thought of their being seen, his head felt loose upon his shoulders. But
the future martyr behind him, Mr. Morgan Evans, gave himself up at once
to abject despair, and as he bumped and rolled along, sought vainly for
comfort in professional ejaculations in the Latin tongue.

"Mater intemerata! Eripe me e--Ugh! I am down! Adhaesit pavimento
venter!--No! I am not! El dilectum tuum e potestate canis--Ah! Audisti
me inter cornua unicornium! Put this, too, down in--ugh!--thy account in
favor of my poor--oh, sharpness of this saddle! Oh, whither, barbarous
islanders!"

Now riding on his quarter, not in the rough track-way like a cockney,
but through the soft heather like a sportsman, was a very gallant knight
whom we all know well by this time, Richard Grenville by name; who had
made Mr. Cary and the rest his guests the night before, and then ridden
out with them at five o'clock that morning, after the wholesome early
ways of the time, to rouse a well-known stag in the glens at Buckish, by
help of Mr. Coffin's hounds from Portledge. Who being as good a Latiner
as Campian's self, and overhearing both the scraps of psalm and the
"barbarous islanders," pushed his horse alongside of Mr. Eustace
Leigh, and at the first check said, with two low bows towards the two
strangers--

"I hope Mr. Leigh will do me the honor of introducing me to his guests.
I should be sorry, and Mr. Cary also, that any gentle strangers should
become neighbors of ours, even for a day, without our knowing who they
are who honor our western Thule with a visit; and showing them ourselves
all due requital for the compliment of their presence."

After which, the only thing which poor Eustace could do (especially as