, as something beyond the common race of mortals. He had been abroad, had read much, was acquainted with both men and manners, had a plain and rather awkward address, was singular in his expressions, and formed his opinions with a justness and rapidity that astonished those with whom he associated; told a number of good anecdotes with a delicacy and humour peculiar to himself; public places and general society he avoided so cautiously, that he was considered as a misanthrope by those who did not know him intimately.

Lieutenant de Huntingfield was a Humourous bachelor of forty: he professed himself an admirer of the ladies, and pretended to lament that the state of his finances would not permit him to take a wife to his bosom, and increase the ancient family of the De Huntingfields, which, he apprehended, if fortune proved averse to his accomplishing, would become extinct.

Among the rest of the officers was a Cambrian youth, who was a general favourite in the castle. Hugh Camelford was gay, high spirited, thoughtless, and extravagant; but with all so generous and good humoured, it was impossible not to be pleased even with his eccentricities; he rode good horses, gave good dinners, and was always in good spirits. De Clavering and Hugh Camelford were the best friends in the world. The doctor, as he was generally called, had once, during some indisposition, advised him to be bled; but the fiery youth would neither follow his advice nor submit to his entreaties: he was then threatened with death for his obstinacy.

"In Cot's cood time I am ready to die, (said the invalid;) but, if ever I lose one drop of my Welch bloot, put in the service of my country, may my coot name be plasted with the titles of poltroon and coward!"—He saved his Welch blood, and recovered, and De Clavering, though at first somewhat displeased, treated him as a friend and brother ever afterwards.

There was a still more singular character in the castle than any yet described,—Alexander Elwyn. He was placed there as a school for improvement in tactics and all the relative duties of a soldier: he had good connexions, and a genteel allowance; but was a miser at twenty. This sordid humour made him the butt of the garrison, and De Willows, with the rest of the officers, vowed to laugh him out of a habit as disgusting as it was unnatural and unnecessary.

In a few weeks Madeline was so far recovered, as to be removed into one of the state-apartments for the benefit of