"I believe you," said Sir Norman, with another profound and

broken-hearted sigh, "and I'm only too sure she has been abducted by

that consummate scoundrel and treacherous villain, Count L'Estrange."

"Count who?" said Hubert, with a quick start, and a look of intense

curiosity. "What was the name?"

"L'Estrange--a scoundrel of the deepest dye! Perhaps you know him?"

"No," replied Hubert, with a queer, half musing smile, "no; but I have a

notion I have heard the name. Was he a rival of yours?"

"I should think so! He was to have been married to the lady this very

night!"

"He was, eh! And what prevented the ceremony?"

"She took the plague!" said Sir Norman, strange to say, not at all

offended at the boy's familiarity. "And would have been thrown into the

plague-pit but for me. And when she recovered she accepted me and cast

him off!"

"A quick exchange! The lady's heart must be most flexible, or unusually

large, to be able to hold so many at once."

"It never held him!" said Sir Norman, frowning; "she was forced into

the marriage by her mercenary friends. Oh! if I had him here, wouldn't I

make him wish the highwaymen had shot him through the head, and done for

him, before I would let him go!"

"What is he like--this Count L'Estrange?" said Hubert, carelessly.

"Like the black-hearted traitor and villain he is!" replied Sir Norman,

with more energy than truth; for he had caught but passing glimpses

of the count's features, and those showed him they were decidedly

prepossessing; "and he slinks along like a coward and an abductor as

he is, in a slouched hat and shadowy cloak. Oh! if I had him here!"

repeated Sir Norman, with vivacity; "wouldn't I--"

"Yes, of course you would," interposed Hubert, "and serve him right,

too! Have you made any inquiries about the matter--for instance, of our

friend sleeping the sleep of the just, across there?"

"No--why?"

"Why, it seems to me, if she's been carried off before he fell asleep,

he has probably heard or seen something of it; and I think it would not

be a bad plan to step over and inquire."

"Well, we can try," said Sir Norman, with a despairing face; "but I

know it will end in disappointment and vexation of spirit, like all the

rest!"

With which dismal view of things, he crossed the street side by side

with his jaunty young friend. The watchman was still enjoying the balmy,

and snoring in short, sharp snorts, when Master Hubert remorselessly

caught him by the shoulder, and began a series of shakes and pokes, and

digs, and "hallos!" while Sir Norman stood near and contemplated the

scene with a pensive eye. At last while undergoing a severe course of

this treatment the watchman was induced to open his eyes on this mortal

life, and transfix the two beholders with, an intensely vacant and blank

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