What weather! You must all dine with me at Richmond to-morrow--we will row back." "And a little chicken-hazard, at the M---, afterwards," said Mr.
Marsden, who was an elder, not a better, man than the rest--a handsome, saturnine man--who had just left Oxford, and was already known on the turf.
"Anything you please," said Arthur, making his horse curvet.
Oh, Mr.Robert Beaufort! Mr.Robert Beaufort! could your prudent, scheming, worldly heart but feel what devil's tricks your wealth was playing with a son who if poor had been the pride of the Beauforts! On one side of our pieces of old we see the saint trampling down the dragon.

False emblem! Reverse it on the coin! In the real use of the gold, it is the dragon who tramples down the saint! But on--on! the day is bright and your companions merry; make the best of your green years, Arthur Beaufort! The young men had just entered the suburb of H---, and were spurring on four abreast at a canter.

At that time an old man, feeling his way before him with a stick,--for though not quite blind, he saw imperfectly,--was crossing the road.

Arthur and his friends, in loud converse, did not observe the poor passenger.

He stopped abruptly, for his ear caught the sound of danger--it was too late: Mr.Marsden's horse, hard-mouthed, and high-stepping, came full against him.