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his way to see his beloved Henry, and not finding him in the house, had arrived, under the convoy of Maurice, at the foot of the hill where his friend had been sitting with Mr. Dalben.

CHAP. IX.

Marten.

"MARTEN! Marten! Marten!" exclaimed Henry, as he darted down the green slope, and threw himself into the extended arms of his friend, whilst Maurice chuckled with delight in the rear of the scene; and Mr. Dalben, who was no less pleased to see the true and ardent expression of affection between these two fine young people, descended slowly down the bank, to be ready to give his welcome the moment. the first ebullitions of joy had subsided.

The graceful bow made by Marten as he drew somewhat back from his friend, was the first notice which Henry received of the approach of Mr. Dalben.

"Marten uncle," said Henry, turning, all beaming with joy, to his uncle. "Marten, Sir," as if the wide world could contain but one Marten-and that was his own Marten.

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"Mr. Marten, you are most welcome," said Mr. Dalben, extending his hand to the young man; most truly rejoiced am I to see you; you are as well known to me, Sir, as if I had lived with you the last seven years. You are no stranger here; even Maurice's face is illuminated by your presence. But run forward, Maurice," continued Mr. Dalben, "tell Kitty to prepare every thing for Mr. Marten's accommodation; and let supper be got ready as soon as possible."

Mr. Dalben then took one offered arm of Marten, and Henry the other; and as they walked towards home, Marten accounted for his appearance by saying, "That having had a few weeks at his command, he had taken a short tour in Wales, and arriving the night before at Hereford, he had secured a place to Malvern, and walked from thence, after having visited the summits of the hills;”—adding, with a smile, "I found that I was no longer a stranger when I had entered your gates, Mr. Dalben, and announced my name at the kitchen door, (where I first presented myself, as being the nearest ;) for I not only saw my old acquaintance, Lily, reposing in high enjoyment before the fire, but was smiled upon most gra

ciously by the housekeeper, whom I well knew as the celebrated Mrs. Kitty, of sweet and savoury memory, (not having forgotten the sundry sausages and cakes which were wont to pass from her fair hand to our supper-board at Clent Green,) and moreover, I was more unequivocally and decidedly welcomed by our friend Maurice, who darted from some of his usual haunts at the sound of my name, and insisted on being my guide to where he supposed his masters might be, adding, that Master Henry would be hugely glad to see me, having done nothing else but talk of me ever since he came home,' (no very profitable subject, by-the-bye, Milner, added the young man ;) but be that as it may, I set out under his convoy, and I had the pleasure to find that he had not the least notion in the world, to use his own phrase, in what direction you had walked. This acknowledgment, however, did not escape him till we had scoured half the country within a mile of the point from which we had started; and then, when we were almost in despair, he proposed to try what might be done by lifting up our voices; and if we gained little else by this," continued Marten, we had the pleasure of awakening a re

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markably fine echo; for after several fainter en

deavours, the lady of the woods finished off by repeating your name, Henry, as plainly as if it had proceeded from your own lips."

Henry looked up at Marten to ascertain how far he had recognized his own voice in unison with the real echo; on which Marten added, "Do you think I don't know your voice, Milner? but I see you are just the same as ever. I can tell you, Mr. Dalben, that under that smooth and quiet exterior, our friend Henry is as ready for a piece of mischief as any young gentleman I have the honour of being acquainted with. It would have delighted him above all things, if I had mistaken his voice for that of echo; he would have let me gone prosing on for the next half hour in commendation of the echoes of your valleys, Mr. Dalben, and then he would have come down upon me with the acknowledgment of the true nature of the voice which uttered his name so clearly. I have often said, and said it to Wellings, and to all of the rest of that crew of blackguards at Clent Green, that if Milner had chosen to have set his wits at them, he would presently have vanquished them all together, with their own weapons."

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'There are some weapons, Mr. Marten,” replied Mr. Dalben, calmly, "which no gentle

man can permit himself to use;" adding, “I am

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