“He is a man of the world,” put in Randal.
“And of feeling and honour,” said the Parson; “and, perhaps, through him, we may be enabled to enlighten Frank, and save him from what appears to be the snare of an artful woman.”
“Meanwhile,” said Randal, “I will seek Frank, and do my best with him. Let me go now—I will return in an hour or so.”
“I will accompany you,” said the Parson.
“Nay, pardon me, but I think we two young men can talk more openly without a third person, even so wise and kind as you.”
“Let Randal go,” growled the Squire. And Randal went.
He spent some time with Frank, and the reader will easily divine how that time was employed. As he left Frank’s lodgings, he found himself suddenly seized by the Squire himself.
“I was too impatient to stay at home and listen to the Parson’s prosing,” said Mr Hazeldean, nervously. “I have shaken Dale off. Tell me what has passed. Oh! don’t fear—I’m a man, and can bear the worst.”
Randal drew the Squire’s arm within his, and led him into the adjacent park.
“My dear sir,” said he, sorrowfully, “this is very confidential what I am about to say. I must repeat it to you, because without such confidence, I see not how to advise you on the proper course to take. But if I betray Frank, it is for his good, and to his own father;—only do not tell him. He would never forgive me—it would for ever destroy my influence over him.”