after nightfall."

"Do you know anything of that Feltram that has been with him abroad?"
asked the Doctor.

"They say he's no good at anything--a harmless mafflin; he was a long
gaumless gawky when he went awa," said Richard Turnbull. "The Feltrams
and the Mardykes was sib, ye know; and that made what passed in the
misfortune o' that young lady spoken of all the harder; and this young
man ye speak of is a grandson o' the lad that was put here in care o' my
grandfather."

"_Great_-grandson. His father was grandson," said Mr. Peers; "he held a
commission in the army and died in the West Indies. This Philip Feltram
is the last o' that line--illegitimate, you know, it is held--and the
little that remained of the Feltram property went nearly fourscore years
ago to the Mardykes, and this Philip is maintained by Sir Bale; it is
pleasant, notwithstanding all the stories one hears, gentlemen, that the
only thing we know of him for certain should be so creditable to his
kindness."

"To be sure," acquiesced Mr. Turnbull.

While they talked the horn sounded, and the mail-coach drew up at the
door of the George and Dragon to set down a passenger and his luggage.

Dick Turnbull rose and went out to the hall with careful bustle, and
Doctor Torvey followed as far as the door, which commanded a view of it,
and saw several trunks cased in canvas pitched into the hall, and by
careful Tom and a boy lifted one on top of the other, behind the corner