reflection was little adapted to comfort me. That he should cherish in
his heart a growing hatred against me, and that he should think himself
obliged to retain me a continual thorn in his side, was an idea by no
means of favourable augury to my future peace.

It was some time after this that, in clearing out a case of drawers, I
found a paper that, by some accident, had slipped behind one of the
drawers, and been overlooked. At another time perhaps my curiosity might
have given way to the laws of decorum, and I should have restored it
unopened to my master, its owner. But my eagerness for information had
been too much stimulated by the preceding incidents, to allow me at
present to neglect any occasion of obtaining it. The paper proved to be
a letter written by the elder Hawkins, and from its contents seemed to
have been penned when he had first been upon the point of absconding
from the persecutions of Mr. Tyrrel. It was as follows:--

"Honourable Sir,

"I have waited some time in daily hope of your honour's return into
these parts. Old Warnes and his dame, who are left to take care of your
house, tell me they cannot say when that will be, nor justly in what
part of England you are at present. For my share, misfortune comes so
thick upon me, that I must determine upon something (that is for
certain), and out of hand. Our squire, who I must own at first used me
kindly enough, though I am afraid that was partly out of spite to squire
Underwood, has since determined to be the ruin of me. Sir, I have been
no craven; I fought it up stoutly; for after all, you know, God bless
your honour! it is but a man to a man; but he has been too much for me.

"Perhaps if I were to ride over to the market-town and enquire of