22 THE SMUGGLER. 



a martyr of too, sir? Are you to be set running after foxes 

 all day, like a tiger on horseback, and to have sheep's eyes 

 cast at you all the evening, like a man in the pillory pelted 

 with eggs? Are you bound to imbibe a butt of claret in 

 three weeks? Poor young men! poor young men! My 

 bowels of compassion yearn towards you." 



"I shall fortunately escape all such perils," replied he whom 

 he had last addressed; "I have no invitation to that part of 

 the country." 



" Come, then, I'll give you one," said the old gentleman ; 

 "if you like to come and stay a few days with an old bachelor, 

 who will neither make you drunk nor make you foolish, I shall 

 be glad to see you." 



" I am not very likely to get drunk," answered the other, 

 " as an old wound compels me to be a water drinker. Foolish 

 enough I may be, and may have been ; but I am sure that evil 

 would not be increased by frequenting your society, my dear 

 sir." 



"I don't know; I don't know, young gentleman," said Mr. 

 Croyland; "every man has his follies, and I amongst the rest 

 as goodly a bag- full as one could well desire. But you have 

 not given me an answer; shall I see you? Will you come 

 with your friend, and take up your abode at a single man's 

 house, while Sir Edward goes and charms the ladies?" 



" I cannot come with him, I am afraid," replied the young 

 gentleman, "for I must remain with the regiment some time; 

 but I will willingly accept your invitation, and join him in a 

 week or two." 



"Oh! you're in the same regiment, are you?" asked Mr. 

 Croyland; "it's not a whole regiment of elder sons, I hope?" 



"Oh, no!" answered the other; "I have the still greater 

 misfortune of being an only son ; and the greater one still, of 

 being an orphan." 



" And may I know your style and denomination ?" said 

 Mr. Croyland. 



"Oh! Osborn, Osborn!" cried Sir Edward Digby, before 

 his friend could speak. " Captain Osborn of the - dra- 

 goons." 



"I will put that down in my note-book," rejoined the old 

 gentleman. " The best friend I ever had was named Osborn. 

 He couldn't be your father, though, for he had no children, 



