hasty veteran. "He is not yet master of William Henry, nor shall he
ever be, provided Webb proves himself the man he should. No, sir, thank
Heaven we are not yet in such a strait that it can be said Munro is too
much pressed to discharge the little domestic duties of his own family.
Your mother was the only child of my bosom friend, Duncan; and I'll just
give you a hearing, though all the knights of St. Louis were in a body
at the sally-port, with the French saint at their head, crying to speak
a word under favor. A pretty degree of knighthood, sir, is that which
can be bought with sugar hogsheads! and then your twopenny marquisates.
The thistle is the order for dignity and antiquity; the veritable
'nemo me impune lacessit' of chivalry. Ye had ancestors in that degree,
Duncan, and they were an ornament to the nobles of Scotland."

Heyward, who perceived that his superior took a malicious pleasure in
exhibiting his contempt for the message of the French general, was
fain to humor a spleen that he knew would be short-lived; he therefore,
replied with as much indifference as he could assume on such a subject:

"My request, as you know, sir, went so far as to presume to the honor of
being your son."

"Ay, boy, you found words to make yourself very plainly comprehended.
But, let me ask ye, sir, have you been as intelligible to the girl?"

"On my honor, no," exclaimed Duncan, warmly; "there would have been an
abuse of a confided trust, had I taken advantage of my situation for
such a purpose."

"Your notions are those of a gentleman, Major Heyward, and well enough
in their place. But Cora Munro is a maiden too discreet, and of a mind