THE SMUGGLE!?. 7 1 



works. He accordingly laughed and talked with her upon 

 almost every subject in the world during the first part of 

 dinner, skilfully leading her up to the pursuits of her sister and 

 herself in the country, in order to obtain a clear knowledge of 

 their habits and course of proceeding, that he might take ad- 

 vantage of it at an after-period, for purposes of his own. 



The art of conversation, when properly regarded, forms a 

 regular system of tactics in which, notwithstanding the various 

 manoeuvres of your adversary, and the desultory fire kept up 

 by indifferent persons around, you still endeavour to carry tho 

 line of advance in the direction that you wish, and to frustrate 

 every effort to turn it towards any point that may not bo 

 agreeable to you, rallying it here, giving it a bend there; pre- 

 senting a sharp angle at one place, an obtuse one at another; 

 and raising from time to time a barrier or a breastwork for the 

 purpose of preventing the adverse force from turning your 

 flank and getting into your rear. 



But the mischief was, in the present instance, that Sir 

 Edward Digby's breastworks were too low for such an active 

 opponent as Zara Croyland. They might have appeared a 

 formidable obstacle in the way of a scientific opponent; but 

 with all the rash valour of youth, which is so frequently suc- 

 cessful where practice and experience fail, she walked straight 

 up, and jumped over them, taking one line after another, till 

 Sir Edward Digby found that she had nearly got into the 

 heart of his camp. It was all so easy and natural, however, 

 so gay and cheerful, that he could not feel mortified even at 

 his own want of success; and though five times she darted 

 away from the subject, and began to talk of other things, he 

 still renewed it, expatiating upon the pleasures of a country 

 life, and upon how much more rational, as well as agreeable it 

 was, when compared to the amusements and whirl of the 

 town. 



Mr. Zachary Croylaud, indeed, cut across them often, 

 listening to what they said, and sometimes smiling significantly 

 at Sir Edward Digby, or at other times replying himself to 

 what either of the two thought fit to discourse upon. Thus, 

 then, when the young baronet was descanting sagely of the 

 pleasures of the country, as compared with those of the town, 

 good Mr. Croyland laughed merrily, saying, " You will soon 

 have enough of it, Sir Edward ; or else you are only deceiving 



