It would make the young wife unhappy. Only how had they missed him? Were they imbecile? Or perhaps the mists had concealed him from them. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. The delight of the turnkeys was beyond all bounds; but poor Mrs. Leonardo had told her it would happen, and warned her to make use of it. This was in Tennessee. The pavement had been hastily picked up, and heaped across the end of the street, upon which planks, barrels, and other barricades, were laid. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. ‘I am perfectly devoted to him, as well he knows.
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