74 THE SMUGGLER. 



but with a good deal of fun twinkling in the corners of his 

 eyes. 



It was too much for the light heart of Zara Croyland; and 

 holding down her head she laughed outright, although she 

 knew that Mr. Radford had placed himself in the predicament 

 of which her uncle spoke, though he had been relieved of the 

 immediate consequence for some years. 



What would have been the result is difficult to say; for 

 Mr. Radford was waxing wroth ; but at that moment the door 

 was flung hastily open, and a young gentleman entered, of 

 some three or four-and-twenty years of age, bearing a strong 

 resemblance to Mr. Radford, though undoubtedly of a much 

 more pleasant and graceful appearance. He was well dressed, 

 and his coat, lined with white silk of the finest texture, was 

 cast negligently back from his chest, with an air of careless- 

 ness which was to be traced in all the rest of his apparel. 

 Everything he wore was as good as it could be, and every- 

 thing became him ; for he was well formed, and his movements 

 were free and even graceful; but everything seemed to have 

 been thrown on in a hurry, and his hair floated wild and 

 straggling round his brow, as if neither comb nor brush had 

 touched it for many hours. It might have been supposed that 

 this sort of disarray proceeded from haste when he found him- 

 self too late and his father gone ; but there was an expression 

 of reckless indifference about his face which led Sir Edward 

 Digby to imagine that this apparent negligence was the ha- 

 bitual characteristic of his mind, rather than the effect of any 

 accidental circumstance. His air was quite self-possessed, 

 though hurried; and a flashing glance of his eye round the 

 table, resting for a moment longer on Sir Edward Digby than 

 on any one else, seemed directed to ascertain whether the 

 party assembled was one that pleased him, before he chose to 

 sit down to the board with them. He made no apology to Sir 

 Robert Croyland for being too late, but shook hands with him 

 in return for the very cordial welcome he met with, and then 

 seated himself in the vacant chair, nodding to Miss Croyland 

 familiarly, and receiving a cold inclination of the head in re- 

 turn. One of the servants inquired if he would take soup and 

 fish; but he replied abruptly, u No; bring me fish. No soup; 

 I hate such messes." 



In the mean time, by one of those odd turns which some- 



