when she was interrupted by the appearance in the quadrangular
slough without of a large figure in the uniform of the yeomanry
cavalry.

'What do you see out there?' said the farmer with a start, as she
paused and slowly blushed.

'A soldier--one of the yeomanry,' said Anne, not quite at her ease.

'Scrounch it all--'tis my nephew!' exclaimed the old man, his face
turning to a phosphoric pallor, and his body twitching with
innumerable alarms as he formed upon his face a gasping smile of
joy, with which to welcome the new-coming relative. 'Read on,
prithee, Miss Garland.'

Before she had read far the visitor straddled over the door-hurdle
into the passage and entered the room.

'Well, nunc, how do you feel?' said the giant, shaking hands with
the farmer in the manner of one violently ringing a hand-bell.
'Glad to see you.'

'Bad and weakish, Festus,' replied the other, his person responding
passively to the rapid vibrations imparted. 'O, be tender, please--
a little softer, there's a dear nephew! My arm is no more than a
cobweb.'

'Ah, poor soul!'

'Yes, I am not much more than a skeleton, and can't bear rough