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each other either by natural channels or by artificial watercourses. As the level of these reservoirs varied considerably according to the nature of the ground, advantage had been taken by art of this natural formation; so that, by embankments, dams, locks, water-gates, mill-ponds, and other engineering contrivances, a large amount of power had been produced and husbanded for the mills that were built in the vicinity of the lakes and streams. Our readers must pardon this slight digression. We return to the two men whom we left on the shore of what was then technically called "the Furnace Pond."

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Between these two men was some degree of similarity; but in other particulars there was a striking difference. They were both young. We have spoken of Carey's years as not exceeding twenty-three. Henry Rivers, or Harry, as he was more familiarly called, or the captain, when his rank in the was referred to, was barely a year older. stature, exceeding the average height by inches, and were well built up with bone, muscle, and sinew, “in manner according;" the countenance of each, moreover, if physiognomy has any foundation in truth, gave pledge of ardent, open, honest sincerity, whether in love or in hatred. Here, however, the likeness ends.

Look at the two men as they stand face to face, and hand clasped in hand. The one, half-naked, as we have already described him, with his broad breast bronzed by exposure to the fierce heat of the forge, and yet more darkened with the evidences of his recent labour, and with hands seared and hardened almost to the consistency of the iron with which they came hourly into close fellowship; the other clad plainly and simply, certainly, yet in costume which denoted, in that day of punctilious regard to rank and station in externals, that the wearer was a gentleman, and accustomed to mingle in society to which his humbler friend was a stranger. It was like the loves of Valentine and

Orson, this meeting of the forgeman and the son of his former master.

But it was in countenance that the dissimilarity was more strongly marked. The forgeman had true Saxon features. The companion now grasping his hand had the oval face and more classical profile, with the short upper lip, which could be fairly traced to a Norman origin; and these signs were strengthened by the black hair, which was now carelessly thrown back from a high, broad forehead, and by the finely arched and glossy eyebrows and long silky lashes that protected the full dark eyes, now swimming with liquid tenderness. Probably he was a little flushed with the exertion of rowing an awkward, heavy pleasureboat, too large to be well managed with a single pair of sculls; or it might be that his meeting with a friend had called up some slight colour to his cheeks. But this colour soon died away, and then it was seen that his cheeks were pallid and too hollow for healthy youth.

"We all thought you had gone abroad, sir; that is, we heard so, and supposed it was true; and if not gone abroad, I expected you would be in London," said Carey, after a protracted silence. "I left London early this morning

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Rode, sir?" interrupted Tom.

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"Yes; my poor old hunter. That is, I rode him down to B—. There I put up at the 'George,' and walked over here. And as to being gone abroad, Tom-well, I have made up my mind to go; but I could not drag myself away without coming to see the old place once more."

"Isn't it a pity, though, sir?" said Tom Carey.

"I do not know; and another thing, I do not much care. A wilful man will have his way, you know." The captain (to give him his honorary title) smiled as he said this. "But one would

almost think you are sorry to see me again.”

"You can't think it, sir

"Sir, sir!" exclaimed Rivers, impatiently; "you didn't use to be so ceremonious, Carey."

"Not before your losses, Master Harry," said Tom.

"You give me another reason for regretting those losses, then; but never mind about them, and call me Harry, as you used to do. This is the last time we may meet for many long years. Perhaps we may never see one another again after this evening."

"I hope it is not so bad as that, Master Harry," responded the forgeman. No, no; you'll come back again after a little while,

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Perhaps; I shall soon know. To-morrow will settle the question. And this reminds me that I must not stay here. I am bound to-night for the Priory; and my aunts keep early hours, you know. But I wished to see you once more, at any rate, to say good-bye, my friend."

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Ay, Master Harry, you will go to the Priory, of course; and, you won't mind having my company, I'll go with you up to the gates. I would go with you farther than that, for love, Harry, if it was to the world's end; but you know what hinders. I can't leave them that would have to be left behind."

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"It is not to be thought of, Tom. Besides, wherever I go, must go alone. I shall have my own way to make, or, more likely, to perish in the attempt."

"You won't do that, sir; there's something tells me you won't do that, Master Harry," said Tom, briskly. "Come, Harry, you must cheer up; you have told me that lesson yourself before now."

"So I have, Tom; but I suppose it is easier to preach than to practise. However, you shall have the opportunity of repeating my wise maxims as we go along, if indeed you intend to walk with me to the Priory. It will be a long walk, Tom; six miles.” "Not longer for me than for you, Master Harry; but you will have to wait a little while till I am ready. I won't be long."

"Be as long as you like. If my aunts are gone to bed, I must rouse them, that's all."

"Won't you step up to the forge, sir ?-Harry, I mean," said Tom. "They'll mostly be glad to see you there. You are not forgotten, I can tell you. They were singing one of your old songs just now, though I couldn't join them."

“I heard it across the water, and—but no; I won't go; I will remain here."

Carey used no further persuasions; perhaps he was rather glad that Harry Rivers did not choose to present himself before his late father's old workmen in his fallen fortunes. So he disappeared, and, a few minutes later, had plunged into the lake, or pond, from another part of its banks, and was washing off the stains of his day's labour. Meanwhile, his companion took from the boat his travelling-cap, which he had thrown off in rowing, and a small valise, upon which he seated himself on the shore; then he quietly waited Tom's return.

Ten minutes sufficed for the forgeman's ablutions; and when he again made his appearance he was bright and ruddy, as well as clad from head to foot.

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"I keep my clothes handy to the washing-place," he said, rejoining the captain; " and now I am ready, Master Harry. I'll carry your pack, if you please."

"No, no; let every man bear his own burden, Tom."

But Tom had hold of "the pack," and would not relinquish it. So they started on their walk to the Priory.

CHAPTER IV.

THE WALK.

It was past seven o'clock when Harry Rivers and his companion left the banks of the furnace pond. By this time the forgemen had discontinued work and departed, and the din of their busy hammers had ceased for that day; only the dashing of the waterfall broke the solemn silence of the autumnal evening. The pond or lake which the two men were leaving behind was deepening in obscurity, and mists were rapidly rising from it, which hid the opposite woods from sight.

A narrow pathway, flanked on each side by tangled brushwood and large patches of fern, led upwards for about fifty yards, steeply from the water's edge, and then, turning to the left hand, skirted the banks of the lake for the space of half a furlong. Along this path the companions passed in Indian file, silent, till they arrived at the now deserted forge. For one moment Rivers slackened his pace, and cast a glance at the building; and then, as though reproaching himself for his weakness, hastened on, followed by Tom Carey, and threaded his way amidst heaps of charcoal, lines of pig iron, piles of bars, and other tokens of busy industry.

Five minutes of brisk walking brought the two men into proximity with the furnace, which, like the forge, was surrounded by its supply of fuel, and the various apparatus and appliances for casting the molten metal, as well as encumbered with immense heaps of rejected scoriæ or iron cinders, from which the metal had been extracted. And as our story will have to return to this spot in a future chapter, it may be as well to pause a moment and describe the furnace as it then appeared.

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