apartment, knocked down Harry Ap Heather, who was coming in at the
door to challenge his supposed rival to a boxing-match.

Harry sprang up, in a double rage, and intercepted Mr. Chainmail's
pursuit of the Captain, placing himself in the doorway, in a
pugilistic attitude. Mr. Chainmail, not being disposed for this
mode of combat, stepped back into the parlour, took the poker in
his right hand, and displacing the loose bottom of a large elbow
chair, threw it over his left arm as a shield. Harry, not liking
the aspect of the enemy in this imposing attitude, retreated with
backward steps into the kitchen, and tumbled over a cur, which
immediately fastened on his rear.

Mr. Chainmail, half-laughing, half-vexed, anxious to overtake the
Captain, and curious to know what was the matter with him, pocketed
the newspaper, and sallied forth, leaving Harry roaring for a
doctor and tailor, to repair the lacerations of his outward man.

Mr. Chainmail could find no trace of the Captain. Indeed, he
sought him but in one direction, which was that leading to the
farm; where he arrived in due time, and found Miss Susan alone. He
laid the newspaper on the table, as was his custom, and proceeded
to converse with the young lady: a conversation of many pauses, as
much of signs as of words. The young lady took up the paper, and
turned it over and over, while she listened to Mr. Chainmail, whom
she found every day more and more agreeable, when suddenly her eye
glanced on something which made her change colour, and dropping the
paper on the ground, she rose from her seat, exclaiming:
"Miserable must she be who trusts any of your faithless sex! never,
never, never, will I endure such misery twice." And she vanished