beginning to lose my last possessions-health and strength-old nunks, in India, who was always an intolerable bore when living, very obligingly died, and from a beggar I awoke one fine morning to find myself rather a millionnaire than otherwise. The first thing I did was, as you may guess, to make it all right in regard to the Spitfire 'defalcation,' as the old fogies on the court-martial had the impertinence to call it. And, now, what do you think I am going to be after to-morrow?"

"Get married, perhaps," returned I, naming the most improbable thing that came into my head.

"Right, by Jove! Edipus himself could not have hit it nearer. Yes, my boy, I'm going to do

what most people will call a very foolish thing -I'm going to marry little Mary, daughter to mine host of the "Crown;" but she's as good and as pretty a girl as ever lived. She's saved my life; she's remained constant to me through all my troubles; she cares more for me than any one else ever did, or ever will; so people may say what they please, I'm independent of everybody, and marry her I will."

"Your determination does you credit," replied I, grasping his hand, and shaking it warmly. "Charley, old fellow, you're a brick, and I beg your pardon for ever having been induced to think otherwise of you."

"Say you so, man!" exclaimed Burrell, eagerly, "then you shall come and see me spliced; and if you don't say the champagne at breakfast is the best you ever tasted, why I don't know good wine from bad, that's all.”

I took him at his word, and a gay and happy wedding it proved. The wine was super-excellent; but a handsomer couple than Charley Burrell and his bright-smiling, blushing, little wife, could seldom have been found amidst all the rank and fashion who take each other for better for worse beneath the lofty dome of St. George's, Hanover-square.

CHAPTER II.

FIVE years had elapsed since the morning on which I had drunk more champagne than was by any means prudent, at Charley Burrell's wedding breakfast, and the giver of the feast I had not encountered since. Having, like Lord Bateman, of lyrical celebrity, "sailed east and sailed west"-having been done exceedingly brown by the sun and the slavedealers off the coast of Guinea, and been put out to cool in the vicinity of Greenland's icy mountains having, like the pious Æneas, been "considerably tossed about, both by land and sea," and in short experienced the usual vicissitudes of a sailor's life, I now found myself appointed first lieutenant of the good ship Atalanta, refitting at Portsmouth, preparatory to her departure to join the admiral, then cruizing off Malta. Of course, as the operation of taking in her stores was not completed, I was obliged to be almost constantly on board; but the little time I spent on shore I made the "Crown" my head-quarters. One of the first questions I asked mine host was concerning the welfare of his daughter and her husband..

The worthy man shook his head. "Mary is well enough," he said; "she lives in a little cottage, just outside the town, and I generally contrive to spend my evenings with her; it is

better for me than being tempted to exceed my one glass of grog, as I often did at home; and it cheers Mary, poor thing, to have even her old father to gossip with a bit.”

"Why, how is that, then," I inquired; "does not her husband live with her?"

"Ah! that turned out a bad business," was the reply; "I never approved of the match; she'd better have married some honest young fellow in her own rank of life; but, womanlike, she was so taken with Mr. Burrell's handsome face and dashing manner, that she would not so much as look at any other man. But I expect she sees her error now, though even yet I believe she's very fond of him.”

'Well, but what has Burrell done to forfeit her good opinion ?" asked I, impatiently, wearied by the worthy man's prolixity.

"He has done this, sir; he has won my poor girl's affections, bound himself to her by the solemn tie of matrimony, and then first, neglected, and finally, deserted her. He has not been heard of in Portsmouth for the last three years, and it's my belief he has left the country, for good and all."

"But what has become of the fortune he received from his uncle in India ?" I inquired.

The innkeeper smiled. "He was a firstrate liar, I will say that for him," he resumed; "he'd got such an easy, off-hand way of saying things, that people couldn't help believing him. Why, bless you, Mr. Harrington, he'd no more a fortune left him than you had."

"Then I wish he'd teach me the secret of living, as if he were Dives himself, without one," rejoined I.

"You would not make use of it, if he did, sir," was the reply. "I've learned the truth of a good many of his goings on since I saw you last. When he first cut away from here, afore the court-martial, he hadn't a sixpence in the world."

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So he told me," interrupted I.

"Aye, but he didn't tell you that when he got to London he went as a billiard-marker, and by his cleverness, and a little cheating, whenever he could manage it without being found out, contrived to scrape together money enough to take a share in a fashionable gaminghouse, where he grew rich on the ruin of better men than himself. He didn't tell you that, did he?"

My companion then proceeded to relate various minutiae in the career of Charles Burrell, which certainly threw discredit on the story of the Indian uncle; but when one came to sift the evidence, there was always a link wanting to enable one to fix the accusation

unmistakeably. A person like Charles Burrell was seen several times acting as croupier, and eventually as dealer, in a notorious gamblinghouse. Times and seasons suited, but still there was always room for a doubt; it might not have been him. Certain facts, however, were indisputable. For the first six months after his marriage he lived quietly and peaceably with his wife, at the cottage Mary still occupied. At the expiration of that period, a letter arrived, which, as he said, required his presence in London; and from that time his absences became more and more frequent and prolonged, till at length he stayed away altogether. Mary's letters were returned unopened, and for three years she had neither seen him nor heard of, or from him.

This account of my quondam friend grieved and annoyed me; but so strong was the fascination he had exercised over me, that I could not help hoping against hope, that partiality to his daughter might have prejudiced the good innkeeper against his son-in-law, and that even yet, Charley would turn out not to be so black as he was painted; with which vague and not particularly well-founded expectation I was fain to content myself.

When her preparations were completed, the Atalanta sailed, and in due course of time reached Malta in safety; thence we were dispatched to cruize off the coast of Turkey, and look out for pirates at the entrance to the Dardanelles. We had been on this station about three weeks, and were lying off one of the smaller Turkish ports, the name of which has escaped my memory, when, one morning, we perceived a boat from the shore approaching us, with an individual in the stern who looked like, and proved to be, a clerk in a public office. He was the bearer of a letter to our captain, from the English consul. The captain of the Atalanta was a man younger than myself; but, having the good fortune to be nephew to a cabinet minister, he found himself captain of a frigate at the age of twenty, while I, five years his senior, was still a lieutenant. Probably, from a latent consciousness of his youth and inexperience, which he studiously concealed by an affectation of remarkable and superfluous decision of character, he did me the honour of consulting me in all cases of difficulty. Accordingly, on the present occasion, he had not been closeted more than ten minutes with the young official, before I received a summons to attend him.

"Sit down, Mr. Harrington; I have just received a communication from Mr. the consul, informing me that an English subject