"Good-day, sir. Lady Compton, your most obedient servant; madam, yours!
All right! Only just in time to get the writ sealed; served it myself a
quarter of an hour ago, just as his lordship was getting into his
carriage. Not a day to lose; just in time. Capital! Glorious!"

"What do you mean, Mr. Ferret?" exclaimed Emily Dalston: her sister was
too agitated to speak.

"What do I mean? Let us all four step, sir, into your inner sanctum, and
I'll soon tell you what I mean."

We adjourned, accordingly, to an inner and more private room. Our
conference lasted about half an hour, at the end of which the ladies
took their leave: Lady Compton, her beautiful features alternately
irradiated and clouded by smiles and tears, murmuring in a broken,
agitated voice, as she shook hands with me, "You see, sir, he intended
at last to do us justice."

The news that an action had been brought on behalf of an infant son of
the late Sir Harry Compton against the Earl of Emsdale, for the recovery
of the estates in the possession of that nobleman, produced the greatest
excitement in the part of the county where the property was situated. The
assize town was crowded, on the day the trial was expected to come on, by
the tenantry of the late baronet and their families, with whom the
present landlord was by no means popular. As I passed up the principal
street, towards the court-house, accompanied by my junior, I was received
with loud hurraings and waving of handkerchiefs, something after the
manner, I suppose, in which chivalrous steel-clad knights, about to do
battle in behalf of distressed damsels, were formerly received by the
miscellaneous spectators of the lists. Numerous favors, cockades,