"'Know her!' exclaimed the farmer, 'Ay, marry do I. Why she is my God-daughter? I've danced her on my knee since she were a kid, bless her heart! And now I remember, I did hear as how one o' them paintin' fellers—limners, they call 'em, was a puttin' up at the 'Headless Lady,' and a paintin' 'er likeness. Well, now, I never!—eh Sally?'
"'Dear me!' remarked the valet, 'How very strange! Really, this is most interesting. Tell me, good man, what part of the country is this you speak of?'
"'What! the hostel of the 'Headless Lady'? Why, at the cross-roads-parish of Littleboro', near Muddleton, on Slush Slopshire.'
"'Ah, in that part, I see. Fine country they tell me, about there. Bracing air, good shooting—eh?' inquired the valet, as he opened his pocket-book and jotted down all the farmer told him.
"'Yes, sir, good air, good shooting, and as fine a bit of country, though I ses it, as shouldn't, seeing as how its my birthplace.'
"Here, the valet took out his watch, and exclaimed, 'God bless my soul! How time flies! Why, it's just upon one o'clock, and I had an appointment at twelve, on urgent business. Good-day, my friend. Good-day, Ma'am,' addressing himself to the farmer's wife, and off he goes.
"'A pleasant, affable gentleman,' remarked the countryman to the wife of his bosom.
"'Ah, just ain't un,' acquiesced his spouse.
"That very day the valet penned a note to his lord and master, who returned to England in a great hurry at the news. You may imagine, my friend, what anxiety I feel, knowing that villain to be at large, and ready at any time to swoop down like a vulture into your peaceful dovecot and carry on his work of destruction, whilst I, being so far away, am unable to strike a blow in her defence. Though, God knows, I would willingly lay down my life, rather than that dear child should come to any harm. I write at once, having only just heard the news. God grant I may be in time for my warning to be of some avail. For all I know, the villain may be there before this letter arrives. I tremble at the thought. He is sure to travel in his own private coach, accompanied by his bully, and, doubtless, both of them will be armed to the teeth. You had better warn Jack Hearty at once, in order that he may put his daughter out of harm's way, until he has taken his departure. His lordship will stick at nothing—even at drugging her, and carrying her off insensible, and being armed, it will be dangerous work to oppose him. I would advise Jack Hearty, as soon as he can find an opportunity to extract the bullets from his horse pistols, for depend upon it he means mischief. This is all the advice I can give him. Do whatever you can to frustrate the plot of this villian, and write me the result. No time for more. With kind remembrances to all your friends, as well as to our worthy host and family,
"Your anxious friend,
"Vandyke McGuilp."