Although we have not yet had our township decorated with a gibbet, the philosophical reader will have discerned by the foregoing chapter that we are advancing with considerable celerity in the way of refinement. The consequences of the ducking did not, however, end with the drying of Mr. Fagotter's clothes, for he has gone to law with the two young men who were busiest in the fray, and expects a satisfactory solatium. I have not, however, had leisure to interfere farther in the business, in consequence of an occurrence still more extraordinary than the discovery of the relationship between Mrs. Paddock and Dungowan.

In the course of the following afternoon Dungowan came to Sylvany; and the moment he entered, I perceived by his countenance that something extraordinary had happened, but without making any remark, I only inquired, with some slight inflexion of emphasis, how all things were proceeding at Stockwell. He made me, however, no answer, his whole mind being evidently absorbed in the matter of his own thoughts.

“There's something in the wind,” whispered Mrs. Corbet aside to me, with her usual sagacity; “what can it be? has Sam done a mischief to any of the Evelyns—that boy's a perfect provocative.”