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Manning’s handwriting, and opened his letter and read some lines before its import appeared. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste. With this person—who was no other than Mr. "Let me see the earth thrown over her," implored Jack; "and take me where you please. .
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