"If you journey to the lake, you have mistaken your route," said
Heyward, haughtily; "the highway thither is at least half a mile behind
you."

"Even so," returned the stranger, nothing daunted by this cold
reception; "I have tarried at 'Edward' a week, and I should be dumb not
to have inquired the road I was to journey; and if dumb there would be
an end to my calling." After simpering in a small way, like one whose
modesty prohibited a more open expression of his admiration of
a witticism that was perfectly unintelligible to his hearers, he
continued, "It is not prudent for any one of my profession to be too
familiar with those he has to instruct; for which reason I follow not
the line of the army; besides which, I conclude that a gentleman of
your character has the best judgment in matters of wayfaring; I have,
therefore, decided to join company, in order that the ride may be made
agreeable, and partake of social communion."

"A most arbitrary, if not a hasty decision!" exclaimed Heyward,
undecided whether to give vent to his growing anger, or to laugh in the
other's face. "But you speak of instruction, and of a profession; are
you an adjunct to the provincial corps, as a master of the noble science
of defense and offense; or, perhaps, you are one who draws lines and
angles, under the pretense of expounding the mathematics?"

The stranger regarded his interrogator a moment in wonder; and then,
losing every mark of self-satisfaction in an expression of solemn
humility, he answered:

"Of offense, I hope there is none, to either party: of defense, I make
none--by God's good mercy, having committed no palpable sin since last