"Leave off thy courtesies, and tell thy business." The man, who was a native islander, answered in Manx, that he had a letter for his honour, Master Julian Peveril.

Julian snatched the billet hastily, and asked whence it came.
"It was delivered to him by a young woman," the soldier replied, "who had given him a piece of money to deliver it into Master Peveril's own hand." "Thou art a lucky fellow, Julian," said the Earl.

"With that grave brow of thine, and thy character for sobriety and early wisdom, you set the girls a-wooing, without waiting till they are asked; whilst I, their drudge and vassal, waste both language and leisure, without getting a kind word or look, far less a billet-doux." This the young Earl said with a smile of conscious triumph, as in fact he valued himself not a little upon the interest which he supposed himself to possess with the fair sex.
Meanwhile the letter impressed on Peveril a different train of thoughts from what his companion apprehended.

It was in Alice's hand, and contained these few words:-- "I fear what I am going to do is wrong; but I must see you.

Meet me at noon at Goddard Crovan's Stone, with as much secrecy as you may." The letter was signed only with the initials A.B.; but Julian had no difficulty in recognising the handwriting, which he had often seen, and which was remarkably beautiful.