"It is a fine morning, Sir; would you like to look into the garden," said
mine host, with an inviting smile.

Walter accepted the offer, and found himself in a large and well-stocked
garden, laid out with much neatness and some taste; the Landlord halted
by a parterre which required his attention, and Walter walked on in
solitary reflection.

The morning was serene and clear, but the frost mingled the freshness
with an "eager and nipping air," and Walter unconsciously quickened his
step as he paced to and fro the straight walk that bisected the garden,
with his eyes on the ground, and his hat over his brows.

Now then he had reached the place where the last trace of his father
seemed to have vanished; in how wayward and strange a manner! If no
further clue could be here discovered by the inquiry he purposed; at this
spot would terminate his researches and his hopes. But the young heart of
the traveller was buoyed up with expectation. Looking back to the events
of the last few weeks, he thought he recognised the finger of Destiny
guiding him from step to step, and now resting on the scene to which it
had brought his feet. How singularly complete had been the train of
circumstance, which, linking things seemingly most trifling--most
dissimilar, had lengthened into one continuous chain of evidence! the
trivial incident that led him to the saddler's shop; the accident that
brought the whip that had been his father's, to his eye; the account from
Courtland, which had conducted him to this remote part of the country;
and now the narrative of Elmore leading him to the spot, at which all
inquiry seemed as yet to pause! Had he been led hither only to hear
repeated that strange tale of sudden and wanton disappearance--to find an
abrupt wall, a blank and impenetrable barrier to a course, hitherto so