THE SMUGGLER. 375 



and directions from Wardo. Well, I will tell the man, if I see 

 him, though heaven only knows whether that will be the case 

 or not." 



" Sir Henry Layton seems to place great confidence in Mr. 

 Warde," replied Digby, " which I trust may be justified." 



Mr. Croyland looked at him sharply, for a moment, from 

 under his cocked hat, and then exclaimed, "Pish! you are a 

 fool, young man. There, don't look so fierce. I've given 

 over fighting for these twenty years; and, besides, you wouldn't 

 come to the duello with little Zara's uncle, would 'you? Ha, 

 ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha!" and he laughed im- 

 moderately, but splenetically enough at the same time. " But 

 I ought to have put my meaning as a question, not as a pro- 

 position," he continued. " Are you such a fool as not to know 

 the difference between an odd man and a madman, an eccentric 

 man and a lunatic? If so, you had better get away as fast as 

 possible ; for you and I are likely soon to fall out. I under- 

 stand what you mean about Warde, quite well; but I can tell 

 you, that if you think Warde mad, I'm quite as mad as he is, 

 only that his oddities lie all on the side of goodness and philan- 

 thropy, and mine now and then take a different course. But 

 get you gone, get you gone ; you are better than the rest of 

 them, I believe. I do hope and trust you'll marry Zara, and 

 then you'll plague each other's souls to my heart's content.' 5 



He held his hand out as he spoke; and Digby shook it, 

 laughing good-humouredly ; but, ere he had taken ten steps 

 towards the door of the house, through which he had to pass 

 before he could mount his horse, Mr. Croyland called after 

 him. "Digby, Digby! Sir Eddard! Eldest son! I say, 

 how could you be such a fool as not to run that fellow through 

 the stomach when you had him at your feet? You see what a 

 quantity of mischief has come of it, You are all fools together, 

 you soldiers, I think; but it's true, a fool does as well as any- 

 thing else to be shot at. How's your shoulder? Better, I 

 suppose." 



" I have not thought of it for the last two days," replied 

 Digby. 



" Well, that will do," said Mr. Croyland. " Cured by the 

 first intention. There, you may go ; I don't want you. Only, 

 pray tell my brother that I think him as great a rascal as old 

 liadford. He'll know how much that means. One's a weak 



