strong resemblance to my father."

He took off his hat as he spoke, shook back his long black hair, and

fixed his jet-black eyes upon Cheeseman. That upright dealer had not

recovered his usual self-possession yet, but managed to look up--for he

was shorter by a head than his visitor--with a doubtful and enquiring

smile.

"I am Caryl Carne, of Carne Castle, as you are pleased to call it. I

have not been in England these many years; from the death of my father I

have been afar; and now, for causes of my own, I am returned, with hope

of collecting the fragments of the property of my ancestors. It appears

to have been their custom to scatter, but not gather up again. My

intention is to make a sheaf of the relics spread by squanderers, and

snapped up by scoundrels."

"To be sure, to be sure," cried the general dealer; "this is vastly to

your credit, sir, and I wish you all success, sir, and so will all who

have so long respected your ancient and honourable family, sir. Take a

chair, sir--please to take a chair."

"I find very little to my credit," Mr. Carne said, dryly, as he took the

offered chair, but kept his eyes still upon Cheeseman's; "but among that

little is a bond from you, given nearly twenty years agone, and of which

you will retain, no doubt, a vivid recollection."

"A bond, sir--a bond!" exclaimed the other, with his bright eyes

twinkling, as in some business enterprise. "I never signed a bond in all

my life, sir. Why, a bond requires sureties, and nobody ever went surety

for me."

"Bond may not be the proper legal term. It is possible. I know nothing

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