THE EXPERIENCES OF A BARRISTER, AND

 Confessions of an Attorney. 

 BY SAMUEL WARREN

 1880

CONTENTS. 

THE MARCH ASSIZE

THE NORTHERN CIRCUIT

THE CONTESTED MARRIAGE

THE MOTHER AND SON

"THE WRIT OF HABEAS CORPUS"

ESTHER MASON

THE MARRIAGE SETTLEMENT

THE SECOND MARRIAGE

CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE

"THE ACCOMMODATION BILL"

THE REFUGEE

THE LIFE POLICY

BIGAMY OR NO BIGAMY

JANE ECCLES

"EVERY MAN HIS OWN LAWYER"

THE CHEST OF DRAWERS

THE PUZZLE

THE ONE BLACK SPOT

THE GENTLEMAN BEGGAR

A FASHIONABLE FORGER

THE YOUNG ADVOCATE

A MURDER IN THE TIME OF THE CRUSADES

CONFESSIONS OF AN ATTORNEY. 

THE MARCH ASSIZE. 

Something more than half a century ago, a person, in going along Holborn, might have seen, near the corner of one of the thoroughfares whichdiverge towards Russell Square, the respectable-looking shop of a gloverand haberdasher named James Harvey, a man generally esteemed by hisneighbors, and who was usually considered well to do in the world. Likemany London tradesmen, Harvey was originally from the country. He hadcome up to town when a poor lad, to push his fortune, and by dint ofsteadiness and civility, and a small property left him by a distantrelation, he had been able to get into business on his own account, andto attain that most important element of success in London--"aconnection. " Shortly after setting up in the world, he married a youngwoman from his native town, to whom he had been engaged ever since hisschool-days; and at the time our narrative commences he was the father ofthree children. 

James Harvey's establishment was one of the best frequented of its classin the street. You could never pass without seeing customers going in orout. There was evidently not a little business going forward. Butalthough, to all appearance, a flourishing concern, the proprietor of theestablishment was surprised to find that he was continually pinched inhis circumstances. No matter what was the amount of business transactedover the counter, he never got any richer. 

At the period referred to, shop-keeping had not attained that degreeof organization, with respect to counter-men and cashiers, which nowdistinguishes the great houses of trade. The primitive till was notyet superseded. This was the weak point in Harvey's arrangements; andnot to make a needless number of words about it, the poor man wasregularly robbed by a shopman, whose dexterity in pitching a guineainto the drawer, so as to make it jump, unseen, with a jerk into hishand, was worthy of Herr Dobler, or any other master of the sublimeart of jugglery. 

Good-natured and unsuspicious, perhaps also not sufficiently vigilant, Harvey was long in discovering how he was pillaged. Cartwright, the nameof the person who was preying on his employer, was not a young man. Hewas between forty and fifty years of age, and had been in varioussituations, where he had always given satisfaction, except on the scoreof being somewhat gay and somewhat irritable. Privately, he was a man ofloose habits, and for years his extravagances had been paid for byproperty clandestinely abstracted from his too-confiding master. Slow tobelieve in the reality of such wickedness, Mr. Harvey could withdifficulty entertain the suspicions which began to dawn on his mind. Atlength all doubt was at an end. He detected Cartwright in the very act ofcarrying off goods to a considerable amount. The man was tried at the OldBailey for the offence; but through a technical informality in theindictment, acquitted. 

Unable to find employment, and with a character gone, the liberated thiefbecame savage, revengeful, and desperate. Instead of imputing his fall tohis own irregularities, he considered his late unfortunate employer asthe cause of his ruin; and now he bent all the energies of his darknature to destroy the reputation of the man whom he had betrayed andplundered. Of all the beings self-delivered to the rule of unscrupulousmalignity, with whom it has been my fate to come professionally incontact, I never knew one so utterly fiendish as this discomfitedpilferer. Frenzied with his imaginary wrongs, he formed the determinationto labor, even if it were for years, to ruin his victim. Nothing short ofdeath should divert him from this the darling object of his existence. 

Animated by these diabolical passions, Cartwright proceeded to his work. Harvey, he had too good reason to know, was in debt to persons who hadmade him advances; and by means of artfully-concocted anonymous letters, evidently written by some one conversant with the matters on which hewrote, he succeeded in alarming the haberdasher's creditors. Theconsequences were--demands of immediate payment, and, in spite of thedebtor's explanations and promises, writs, heavy law expenses, ruinoussacrifices, and ultimate bankruptcy. It may seem almost too marvelous forbelief, but the story of this terrible revenge and its consequences is nofiction. Every incident in my narrative is true, and the whole may befound in hard outline in the records of the courts with which a few yearsago I was familiar. 

The humiliated and distressed feelings of Harvey and his family may beleft to the imagination. When he found himself a ruined man, I dare sayhis mental sufferings were sufficiently acute. Yet he did not sit down indespair. To re-establish himself in business in England appearedhopeless; but America presented itself as a scene where industry mightfind a reward; and by the kindness of some friends, he was enabled tomake preparations to emigrate with his wife and children. Towards theend of February he quitted London for one of the great seaports, where hewas to embark for Boston. On arriving there with his family, Mr. Harveytook up his abode at a principal hotel. This, in a man of straitenedmeans, was doubtless imprudent; but he afterwards attempted to explainthe circumstance by saying, that as the ship in which he had engaged hispassage was to sail on the day after his arrival, he had preferredincurring a slight additional expense rather than that his wife--who wasnow, with failing spirits, nursing an infant--should be exposed to coarseassociations and personal discomfort. In the expectation, however, ofbeing only one night in the hotel, Harvey was unfortunately disappointed. Ship-masters, especially those commanding emigrant vessels, were then, asnow, habitual promise-breakers; and although each succeeding sun was tolight them on their way, it was fully a fortnight before the ship stoodout to sea. By that time a second and more dire reverse had occurred inthe fortunes of the luckless Harvey. 

Cartwright, whose appetite for vengeance was but whetted by his firstsuccess, had never lost sight of the movements of his victim; and now hehad followed him to the place of his embarkation, with an eager butundefined purpose of working him some further and more deadly mischief. Stealthily he hovered about the house which sheltered the unconsciousobject of his malicious hate, plotting, as he afterwards confessed, thewildest schemes for satiating his revenge. Several times he made excusesfor calling at the hotel, in the hope of observing the nature of thepremises, taking care, however, to avoid being seen by Mr. Harvey or hisfamily. A fortnight passed away, and the day of departure of theemigrants arrived without the slightest opportunity occurring for thegratification of his purposes. The ship was leaving her berth; most ofthe passengers were on board; Mrs. Harvey and the children, with nearlythe whole of the luggage, were already safely in the vessel; Mr. Harveyonly remained on shore to purchase some trifling article, and to settlehis bill at the hotel on removing his last trunk. Cartwright had trackedhim all day; he could not attack him in the street; and he finallyfollowed him to the hotel, in order to wreak his vengeance on him in hisprivate apartment, of the situation of which he had informed himself. 

Harvey entered the hotel first, and before Cartwright came up, he hadgone down a passage into the bar to settle the bill which he had incurredfor the last two days. Not aware of this circumstance, Cartwright, in thebustle which prevailed, went up stairs to Mr. Harvey's bedroom andparlor, in neither of which, to his surprise, did he find the occupant;and he turned away discomfited. Passing along towards the chiefstaircase, he perceived a room of which the door was open, and that onthe table there lay a gold watch and appendages. Nobody was in theapartment: the gentleman who occupied it had only a few moments beforegone to his bed-chamber for a brief space. Quick as lightning adiabolical thought flashed through the brain of the villain, who had beenbaffled in his original intentions. He recollected that he had seen atrunk in Harvey's room, and that the keys hung in the lock. Aninconceivably short space of time served for him to seize the watch, todeposit it at the bottom of Harvey's trunk, and to quit the hotel by aback stair, which led by a short cut to the harbor. The whole transactionwas done unperceived, and the wretch at least departed unnoticed. 

Having finished his business at the bar, Mr. Harvey repaired to his room, locked his trunk, which, being of a small and handy size, he mounted onhis shoulder, and proceeded to leave the house by the back stair, inorder to get as quickly as possible to the vessel. Little recked he ofthe interruption which was to be presented to his departure. He had gotas far as the foot of the stair with his burden, when he was overtaken bya waiter, who declared that he was going to leave the house clandestinelywithout settling accounts. It is proper to mention that Mr. Harvey hadincurred the enmity of this particular waiter in consequence of having, out of his slender resources, given him too small a gratuity on theoccasion of paying a former bill, and not aware of the second bill beingsettled, the waiter was rather glad to have an opportunity of charginghim with a fraudulent design. In vain Mr. Harvey remonstrated, saying hehad paid for every thing. The waiter would not believe his statement, anddetained him "till he should hear better about it. "

"Let me go, fellow; I insist upon it, " said Mr. Harvey, burning withindignation. "I am already too late. "

"Not a step, till I ask master if accounts are squared. "

At this moment, while the altercation was at the hottest, a terribleringing of bells was heard, and above stairs was a loud noise of voices, and of feet running to and fro. A chambermaid came hurriedly down thestair, exclaiming that some one had stolen a gold watch from No. 17, andthat nobody ought to leave the house till it was found. The landlordalso, moved by the hurricane which had been raised, made his appearanceat the spot where Harvey was interrupted in his exit. 

"What on earth is all this noise about, John?" inquired the landlord ofthe waiter. 

"Why, sir, I thought it rather strange for any gentleman to leave thehouse by the back way, carrying his own portmanteau, and so I was makinga little breeze about it, fearing he had not paid his bill, when all ofa sudden Sally rushes down the stair and says as how No. 17 has missedhis gold watch, and that no one should quit the hotel. "

No. 17, an old, dry-looking military gentlemen, in a particularly highpassion, now showed himself on the scene, uttering terrible threats oflegal proceedings against the house for the loss he had sustained. 

Harvey was stupified and indignant, yet he could hardly help smiling atthe pother. "What, " said he, "have I to do with all this? I have paid foreverything; I am surely entitled to go away if I like. Remember, that ifI lose my passage to Boston, you shall answer for it. "

"I very much regret detaining you, sir, " replied the keeper of the hotel;"but you hear there has been a robbery committed within the last fewminutes, and as it will be proper to search every one in the house, surely you, who are on the point of departure, will have no objections tobe searched first, and then be at liberty to go?"

There was something so perfectly reasonable in all this, thatHarvey stepped into an adjoining parlor, and threw open his trunkfor inspection, never doubting that his innocence would beimmediately manifest. 

The waiter, whose mean rapacity had been the cause of the detention, acted as examiner. He pulled one article after another out of the trunk, and at length--horror of horrors!--held up the missing watch with a lookof triumph and scorn!

"Who put that there?" cried Harvey in an agony of mind which can bebetter imagined than described. "Who has done me this grievous wrong? Iknow nothing as to how the watch came into my trunk. "

No one answered this appeal. All present stood for a moment ingloomy silence. 

"Sir, " said the landlord to Harvey on recovering from his surprise, "I amsorry for you. For the sake of a miserable trifle, you have brought ruinand disgrace on yourself. This is a matter which concerns the honor of myhouse, and cannot stop here. However much it is against my feelings, youmust go before a magistrate. "

"By all means, " added No. 17, with the importance of an injured man. "Apretty thing that one's watch is not safe in a house like this!"

"John, send Boots for a constable, " said the landlord. 

Harvey sat with his head leaning on his hand. A deadly coldperspiration trickled down his brow. His heart swelled and beat as ifit would burst. What should he do? His whole prospects were in aninstant blighted. "Oh God! do not desert a frail and unhappy being:give me strength to face this new and terrible misfortune, " was aprayer he internally uttered. A little revived, he started to his feet, and addressing himself to the landlord, he said, "Take me to amagistrate instantly, and let us have this diabolical plot unraveled. Icourt inquiry into my character and conduct. "

"It is no use saying any more about it, " answered the landlord; "here isBoots with a constable, and let us all go away together to the nearestmagistrate. Boots, carry that trunk. John and Sally, you can follow us. "

And so the party, trunk and all, under the constable as conductor, adjourned to the house of a magistrate in an adjacent street. There the matter seemed so clear a case of felony--robbery in adwelling-house--that Harvey, all protestations to the contrary, wasfully committed for trial at the ensuing March assizes, then but a fewdays distant. 

At the period at which these incidents occurred, I was a young man goingon my first circuits. I had not as yet been honored with perhaps morethan three or four briefs, and these only in cases so slightly productiveof fees, that I was compelled to study economy in my excursions. Insteadof taking up my residence at an inn when visiting ------, a considerableseaport, where the court held its sittings, I dwelt in lodgings kept by awidow lady, where, at a small expense, I could enjoy perfect quietness, free from interruption. 

On the evening after my arrival on the March circuit of the year 17--, Iwas sitting in my lodgings perusing a new work on criminal jurisprudence, when the landlady, after tapping at the door, entered my room. 

"I am sorry to trouble you, sir, " said she; "but a lady has called tosee you about a very distressing law case--very distressing indeed, and a very strange case it is too. Only, if you could be so good asto see her?"

"Who is she?"

"All I know about it is this: she is a Mrs. Harvey. She and her husbandand children were to sail yesterday for Boston. All were on board exceptthe husband; and he, on leaving the large hotel over the way, was takenup for a robbery. Word was in the evening sent by the prisoner to hiswife to come on shore, with all her children and the luggage; and so shecame back in the pilot boat, and was in such a state of distress, that mybrother, who is on the preventive service, and saw her land, took pity onher, and had her and her children and things taken to a lodging on thequay. As my brother knows that we have a London lawyer staying here, hehas advised the poor woman to come and consult you about the case. "

"Well, I'll see what can be done. Please desire the lady to step in. "

A lady was shortly shown in. She had been pretty, and was so still, butanxiety was pictured in her pale countenance. Her dress was plain, butnot inelegant; and altogether she had a neat and engaging appearance. 

"Be so good as to sit down, " said I, bowing; "and tell me all you wouldlike to say. "

The poor woman burst into tears; but afterwards recovering herself, shetold me pretty nearly the whole of her history and that of her husband. 

Lawyers have occasion to see so much duplicity, that I did not all atonce give assent to the idea of Harvey being innocent of the crime ofwhich he stood charged. 

"There is something perfectly inexplicable in the case, " I observed, "andit would require sifting. Your husband, I hope has always borne a goodcharacter?"

"Perfectly so. He was no doubt unfortunate in business; but he got hiscertificate on the first examination; and there are many who wouldtestify to his uprightness. " And here again my client broke into tears, as if overwhelmed with her recollections and prospects. 

"I think I recollect Mr. Harvey's shop, " said I soothingly. "It seemed avery respectable concern; and we must see what can be done. Keep up yourspirits; the only fear I have arises from the fact of Judge A ---- beingon the bench. He is usually considered severe, and if exculpatoryevidence fail, your husband may run the risk of being--transported. " Aword of more terrific import, with which I was about to conclude, stuckunuttered in my throat "Have you employed an attorney?" I added. 

"No; I have done nothing as yet, but apply to you, to beg of you to be myhusband's counsel. "

"Well, that must be looked to. I shall speak to a local agent, to prepareand work out the case; and we shall all do our utmost to get anacquittal. To-morrow I will call on your husband in prison. "

Many thanks were offered by the unfortunate lady, and she withdrew. 

I am not going to inflict on the reader a detailed account of thisremarkable trial, which turned, as barristers would say, on a beautifulpoint of circumstantial evidence. Along with the attorney, a sharp enoughperson in his way, I examined various parties at the hotel, and mademyself acquainted with the nature of the premises. The more weinvestigated, however, the more dark and mysterious--always supposingHarvey's innocence--did the whole case appear. There was not oneredeeming trait in the affair, except Harvey's previous good character;and good character, by the law of England, goes for nothing in oppositionto facts proved to the satisfaction of a jury. It was likewise mostunfortunate that A ---- was to be the presiding judge. This man possessedgreat forensic acquirements, and was of spotless private character; but, like the majority of lawyers of that day--when it was no extraordinarything to hang twenty men in a morning at Newgate--he was a staunchstickler for the gallows as the only effectual reformer and safeguard ofthe social state. At this time he was but partially recovered from a longand severe indisposition, and the traces of recent suffering weredistinctly apparent on his pale and passionless features. 

Harvey was arraigned in due form; the evidence was gone carefullythrough; and everything, so far as I was concerned, was done that mancould do. But at the time to which I refer, counsel was not allowed toaddress the court on behalf of the prisoner--a practice since introducedfrom Scotland--and consequently I was allowed no opportunity to draw theattention of the jury to the total want of any direct evidence of theprisoner's guilt. Harvey himself tried to point out the unlikelihood ofhis being guilty; but he was not a man gifted with dialectic qualities, and his harangue fell pointless on the understandings of the twelvecommon-place individuals who sat in the jury-box. The judge finallyproceeded to sum the evidence, and this he did emphatically _against_ theprisoner--dwelling with much force on the suspicious circumstance of aneedy man taking up his abode at an expensive fashionable hotel; hisfurtive descent from his apartments by the back stairs; the undoubtedfact of the watch being found in his trunk; the improbability of any oneputting it there but himself; and the extreme likelihood that the robberywas effected in a few moments of time by the culprit, just as he passedfrom the bar of the hotel to the room which he had occupied. "If, " saidhe to the jury, in concluding his address, "you can, after all thesecircumstances, believe the prisoner to be innocent of the crime laid tohis charge, it is more than I can do. The thing seems to me as clear asthe sun at noonday. The evidence, in short, is irresistible; and if thejust and necessary provisions of the law are not enforced in such veryplain cases, then society will be dissolved, and security for propertythere will be none. Gentlemen, retire and make up your verdict. "

The jury were not disposed to retire. After communing a few minutestogether, one of them stood up and delivered the verdict: it was_Guilty!_ The judge assumed the crowning badge of the judicialpotentate--the black cap; and the clerk of arraigns asked the prisoner atthe bar, in the usual form, if he had anything to urge why sentence ofdeath should not be passed upon him. 

Poor Harvey! I durst scarcely look at him. As the sonorous words fell onhis ear, he was grasping nervously with shaking hands at the front of thedock. He appeared stunned, bewildered, as a man but half-awakened from ahideous dream might be supposed to look. He had comprehended, though hehad scarcely heard, the verdict; for on the instant, the voice which buta few years before sang to him by the brook side, was ringing through hisbrain, and he could recognize the little pattering feet of his children, as, sobbing and clinging to their shrieking mother's dress, she and theywere hurried out of court The clerk, after a painful pause, repeated thesolemn formula. By a strong effort the doomed man mastered his agitation;his pale countenance lighted up with indignant fire, and firm andself-possessed, he thus replied to the fearful interrogatory:--

"Much could I say in the name, not of mercy, but of justice, why thesentence about to be passed on me should not be pronounced; but nothing, alas! that will avail me with you, pride-blinded ministers of death. Youfashion to yourselves--out of your own vain conceits do youfashion--modes and instruments, by the aid of which you fondly imagine toinvest yourselves with attributes which belong only to Omniscience; andnow I warn you--and it is a voice from the tomb, in whose shadow Ialready stand, which addresses you--that you are about to commit a mostcruel and deliberate murder. "

He paused, and the jury looked into each other's eyes for the couragethey could not find in their own hearts. The voice of conscience spoke, but was only for a few moments audible. The suggestions that what graveparliaments, learned judges, and all classes of "respectability"sanctioned, could not be wrong, much less murderous or cruel, silencedthe "still, small" tones, and tranquilized the startled jurors. 

"Prisoner at the bar, " said the judge with his cold, calm voice ofdestiny, "I cannot listen to such observations: you have been foundguilty of a heinous offence by a jury of your countrymen after a patienttrial. With that finding I need scarcely say I entirely agree. I am assatisfied of your guilt as if I had seen you commit the act with my ownbodily eyes. The circumstance of your being a person who, from habits andeducation, should have been above committing so base a crime, onlyaggravates your guilt. However, no matter who or what you have been, youmust expiate your offence on the scaffold. The law has very properly, forthe safety of society, decreed the punishment of death for such crimes:our only and plain duty is to execute that law. "

The prisoner did not reply: he was leaning with his elbows on the frontof the dock, his bowed face covered with his outspread hands; and thejudge passed sentence of death in the accustomed form. The court thenrose, and a turnkey placed his hand upon the prisoner's arm, to lead himaway. Suddenly he uncovered his face, drew himself up to his fullheight--he was a remarkably tall man--and glared fiercely round upon theaudience, like a wild animal at bay. "My lord, " he cried, or rathershouted, in an excited voice. The judge motioned impatiently to thejailor, and strong hands impelled the prisoner from the front of thedock. Bursting from them, he again sprang forward, and his armsoutstretched, whilst his glittering eye seemed to hold the judgespell-bound, exclaimed, "My lord, before another month has passed away, _you_ will appear at the bar of another world, to answer for the life, the innocent life, which God bestowed upon me, but which you haveimpiously cast away as a thing of naught and scorn!" He ceased, and wasat once borne off. The court, in some confusion, hastily departed. It wasthought at the time that the judge's evidently failing health hadsuggested the prophecy to the prisoner. It only excited a few days'wonder, and was forgotten. 

The position of a barrister in such circumstances is always painful. Ineed hardly say that my own feelings were of a very distressing kind. Conscious that if the unfortunate man really was guilty, he was at leastnot deserving of capital punishment, I exerted myself to procure areprieve. In the first place I waited privately on the judge; but hewould listen to no proposal for a respite. Along with a number ofindividuals--chiefly of the Society of Friends--I petitioned the crownfor a commutation of the sentence. But being unaccompanied with arecommendation from the judge, the prayer of our petition was of coursedisregarded: the law, it was said, must take its course. How much crueltyhas been exercised under shelter of that remorseless expression!

I would willingly pass over the succeeding events. Unable to save hislife, I endeavored to soothe the few remaining hours of the doomedconvict, and frequently visited him in the condemned cell. The more I sawof him, the deeper grew my sympathy in his case, which was that of novulgar felon. "I have been a most unfortunate man, " said he one day tome. "A destiny towards ruin in fortune and in life has pursued me. I feelas if deserted by God and man; yet I know, or at least would persuademyself, that Heaven will one day vindicate my innocence of this foulcharge. To think of being hanged like a dog for a crime at which my soulrevolts! Great is the crime of those imbecile jurors and that false andhard-hearted judge, who thus, by an irreversible decree, consign afellow-mortal to a death of violence and disgrace. Oh God, help me--helpme to sustain that bitter, bitter hour!" And then the poor man wouldthrow himself on his bed and weep. 

But the parting with his wife and children. What pen can describe thatterrible interview! They knelt in prayer, their wobegone countenancessuffused in tears, and with hands clasped convulsively together. Thescene was too harrowing and sacred for the eye of a stranger. I rushedfrom the cell, and buried myself in my lodgings, whence I did not removetill all was over. Next day James Harvey, a victim of circumstantialevidence, and of a barbarous criminal code, perished on the scaffold. 

Three weeks afterwards, the court arrived at a populous city in the westof England. It had in the interval visited another assize town, and thereJudge A ---- had left three for execution. At the trials of these men, however, I had not attended. So shocked had been my feelings with themournful event which had taken place at ------, that I had gone intoWales for the sake of change of scene. After roaming about for afortnight amidst the wild solitudes of Caernarvonshire, I took the stagefor the city which I knew the court was to visit, and arrived on the dayprevious to the opening of the assizes. 

"Well, are we to have a heavy calendar?" I inquired next morning of abrother barrister on entering the court. 

"Rather light for a March assize, " replied the impatient counsel ashe bustled onward. "There's Cartwright's case--highway robbery--inwhich I am for the prosecution. He'll swing for it, and perhaps fouror five others. "

"A good hanging judge is A ----, " said the under-sheriff, who atthis moment joined us, rubbing his hands, as if pleased with theprospect of a few executions. "No chance of the prophecy yonder comingto pass I suppose?"

"Not in the least, " replied the bustling counsel. "He never lookedbetter. His illness has gone completely off. And this day's work willbrighten him up. "

Cartwright's trial came on. I had never seen the man before, and was notaware that this was the same person whom Harvey had incidentally told mehe had discharged for theft; the truth being, that till the last momentof his existence, that unfortunate man had not known how much he had beena sacrifice to this wretch's malice. 

The crime of which the villain now stood accused was that of robbing afarmer of the paltry sum of eight shillings, in the neighborhood ofIlfracombe. He pleaded not guilty, but put in no defence. A verdict wasrecorded against him, and in due form A ---- sentenced him to be hanged. An expression of fiendish malignancy gleamed over the haggard features ofthe felon as he asked leave to address a few words to the court. It wasgranted. Leaning forward, and raising his heavy, scowling eyes to thejudge, he thus began:--"There is something on my mind, my lord--adreadful crime--which, as I am to die for the eight shillings I took fromthe farmer, I may as well confess. You may remember Harvey, my lord, whomyou hanged the other day at--?"

"What of him, fellow?" replied the judge, his features suddenlyflushing crimson. 

"Why, my lord, only this--that he was as innocent of the crime for whichyou hanged him as the child yet unborn! I did the deed! I put the watchin his trunk!" And to the unutterable horror of the entire court herelated the whole particulars of the transaction, the origin of hisgrudge against Harvey, and his delight on bringing him to the gallows. 

"Inhuman, execrable villain!" gasped the judge in extreme excitement. 

"Cleverly done, though! Was it not, my lord?" rejoined the ruffian withbitter irony. "The evidence, you know, was irresistible; the crime asclear as the sun at noonday; and if in such plain cases, the just andnecessary law was not enforced, society would be dissolved, and therewould be no security for property! These were your words, I think. How onthat occasion I admired your lordship's judgment and eloquence! Societywould be dissolved if an innocent man were not hanged! Ha!--ha!--ha!Capital!--capital!" shouted the ferocious felon with demoniac glee, as hemarked the effect of his words on the countenance of the judge. 

"Remove the prisoner!" cried the sheriff. An officer was about to do so;but the judge motioned him to desist. His lordship's features workedconvulsively. He seemed striving to speak, but the words would not come. 

"I suppose, my lord, " continued Cartwright in low and hissing tones, asthe shadow of unutterable despair grew and settled on his face--"Isuppose you know that his wife destroyed herself. The coroner's jury saidshe had fallen accidentally into the water, _I_ know better. She drownedherself under the agonies of a broken heart! I saw her corpse, with thedead baby in its arms; and then I felt, knew, that I was lost! Lost, doomed to everlasting perdition! But, my lord, "--and here the wretchbroke into a howl wild and terrific--"_we_ shall go down together--downto where your deserts are known. A--h--h! that pinches you, does it?Hound of a judge! legal murderer! coward! I spurn and spit upon thee!"The rest of the appalling objurgation was inarticulate, as the monster, foaming and sputtering, was dragged by an officer from the dock. 

Judge A ---- had fallen forwards on his face, fainting and speechlesswith the violence of his emotions. The black cap had dropped from hisbrow. His hands were stretched out across the bench, and various membersof the bar rushed to his assistance. The court broke up in frightfulcommotion. 

Two days afterwards the county paper had the following announcement:--

"Died at the Royal Hotel, ------, on the 27th instant, Judge A ----, froman access of fever supervening upon a disorder from which he hadimperfectly recovered. "

The prophecy was fulfilled!

THE NORTHERN CIRCUIT. 

About the commencement of the present century there stood, near thecentre of a rather extensive hamlet, not many miles distant from anorthern seaport town, a large, substantially-built, but somewhatstraggling building, known as Craig Farm (popularly _Crook_ Farm) House. The farm consisted of about one hundred acres of tolerable arable andmeadow land; and at the time I have indicated, belonged to a farmer ofthe name of Armstrong. He had purchased it about three years previously, at a sale held, in pursuance of a decree of the High Court of Chancery, for the purpose of liquidating certain costs incurred in the suit ofCraig _versus_ Craig, which the said high court had nursed so long andsuccessfully, as to enable the solicitor to the victorious claimant toincarcerate his triumphant client for several years in the Fleet, in"satisfaction" of the charges of victory remaining due after the proceedsof the sale of Craig Farm had been deducted from the gross total. FarmerArmstrong was married, but childless; his dame, like himself, was anative of Devonshire. They bore the character of a plodding, taciturn, morose-mannered couple: seldom leaving the farm except to attend market, and rarely seen at church or chapel, they naturally enough became objectsof suspicion and dislike to the prying, gossiping villagers, to whommystery or reserve of any kind was of course exceedingly annoying andunpleasant. 

Soon after Armstrong was settled in his new purchase another strangerarrived, and took up his abode in the best apartments of the house. Thenew-comer, a man of about fifty years of age, and evidently, from hisdress and gait, a sea-faring person, was as reserved and unsocial as hislandlord. His name, or at least that which he chose to be known by, wasWilson. He had one child, a daughter, about thirteen years of age, whomhe placed at a boarding-school in the adjacent town. He seldom saw her;the intercourse between the father and daughter being principally carriedon through Mary Strugnell, a widow of about thirty years of age, and anative of the place. She was engaged as a servant to Mr. Wilson, andseldom left Craig Farm except on Sunday afternoons, when, if the weatherwas at all favorable, she paid a visit to an aunt living in the town;there saw Miss Wilson; and returned home usually at half-past teno'clock--later rather than earlier. Armstrong was occasionally absentfrom his home for several days together, on business, it was rumored, forWilson; and on the Sunday in the first week of January 1802, both he andhis wife had been away for upwards of a week, and were not yet returned. 

About a quarter-past ten o'clock on that evening the early-retiringinhabitants of the hamlet were roused from their slumbers by a loud, continuous knocking at the front door of Armstrong's house: louder andlouder, more and more vehement and impatient, resounded the blows uponthe stillness of the night, till the soundest sleepers were awakened. Windows were hastily thrown open, and presently numerous footstepsapproached the scene of growing hubbub. The unwonted noise was caused, it was found, by Farmer Armstrong, who accompanied by his wife, wasthundering vehemently upon the door with a heavy black-thorn stick. Still no answer was obtained. Mrs. Strugnell, it was supposed, had notreturned from town; but where was Mr. Wilson, who was almost always athome both day and night? Presently a lad called out that a white sheetor cloth of some sort was hanging out of one of the back windows. Thisannouncement, confirming the vague apprehensions which had begun togerminate in the wise heads of the villagers, disposed them to adopt amore effectual mode of obtaining admission than knocking seemed likelyto prove. Johnson, the constable of the parish, a man of greatshrewdness, at once proposed to break in the door. Armstrong, who, aswell as his wife, was deadly pale, and trembling violently, either withcold or agitation, hesitatingly consented, and crowbars being speedilyprocured, an entrance was forced, and in rushed a score of excited men. Armstrong's wife, it was afterwards remembered, caught hold of herhusband's arm in a hurried, frightened manner, whispered hastily in hisear, and then both followed into the house. 

"Now, farmer, " cried Johnson, as soon as he had procured a light, "leadthe way up stairs. "

Armstrong, who appeared to have somewhat recovered from his panic, dartedat once up the staircase, followed by the whole body of rustics. Onreaching the landing-place, he knocked at Mr. Wilson's bedroom door. Noanswer was returned. Armstrong seemed to hesitate, but the constable atonce lifted the latch; they entered, and then a melancholy spectaclepresented itself. 

Wilson, completely dressed, lay extended on the floor a lifeless corpse. He had been stabbed in two places in the breast with some sharp-pointedinstrument. Life was quite extinct. The window was open. On fartherinspection, several bundles containing many of Wilson's valuables injewelry and plate, together with clothes, shirts, silk handkerchiefs, were found. The wardrobe and a secretary-bureau had been forced open. The assassins had, it seemed, been disturbed, and had hurried off by thewindow without their plunder. A hat was also picked up in the room, ashiny, black hat, much too small for the deceased. The constable snatchedit up, and attempted to clap it on Armstrong's head, but it was notnearly large enough. This, together with the bundles, dissipated asuspicion which had been growing in Johnson's mind, and he roughlyexclaimed, "You need not look so scared, farmer; it's not you: that'squite clear. "

To this remark neither Armstrong nor his wife answered a syllable, butcontinued to gaze at the corpse, the bundles, and the broken locks, inbewildered terror and astonishment. Presently some one asked if any bodyhad seen Mrs. Strugnell?

The question roused Armstrong, and he said, "She is not come home: herdoor is locked. "

"How do you know that?" cried the constable, turning sharply round, andlooking keenly in his face. "How do you know that?"

"Because--because, " stammered Armstrong, "because she always locks itwhen she goes out. "

"Which is her room?"

"The next to this. "

They hastened out, and found the next door was fast. 

"Are you there, Mrs. Strugnell?" shouted Johnson. 

There was no reply. 

"She is never home till half-past ten o'clock on Sunday evenings, "remarked Armstrong in a calmer voice. 

"The key is in the lock on the inside, " cried a young man who had beenstriving to peep through the key-hole. 

Armstrong, it was afterwards sworn, started as if he had been shot;and his wife again clutched his arm with the same nervous, frenziedgripe as before. 

"Mrs. Strugnell, are you there?" once more shouted the constable. He wasanswered by a low moan. In an instant the frail door was burst in, andMrs. Strugnell was soon pulled out, apparently more dead than alive, fromunderneath the bedstead, where she, in speechless consternation, laypartially concealed. Placing her in a chair, they soon succeeded--muchmore easily, indeed, than they anticipated--in restoring her toconsciousness. 

Nervously she glanced round the circle of eager faces that environed her, till her eyes fell upon Armstrong and his wife, when she gave a loudshriek, and muttering, "They, _they_ are the murderers!" swooned, orappeared to do so, again instantly. 

The accused persons, in spite of their frenzied protestations ofinnocence, were instantly seized and taken off to a place of security;Mrs. Strugnell was conveyed to a neighbor's close by; the house wascarefully secured; and the agitated and wondering villagers departed totheir several homes, but not, I fancy, to sleep any more for that night. 

The deposition made by Mrs. Strugnell at the inquest on the body was insubstance as follows:--

"On the afternoon in question she had, in accordance with her usualcustom, proceeded to town. She called on her aunt, took tea with her, andafterwards went to the Independent Chapel. After service, she called tosee Miss Wilson, but was informed that, in consequence of a severe cold, the young lady was gone to bed. She then immediately proceeded homewards, and consequently arrived at Craig Farm more than an hour before her usualtime. She let herself in with her latch key, and proceeded to herbedroom. There was no light in Mr. Wilson's chamber, but she could hearhim moving about in it. She was just about to go down stairs, having putaway her Sunday bonnet and shawl, when she heard a noise, as of personsentering by the back way, and walking gently across the kitchen floor. Alarmed as to who it could be, Mr. And Mrs. Armstrong not being expectedhome for several days, she gently closed her door, and locked it. A fewminutes after, she heard stealthy steps ascending the creaking stairs, and presently her door was tried, and a voice in a low hurried whispersaid, "Mary, are you there?" She was positive it was Mr. Armstrong'svoice, but was too terrified to answer. Then Mrs. Armstrong--she was sureit was she--said also in a whisper, and as if addressing her husband, "She is never back at this hour. " A minute or so after there was a tap atMr. Wilson's door. She could not catch what answer was made; but byArmstrong's reply, she gathered that Mr. Wilson had lain down, and didnot wish to be disturbed. He was often in the habit of lying down withhis clothes on. Armstrong said, "I will not disturb you, sir; I'll onlyjust put this parcel on the table. " There is no lock to Mr. Wilson'sdoor. Armstrong stepped into the room, and almost immediately she heard asound as of a violent blow, followed by a deep groan and then all wasstill. She was paralyzed with horror and affright. After the lapse of afew seconds, a voice--Mrs. Armstrong's undoubtedly--asked in a tremuloustone if "all was over?" Her husband answered "Yes: but where be the keysof the writing-desk kept?" "In the little table-drawer, " was the reply. Armstrong then came out of the bedroom, and both went into Mr. Wilson'ssitting apartment. They soon returned, and crept stealthily along thepassage to their own bedroom on the same floor. They then went downstairs to the kitchen. One of them--the woman, she had no doubt--went outthe back way, and heavy footsteps again ascended the stairs. Almost deadwith fright, she then crawled under the bedstead, and remembered no moretill she found herself surrounded by the villagers. "

In confirmation of this statement, a large clasp-knife belonging toArmstrong, and with which it was evident the murder had been perpetrated, was found in one corner of Wilson's bedroom; and a mortgage deed, for onethousand pounds on Craig Farm, the property of Wilson, and whichStrugnell swore was always kept in the writing-desk in the front room, was discovered in a chest in the prisoner's sleeping apartment, togetherwith nearly one hundred and fifty pounds in gold, silver, and countybank-notes, although it was known that Armstrong had but a fortnightbefore declined a very advantageous offer of some cows he was desirous ofpurchasing, under the plea of being short of cash. Worse perhaps thanall, a key of the back-door was found in his pocket, which not onlyconfirmed Strugnell's evidence, but clearly demonstrated that theknocking at the door for admittance, which had roused and alarmed thehamlet, was a pure subterfuge. The conclusion, therefore, almostuniversally arrived at throughout the neighborhood was, that Armstrongand his wife were the guilty parties; and that the bundles, the brokenlocks, the sheet hanging out of the window, the shiny, black hat, were, like the knocking, mere cunning devices to mislead inquiry. 

The case excited great interest in the county, and I esteemed myselfprofessionally fortunate in being selected to hold the brief for theprosecution. I had satisfied myself, by a perusal of the depositions, that there was no doubt of the prisoners' guilt, and I determined that noeffort on my part should be spared to insure the accomplishment of theends of justice. I drew the indictment myself; and in my opening addressto the jury dwelt with all the force and eloquence of which I was masterupon the heinous nature of the crime, and the conclusiveness of theevidence by which it had been brought home to the prisoners. I may here, by way of parenthesis, mention that I resorted to a plan in my address tothe jury which I have seldom known to fail. It consisted in fixing myeyes and addressing my language to each juror one after the other. Inthis way each considers the address to be an appeal to his individualintelligence, and responds to it by falling into the views of thebarrister. On this occasion the jury easily fell into the trap. I couldsee that I had got them into the humor of putting confidence in theevidence I had to produce. 

The trial proceeded. The cause of the death was scientifically stated bytwo medical men. Next followed the evidence as to the finding of theknife in the bedroom of the deceased; the discovery of the mortgage deed, and the large sum of money, in the prisoners' sleeping apartment; thefinding the key of the back-door in the male prisoner's pocket; and hisdemeanor and expressions on the night of the perpetration of the crime. In his cross-examination of the constable, several facts perfectly new tome were elicited by the very able counsel for the prisoners. Theirattorney had judiciously maintained the strictest secrecy as to thenature of the defence, so that it now took me completely by surprise. Theconstable, in reply to questions by counsel, stated that the pockets ofthe deceased were empty; that not only his purse, but a gold watch, chain, and seals, which he usually wore, had vanished, and no trace ofthem had as yet been discovered. Many other things were also missing. Ayoung man of the name of Pearce, apparently a sailor, had been seen inthe village once or twice in the company of Mary Strugnell; but he didnot notice what sort of hat he generally wore; he had not seen Pearcesince the night the crime was committed; had not sought for him. 

Mary Strugnell was the next witness. She repeated her previous evidencewith precision and apparent sincerity, and then I abandoned her with amixed feeling of anxiety and curiosity, to the counsel for the defence. A subtle and able cross-examination of more than two hours' durationfollowed; and at its conclusion, I felt that the case for theprosecution was so damaged, that a verdict of condemnation was, or oughtto be, out of the question. The salient points dwelt upon, and varied inevery possible way, in this long sifting, were these:--"What was thereason she did not return in the evening in question to her aunt's tosupper as usual?"

"She did not know, except that she wished to get home. "

"Did she keep company with a man of the name of Pearce?"

"She had walked out with him once or twice. "

"When was the last time?"

"She did not remember. "

"Did Pearce walk with her home on the night of the murder?"

"No. "

"Not part of the way?"

"Yes; part of the way. "

"Did Pearce sometimes wear a black, shiny hat?"

"No--yes: she did not remember. "

"Where was Pearce now?"

"She didn't know. "

"Had he disappeared since that Sunday evening?"

"She didn't know. "

"Had she seen him since?"

"No. "

"Had Mr. Wilson ever threatened to discharge her for insolence to Mrs. Armstrong?"

"Yes; but she knew he was not in earnest. "

"Was not the clasp-knife that had been found always left in the kitchenfor culinary purposes?"

"No--not always; generally--but not _this _time that Armstrong went away, she was sure. "

"Mary Strugnell, you be a false-sworn woman before God and man!"interrupted the male prisoner with great violence of manner. 

The outbreak of the prisoner was checked and rebuked by the judge, andthe cross-examination soon afterwards closed. Had the counsel beenallowed to follow up his advantage by an address to the jury, he would, Idoubt not, spite of their prejudices against the prisoners, have obtainedan acquittal; but as it was, after a neutral sort of charge from thejudge, by no means the ablest that then adorned the bench, the jurors, having deliberated for something more than half an hour, returned intocourt with a verdict of "guilty" against both prisoners, accompanying it, however, with a strong recommendation to mercy!

"Mercy!" said the judge. "What for? On what ground?"

The jurors stared at each other and at the judge: they had no reason togive! The fact was, their conviction of the prisoners' guilt had beenvery much shaken by the cross-examination of the chief witness for theprosecution, and this recommendation was a compromise which consciencemade with doubt. I have known many such instances. 

The usual ridiculous formality of asking the wretched convicts what theyhad to urge why sentence should not be passed upon them was gone through;the judge, with unmoved feelings, put on the fatal cap; and then a newand startling light burst upon the mysterious, bewildering affair. 

"Stop, my lord!" exclaimed Armstrong with rough vehemence. "Hear mespeak! I'll tell ye all about it; I will indeed, my lord. Quiet, Martha, I tell ye. It's I, my lord, that's guilty, not the woman. Godbless ye, my lord; not the wife! Doant hurt the wife, and I'se tell yeall about it. I _alone_ am guilty; not, the Lord be praised, of murder, but of robbery!"

"John!--John!" sobbed the wife, clinging passionately to her husband, "let us die together!"

"Quiet, Martha, I tell ye! Yes, my lord, I'se tell ye all about it. I wasgone away, wife and I, for more nor a week, to receive money for Mr. Wilson, on account of smuggled goods--that money, my lord, as was foundin the chest. When we came home on that dreadful Sunday night, my lord, we went in the back way; and hearing a noise, I went up stairs, and foundpoor Wilson stone-dead on the floor. I were dreadful skeared, and letdrop the candle. I called to wife, and told her of it. She screamed out, and amaist fainted away. And then, my lord, all at once the devil shotinto my head to keep the money I had brought; and knowing as the keys ofthe desk where the mortgage writing was kept was in the bedroom, I creptback, as that false-hearted woman said, got the keys, and took the deed;and then I persuaded wife, who had been trembling in the kitchen all thewhile, that we had better go out quiet again, as there was nobody in thehouse but us: I had tried that woman's door--and we might perhaps betaken for the murderers. And so we did; and that's the downright, honesttruth, my lord. I'm rightly served; but God bless you, doant hurt thewoman--my wife, my lord, these thirty years. Five-and-twenty years agocome May, which I shall never see, we buried our two children. Had theylived, I might have been a better man; but the place they left empty wassoon filled up by love of cursed lucre, and that has brought me here. Ideserve it; but oh, mercy, my lord! mercy, good gentlemen!"--turning fromthe stony features of the judge to the jury, as if they could helphim--"not for me, but the wife. She be as innocent of this as a new-bornbabe. It's I! I! scoundrel that I be, that has brought thee, Martha, tothis shameful pass!" The rugged man snatched his life-companion to hisbreast with passionate emotion, and tears of remorse and agony streameddown his rough cheeks. 

I was deeply affected, and felt that the man had uttered the whole truth. It was evidently one of those cases in which a person liable to suspiciondamages his own cause by resorting to a trick. No doubt, by his act oftheft, Armstrong had been driven to an expedient which would not havebeen adopted by a person perfectly innocent. And thus, from one thing toanother, the charge of murder had been fixed upon him and his haplesswife. When his confession had been uttered, I felt a species ofself-accusation in having contributed to his destruction, and gladlywould I have undone the whole day's proceedings. The judge, on thecontrary, was quite undisturbed. Viewing the harangue of Armstrong as amere tissue of falsehood, he cooly pronounced sentence of death on theprisoners. They were to be hanged on Monday. This was Friday. 

"A bad job!" whispered the counsel for the defence as he passed me. "Thatwitness of yours, the woman Strugnell, is the real culprit. "

I tasted no dinner that day: I was sick at heart; for I felt as if theblood of two fellow-creatures was on my hands. In the evening I salliedforth to the judge's lodgings. He listened to all I had to say; but wasquite imperturbable. The obstinate old man was satisfied that thesentence was as it should be. I returned to my inn in a fever of despair. Without the approval of the judge, I knew that an application to theSecretary of State was futile. There was not even time to send to London, unless the judge had granted a respite. 

All Saturday and Sunday I was in misery. I denounced capital punishmentas a gross iniquity--a national sin and disgrace; my feelings of coursebeing influenced somewhat by a recollection of that unhappy affair ofHarvey, noticed in my previous paper. I half resolved to give up the bar, and rather go and sweep the streets for a livelihood, than run the riskof getting poor people hanged who did not deserve it. 

On the Monday morning I was pacing up and down my break fast-room in thenext assize town, in a state of great excitement, when a chaise-and-fourdrove rapidly up to the hotel, and out tumbled Johnson the constable. Histale was soon told. On the previous evening, the landlady of the BlackSwan, a roadside public-house about four miles distant from the scene ofthe murder, reading the name of Pearce in the report of the trial in theSunday county paper, sent for Johnston to state that that person had onthe fatal evening called and left a portmanteau in her charge, promisingto call for it in an hour, but had never been there since. On opening theportmanteau, Wilson's watch, chains, and seals, and other property, werediscovered in it; and Johnson had, as soon as it was possible, set off insearch of me. Instantly, for there was not a moment to spare, I, incompany with Armstrong's counsel, sought the judge, and with somedifficulty obtained from him a formal order to the sheriff to suspend theexecution till further orders. Off I and the constable started, andhappily arrived in time to stay the execution, and deprive thealready-assembled mob of the brutal exhibition they so anxiously awaited. On inquiring for Mary Strugnell, we found that she had absconded on theevening of the trial. All search for her proved vain. 

Five months had passed away; the fate of Armstrong and his wife was stillundecided, when a message was brought to my chambers in the Temple from awoman said to be dying in St. Bartholomew's Hospital. It was MaryStrugnell; who, when in a state of intoxication, had fallen down in frontof a carriage, as she was crossing near Holborn Hill, and had both herlegs broken. She was dying miserably, and had sent for me to make a fullconfession relative to Wilson's murder. Armstrong's account was perfectlycorrect. The deed was committed by Pearce, and they were packing up theirplunder when they were startled by the unexpected return of theArmstrongs. Pearce, snatching up a bundle and a portmanteau, escaped bythe window; she had not nerve enough to attempt it, and crawled back toher bedroom, where she, watching the doings of the farmer through thechinks of the partition which separated her room from the passage, concocted the story which convicted the prisoners. Pearce thinkinghimself pursued, too heavily encumbered for rapid flight, left theportmanteau as described, intending to call for it in the morning, if hisfears proved groundless. He, however, had not courage to risk callingagain, and made the best of his way to London. He was now in Newgateunder sentence of death for a burglary, accompanied by personal violenceto the inmates of the dwelling he and his gang had entered and robbed. Itook care to have the deposition of the dying wretch put into properform; and the result was, after a great deal of petitioning and worryingof authorities, a full pardon for both Armstrong and his wife. They soldCraig Farm, and removed to some other part of the country, where, I nevertroubled myself to inquire. Deeply grateful was I to be able at last towash my hands of an affair, which had cost me so much anxiety andvexation; albeit the lesson it afforded me of not coming hastily toconclusions, even when the truth seems, as it were, upon the surface ofthe matter, has not been, I trust, without its uses. 

THE CONTESTED MARRIAGE. 

I had just escaped to my chambers one winter afternoon from a heavy trial"at bar" in the King's Bench, Westminster, and was poring over a caseupon which an "opinion" was urgently solicited, when my clerk enteredwith a letter which he had been requested to deliver by a lady, who hadcalled twice before during the day for the purpose of seeing me. Vexed atthe interruption, I almost snatched the letter from the man's hand, hastily broke the seal, and to my great surprise found it was from myexcellent old friend Sir Jasper Thornely of Thornely Hall, Lancashire. Itran as follows:--

"My Dear ----, The bearer of this note is a lady whom I am desirous ofserving to the utmost extent of my ability. That she is really the widowshe represents herself to be, and her son consequently heir to themagnificent estates now in possession of the Emsdales--you remember howthey tripped up my heels at the last election for the borough of ------ Ihave no moral doubt whatever; but whether her claim can be legallyestablished is another affair. She will tell you the story herself. Itwas a heartless business; but Sir Harry, who, you have no doubt heard, broke his neck in a steeple-chase about ten months ago, was a sad wilddog. My advice is, to look out for a sharp, clever, persevering attorney, and set him upon a hunt for evidence. If he succeed, I undertake to payhim a thousand pounds over and above his legal costs. He'll nose it outfor that, I should think!--Yours, truly, "Jasper Thornely. 

"P. S. --Emsdale's son, I have just heard--confound theirimpudence!--intends, upon the strength of this accession of property, tostand for the county against my old friend ----, at the dissolution, which cannot now be far off. If you don't think one thousand poundsenough, I'll double it. A cruelly, ill-used lady! and as to her son, he'sthe very image of the late Sir Harry Compton. In haste--J. T. I re-openthe letter to enclose a cheque for a hundred pounds, which you will paythe attorney on account. They'll die hard, you may be sure. If it couldcome off next assizes, we should spoil them for the county--J. T. "

"Assizes"--"county"--"Sir Harry Compton, " I involuntarily murmured, as Ifinished the perusal of my old friend's incoherent epistle. "What onearth can the eccentric old fox-hunter mean?" "Show the lady in, " I addedin a louder tone to the clerk. She presently appeared, accompanied by aremarkably handsome boy about six years of age, both attired in deepmourning. The lady approached with a timid, furtive step and glance, asif she were entering the den of some grim ogre, rather than the quietstudy of a civilized lawyer of mature age. I was at once struck by hersingular and touching loveliness. I have never seen a woman that socompletely realized the highest _Madonna_ type of youthful, matronlybeauty--its starlight radiance and mild serenity of sorrow. Her voice, too, gentle and low, had a tone of patient sadness in it strangelyaffecting. She was evidently a person, if not of high birth, of refinedmanners and cultivated mind; and I soon ceased to wonder at warm-heartedold Sir Jasper's enthusiasm in her cause. Habitually, however, on myguard against first impressions, I courteously, but coldly, invited herfirst to a seat, and next to a more intelligible relation of her businesswith me than could be gathered from the letter of which she was thebearer. She complied, and I was soon in possession of the following factsand fancies:--

Violet Dalston and her sister Emily had lived for several years in closeand somewhat straitened retirement with their father, Captain Dalston, atRock Cottage, on the outskirts of a village about six miles distant fromLeeds, when Captain Dalston, who was an enthusiastic angler, introducedto his home a gentleman about twenty-five years of age, of handsomeexterior and gentlemanly manners, with whom congeniality of tastes andpursuits had made him acquainted. This stranger was introduced to Violet(my interesting client) and her sister, as a Mr. Henry Grainger, the sonof a London merchant. The object of his wanderings through the Englishcounties was, he said, to recruit his health, which had become affectedby too close application to business, and to gratify his taste forangling, sketching, and so on. He became a frequent visitor; and theresult, after the lapse of about three months, was a proposal for thehand of Violet. His father allowed him, he stated, five hundred poundsper annum; but in order not to mortally offend the old gentleman, who wasdetermined, if his son married at all, it should be either to rank orriches, it would be necessary to conceal the marriage till after hisdeath. This commonplace story had been, it appeared, implicitly creditedby Captain Dalston; and Violet Dalston and Henry Grainger were united inholy wedlock--not at the village church near where Captain Dalstonresided, but in one of the Leeds churches. The witnesses were thebride's father and sister, and a Mr. Bilston, a neighbor. This marriagehad taken place rather more than seven years since, and its sole fruitwas the fine-looking boy who accompanied his mother to my office. Mr. Grainger, soon after the marriage, persuaded the Dalstons to leave RockCottage, and take up their abode in a picturesque village in Cumberland, where he had purchased a small house, with some garden and ornamentalgrounds attached. 

Five years rolled away--not, as I could discern, _too_ happily when thevery frequent absences of Violet's husband in London, as he alleged (allher letters to him were directed to the post-office, St. Martin's leGrand--till called for), were suddenly greatly prolonged; and on hisreturn home, after an absence of more than three months, he abruptlyinformed the family that the affairs of his father, who was dying, hadbeen found to be greatly embarrassed, and that nothing was left for himand them but emigration to America, with such means as might be savedfrom the wreck of the elder Grainger's property. After much lamentationand opposition on the part of Emily Dalston and her father, it wasfinally conceded as Violet's husband wished; and the emigration was tohave taken place in the following spring, Henry Grainger to follow themthe instant he could wind up his father's affairs. About three monthsbefore their intended departure--this very time twelvemonth, as nearly asmay be--Captain Dalston was suddenly called to London, to close the eyesof an only sister. This sad duty fulfilled, he was about to return, when, passing towards dusk down St. James Street, he saw Henry Grainger, habited in a remarkable sporting-dress, standing with several othergentlemen at the door of one of the club-houses. Hastening across thestreet to accost him, he was arrested for a minute or so by a line ofcarriages which turned sharply out of Piccadilly; and when he did reachthe other side, young Mr. Grainger and his companions had vanished. Heinquired of the porter, and was assured that no Mr. Grainger, senior orjunior, was known there. Persisting that he had seen him standing withinthe doorway, and describing his dress, the man with an insolent laughexclaimed that the gentleman who wore that dress was the famous sportingbaronet, Sir Harry Compton!

Bewildered, and suspecting he hardly knew what, Captain Dalston, indefiance of young Grainger's oft-iterated injunctions, determined to callat his father's residence, which he had always understood to be inLeadenhall Street. No such name was, however, known there; and anexamination, to which he was advised, of the "Commercial Directory"failed to discover the whereabout of the pretended London merchant. Heart-sick and spirit-wearied, Captain Dalston returned home only to die. A violent cold, caught by imprudently riding in such bitter weather as itthen was, on the outside of the coach, aggravated by distress of mind, brought his already enfeebled frame to the grave in less than two monthsafter his arrival in Cumberland. He left his daughters utterly unprovidedfor, except by the legal claim which the eldest possessed on a man who, he feared, would turn out to be a worthless impostor. The penalty he paidfor consenting to so imprudent a marriage was indeed a heavy and bitterone. Months passed away, and still no tidings of Violet's husband reachedthe sisters' sad and solitary home. At length, stimulated byapprehensions of approaching destitution--whose foot was already on thethreshold--and desirous of gratifying a whim of Emily's, Violet consentedto visit the neighborhood of Compton Castle (the seat, her sister hadascertained, of the "celebrated sporting baronet, " as the porter calledhim) on their way to London, where they had relatives who, though notrich, might possibly be able to assist them in obtaining some decentmeans of maintenance. They alighted at the "Compton Arms, " and the firstobject which met the astonished gaze of the sisters as they entered theprincipal sitting-room of the inn, was a full-length portrait of Violet'shusband, in the exact sporting-dress described to them by their father. An ivory tablet attached to the lower part of the frame informed thegazer that the picture was a copy, by permission, of the celebratedportrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence, of Sir Harry Compton, Baronet. They wereconfounded, overwhelmed, bewildered. Sir Harry, they found, had beenkilled about eight months previously in a steeple-chase; and the castleand estates had passed, in default of direct issue, to a distantrelative, Lord Emsdale. Their story was soon bruited about; and, in theopinion of many persons, was confirmed beyond reasonable question by theextraordinary likeness they saw or fancied between Violet's son and thedeceased baronet. Amongst others, Sir Jasper Thornely was a firm believerin the identity of Henry Grainger and Sir Harry Compton; butunfortunately, beyond the assertion of the sisters that the portrait ofSir Harry was young Grainger's portrait, the real or imaginary likenessof the child to his reputed father, and some score of letters addressedto Violet by her husband, which Sir Jasper persisted were in Sir Harry'shandwriting, though few others did (the hand, I saw at a glance, was adisguised one), not one tittle of evidence had he been able to procurefor love or money. As a last resource, he had consigned the case to me, and the vulpine sagacity of a London attorney. 

I suppose my countenance must be what is called a "speaking" one, for Ihad made no reply in words to this statement of a case upon which I anda "London attorney" were to ground measures for wresting a magnificentestate from the clutch of a powerful nobleman, and by "next assizes"too--when the lady's beautiful eyes filled with tears, and turning to herchild, she murmured in that gentle, agitating voice of hers, "My poorboy. " The words I was about to utter died on my tongue, and I remainedsilent for several minutes. After all, thought I, this lady is evidentlysincere in her expressed conviction that Sir Harry Compton was herhusband. If her surmise be correct, evidence of the truth may perhaps beobtained by a keen search for it; and since Sir Jasper guarantees theexpenses--I rang the bell. "Step over to Cursitor Street, " said I to theclerk as soon as he entered; "and if Mr. Ferret is within, ask him tostep over immediately. " Ferret was just the man for such a commission. Indefatigable, resolute, sharp-witted, and of a ceaseless, remorselessactivity, a secret or a fact had need be very profoundly hidden for himnot to reach and fish it up. I have heard solemn doubts expressed byattorneys opposed to him as to whether he ever really and truly slept atall--that is, a genuine Christian sleep, as distinguished from a merelycanine one, with one eye always half open. Mr. Ferret had been for manyyears Mr. Simpkins' managing clerk; but ambition, and the increasingrequirements of a considerable number of young Ferrets, determined him oncommencing business on his own account; and about six months previous tothe period of which I am now writing, a brass door-plate in CursitorStreet, Chancery Lane, informed the public that Samuel Ferret, Esq. , Attorney-at-Law, might be consulted within. 

Mr. Samuel Ferret was fortunately at home; and after a very briefinterval, made his appearance, entering with a short professional bow tome, and a very profound one to the lady, in whom his quick gray eyeseemed intuitively to espy a client. As soon as he was seated, I handedhim Sir Jasper's letter. He perused it carefully three times, examinedthe seal attentively, and handed it back with--"An excellent letter asfar as it goes, and very much to the point. You intend, I suppose, that Ishould undertake this little affair?"

"Yes, if, after hearing the lady's case, you feel disposed toventure upon it. "

Mr. Samuel Ferret's note-book was out in an instant; and the lady, uninterrupted by a syllable from him, re-told her story. 

"Good, very good, as far as it goes, " remarked undismayed Samuel Ferretwhen she concluded; "only it can scarcely be said to go very far. Moralpresumption, which, in our courts unfortunately, isn't worth a groat. Never mind. _Magna est veritas_, and so on. When, madam, did you say SirHarry--Mr. Grainger--first began to urge emigration?"

"Between two and three years ago. "

"Have the goodness, if you please, to hand me the baronetage. " I did so. "Good, " resumed Ferret, after turning over the leaves for a few seconds, "very good, as far as it goes. It is now just two years and eight monthssince Sir Harry succeeded his uncle in the title and estates. You wouldno doubt soon have heard, madam, that your husband was dead. Truly theheart of man is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; andyet such conduct towards such a lady"--Ferret intended no merecompliment; he was only giving utterance to the thoughts passing throughhis brain; but his client's mounting color warned him to change thetopic, which he very adroitly did. "You intend, of course, " said he, addressing me, "to proceed at law? No rumble--tumble through thespiritual courts?"

"Certainly, if sufficient evidence to justify such a course can beobtained. "

"Exactly: Doe, demise of Compton, _versus_ Emsdale; action in ejectment, judgment of ouster. Our friend Doe, madam--a very accommodating fellow isDoe--will, if we succeed, put you in possession as natural guardian ofyour son. Well, sir, " turning to me, "I may as well give you anacknowledgment for that cheque. I undertake the business, and shall, ifpossible, be off to Leeds by this evening's mail. " The acknowledgment wasgiven, and Mr. Ferret, pocketing the cheque, departed in high glee. 

"The best man, madam, in all broad London, " said I in answer to Mrs. Grainger's somewhat puzzled look, "you could have retained. Fond as heseems, and in fact is, of money--what sensible person is not?--LordEmsdale could not bribe him with his earldom, now that he is fairlyengaged in your behalf, I will not say to betray you, but to abate hisindefatigable activity in furtherance of your interests. Attorneys, madam, be assured, whatever nursery tales may teach, have, the verysharpest of them, their points of honor. " The lady and her son departed, and I turned again to the almost forgotten "case. "

Three weeks had nearly glided by, and still no tidings of Mr. Ferret. Mrs. Grainger, and her sister Emily Dalston, a very charming person, hadcalled repeatedly; but as I of course had nothing to communicate, theywere still condemned to languish under the heart-sickness caused by hopedeferred. At last our emissary made his wished-for appearance. 

"Well, Mr. Ferret, " said I, on entering my library, where I found himcomposedly awaiting my arrival, "what success?"

"Why, nothing of much consequence as yet, " replied he; "I am, you know, only, as it were, just commencing the investigation. The Leeds parsonthat married them is dead, and the old clerk is paralytic, and has losthis memory. If, however, they were both alive, and in sound health ofmind and body, they could, I fancy, help us but little, as Bilston tellsme neither the Dalstons nor Grainger had ever entered the church till themorning of the wedding; and they soon afterwards removed to Cumberland, so that it is scarcely possible either parson or clerk could prove thatViolet Dalston was married to Sir Harry Compton. A very intelligentfellow is Bilston: he was present at the marriage, you remember; and aglorious witness, if he had only something of importance to depose to;powdered hair and a pigtail, double chin, and six feet in girth at least;highly respectable--capital witness, very--only, unfortunately, he canonly testify that a person calling himself Grainger married VioletDalston; not much in that!"

"So, then, your three weeks' labor has been entirely thrown away!"

"Not so fast--not so fast--you jump too hastily at conclusions. TheCumberland fellow that sold Grainger the house--only the equity ofredemption of it, by the way--there's a large mortgage on it--can provenothing. Nobody about there can, except the surgeon; _he_ can prove Mrs. Grainger's _accouchement_--that is something. I have been killing myselfevery evening this last week with grog and tobacco smoke at the "ComptonArms, " in the company of the castle servants, and if the calves' heads_had_ known anything essential, I fancy I should have wormed it out ofthem. They have, however, kindly furnished me with a scrawl ofintroduction to the establishment now in town, some of whom I shall havethe honor to meet, in the character of an out-and-out liberal sportinggentleman, at the "Albemarle Arms" this evening. I want to get hold ofhis confidential valet, if he had one--those go-a-head fellows generallyhave--a Swiss, or some other foreign animal. "

"Is this all?"

"Why, no, " rejoined Ferret, with a sharp twinkle of his sharp gray eye, amounting almost to a wink; "there is one circumstance which I cannothelp thinking, though I scarcely know why, will put us, by the help ofpatience and perseverance, on the right track. In a corner of theregistry of marriage there is written Z. Z. In bold letters. In no otherpart of the book does this occur. What may that mean?"

"Had the incumbent of the living a curate at the time?"

"No. On that point I am unfortunately too well satisfied. Neither arethere any names with such initials in any of the Leeds churchyards. Stillthis Z. Z. May be of importance, if we could but discover who he is. Buthow?--that is the question. Advertise? Show our hands to the oppositeplayers, and find if Z. Z. Is really an entity, and likely to be ofservice, that when we want him in court, he is half way to America. No, no; that would never do. "

Mr. Ferret I saw was getting into a brown study; and as I hadpressing business to despatch, I got rid of him as speedily as Icould, quite satisfied, spite of Z. Z. , that Mrs. Grainger's chance ofbecoming Lady Compton was about equal to mine of ascending theBritish throne some fine day. 

Two days afterwards I received the following note:--

"Dear Sir--Z. Z. Is the man! I'm off to Shropshire. Back, if possible, theday after to-morrow. Not a word even to the ladies. Huzza! In haste, Samuel Ferret. "

What could this mean? Spite of Mr. Ferret's injunction, I could not helpinforming the sisters, who called soon after I received the note, that adiscovery, esteemed of importance by our emissary, had been made; andthey returned home with lightened hearts, after agreeing to repeat theirvisit on the day Mr. Ferret had named for his return. 

On reaching my chambers about four o'clock in the afternoon of that day, I found the ladies there, and in a state of great excitement. Mr. Ferret, my clerk had informed them, had called twice, and seemed in the highestspirits. We had wasted but a few minutes in conjectures when Mr. Ferret, having ascended the stairs two or three at a time, burst, _sanscérémonie_, into the apartment. 

"Good-day, sir. Lady Compton, your most obedient servant; madam, yours!All right! Only just in time to get the writ sealed; served it myself aquarter of an hour ago, just as his lordship was getting into hiscarriage. Not a day to lose; just in time. Capital! Glorious!"

"What do you mean, Mr. Ferret?" exclaimed Emily Dalston: her sister wastoo agitated to speak. 

"What do I mean? Let us all four step, sir, into your inner sanctum, andI'll soon tell you what I mean. "

We adjourned, accordingly, to an inner and more private room. Ourconference lasted about half an hour, at the end of which the ladiestook their leave: Lady Compton, her beautiful features alternatelyirradiated and clouded by smiles and tears, murmuring in a broken, agitated voice, as she shook hands with me, "You see, sir, he intendedat last to do us justice. "

The news that an action had been brought on behalf of an infant son ofthe late Sir Harry Compton against the Earl of Emsdale, for the recoveryof the estates in the possession of that nobleman, produced the greatestexcitement in the part of the county where the property was situated. Theassize town was crowded, on the day the trial was expected to come on, bythe tenantry of the late baronet and their families, with whom thepresent landlord was by no means popular. As I passed up the principalstreet, towards the court-house, accompanied by my junior, I was receivedwith loud hurraings and waving of handkerchiefs, something after themanner, I suppose, in which chivalrous steel-clad knights, about to dobattle in behalf of distressed damsels, were formerly received by themiscellaneous spectators of the lists. Numerous favors, cockades, streamers, of the Compton colors, used in election contests, purple andorange, were also slyly exhibited, to be more ostentatiously displayed ifthe Emsdale party should be beaten. On entering the court, I found itcrowded, as we say, to the ceiling. Not only every seat, but every inchof standing-room that could be obtained, was occupied, and it was withgreat difficulty the ushers of the court preserved a sufficiently clearspace for the ingress and egress of witnesses and counsel. Lord Emsdale, pale and anxious, spite of manifest effort to appear contemptuouslyindifferent, sat near the judge, who had just entered the court. TheArchbishop of York, whom we had subpoenaed, why, his Grace had openlydeclared, he knew not, was also of course accommodated with a seat on thebench. A formidable bar, led by the celebrated Mr. S ----, was, I saw, arrayed against us, though what the case was they had to meet, so wellhad Ferret kept his secret, they knew no more than did their horse-hairwigs. Ferret had solemnly enjoined the sisters to silence, and no hint, Ineed scarcely say, was likely to escape my lips. The jury, special ofcourse, were in attendance, and the case, "Doe, demise of Compton_versus_ Emsdale, " having been called, they were duly sworn to try theissue. My junior, Mr. Frampton, was just rising "to state the case, " asit is technically called, when a tremendous shouting, rapidly increasingin volume and distinctness, and mingled with the sound of carriagewheels, was heard approaching, and presently Mr. Samuel Ferret appeared, followed by Lady Compton and her son, the rear of the party brought up bySir Jasper Thornely, whose jolly fox-hunting face shone like a full-blownpeony. The lady, though painfully agitated, looked charmingly; and thetimid, appealing glance she unconsciously, as it were, threw round thecourt, would, in a doubtful case, have secured a verdict. "Very well gotup, indeed, " said Mr. S ----, in a voice sufficiently loud for the juryto hear--"very effectively managed, upon my word. " We were, however, intoo good-humor to heed taunts; and as soon as silence was restored, Mr. Frampton briefly stated the case, and I rose to address the jury. Myspeech was purposely brief, business-like, and confident. I detailed thecircumstances of the marriage of Violet Dalston, then only eighteen yearsof age, with a Mr. Grainger; the birth of a son; and subsequentdisappearance of the husband; concluding by an assurance to the jury thatI should prove, by incontrovertible evidence, that Grainger was no otherperson than the late Sir Harry Compton, baronet. This address by no meanslessened the vague apprehensions of the other side. A counsel that, with such materials for eloquence, disdained having recourse to it, mustneeds have a formidable case. The smiling countenances of Mr. S ---- andhis brethren became suddenly overcast, and the pallor and agitation ofLord Emsdale sensibly increased. 

We proved our case clearly, step by step: the marriage, the accouchement, the handwriting of Grainger--Bilston proved this--to the lettersaddressed to his wife, were clearly established. The register of themarriage was produced by the present clerk of the Leeds church; theinitials Z. Z. Were pointed out; and at my suggestion the book wasdeposited for the purposes of the trial with the clerk of the court. Nota word of cross-examination had passed the lips of our learned friends onthe other side: they allowed our evidence to pass as utterly indifferent. A change was at hand. 

Our next witness was James Kirby, groom to the late baronet and to thepresent earl. After a few unimportant questions, I asked him if he hadever seen that gentleman before, pointing to Mr. Ferret, who stood up forthe more facile recognition of his friend Kirby. 

"Oh yes, he remembered the gentleman well; and a very nice, good-natured, soft sort of a gentleman he was. He treated witness at the "AlbemarleArms, " London, to as much brandy and water as he liked, out of respect tohis late master, whom the gentleman seemed uncommon fond of. "

"Well, and what return did you make for so much liberality?"

"Return! very little I do assure ye. I told un how many horses Sir Harrykept, and how many races he won; but I couldn't tell un much more, pumpas much as he would, because, do ye see, I didn't _know_ no more. "

An audible titter from the other side greeted the witness as he utteredthe last sentence. Mr. S ----, with one of his complacent glances at thejury-box, remarking in a sufficiently loud whisper, "That he had neverheard a more conclusive reason for not telling in his life. "

"Did you mention that you were present at the death of the late baronet?"

"Yes I did. I told un that I were within about three hundred red yardsof late master when he had that ugly fall; and that when I got up toun, he sort of pulled me down, and whispered hoarse-like, 'Send forReverend Zachariah Zimmerman. ' I remembered it, it was sich anoutlandish name like. "

"Oh, oh, " thought I, as Mr. S ---- reached across the table for theparish register, "Z. Z. Is acquiring significance I perceive. "

"Well, and what did this gentleman say to that?"

"Say? Why, nothing particular, only seemed quite joyful 'mazed like; andwhen I asked un why, he said it was such a comfort to find his goodfriend Sir Harry had such pious thoughts in his last moments. "

The laugh, quickly suppressed, that followed these words, did not comefrom our learned friends on the other side. 

"Sir Harry used those words?"

"He did; but as he died two or three minutes after, it were of course nouse to send for no parson whatsomever. "

"Exactly. That will do, unless the other side have any questions to ask. "No question _was_ put, and the witness went down. "Call, " said I to thecrier of the court--"call the Reverend Zachariah Zimmerman. "

This was a bomb-shell. Lord Emsdale, the better to conceal his agitation, descended from the bench and took his seat beside his counsel. TheReverend Zachariah Zimmerman, examined by Mr. Frampton, deponed insubstance as follows:--"He was at present rector of Dunby, Shropshire, and had been in holy orders more than twenty years. Was on a visit to theReverend Mr. Cramby at Leeds seven years ago, when one morning Mr. Cramby, being much indisposed, requested him to perform the marriageceremony for a young couple then waiting in church. He complied, andjoined in wedlock Violet Dalston and Henry Grainger. The bride was thelady now pointed out to him in court; the bridegroom he had discovered, about two years ago, to be no other than the late Sir Harry Compton, baronet. The initials Z. Z. Were his, and written by him. The parishclerk, a failing old man, had not officiated at the marriage; a nephew, he believed, had acted for him, but he had entered the marriage in theusual form afterwards. "

"How did you ascertain that Henry Grainger was the late Sir HarryCompton?"

"I was introduced to Sir Harry Compton in London, at the house of theArchbishop of York, by his Grace himself. "

"I remember the incident distinctly, Mr. Zimmerman, " said his Grace fromthe bench. 

"Besides which, " added the rector, "my present living was presented tome, about eighteen months since, by the deceased baronet. I must further, in justice to myself, explain that I immediately after the introduction, sought an elucidation of the mystery from Sir Harry; and he then told methat, in a freak of youthful passion, he had married Miss Dalston in thename of Grainger, fearing his uncle's displeasure should it reach hisears; that his wife had died in her first confinement, after giving birthto a still-born child, and he now wished the matter to remain inoblivion. He also showed me several letters, which I then believedgenuine, confirming his story. I heard no more of the matter till waitedupon by the attorney for the plaintiff, Mr. Ferret. "

A breathless silence prevailed during the delivery of this evidence. Atits conclusion, the dullest brain in court comprehended that the causewas gained; and a succession of cheers, which could not be suppressed, rang through the court, and were loudly echoed from without. Sir Jasper'svoice sounding high above all the rest. Suddenly, too, as if by magic, almost everybody in court, save the jury and counsel, were decorated withorange and purple favors, and a perfect shower of them fell at the feetand about the persons of Lady Compton, her sister, who had by this timejoined her, and the infant Sir Henry. As soon as the expostulations andmenaces of the judge had restored silence and order, his lordship, addressing Lord Emsdale's senior counsel, said, "Well, Brother S ----, what course do you propose to adopt ?"

"My lord, " replied Mr. S ---- after a pause, "I and my learned friendshave thought it our duty to advise Lord Emsdale that further oppositionto the plaintiff's claim would prove ultimately futile; and I havetherefore to announce, my lord and gentlemen of the jury, that weacquiesce in a verdict for the plaintiff. "

"You have counseled wisely, " replied his lordship. "Gentlemen of thejury, you will of course return a verdict for the plaintiff. "

The jury hastily and joyfully assented: the verdict was recorded, and thecourt adjourned for an hour in the midst of tumultuous excitement. Theresult of the trial flew through the crowd outside like wildfire; andwhen Lady Compton and her son, after struggling through thedensely-crowded court, stepped into Sir Jasper's carriage, which was inwaiting at the door, the enthusiastic uproar that ensued--the hurrahing, shouting, waving of hats and handkerchiefs--deafened and bewildered one;and it was upwards of an hour ere the slow-moving chariot reached SirJasper's mansion, though not more than half a mile distant from the town. Mr. Ferret, mounted on the box, and almost smothered in purple andorange, was a conspicuous object, and a prime favorite with the crowd. The next day Lord Emsdale, glad, doubtless, to quit the neighborhood asspeedily as possible, left the castle, giving Lady Compton immediatepossession. The joy of the tenantry was unbounded, and under the wakefulsuperintendence of Mr. Ferret, all claims against Lord Emsdale forreceived rents, dilapidations, &c. Were adjusted, we may be sure, _not_adversely to his client's interests; though he frequently complained, nothalf so satisfactorily as if Lady Compton had not interfered, with whatMr. Ferret deemed misplaced generosity in the matter. 

As I was obliged to proceed onwards with the circuit, I called at ComptonCastle to take leave of my interesting and fortunate client a few daysafter her installation there. I was most gratefully received andentertained. As I shook hands at parting, her ladyship, after pressingupon me a diamond ring of great value, said, whilst her charming eyesfilled with regretful, yet joyful tears, "Do not forget that poor Henryintended at last to do us justice. " Prosperity, thought I, will not spoilthat woman. It _has_ not, as the world, were I authorized to communicateher _real_ name, would readily acknowledge. 

THE MOTHER AND SON. 

Dinner had been over about half an hour one Sunday afternoon. --the onlyday on which for years I had been able to enjoy a dinner--and I wasleisurely sipping a glass of wine, when a carriage drove rapidly up tothe door, a loud _rat-tat_ followed, and my friend Dr. Curteis, to mygreat surprise, was announced. 

"I have called, " said the doctor as we shook hands, "to ask you toaccompany me to Mount Place. I have just received a hurried note fromMiss Armitage, stating that her mother, after a very brief illness, israpidly sinking, and requesting my attendance, as well as that of a legalgentleman, immediately. "

"Mrs. Armitage!" I exclaimed, inexpressibly shocked. "Why, it is scarcelymore than a fortnight ago that I met her at the Rochfords' in brillianthealth and spirits. "

"Even so. But will you accompany me? I don't know where to find any oneelse for the moment, and time presses. "

"It is an attorney, probably, rather than a barrister, that is needed;but under the circumstances, and knowing her as I do, I cannot hesitate. "

We were soon bowling along at a rapid pace, and in little more than anhour reached the dying lady's residence, situated in the county of Essex, and distant about ten miles from London. We entered together; and Dr. Curteis, leaving me in the library, proceeded at once to the sickchamber. About ten minutes afterwards the housekeeper, a tall, foreign-looking, and rather handsome woman, came into the room, andannounced that the doctor wished to see me. She was deadly pale, and, Iobserved, trembled like an aspen. I motioned her to precede me; and she, with unsteady steps, immediately led the way. So great was her agitation, that twice, in ascending the stairs, she only saved herself from fallingby grasping the banister-rail. The presage I drew from the exhibition ofsuch overpowering emotion, by a person whom I knew to have been long notonly in the service, but in the confidence of Mrs. Armitage, was soonconfirmed by Dr. Curteis, whom we met coming out of the chamber of theexpiring patient. 

"Step this way, " said he, addressing me, and leading to an adjoiningapartment. "We do not require your attendance, Mrs. Bourdon, " said he, assoon as we reached it, to the housekeeper, who had swiftly followed us, and now stood staring with eager eyes in the doctor's face, as if lifeand death hung on his lips. "Have the goodness to leave us, " he addedtartly, perceiving she did not stir, but continued her fearful, scrutinizing glance. She started at his altered tone, flushed crimson, then paled to a chalky whiteness, and muttering, left the apartment. 

"The danger of her mistress has bewildered her, " I remarked. 

"Perhaps so, " remarked Dr. Curteis. "Be that as it may, Mrs. Armitage isbeyond all human help. In another hour she will be, as we say, no more. "

"I feared so. What is the nature of her disorder?"

"A rapid wasting away, as I am informed. The appearances presented arethose of a person expiring of atrophy, or extreme emaciation. "

"Indeed. And so sudden too!"

"Yes. I am glad you are come, although your professional services willnot, it seems, be required--a neighboring attorney having performed thenecessary duty--something, I believe, relative to the will of the dyinglady. We will speak further together by and by. In the meantime, "continued Dr. Curteis, with a perceptible tremor in his voice, "it willdo neither of us any harm to witness the closing scene of the life ofMary Rawdon, whom you and I twenty years ago worshipped as one of thegentlest and most beautiful of beings with which the Creator ever gracedhis universe. It will be a peaceful parting. Come. "

Just as, with noiseless footsteps, we entered the silent death-chamber, the last rays of the setting sun were falling upon the figure of EllenArmitage--who knelt in speechless agony by the bedside of her expiringparent--and faintly lighting up the pale, emaciated, sunken features ofthe so lately brilliant, courted Mrs. Armitage! But for the ineffaceablesplendor of her deep-blue eyes, I should scarcely have recognized her. Standing in the shadow, as thrown by the heavy bed-drapery, we gazed andlistened unperceived. 

"Ellen, " murmured the dying lady, "come nearer to me. It is growingdark, and I cannot see you plainly. Now, then, read to me, beginning atthe verse you finished with, as good Dr. Curteis entered. Ay, " shefaintly whispered, "it is thus, Ellen, with thy hand clasped in mine, and with the words of the holy book sounding from thy dear lips, that Iwould pass away!"

Ellen, interrupted only by her blinding tears, making sad stops, complied. Twilight stole on, and threw its shadow over the solemn scene, deepening its holiness of sorrow. Night came with all her train; and thesilver radiance kissed into ethereal beauty the pale face of the weepinggirl, still pursuing her sad and sacred task. We hesitated to disturb, bythe slightest movement the repose of a death-bed over which belief andhope, those only potent ministers, shed light and calm! At length Dr. Curteis advanced gently towards the bed, and taking the daughter's hand, said in a low voice, "Had you not better retire, my dear young lady, fora few moments?" She understood him, and rising from her knees, threwherself in an ecstacy of grief upon the corpse, from which the spirit hadjust passed away. Assistance was summoned, and the sobbing girl was bornefrom the chamber. 

I descended, full of emotion, to the library, where Dr. Curteis promisedshortly to join me. Noiselessly entering the room, I came suddenly uponthe housekeeper and a tall young man, standing with their backs towardsme in the recesses of one of the windows, and partly shrouded by theheavy cloth curtains. They were evidently in earnest conference, andseveral words, the significance of which did not at the moment strike me, reached my ears before they perceived my approach. The instant they didso, they turned hastily round, and eyed me with an expression of flurriedalarm, which at the time surprised me not a little. "All is over, Mrs. Bourdon, " said I, finding she did not speak; "and your presence isprobably needed by Miss Armitage. " A flash of intelligence, as I spoke, passed between the pair; but whether indicative of grief or joy, somomentary was the glance, I should have been puzzled to determine. Thehousekeeper immediately left the room, keeping her eyes, as she passed, fixed upon me with the same nervous apprehensive look which had beforeirritated Dr. Curteis. The young man followed more slowly. He was a talland rather handsome youth, apparently about one or two-and-twenty yearsof age. His hair was black as jet, and his dark eyes were of singularbrilliancy; but the expression, I thought, was scarcely a refined orhighly-intellectual one. His resemblance to Mrs. Bourdon, whose sonindeed he was, was very striking. He bowed slightly, but courteously, asto an equal, as he closed the door, and I was left to the undisturbedenjoyment of my own reflections, which, ill-defined and indistinct asthey were, were anything but pleasant company. My reverie was at lengthinterrupted by the entrance of the doctor, with the announcement that thecarriage was in waiting to re-convey us to town. 

We had journeyed several miles on our return before a word was spoken byeither of us. My companion was apparently even more painfullypre-occupied than myself. He was, however, the first to break silence. "The emaciated corpse we have just left little resembles the gay, beautiful girl, for whose smiles you and I were once disposed to shooteach other!" The doctor's voice trembled with emotion, and his face, Iperceived, was pale as marble. 

"Mary Rawdon, " I remarked, "lives again in her daughter. "

"Yes; her very image. Do you know, " continued he, speaking with rapidenergy, "I suspect Mary Rawdon--Mrs. Armitage, I would say--has beenfoully, treacherously dealt with!"

I started with amazement; and yet the announcement but embodied and gaveform and color to my own ill-defined and shadowy suspicions. 

"Good heavens! How? By whom?"

"Unless I am greatly mistaken, she has been poisoned by an adept in theuse of such destructive agents. "

"Mrs. Bourdon?"

"No; by her son. At least my suspicions point that way. She is probablycognizant of the crime. But in order that you should understand thegrounds upon which my conjectures are principally founded, I must enterinto a short explanation. Mrs. Bourdon, a woman of Spanish extraction, and who formerly occupied a much higher position than she does now, haslived with Mrs. Armitage from the period of her husband's death, nowabout sixteen years ago. Mrs. Bourdon has a son, a tall, good-lookingfellow enough, whom you may have seen. "

"He was with his mother in the library as I entered it afterleaving you. "

"Ah! well, hem! This boy, in his mother's opinion--but that perhaps issomewhat excusable--exhibited early indications of having been born a"genius. " Mrs. Armitage, who had been first struck by the beauty of thechild, gradually acquired the same notion; and the result was, that hewas little by little invested--with at least her tacit approval--with theprivileges supposed to be the lawful inheritance of such gifted spirits;namely, the right to be as idle as he pleased--geniuses, you know, can, according to the popular notion, attain any conceivable amount ofknowledge _per saltum_ at a bound--and to exalt himself in the stilts ofhis own conceit above the useful and honorable pursuits suited to thestation in life in which Providence had cast his lot. The fruit of suchtraining soon showed itself. Young Bourdon grew up a conceited andessentially-ignorant puppy, capable of nothing but bad verses, andthoroughly impressed with but one important fact, which was, that he, Alfred Bourdon, was the most gifted and the most ill-used of all God'screatures. To genius, in any intelligible sense of the term, he has intruth no pretension. He is endowed, however, with a kind of reflectivetalent, which is often mistaken by fools for _creative_ power. The morbidfancies and melancholy scorn of a Byron, for instance, such gentryreflect back from their foggy imaginations in exaggerated and distortedfeebleness of whining versicles, and so on with other lights celestialor infernal. This, however, by the way. The only rational pursuit he everfollowed, and that only by fits and starts, and to gratify his faculty of"wonder, " I fancy, was chemistry. A small laboratory was fitted up forhim in the little summer-house you may have observed at the furthercorner of the lawn. This study of his, if study such desultory snatchesat science may be called, led him, in his examination of vegetablebodies, to a smattering acquaintance with botany, a science of whichEllen Armitage is an enthusiastic student. They were foolishly permittedto _botanize_ together, and the result was, that Alfred Bourdon, actingupon the principle that genius--whether sham or real--levels all merelymundane distinctions, had the impudence to aspire to the hand of MissArmitage. His passion, sincere or simulated, has never been, I havereason to know, in the slightest degree reciprocated by its object; butso blind is vanity, that when, about six weeks ago, an _éclaircissement_took place, and the fellow's dream was somewhat rudely dissipated, theuntoward rejection of his preposterous suit was, there is every reason tobelieve, attributed by both mother and son to the repugnance of Mrs. Armitage alone; and to this idiotic hallucination she has, I fear, fallena sacrifice. Judging from the emaciated appearance of the body, and otherphenomena communicated to me by her ordinary medical attendant--ablundering ignoramus, who ought to have called in assistance longbefore--she has been poisoned with _iodine_, which, administered incertain quantities, would produce precisely the same symptoms. Happilythere is no mode of destroying human life which so surely leads to thedetection of the murderer as the use of such agents; and of this truththe post mortem examination of the body, which takes place to-morrowmorning, will, if I am not grossly mistaken, supply another vividillustration. Legal assistance will no doubt be necessary, and I am sureI do not err in expecting that _you_ will aid me in bringing to justicethe murderer of Mary Rawdon?"

A pressure of his hand was my only answer. "I shall call for you at teno'clock" said he, as he put me down at my own door. I bowed, and thecarriage drove off. 

"Well!" said I, as Dr. Curteis and Mr. ---- the eminent surgeon enteredthe library at Mount Place the following morning after a long absence. 

"As I anticipated, " replied the doctor with a choking voice: "she hasbeen poisoned!"

I started to my feet. "And the murderer?"

"Our suspicions still point to young Bourdon; but the persons of bothmother and son have been secured. "

"Apart?"

"Yes; and I have despatched a servant to request the presence of aneighbor--a county magistrate. I expect him momently. "

After a brief consultation, we all three directed our steps to thesummer-house which contained young Bourdon's laboratory. In the roomitself nothing of importance was discovered; but in an enclosed recess, which we broke open, we found a curiously-fashioned glass bottle halffull of iodine. 

"This is it!" said Mr. ----; "and in a powdered state too--just readyfor mixing with brandy or any other available dissolvent. " The powder hadsomewhat the appearance of fine black lead. Nothing further of anyconsequence being observed, we returned to the house, where themagistrate had already arrived. 

Alfred Bourdon was first brought in; and he having been duly cautionedthat he was not obliged to answer any question, and that what he did saywould be taken down, and, if necessary, used against him, I proposed thefollowing questions:--

"Have you the key of your laboratory?"

"No; the door is always open. "

"Well, then, of any door or cupboard in the room?"

At this question his face flushed purple: he stammered, "There isno"--and abruptly paused. 

"Do I understand you to say there is no cupboard or place of concealmentin the room?"

"No: here is the key. "

"Has any one had access to the cupboard or recess of which this is thekey, except yourself?"

The young man shook as if smitten with ague: his lips chattered, but noarticulate sound escaped them. 

"You need not answer the question, " said the magistrate, "unless youchoose to do so. I again warn you that all you say will, if necessary, be used against you. "

"No one, " he at length gasped, mastering his hesitation by a strongexertion of the will--"no one can have had access to the place butmyself. I have never parted with the key. "

Mrs. Bourdon was now called in. After interchanging a glance of intenseagony, and, as it seemed to me, of affectionate intelligence with herson, she calmly answered the questions put to her. They were unimportant, except the last, and that acted upon her like a galvanic shock. It wasthis--"Did you ever struggle with your son on the landing leading to thebedroom of the deceased for the possession of this bottle?" and I held upthat which we had found in the recess. 

A slight scream escaped her lips; and then she stood rigid, erect, motionless, glaring alternately at me and at the fatal bottle with eyesthat seemed starting from their sockets. I glanced towards the son; hewas also affected in a terrible manner. His knees smote each other, and aclammy perspiration burst forth and settled upon his pallid forehead. 

"Again I caution you, " iterated the magistrate, "that you are not boundto answer any of these questions. "

The woman's lips moved. "No--never!" she almost inaudibly gasped, andfell senseless on the floor. 

As soon as she was removed, Jane Withers was called. She deposed thatthree days previously, as she was, just before dusk, arranging some linenin a room a few yards distant from the bedroom of her late mistress, shewas surprised at hearing a noise just outside the door, as of personsstruggling and speaking in low but earnest tones. She drew aside a cornerof the muslin curtain of the window which locked upon the passage orcorridor, and there saw Mrs. Bourdon striving to wrest something from herson's hand. She heard Mrs. Bourdon say, "You shall not do it, or youshall not have it"--she could not be sure which. A noise of some sortseemed to alarm them: they ceased struggling, and listened attentivelyfor a few seconds: then Alfred Bourdon stole off on tip-toe, leaving theobject in dispute, which witness could not see distinctly, in hismother's hand. Mrs. Bourdon continued to listen, and presently MissArmitage, opening the door of her mother's chamber, called her by name. She immediately placed what was in her hand on the marble top of aside-table standing in the corridor, and hastened to Miss Armitage. Witness left the room she had been in a few minutes afterwards, and, curious to know what Mrs. Bourdon and her son had been struggling for, went to the table to look at it. It was an oddly-shaped glass bottle, containing a good deal of a blackish-gray powder, which, as she held itup to the light, looked like black-lead!

"Would you be able to swear to the bottle if you saw it?"

"Certainly I should. "

"By what mark or token?"

"The name of Valpy or Vulpy was cast into it--that is, the name was inthe glass itself. "

"Is this it?"

"It is: I swear most positively. "

A letter was also read which had been taken from Bourdon's pocket. It wasmuch creased, and was proved to be in the handwriting of Mrs. Armitage. It consisted of a severe rebuke at the young man's presumption in seekingto address himself to her daughter, which insolent ingratitude, thewriter said, she should never, whilst she lived, either forget orforgive. This last sentence was strongly underlined in a different inkfrom that used by the writer of the letter. 

The surgeon deposed to the cause of death. It had been brought on by theaction of iodine, which, administered in certain quantities, producedsymptoms as of rapid atrophy, such as had appeared in Mrs. Armitage. Theglass bottle found in the recess contained iodine in a pulverized state. 

I deposed that, on entering the library on the previous evening Ioverheard young Mr. Bourdon, addressing his mother, say, "Now that it isdone past recall, I will not shrink from any consequences, be they whatthey may!"

This was the substance of the evidence adduced; and the magistrate atonce committed Alfred Bourdon to Chelmsford jail, to take his trial atthe next assize for "wilful murder. " A coroner's inquisition a few daysafter also returned a verdict of "wilful murder" against him on thesame evidence. 

About an hour after his committal, and just previous to the arrival ofthe vehicle which was to convey him to the county prison, Alfred Bourdonrequested an interview with me. I very reluctantly consented; but steeledas I was against him, I could not avoid feeling dreadfully shocked at thechange which so brief an interval had wrought upon him. It had done thework of years. Despair--black, utter despair--was written in everylineament of his expressive countenance. 

"I have requested to see you, " said the unhappy culprit, "rather than Dr. Curteis, because he, I know, is bitterly prejudiced against me. But _you_will not refuse, I think, the solemn request of a dying man--for a dyingman I feel myself to be--however long or short the interval which standsbetween me and the scaffold. It is not with a childish hope that anyassertion of mine can avail before the tribunal of the law against theevidence adduced this day, that I, with all the solemnity befitting a manwhose days are numbered, declare to you that I am wholly innocent of thecrime laid to my charge. I have no such expectation; I seek only thatyou, in pity of my youth and untimely fate, should convey to her whom Ihave madly presumed to worship this message: 'Alfred Bourdon was mad, butnot blood-guilty; and of the crime laid to his charge he is innocent asan unborn child. '"

"The pure and holy passion, young man, " said I, somewhat startled by hisimpressive manner, "however presumptuous, as far as social considerationsare concerned, it might be, by which you affect to be inspired, isutterly inconsistent with the cruel, dastardly crime of which suchdamning evidence has an hour since been given"--

"Say no more, sir, " interrupted Bourdon, sinking back in his seat, andburying his face in his hands: "it were a bootless errand; she _could_not, in the face of that evidence, believe my unsupported assertion! Itwere as well perhaps she did not. And yet, sir, it is hard to betrampled into a felon's grave, loaded with the maledictions of thosewhom you would coin your heart to serve and bless! Ah, sir, " hecontinued, whilst tears of agony streamed through his firmly-closedfingers, "you cannot conceive the unutterable bitterness of the pangwhich rends the heart of him who feels that he is not only despised, but loathed, hated, execrated, by her whom his soul idolizes! Mine wasno boyish, transient passion: it has grown with my growth, andstrengthened with my strength. My life has been but one long dream ofher. All that my soul had drunk in of beauty in the visible earth andheavens--the light of setting suns--the radiance of the silverstars--the breath of summer flowers, together with all which we imagineof celestial purity and grace, seemed to me in her incarnated, concentrated, and combined! And now lost--lost--forever lost!" Theviolence of his emotions choked his utterance; and deeply and painfullyaffected, I hastened from his presence. 

Time sped as ever onwards, surely, silently; and justice, with her feetof lead, but hands of iron, closed gradually upon her quarry. AlfredBourdon was arraigned before a jury of his countrymen, to answer finallyto the accusation of wilful murder preferred against him. 

The evidence, as given before the committing magistrate, and thecoroner's inquisition, was repeated with some addition of passionateexpressions used by the prisoner indicative of a desire to be avenged onthe deceased. The cross-examination by the counsel for the defense wasable, but failed to shake the case for the prosecution. His ownadmission, that no one but himself had access to the recess where thepoison was found, told fatally against him. When called upon to addressthe jury, he delivered himself of a speech rather than a defense; of anoratorical effusion, instead of a vigorous, and, if possible, damagingcommentary upon the evidence arrayed against him. It was a labored, andin part eloquent, exposition of the necessary fallibility of humanjudgment, illustrated by numerous examples of erroneous verdicts. Hisperoration I jotted down at the time:--"Thus, my lord and gentlemen ofthe jury, is it abundantly manifest, not only by these examples, but bythe testimony which every man bears in his own breast, that God could nothave willed, could not have commanded, his creatures to perform apretended duty, which he vouchsafed them no power to perform righteously. Oh, be sure that if he had intended, if he had commanded you to pronounceirreversible decrees upon your fellow-man, quenching that life which ishis highest gift, he would have endowed you with gifts to perform thatduty rightly. Has he done so? Ask not alone the pages dripping withinnocent blood which I have quoted, but your own hearts! Are you, according to the promise of the serpent-tempter, 'gods, knowing good fromevil?' of such clear omniscience, that you can hurl an unprepared soulbefore the tribunal of its Maker, in the full assurance that you haverightly loosed the silver cord which he had measured, have justly brokenthe golden bowl which he had fashioned! Oh, my lord, " he concluded, hisdark eyes flashing with excitement, "it is possible that the firstannouncement of my innocence of this crime, to which you will givecredence, may be proclaimed from the awful tribunal of him who alonecannot err! How if he, whose eye is even now upon us, should thenproclaim, '_I_ too, sat in judgment on the day when you presumed to doomyour fellow-worm; and _I_ saw that the murderer was not in the dock, buton the bench!' Oh, my lord, think well of what you do--pause ere youincur such fearful hazard; for be assured, that for all these things Godwill also bring _you_ to judgment!"

He ceased, and sank back exhausted. His fervid declamation produced aconsiderable impression upon the auditory; but it soon disappeared beforethe calm, impressive charge of the judge, who re-assured the startledjury, by reminding them that their duty was to honestly execute the law, not to dispute about its justice. For himself, he said, sustained by apure conscience, he was quite willing to incur the hazard hinted at bythe prisoner. After a careful and luminous summing up, the jury, withvery slight deliberation, returned a verdict of "Guilty. "

As the word passed the lips of the foreman of the jury, a piercing shriekrang through the court. It proceeded from a tall figure in black, who, with closely-drawn veil, had sat motionless during the trial, just beforethe dock. It was the prisoner's mother. The next instant she rose, andthrowing back her veil wildly exclaimed, "He is innocent--innocent, Itell ye! I alone"--

"Mother! mother! for the love of Heaven be silent!" shouted the prisonerwith frantic vehemence, and stretching himself over the front of thedock, as if to grasp and restrain her. 

"Innocent, I tell you!" continued the woman. "I--I alone am the guiltyperson! It was I alone that perpetrated the deed! He knew it not, suspected it not, till it was too late. Here, " she added, drawing a sheetof paper from her bosom--"here is my confession, with each circumstancedetailed!"

As she waved it over her head, it was snatched by her son, and, swift aslightning, torn to shreds. "She is mad! Heed her not--believe her not!"He at the same time shouted at the top of his powerful voice, "She isdistracted--mad! Now, my lord, your sentence! Come!"

The tumult and excitement in the court no language which I can employwould convey an adequate impression of. As soon as calm was partiallyrestored, Mrs. Bourdon was taken into custody: the prisoner was removed;and the court adjourned, of course without passing sentence. 

It was even as his mother said! Subsequent investigation, aided by herconfessions, amply proved that the fearful crime was conceived andperpetrated by her alone, in the frantic hope of securing for heridolized son the hand and fortune of Miss Armitage. She had often beenpresent with him in his laboratory, and had thus become acquainted withthe uses to which certain agents could be put. She had purloined the keyof the recess; and he, unfortunately too late to prevent the perpetrationof the crime, had by mere accident discovered the abstraction of thepoison. His subsequent declarations had been made for the determinedpurpose of saving his mother's life by the sacrifice of his own!

The wretched woman was not reserved to fall before the justice of hercountry. The hand of God smote her ere the scaffold was prepared forher. She was smitten with frenzy, and died raving in the MetropolitanLunatic Asylum. Alfred Bourdon, after a lengthened imprisonment, wasliberated. He called on me, by appointment, a few days previous toleaving this country forever; and I placed in his hands a smallpocket-Bible, on the fly-leaf of which was written one word--"Ellen!"His dim eye lighted up with something of its old fire as he glanced atthe characters; he then closed the book, placed it in his bosom, andwaving me a mute farewell--I saw he durst not trust himself tospeak--hastily departed. I never saw him more!

"THE WRIT OF HABEAS CORPUS. "

In the month of February of the year following that which witnessed thesuccessful establishment of the claim of Sir Harry Compton's infant sonto his magnificent patrimony, Mr. Samuel Ferret was traveling post withall the speed he could command towards Lancashire, in compliance with asummons from Lady Compton, requesting, in urgent terms, his immediatepresence at the castle. It was wild and bitter weather, and the roadswere in many places rendered dangerous, and almost impassable, by thedrifting snow. Mr. Ferret, however, pressed onwards with his habitualenergy and perseverance; and, spite of all elemental and postboyopposition, succeeded in accomplishing his journey in much less timethan, under the circumstances, could have been reasonably expected. Butswiftly as, for those slow times, he pushed on, it is necessary I shouldanticipate, by a brief period, his arrival at his destination, in orderto put the reader in possession of the circumstances which had occasionedthe hurried and pressing message he had received. 

Two days before, as Lady Compton and her sister, who had been paying avisit to Mrs. Arlington at the Grange, were returning home towards nineo'clock in the evening, they observed, as the carriage turned a sharpangle of the road leading through Compton Park, a considerable number oflighted lanterns borne hurriedly to and fro in various directions, bypersons apparently in eager but bewildered pursuit of some missingobject. The carriage was stopped, and in answer to the servants'inquiries, it was replied that Major Brandon's crazy niece had escapedfrom her uncle's house; and although traced by the snow-tracks as far asthe entrance to the park, had not yet been recovered. Mrs. Brandon hadoffered a reward of ten pounds to whoever should secure and reconduct herhome; hence the hot pursuit of the fugitive, who, it was now supposed, must be concealed in the shrubberies. Rumors regarding this unfortunateyoung lady, by no means favorable to the character of her relatives aspersons of humanity, had previously reached Lady Compton's ears; and shedetermined to avail herself, if possible, of the present opportunity toobtain a personal interview with the real or supposed lunatic. The menwho had been questioned were informed that only the castle servants couldbe allowed to search for the missing person, either in the park orshrubberies; and that if there, she would be taken care of, and restoredto her friends in the morning. The coachman was then ordered to drive on;but the wheels had not made half-a-dozen revolutions, when a loud shoutat some distance, in the direction of the park, followed by a successionof piercing screams, announced the discovery and capture of the object ofthe chase. The horses were urged rapidly forward; and ere more than aminute had elapsed, the carriage drew up within a few yards of the huntedgirl and her captors. The instant it stopped, Clara Brandon, liberatingherself by a frenzied effort from the rude grasp in which she was held byan athletic young man, sprang wildly towards it, and with passionateintreaty implored mercy and protection. The young man, a son of Mrs. Brandon's by a former husband, immediately re-seized her; and with fierceviolence endeavored to wrench her hand from the handle of the carriagedoor, which she clutched with desperate tenacity. The door flew open, the sudden jerk disengaged her hold, and she struggled vainly in hercaptor's powerful grasp. "Save me! save me!" she frantically exclaimed, as she felt herself borne off. "You who are, they say, as kind and goodas you are beautiful and happy, save me from this cruel man!"

Lady Compton, inexpressibly shocked by the piteous spectacle presented bythe unhappy girl--her scanty clothing soiled, disarrayed, and torn by theviolence of her struggles; her long flaxen tresses flowing disorderlyover her face and neck in tangled dishevelment; and the pale, haggard, wild expression of her countenance--was for a few moments incapable ofspeech. Her sister was more collected: "Violet, " she instantlyremonstrated, "do not permit this brutal violence. "

"What right has she or any one to interfere with us?" demanded the youngman savagely. "This girl is Major Brandon's ward, as well as niece, and_shall_ return to her lawful home! Stand back, " continued he, addressingthe servants, who, at a gesture from Miss Dalston, barred his progress. "Withstand me at your peril!"

"Force her from him!" exclaimed Lady Compton, recovering hervoice. "Gently! gently! I will be answerable for her safe custodytill the morning. "

The athletic fellow struggled desperately; but however powerful anddetermined, he was only one man against a score, nearly all thebystanders being tenants or laborers on the Compton estates; and spite ofhis furious efforts, and menaces of law and vengeance, Clara was tornfrom him in a twinkling, and himself hurled with some violence prostrateon the road. "Do not let them hurt the man, " said Lady Compton, as theservants placed the insensible girl in the carriage (she had fainted);"and tell him that if he has really any legal claim to the custody ofthis unfortunate person, he must prefer it in the morning. "

Immediately on arrival at the castle, the escaped prisoner was conveyedto bed, and medical aid instantly summoned. When restored toconsciousness, whether from the effect of an excess of fever producingtemporary delirium, or from confirmed mental disease, her speech wasaltogether wild and incoherent--the only at all consistent portions ofher ravings being piteously--iterated appeals to Lady Compton not tosurrender her to her aunt in-law, Mrs. Brandon, of whom she seemed toentertain an overpowering, indefinable dread. It was evident she had beensubjected to extremely brutal treatment--such as, in these days ofimproved legislation in such matters, and greatly advanced knowledge ofthe origin and remedy of cerebral infirmity, would not be permittedtowards the meanest human being, much less a tenderly-nurtured, delicatefemale. At length, under the influence of a composing draught, she sankgradually to sleep; and Lady Compton having determined to rescue her, ifpossible, from the suspicious custody of her relatives, and naturallyapprehensive of the legal difficulties which she could not doubt wouldimpede the execution of her generous, if somewhat Quixotic project, resolved on at once sending off an express for Mr. Ferret, on whoseacumen and zeal she knew she could place the fullest reliance. 

Clara Brandon's simple history may be briefly summed up. She was the onlychild of a Mr. Frederick Brandon, who, a widower in the second year ofhis marriage, had since principally resided at the "Elms, " a handsomemansion and grounds which he had leased of the uncle of the late SirHarry Compton. At his decease, which occurred about two years previous topoor Clara's escape from confinement, as just narrated, he bequeathedhis entire fortune, between two and three thousand pounds per annum, chiefly secured on land, to his daughter; appointed his elder brother, Major Brandon, sole executor of his will, and guardian of his child; andin the event of her dying before she had attained her majority--of whichshe wanted, at her father's death, upwards of three years--or withoutlawful issue, the property was to go to the major, to be by him willed athis pleasure. Major Brandon, whose physical and mental energies had beenprematurely broken down--he was only in his fifty-second year--either byexcess or hard service in the East, perhaps both, had married late inlife the widow of a brother officer, and the mother of a grown-up son. The lady, a woman of inflexible will, considerable remains of a somewhatmasculine beauty, and about ten years her husband's junior, held him in astate of thorough pupilage; and, unchecked by him, devoted all herenergies to bring about, by fair or foul means, a union between Clara andher own son, a cub of some two or three-and-twenty years of age, whosesole object in seconding his mother's views upon Clara was theacquisition of her wealth. According to popular surmise and report, theyoung lady's mental infirmity had been brought about by the persecutionsshe had endured at the hands of Mrs. Brandon, with a view to force herinto a marriage she detested. The most reliable authority for the truthof these rumors was Susan Hopley, now in the service of Lady Compton, butwho had lived for many years with Mr. Frederick Brandon and his daughter. She had been discharged about six months after her master's decease byMrs. Major Brandon for alleged impertinence; and so thoroughly convincedwas Susan that the soon-afterwards alleged lunacy of Clara was but ajuggling pretence to excuse the restraint under which her aunt-in-law, for the furtherance of her own vile purposes, had determined to keepher, that although out of place at the time, she devoted all the savingsof her life, between eighty and ninety pounds, to procure "justice" forthe ill-used orphan. This article, Susan was advised, could be bestobtained of the lord chancellor; and proceedings were accordingly takenbefore the keeper of the king's conscience, in order to change thecustody of the pretended lunatic. The affidavits filed in support of thepetition were, however, so loose and vague, and were met with suchpositive counter-allegations, that the application was at once dismissedwith costs; and poor Susan--rash suitor for "justice"--reduced toabsolute penury. These circumstances becoming known to Lady Compton, Susan was taken into her service; and it was principally owing to herfrequently-iterated version of the affair that Clara had been forciblyrescued from Mrs. Brandon's son. 

On the following morning the patient was much calmer, though her mindstill wandered somewhat. Fortified by the authority of the physician, whocertified that to remove her, or even to expose her to agitation, wouldbe dangerous, if not fatal, Lady Compton not only refused to deliver herup to Major and Mrs. Brandon, but to allow them to see her. Mrs. Brandon, in a towering rage, posted off to the nearest magistrate, to demand theassistance of peace-officers in obtaining possession of the person of thefugitive. That functionary would, however, only so far comply with theindignant lady's solicitations, as to send his clerk to the castle toascertain the reason of the young lady's detention; and when hismessenger returned with a note, enclosing a copy of the physician'scertificate, he peremptorily decided that the conduct of Lady Compton wasnot only perfectly justifiable, but praiseworthy, and that the mattermust remain over till the patient was in a condition to be moved. Thingswere precisely in this state, except that Clara Brandon had becomeperfectly rational; and but for an irrepressible nervous dread of againfalling into the power of her unscrupulous relative, quite calm, when Mr. Samuel Ferret made his wished-for appearance on the scene of action. 

Long and anxious was the conference which Mr. Ferret held with hismunificent client and her interesting protégée, if conference that may becalled in which the astute attorney enacted the part of listener only, scarcely once opening his thin, cautious lips. In vain did his eagerbrain silently ransack the whole armory of the law; no weapon could hediscern which afforded the slightest hope of fighting a successful battlewith a legally-appointed guardian for the custody of his ward. And yetMr. Ferret felt, as he looked upon the flashing eye and glowingcountenance of Lady Compton, as she recounted a few of the grievousoutrages inflicted upon the fair and helpless girl reclining besideher--whose varying cheek and meek suffused eyes bore eloquent testimonyto the truth of the relation--that he would willingly exert a vigor even_beyond_ the law to meet his client's wishes, could he but see his way toa safe result. At length a ray of light, judging from hissuddenly-gleaming eyes, seemed to have broken upon the troubled chambersof his brain, and he rose somewhat hastily from his chair. 

"By the by, I will just step and speak to this Susan Hopley, if yourladyship can inform me in what part of the lower regions I am likely tomeet with her?"

"Let me ring for her. "

"No; if you please not. What I have to ask her is of very littleimportance; still, to summon her here might give rise to surmises, reports, and so on, which it may be as well to avoid. I had much rathersee her accidentally, as it were. "

"As you please. You will find her somewhere about the housekeeper'sapartments. You know her by sight, I think?"

"Perfectly; and with your leave I'll take the opportunity of directingthe horses to be put to. I must be in London by noon to-morrow ifpossible;" and away Mr. Ferret bustled. 

"Susan, " said Mr. Ferret a few minutes afterwards, "step this way; I wantto have a word with you. Now, tell me are you goose enough to expect youwill ever see the money again you so foolishly threw into the bottomlesspit of chancery?"

"Of course I shall, Mr. Ferret, as soon as ever Miss Clara comes to herown. She mentioned it only this morning, and said she was sorry she couldnot repay me at once. "

"You are a sensible girl, Susan, though you _did_ go to law with the lordchancellor! I want you to be off with me to London; and then perhaps wemay get your money sooner than you expect. "

"Oh, bother the money! Is that _all_ you want me to go to Lunnon for?"

Mr. Ferret replied with a wink of such exceeding intelligence, thatSusan at once declared she should be ready to start in ten minutes atthe latest. 

"That's a good creature; and, Susan, as there's not the slightestoccasion to let all the world know who's going to run off with you, itmay be as well for you to take your bundle and step on a mile or so onthe road, say to the turn, just beyond the first turnpike. " Susan noddedwith brisk good-humor, and disappeared in a twinkling. 

An hour afterwards, Mr. Ferret was on his way back to London, havingfirst impressed upon Lady Compton the necessity of immediately relievingherself of the grave responsibility she had incurred towards MajorBrandon for the safe custody of his ward, by sending her homeimmediately. He promised to return on the third day from his departure;but on the nature of the measures he intended to adopt, or the hopes heentertained of success, he was inflexibly silent; and he moreoverespecially requested that no one, not even Miss Brandon, should know ofSusan Hopley's journey to the metropolis. 

Mr. Ferret, immediately on his arrival in town, called at my chambers, and related with his usual minuteness and precision as many of theforegoing particulars as he knew and thought proper to communicate to me. For the rest I am indebted to subsequent conversations with the differentparties concerned. 

"Well, " said I, as soon as he had concluded, "what course do you proposeto adopt?"

"I wish you to apply, on this affidavit, for a writ of _habeas ad sub. _, to bring up the body of Clara Brandon. Judge Bailey will be at chambersat three o'clock: it is now more than half-past two, and I can be off onmy return by four at latest. "

"A writ of habeas!" I exclaimed with astonishment. "Why, what end canthat answer? The lady will be remanded, and you and I shall be laughed atfor our pains. "

This writ of _habeas corpus "ad subjiciendum, _" I had better explain tothe non-professional reader, is the great _prerogative_ writ, theoperation of which is sometimes suspended by the legislature duringpolitical panics. It is grounded on the principle that the sovereign hasat all times a right to inquire, through the judges of the superiorcourts, by what authority his or her subject is held in constraint. Itissues, as a matter of right, upon the filing of an affidavit, averringthat to the best of the belief of the deponent the individual sought tobe brought up is illegally confined; and it is of the essence of theproceeding, that the person alleged to be suffering unlawful constraintshould actually be brought before the "queen herself;" that is, beforeone or more of the judges of the court which has issued the writ, who, ifthey find _the detention illegal_, the only question at issue upon thiswrit may discharge or bail the party. It was quite obvious, therefore, that in this case such a proceeding would be altogether futile, as thedetention in the house of her guardian, under the sanction, too, of thelord chancellor, the _ex-officio_ custodier of all lunatics--of a ward ofalleged disordered intellect--was clearly legal, at least _prima facie_so, and not to be disturbed under a _habeas ad sub_. At all events. 

"Perhaps so, " replied Ferret quite coolly in reply to my exclamation;"but I am determined to try every means of releasing the unfortunateyoung lady from the cruel thraldom in which she is held by that harridanof an aunt-in-law. She is no more really insane than you are; but at thesame time so excitable upon certain topics, that it might be perhapsdifficult to disabuse the chancellor or a jury of the impression soindustriously propagated to her prejudice. The peremptory rejection byher guardian of young Burford's addresses, though sanctioned by herfather: you know the Burfords?"

"Of Grosvenor Street you mean--the East India director?"

"Yes, his son; and that reminds me that the declaration in thateverlasting exchequer case must be filed to-morrow. Confound it, how thisflying about the country puts one out! I thought some one had kidnappedher son, or fired Compton Castle at least. By the way, I am much deceivedif there isn't a wedding there before long. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes, Miss Dalston with Sir Jasper's eldest hope. "

"You don't mean it?"

"_They_ do at all events, and that is much more to the purpose. A fineyoung fellow enough, and sufficiently rich too"--

"All which rambling talk and anecdote, " cried I, interrupting him, "means, if I have any skill in reading Mr. Ferret, that that gentleman, having some ulterior purpose in view, which I cannot for the momentdivine, is determined to have this writ, and does not wish to be pesteredwith any argument on the subject. Be it so: it is your affair, not mine. And now, as it is just upon three o'clock, let me see your affidavit. "

I ran it over. "Rather loose this, Mr. Ferret, but I suppose it will do. "

"Well, it _is_ rather loose, but I could not with safety sail much closerto the wind. By the by, I think you had better first apply for a rule tostay proceedings against the bail in that case of Turner; and after thatis decided, just ask for this writ, off-hand as it were, and as a matterof course. His lordship may not then scrutinize the affidavit quite soclosely as if he thought counsel had been brought to chambers purposelyto apply for it. "

"Cautious, Mr. Ferret! Well, come along, and I'll see what I can do. "

The writ was obtained without difficulty; few questions were asked; andat my request the judge made it returnable immediately. By four o'clock, Mr. Ferret, who could fortunately sleep as well in a postchaise as in afeather-bed, was, as he had promised himself, on his road to Lancashireonce more, where he had the pleasure of serving Major Brandon personally;at the same time tendering in due form the one shilling per mile fixed bythe statute as preliminary traveling charges. The vituperative eloquenceshowered upon Mr. Ferret by the Major's lady was, I afterwards heard, extremely copious and varied, and was borne by him, as I could easilybelieve, with the most philosophic composure. 

In due time the parties appeared before Mr. Justice Bailey. Miss Brandonwas accompanied by her uncle, his wife, and a solicitor; and spite ofeverything I could urge, the judge, as I had forseen, refused tointerfere in the matter. The poor girl was dreadfully agitated, but kept, nevertheless, her eyes upon Mr. Ferret, as the source from which, spiteof what was passing around her, effectual succor was sure to come. As forthat gentleman himself, he appeared composedly indifferent to theproceedings; and indeed, I thought, seemed rather relieved than otherwisewhen they terminated. I could not comprehend him. Mrs. Brandon, theinstant the case was decided, clutched Clara's arm within hers, and, followed by her husband and the solicitor, sailed out of the apartmentwith an air of triumphant disdain and pride. Miss Brandon looked roundfor Ferret, but not perceiving him--he had left hastily an instant or twobefore--her face became deadly pale, and the most piteous expression ofhopeless despair I had ever beheld broke from her troubled butsingularly-expressive eyes. I mechanically followed, with a half-formedpurpose of remonstrating with Major Brandon in behalf of the unfortunategirl, and was by that means soon in possession of the key to Mr. Ferret'sapparently inexplicable conduct. 

The Brandon party walked very fast, and I had scarcely got up withthem as they were turning out of Chancery Lane into Fleet Street, whentwo men, whose vocation no accustomed eye could for an instantmistake, arrested their further progress. "This lady, " said one of themen, slightly touching Miss Brandon on the shoulder, "is, I believe, Clara Brandon?"

"Yes she is; and what of that, fellow?" demanded the major's lady withindignant emphasis. 

"Not much, ma'am, " replied the sheriff's officer, "when you are used toit. It is my unpleasant duty to arrest her for the sum of eighty-sevenpounds, indorsed on this writ, issued at the suit of one Susan Hopley. "

"Arrest her!" exclaimed Mrs. Brandon; "why, she is a minor!"

"Minor or major, ma'am, makes very little difference to us. She can pleadthat hereafter, you know. In the meantime, miss, please to step into thiscoach, " replied the officer, holding the door open. 

"But she's a person of unsound mind, " screamed the lady, as Clara, nothing loath, sprang into the vehicle. 

"So are most people that do business with our establishment, " respondedthe imperturbable official, as he shut and fastened the door. "Here is mycard, sir, " he added, addressing the attorney, who now came up. "You seewhere to find the lady, if her friends wish to give bail to the sheriff, or, what is always more satisfactory, pay the debt and costs. " He thenjumped on the box, his follower got up behind, and away drove the coach, leaving the discomfited major and his fiery better-half in a state of theblankest bewilderment!

"Why, what _is_ the meaning of this?" at length gasped Mrs. Brandon, fiercely addressing the attorney, as if _he_, were a _particeps criminis_in the affair. 

"The meaning, my dear madame, is, that Miss Clara Brandon is arrested fordebt, and carried off to a sponging-house; and that unless you pay themoney, or file bail, she will tomorrow be lodged in jail, " replied theunmoved man of law. 

"Bail! money! How are we to do either in London, away from home?"demanded the major with, for him, much emotion. 

I did not wait to hear more, but, almost suffocated with laughter at thesuccess of Ferret's audacious _ruse_, hastened over to the Temple. I wasjust leaving chambers for the night--about ten o'clock I think it musthave been--when Ferret, in exuberant spirits, burst into the room. 

"Well, sir, what do you think _now_ of a writ _ad sub. _?"

"Why, I think, Mr. Ferret, " replied I, looking as serious as I could, "that yours is very sharp practice; that the purpose you have put it tois an abuse of the writ; that the arrest is consequently illegal; andthat a judge would, upon motion, quash it with costs. "

"To be sure he would: who doubts that? Let him, and welcome! In themeantime, Clara Brandon is safe beyond the reach of all the judges orchancellors that ever wore horsehair, and that everlasting simpleton of amajor and his harridan wife roaming the metropolis like distractedcreatures; and that I take to be the real essence of the thing, whateverthe big-wigs may decide about the shells!"

"I suppose the plaintiff soon discharged her debtor out of custody?"

"Without loss of time, you may be sure. Miss Brandon, I may tell _you_, is with the Rev. Mr. Derwent at Brompton. You know him: the newly-marriedcurate of St. Margaret's that was examined in that will case. Well him:he is an intelligent, high-principled man; and I have no doubt that, under his and Mrs. Derwent's care, all trace of Miss Brandon's mentalinfirmity will disappear long before she attains her majority next Junetwelvemonth; whilst the liberal sum per month which Lady Compton willadvance, will be of great service to him"

"That appears all very good. But are you sure you can effectuallyconceal the place of her retreat?"

"I have no fear: the twigs that will entangle her precious guardians inthe labyrinths of a false clue are already set and limed. Beforeto-morrow night they will have discovered, by means of their ownwonderfully-penetrative sagacity, that Clara has been spirited over toFrance; and before three months are past, the same surprisingintelligence will rejoice in the discovery that she expired in a _maisonde santé_--fine comfortable repose, in which fool's paradise I hope tohave the honor of awakening them about next June twelvemonth, and not asat present advised before!"

Everything fortunately turned out as Mr. Ferret anticipated; and when afew months had glided by, Clara Brandon was a memory only, save of courseto the few entrusted with the secret. 

The whirligig of time continued as ever to speed on its course, and bringround in due season its destined revenges. The health, mental and bodily, of Miss Brandon rapidly improved under the kind and judicious treatmentof Mr. And Mrs. Derwent; and long before the attainment of her majority, were pronounced by competent authority to be thoroughly re-established. The day following that which completed her twentyfirst year, Mr. Ferret, armed with the necessary authority, had the pleasure of announcing to therelict of Major Brandon (he had been dead some months), and to her brutalson, that they must forthwith depart from the home in which they, to thevery moment of his announcement, thought themselves secure; and surrenderevery shilling of the property they had so long dreamt was their own. They were prostrated by the intelligence, and proved as mean and servilein the hour of adversity, as they had been insolent and cruel in the dayof fancied success and prosperity. The pension of three hundred pounds ayear for both their lives, proffered by Miss Brandon, was eagerlyaccepted; and they returned to the obscurity from which they had byaccident emerged. 

About six months afterwards, I had the pleasure of drawing up themarriage settlement between Clara Brandon and Herbert Burford; and atwelvemonth after, that of standing sponsor to one of the lustiest bratsever sprinkled at a font: none of which delightful results, if we are tobelieve Mr. Ferret, would have ever been arrived at had not he, at a verycritical moment, refused to take counsel's opinion upon the virtues, capabilities, and powers contained in the great writ of _habeas corpusad subjiciendum_. 

ESTHER MASON. 

About forty years ago, Jabez Woodford, a foreman of shipwrights in thePlymouth dockyard, whilst carelessly crossing one of the transverse beamsof a seventy-four gun-ship, building in that arsenal, missed his footing, fell to the bottom of the hold of the huge vessel, and was killed on thespot. He left a widow and one child--a boy seven years of age, of placid, endearing disposition, but weak intellect--almost in a state ofdestitution. He had been a coarse-tempered, improvident man; and like toomany of his class, in those days at least, dissipated the whole of hislarge earnings in present sensuous indulgence, utterly careless orunmindful of the future. Esther Woodford, who, at the time of herhusband's death, scarcely numbered five-and-twenty years, was still aremarkably comely, as well as interesting, gentle-mannered person; andmoreover had, for her station in life, received a tolerable education. Her rash, ill-assorted marriage with Woodford had been hastily contractedwhen she was barely seventeen years of age, in consequence of a jealouspique which she, for some silly reason or other, had conceived regardingHenry Mason, an intelligent, young seafaring man, of fair prospects inlife, and frank disposition, with whom she had for some time previously, as the west-country phrase has it, "kept company, " and who was, moreover, tenderly attached to her. Esther's married life was one long repentanceof the rash act; and the severance of the tie which bound her to anungenial mate--after the subsidence of the natural horror and compassionexcited by the sudden and frightful nature of the catastrophe--must havebeen felt as a most blessed relief. A few weeks afterwards, she acceptedan asylum with her brother-in-law, Davies, a market-gardener in thevicinity of Plymouth, where, by persevering industry with her needle, andthrifty helpfulness in her sister's household duties, she endeavored tocompensate her kind-hearted relatives for the support of herself andhelpless, half-witted child. Mason she had never seen since the dayprevious to her marriage; but she knew he was prospering in the busyworld, and that, some time before her husband's death, he had beenappointed chief-mate in a first-class merchant-ship trading to thePacific. He had sailed about a fortnight previous to that event; and now, ten lazy months having slowly floated past, the lover of her youth, withwhom, in that last sunny day of her young life--how distant did it seem, viewed through the long intervening vista of days and nights of grief andtears!--she had danced so joyously beneath the flowering chestnut-trees, was once more near her; and it was--oh happiness!--no longer a sin tothink of him--no longer a crime to recall and dwell upon the numberlessproofs of the deep affection, the strong love, he had once felt for her. _Once_ felt! Perhaps even now!--How swiftly had the intelligencecommunicated by her sympathizing sister tinted with bright hues the darkcurtain of the future!

"And yet, " murmured poor Esther, the flush of hope fading as suddenly asit had arisen, as with meek sad eyes she glanced at the reflection of herfeatures in the small oval glass suspended above the mantel-piece--"Ialmost doubt, Susy, dear, if he would recognize me; even if old feelingsand old times have not long since faded from his memory"--

"Stuff and trumpery about fading away!" broke in Mrs. Davies. "HenryMason is the same true-hearted man he was eight years ago; and as aproof that he is, just read this letter, which I promised him to giveyou. There, don't go falling into a flustration; don't now, Esther, and to-morrow market-day and all! Don't cry, Esther, " she addedvehemently, but at the same time sobbing furiously herself, andthrowing her arms round her sister's neck: "but perhaps--perhaps itwill do us good, both of us!"

It may he necessary to state that I owe the foregoing particulars to theinterest felt by my wife--herself a native of beautiful Devon--in thefortunes of this humble household. Esther was her foster-sister; and ithappened that just at this period, it being vacation-time, we were payinga visit to a family in the neighborhood. A few hours after the receipt ofthe welcome letter, my wife chanced to call on Esther relative to somefancy needlework; and on her return, I was of course favored with veryfull and florid details of this little bit of cottage romance; the whichI, from regard to the reader, have carefully noted down, and as brieflyas possible expressed. 

We met Henry Mason with his recovered treasure on the following evening;and certainly a more favorable specimen of the vigorous, active, bold-featured, frank-spoken British seaman I never met with. To hiscomparatively excellent education--for which I understood he was indebtedto his mother, a superior woman, who, having fallen from one of thelittle heights of society, had kept a school at Plymouth--in addition tohis correct and temperate habits, he was indebted for the rapidadvance--he was but a few months older than Esther--he had obtained inthe merchant service. The happiness which beamed upon Esther's face didnot appear to be of the exuberant, buoyant character that kindled theruddy cheek and ran over at the bright, honest eyes of the hardy sailor:there seemed to mingle with it a half-doubting, tremblingapprehensiveness; albeit it was not difficult to perceive that, sorrowfully as had passed her noon of prime, an "Indian summer" of thesoul was rising upon her brightened existence, and already with its firstfaint flushes lighting up her meek, doubting eyes, and pale, changingcountenance. Willy, her feeble-minded child, frisked and gambolled bytheir side; and altogether, a happier group than they would, I fancy, have been difficult to find in all broad England. 

The next week they were married; and one of the partners in the firm bywhich Mason was employed happening to dine with us on the day of thewedding, the conversation turned for a few minutes on the bridegroom'scharacter and prospects. 

"He has the ring of true metal in him, " I remarked; "and is, I shouldsuppose, a capital seaman?"

"A first-rate one, " replied Mr. Roberts. "Indeed so high is my father'sopinion of him, that he intends to confer upon him the command of a finebrig now building for us in the Thames, and intended for the West Indiatrade. He possesses also singular courage and daring. Twice, under veryhazardous circumstances, he has successfully risked his life to save menwho had fallen overboard. He is altogether a skilful, gallant seaman. "

"Such a man, " observed another of the company, "might surely have aspiredhigher than to the hand of Esther Woodford, dove-eyed and interesting asshe may be?"

"Perhaps so, " returned Mr. Roberts a little curtly; "thoughhe, it seems, could not have thought so. Indeed it is chiefly ofsimple-hearted, chivalrous-minded men like Mason that it canbe with general truth observed--

'On revient toujours à ses premiers amours. '"

The subject then dropped, and it was a considerable time afterwards, andunder altogether altered circumstances, when the newly-married coupleonce more crossed my path in life. 

It was about eight months after his marriage--though he had beenprofitably enough employed in the interim--that Henry Mason, inconsequence of the welcome announcement that the new brig was at lastready for her captain and cargo, arrived in London to enter upon his newappointment. 

"These lodgings, Esther, " said he, as he was preparing to go out, soonafter breakfast, on the morning after his arrival, "are scarcely thething; and as I, like you, am a stranger in Cockney-land, I had betterconsult some of the firm upon the subject, before we decide uponpermanent ones. In the meantime, you and Willy must mind and keep indoors when I am not with you, or I shall have one or other of you lost inthis great wilderness of a city. I shall return in two or three hours. Iwill order something for dinner as I go along: I have your purse. Good-by: God bless you both. "

Inquiring his way every two or three minutes, Mason presently foundhimself in the vicinity of Tower Stairs. A scuffle in front of apublic-house attracted his attention; and his ready sympathies were in aninstant enlisted in behalf of a young sailor, vainly struggling in thegrasp of several athletic men, and crying lustily on the gapingbystanders for help. Mason sprang forward, caught one of the assailantsby the collar, and hurled him with some violence against the wall. Afierce outcry greeted this audacious interference with gentlemen who, inthose good old times, were but executing the law in a remarkably good oldmanner. Lieutenant Donnagheu, a somewhat celebrated snapper-up of loosemariners, emerged upon the scene; and in a few minutes was enabled toexult in the secure possession of an additional prize in the unfortunateHenry Mason, who, too late, discovered that he had embroiled himself witha _pressgang_! Desperate, frenzied were the efforts he made to extricatehimself from the peril in which he had rashly involved himself. In vain!His protestations that he was a mate, a captain, in the merchant service, were unheeded or mocked at. 

To all his remonstrances he only got the professional answer--"Hismajesty wants you, and that is enough; so come along, and no moreabout it. "

Bruised, exhausted, almost mad, he was borne off in triumph to a boat, into which he was thrust with several others, and swiftly rowed off to areceiving-ship in the river. Even there his assertions and protestationswere of no avail. Nothing but an Admiralty order, the officer in commandcandidly told him, should effect his liberation. His majesty was in needof seamen; and he was evidently too smart a one to be deprived of theglory of serving his country. "You must therefore, " concluded theofficer, as he turned laughingly upon his heel, "do as thousands ofother fine fellows have been compelled to do--'grin and bear it. '" Inabout three weeks from the date of his impressment Mason found himselfserving in the Mediterranean on board the "Active" frigate, CaptainAlexander Gordon, without having been permitted one opportunity ofcommunicating with the shore. This was certainly very sharp, but it wasnot the less very _common_ practice in those great days of triumphantbattles by land and sea. 

Very drearily passed the time with the bereaved wife. Her husband hadpromised to send home something for dinner, and various groceries; yethour after hour went past, and nothing arrived. Morning flushed intonoon, day faded to twilight, and still the well-known and always eagerstep sounded not upon the stairs! What could have detained him from hiswife, shut up, imprisoned, as it were, in that hot, hurrying, stiflingcity? She feared to listen to the suggestions of her boding heart; andwith feverish restlessness ran out upon the landing, and peered over thestairs every time a knock or ring was heard at the street-door. Thisstrange behavior was, it seems, noticed by the landlady of thelodging-house, and injuriously interpreted. A knock came to the door, andthat person entered to know at what time _Mrs_. ----, she had forgottenthe young woman's name, expected the dinner, she, the landlady, hadundertaken to cook. 

Esther timidly replied that her husband had promised to return in two orthree hours at latest; and that she did not comprehend his continuedabsence--was indeed quite alarmed about it--

"Your husband!" said the woman, glancing insolently at Esther's figure. "Are you sure he _is_ your husband?"

The hot blood suffused the temples of the indignant wife as she said, "This apartment, madam, I believe is mine?"

"Oh, certainly, as long as you can pay for it;" and rudely slamming thedoor, the landlady departed. 

The long wretched night at last over, Esther rose with the light; andafter giving her son his breakfast from the remains of that of the daybefore, set off with him to the place of business of the Messrs. Roberts. It was early, and one clerk only had as yet arrived at the office. Heinformed her that Mr. Henry Mason had not been seen, and that thepartners were greatly annoyed about it, as his immediate presence wasabsolutely necessary. 

Stunned, terrified, bewildered by the frightful calamity which shebelieved had befallen her, she felt convinced that her husband had beenentrapped and murdered for the sake of the money he had about him: thewretched woman tottered back to her lodgings, and threw herself on thebed in wild despair. What was to be done for food even for her boy? Herhusband had not only his pocket-book with him containing his largermoney, but had taken her purse! She was alone and penniless in a strangecity! The hungry wailings of her witless child towards evening at lengtharoused her from the stupor of despair into which she had fallen. Themiserable resource of pawning occurred to her: she could at least, bypledging a part of her wardrobe, procure sustenance for her child tillshe could hear from her sister; and with trembling hands she beganarranging a bundle of such things as she could best spare, when thelandlady abruptly entered the room, with a peremptory demand--as herhusband was not returned, and did not appear likely to do so--for amonth's rent in advance, that being the term the apartments were engagedfor. The tears, entreaties, expostulations of the miserable wife were ofno avail. Not one article, the woman declared, should leave her housetill her claim was settled. She affected to doubt, perhaps really did so, that Esther was married; and hinted coarsely at an enforcement of thelaws against persons who had no visible means of subsistence. In aparoxysm of despair, the unhappy woman rushed out of the house; andaccompanied by her hungry child, again sought the counting-house of theMessrs. Roberts. She was now as much too late as she had been too earlyin the morning: the partners and clerks had gone, and she appears to havebeen treated with some rudeness by the porter, who was closing thepremises when she arrived. Possibly the wildness of her looks, and theincoherence of her speech and manner, produced an impression unfavorableto her. Retracing her steps--penniless, hungry, sick at heart--shethought, as she afterwards declared, that she recognized my wife in oneof the numerous ladies seated before the counters of a fashionable shopin one of the busiest thoroughfares. She entered, and not till sheapproached close to the lady discovered her mistake. She turneddespairingly away; when a piece of rich lace, lying apparently unheededon the counter, met her eye, and a dreadful suggestion crossed herfevered brain; here at least was the means of procuring food for herwailing child. She glanced hastily and fearfully round. No eye, shethought, observed her; and, horror of horrors! a moment afterwards shehad concealed the lace beneath her shawl, and with tottering feet washastily leaving the shop. She had not taken half-a-dozen steps when aheavy hand was laid upon her shoulder, and a voice, as of a serpenthissing in her ear, commanded her to restore the lace she had stolen. Transfixed with shame and terror, she stood rooted to the spot, and thelace fell on the floor. 

"Fetch an officer, " said the harsh voice, addressing one of the shopmen. 

"No--no--no!" screamed the wretched woman, falling on her knees in wildsupplication. "For my child's sake--in mercy of the innocent babe as yetunborn--pity and forgive me!"

The harsh order was iterated; and Esther Mason, fainting with shame andagony, was conveyed to the prison in Giltspur Street. The next day shewas fully committed to Newgate on the capital charge of privatelystealing in a shop to the value of five pounds. A few hours after herincarceration within those terrible walls, she was prematurely deliveredof a female child. 

I have no moral doubt whatever, I never have had, that at the time of thecommittal of the felonious act, the intellect of Esther Mason wasdisordered. Any other supposition is inconsistent with the whole tenorof her previous life and character "Lead us not into temptation" isindeed the holiest, because the humblest prayer. 

Three weeks had elapsed before the first intimation of these eventsreached me, in a note from the chaplain of Newgate, an excellent, kind-hearted man, to whom Mrs. Mason had confided her sad story. Iimmediately hastened to the prison; and in a long interview with her, elicited the foregoing statement. I readily assured her that all whichlegal skill could do to extricate her from the awful position in whichshe stood, the gravity of which I did not affect to conceal, should bedone. The offence with which she was charged had supplied the scaffoldwith numberless victims; and tradesmen were more than ever clamorous forthe stern execution of a law which, spite of experience, they stillregarded as the only safeguard of their property. My wife was overwhelmedwith grief; and in her anxiety to save her unhappy foster-sister, sought, without my knowledge, an interview with the prosecutor, in the hope ofinducing him not to press the charge. Her efforts were unavailing. He hadsuffered much, he said, from such practices, and was "upon principle"determined to make an example of every offender he could catch. As to theplea that the husband had been forcibly carried off by a pressgang, itwas absurd; for what would become of the property of tradesmen if thewife of every sailor so entrapped were to be allowed to plunder shopswith impunity? This magnificent reasoning was of course unanswerable; andthe rebuked petitioner abandoned her bootless errand in despair. Messrs. Roberts, I should have mentioned, had by some accident discovered thenature of the misfortune which had befallen their officer, and hadalready made urgent application to the Admiralty for his release. 

The Old Bailey sessions did not come on for some time: I, however, tookcare to secure at once, as I did not myself practice in that court, thehighest talent which its bar afforded. Willy, who had been placed in aworkhouse by the authorities, we had properly taken care of till he couldbe restored to his mother; or, in the event of her conviction, to hisrelatives in Devonshire. 

The sessions were at last on: a "true bill" against Esther Mason forshoplifting, as it was popularly termed, was unhesitatingly found, andwith a heavy heart I wended my way to the court to watch the proceedings. A few minutes after I entered, Mr. Justice Le Blanc and Mr. Baron Wood, who had assisted at an important case of stockjobbing conspiracy, justover, left the bench: the learned recorder being doubtless consideredquite equal to the trial of a mere capital charge of theft. 

The prisoner was placed in the dock; but try as I might, I could notlook at her. It happened to be a calm bright summer day; the air, as ifin mockery of those death-sessions, humming with busy, lusty life; sothat, sitting with my back to the prisoner, I could, as it were, readher demeanor in the shadow thrown by her figure on the oppositesun-lighted wall. There she stood, during the brief moments which sealedher earthly doom, with downcast eyes and utterly dejected posture; herthin fingers playing mechanically with the flowers and sweet-scentedherbs spread scantily before her. The trial was very brief: theevidence, emphatically conclusive, was confidently given, and vainlycross-examined. Nothing remained but an elaborate _ad misericordiam_excusative defence, which had been prepared by me, and which theprisoner begged her counsel might be allowed to read. This was of courserefused; the recorder remarking, they might as well allow counsel forfelons to _address_ juries, as read defences; and _that_, as everypractical man knew, would be utterly subversive of the dueadministration of justice. The clerk of the court would read the paper, if the prisoner felt too agitated to do so. This was done; and veryvilely done. The clerk, I dare say, read as well as he was able; butold, near-sighted, and possessed of anything but a clear enunciation, what could be expected? The defence, so read, produced not the slightesteffect either on the court or jury. The recorder briefly commented onthe conclusiveness of the evidence for the prosecution; and the jury, inthe same brief, business-like manner, returned a verdict of Guilty. 

"What have you to say, " demanded the clerk, "why sentence of death shouldnot be pronounced upon you, according to law?"

The shadow started convulsively as the terrible words fell from the man'slips; and I saw that the suddenly-upraised eyes of the prisoner werefastened on the face of the fearful questioner. The lips, too, appearedto move; but no sound reached my ears. 

"Speak, woman, " said the recorder; "if you have anything to urge beforesentence is pronounced. "

I started up, and turning to the prisoner, besought her in hurriedaccents to speak. "Remind them of the infant at your breast--yourhusband"--

"Who is that conferring with the prisoner?" demanded the judge in anangry voice. 

I turned, and confronted him with a look as cold and haughty as hisown. He did not think proper to pursue the inquiry further; and aftermuttering something about the necessity of not interrupting theproceedings of the court, again asked the prisoner if she hadanything to urge. 

"Not for myself--not for my sake, " at last faintly murmured thetrembling woman; "but for that of my poor dear infant--my poor witlessboy! I do not think, sir, I was in my right mind. I was starving. I wasfriendless. My husband, too, whom you have heard"--She stopped abruptly;a choking sob struggled in her throat; and but for the supporting arm ofone of the turnkeys, she would have fallen to the ground. 

"Unhappy, guilty woman, " said the recorder, with the coolness of a demon, "the plea of insanity you would set up is utterly untenable. Yourhusband, it seems, is serving his majesty in the royal navy; defendinghis country, whilst his wife was breaking its laws, by the commission ofa crime which, but for the stern repression of the law, would sap thefoundations of the security of property, and"--

I could endure no more. The atmosphere of the court seemed to stifle me;and I rushed for relief into the open air. Before, however, I had reachedthe street, a long, piercing scream informed me that the learned judge_had done his duty_. 

No effort was spared during the interval which elapsed previous to therecorder presenting his report to the privy-counsel--a peculiarprivilege at that time attached to the office--to procure a mitigationof the sentence. A petition, setting forth the peculiar circumstancesof the case, was carefully prepared; and by the indefatigable exertionsof an excellent Quaker gentleman--whom, as he is still alive, and mightnot choose to have his name blazoned to the world, I will call WilliamFriend--was soon very numerously signed. The prosecutor, however, obstinately refused to attach his name to the document; and the absenceof his signature--so strangely did men reason on such matters in thosedays--would, it was feared, weigh heavily against the success of thepetition. The amiable and enlightened Sir Samuel Romilly not onlyattached his name, but aided us zealously by his advice and influence. In short, nothing was omitted that appeared likely to attain thedesired object. 

Two days before the petition was to be forwarded to the proper quarter, Henry Mason arrived in England, the exertions of his employers havingprocured his discharge. The "Active" was one of Captain Hoste's squadron, which obtained the celebrated victory off Lissa, over the Franco-Venetianfleet commanded by Admiral Dobourdieu. Henry Mason, it appeared by thetestimonials of the captain and officers of his ship, had greatlydistinguished himself in the action. We inclosed these papers with thepetition; and then, having done all in our power, awaited with anxiousimpatience the result of the recorder's report. It was announced to me, as I was sitting somewhat later than usual at chambers, by Mr. WilliamFriend. The judgment to die was confirmed! All our representations hadnot sufficed to counterbalance the supposed necessity of exhibitingterrible examples of the fate awaiting the perpetrators of an offencesaid to be greatly on the increase. Excellent William Friend wept like achild as he made the announcement. 

There are many persons alive who recollect this horrible tragedy--thisnational disgrace--this act of gross barbarity on the part of the greatpersonage, who, first having carried off the poor woman's husband, lefther to die for an act the very consequence of that robbery. Who among thespectators can ever forget that heart-rending scene--the hangman takingthe baby from the breast of the wretched creature just before he put herto death! But let us not rake up these terrible reminiscences. Let ushope that the _truly guilty_ are forgiven. And let us take consolationfrom reflecting that this event led the great Romilly to enter on hiscelebrated career as a reformer of the criminal law. 

The remains of Esther Mason were obtained from the Newgate officials, and quietly interred in St. Sepulchre's church-yard. A plain slab, withher name only plainly chiselled upon it, was some time afterwards placedabove the grave. A few years ago I attended a funeral in the samegrave-yard; and after a slight search, discovered the spot. Theinscription, though of course much worn, was still quite legible. 

I had not seen Henry Mason since his return; but I was glad to hear fromMr. William Friend that, after the first passionate burst of rage andgrief had subsided, he had, apparently at least, thanks to the tender andpious expostulations of his wife--with whom, by the kind intervention ofthe sheriffs, he was permitted long and frequent interviews--settled downinto calmness and resignation. One thing only he would not bear to heareven from her, and that was any admission that she had been guilty of, even the slightest offence. A hint of the kind, however unintentional, would throw him into a paroxysm of fury; and the subject was consequentlyin his presence studiously avoided. 

A few days after the execution, Mr. William Friend called on me justafter breakfast, accompanied by the bereaved husband. I never saw sochanged a man. All the warm kindliness of his nature had vanished, andwas replaced by a gloomy fierce austerity, altogether painful tocontemplate. 

"Well, sir, " said he, as he barely touched my proffered hand, "they havekilled her, you see, spite of all you could say or do. It much availedme, too, that I had helped to win their boasted victories;" and helaughed with savage bitterness. 

"Henry--Henry!" exclaimed William Friend, in a reproving accent. 

"Well, well, sir, " rejoined Mason, impatiently, "you are a good man, andhave of course your own notions on these matters; I also have mine. Or, perhaps, you think it is only the blood of the rich and great which, shedunjustly, brings forth the iron harvest? Forgive me, " he added, checkinghimself. "I respect you both; but my heart is turned to stone. You do notknow--none ever knew but I--how kind, how loving, how gentle was thatpoor long-suffering girl. "

He turned from us to hide the terrible agony which convulsed him. 

"Henry, " said Mr. Friend, taking him kindly by the hand, "we pity theesincerely, as thou knowest; but thy bitter, revengeful expressions areunchristian, sinful. The authorities whom thou, not for the first time, railest on so wildly, acted, be sure of it, from a sense of duty; amistaken one, in my opinion, doubtless; still"--

"Say no more, sir, " interrupted Mason. "We differ in opinion upon thesubject. And now, gentlemen, farewell. I wished to see you, sir, before Ileft this country forever, to thank you for your kind, though fruitlessexertions. Mr. Friend has promised to be steward for poor Willy of all Ican remit for his use. Farewell! God bless you both!" He was gone!

War soon afterwards broke out with the United States of America, and Mr. Friend discovered that one of the most active and daring officers in theRepublican navy was Henry Mason, who had entered the American service inthe maiden name of his wife; and that the large sums he had remitted fromtime to time for the use of Willy, were the produce of his successfuldepredations on British commerce. The instant Mr. Friend made thediscovery, he refused to pollute his hands with moneys so obtained, anddeclined all further agency in the matter. Mason, however, contrived toremit through some other channel to the Davies's, with whom the boy hadbeen placed; and a rapid improvement in their circumstances was soonvisible. These remittances ceased about the middle of 1814; and atwelvemonth after the peace with America, we ascertained that Henry Masonhad been killed in the battle on Lake Champlain, where he haddistinguished himself, as everywhere else, by the reckless daring andfurious hate with which he fought against the country which, in hisunreasoning frenzy, he accused of the murder of his wife. He wasrecognized by one of his former messmates in the "Active;" who, conveyeda prisoner on board the American commander Macdonough's ship, recognizedhim as he lay stretched on the deck, in the uniform of an American navalofficer; his countenance, even in death, wearing the same stormfuldefiant expression which it assumed on the day that his beloved Estherperished on the scaffold. 

THE MARRIAGE SETTLEMENT

"It is really time that a properly-qualified governess had charge ofthose girls, " observed my wife, as Mary and Kate after a more thanusually boisterous romp with their papa, left the room for bed. I mayhere remark, _inter alia_, that I once surprised a dignified andhighly-distinguished judge at a game of blindman's buff with hischildren, and very heartily he appeared to enjoy it too. "It is reallytime that a properly-qualified governess had charge of those girls. SusanMay did very well as a nursery teacher, but they are now far beyond hercontrol. _I_ cannot attend to their education, and as for you"--Thesentence was concluded by a shrug of the shoulders and a toss of thehead, eloquently expressive of the degree of estimation in which _my_governing powers were held. 

"Time enough, surely, for that, " I exclaimed, as soon as I had composedmyself; for I was a little out of breath. "They may, I think, rub alongwith Susan for another year or two, Mary is but seven years of age"--

"Eight years, if you please. She was eight years old last Thursdaythree weeks. "

"Eight years! Then we must have been married nine; Bless me, how the timehas flown: it seems scarcely so many weeks!"

"Nonsense, " rejoined my wife with a sharpness of tone and a rigidity offacial muscle which, considering the handsome compliment I had just paidher, argued, I was afraid, a foregone conclusion. "You always haverecourse to some folly of that sort whenever I am desirous of enteringinto a serious consultation on family affairs. "

There was some truth in this, I confess. The "consultations" which Ifound profitable were not serious ones with my wife upon domesticmatters; leading, as they invariably did, to a diminution instead of anincrease of the little balance at the banker's. If such a propositioncould therefore be evaded or adjourned by even an extravagant compliment, I considered it well laid out. But the expedient, I found, was one whichdid not improve by use. For some time after marriage it answeredremarkably well; but each succeeding year of wedded bliss marked itsrapidly-declining efficacy. 

"Well, well; go on. "

"I say it is absolutely necessary that a first-rate governess should beat once engaged. Lady Maldon has been here to-day, and she"--

"Oh, I thought it might be her new ladyship's suggestion. I wish the'fountain of honor' was somewhat charier of its knights and ladies, andthen perhaps"--

"What, for mercy's sake, are you running on about?" interrupted the ladywith peremptory emphasis. "Fountains of honor, forsooth! One wouldsuppose, to hear you talk in that wild, nonsensical way, that you wereaddressing a bench of judges sitting in _banco_, instead of a sensibleperson solicitous for her and your children's welfare. "

"Bless the woman, " thought I; "what an exalted idea she appears to haveof forensic eloquence! Proceed, my love, " I continued; "there is adifference certainly; and I am all attention. "

"Lady Maldon knows a young lady--a distant relative, in deed, ofhers--whom she is anxious to serve"--

"At our expense. "

"How can you be so ungenerous? Edith Willoughby is the orphan daughter ofthe late Reverend Mr. Willoughby, curate of Heavy Tree in Warwickshire, Ibelieve; and was specially educated for a first-class governess andteacher. She speaks French with the true Parisian accent, and herItalian, Lady Maldon assures me, is pure Tuscan"--

"He-e-e-m!"

"She dances with grace and elegance; plays the harp and piano with skilland taste; is a thorough _artiste_ in drawing and painting; and is, moreover, very handsome--though beauty, I admit, is an attribute which ina governess might be very well dispensed with. "

"True; unless, indeed, it were catching. "

I need not prolong this connubial dialogue. It is sufficient to statethat Edith Willoughby was duly installed in office on the following day;and that, much to my surprise, I found that her qualifications for thecharge she had undertaken were scarcely overcolored. She was awell-educated, elegant, and beautiful girl, of refined and fascinatingmanners, and possessed of one of the sweetest, gentlest dispositions thatever charmed and graced the family and social circle. She was, I oftenthought, for her own chance of happiness, too ductile, too readilyyielding to the wishes and fancies of others. In a very short time I cameto regard her as a daughter, and with my wife and children she wasspeedily a prodigious favorite. Mary and Kate improved rapidly under herjudicious tuition, and I felt for once positively grateful to busy LadyMaldon for her officious interference in my domestic arrangements. 

Edith Willoughby had been domiciled with us about two years, when Mr. Harlowe, a gentleman of good descent and fine property, had occasion tocall several times at my private residence on business relating to thepurchase of a house in South Audley Street, the title to which exhibitedby the venders was not of the most satisfactory kind. On one occasion hestayed to dine with us, and I noticed that he seemed much struck by theappearance of our beautiful and accomplished governess. His evidentemotion startled and pained me in a much higher degree than I could haveeasily accounted for even to myself. Mr. Harlowe was a widower, past hisfirst youth certainly, but scarcely more than two or three-and-thirtyyears of age, wealthy, not ill-looking, and, as far as I knew, of averagecharacter in society. Surely an excellent match, if it should come tothat, for an orphan girl rich only in fine talents and gentle affections. But I could not think so. I disliked the man--_instinctively_ dislikedand distrusted him; for I could assign no very positive motive for myantipathy. 

"The reason why, I cannot tell, But I don't like thee, Dr. Fell. "

These lines indicate an unconquerable feeling which most persons have, Ipresume, experienced; and which frequently, I think, results from a kindof cumulative evidence of uncongeniality or unworthiness, made up of anumber of slight indices of character, which, separately, may appear oflittle moment, but altogether, produce a strong, if undefinable, feelingof aversion. Mr. Harlowe's manners were bland, polished, and insinuating;his conversation was sparkling and instructive; but a cold sneer seemedto play habitually about his lips, and at times there glanced forth aconcentrated, polished ferocity--so to speak--from his eyes, revealinghard and stony depths, which I shuddered to think a being so pure andgentle as Edith might be doomed to sound and fathom. That he was a man ofstrong passions and determination of will, was testified by every curveof his square, massive head, and every line of his full countenance. 

My aversion--reasonable or otherwise, as it might be--was not shared byMiss Willoughby; and it was soon apparent that, fascinated, intoxicatedby her extreme beauty (the man was, I felt, incapable of love in itshigh, generous, and spiritual sense), Mr. Harlowe had determined onoffering his hand and fortune to the unportioned orphan. He did so, andwas accepted. I did not conceal my dislike of her suitor from Edith; andmy wife--who, with feminine exaggeration of the hints I threw out, hadset him down as a kind of polished human tiger--with tears intreated herto avoid the glittering snare. We of course had neither right nor powerto push our opposition beyond friendly warning and advice; and when wefound, thanks to Lady Maldon, who was vehemently in favor of thematch--to, in Edith's position, the dazzling temptation of a splendidestablishment, and to Mr. Harlowe's eloquent and impassionedpleadings--that the rich man's offer was irrevocably accepted, we ofcourse forebore from continuing a useless and irritating resistance. LadyMaldon had several times very plainly intimated that our aversion to themarriage arose solely from a selfish desire of retaining the services ofher charming relative; so prone are the mean and selfish to imputemeanness and selfishness to others. 

I might, however, I reflected, be of service to Miss Willoughby, bysecuring for her such a marriage settlement as would place her beyond thereach of one possible consequence of caprice and change. I spoke to Mr. Harlowe on the subject; and he, under the influence of headstrong, eagerpassion, gave me, as I expected, _carte blanche_. I availed myself of thelicense so readily afforded: a deed of settlement was drawn up, signed, sealed, and attested in duplicate the day before the wedding; and EdithWilloughby, as far as wealth and position in society were concerned, hadundoubtedly made a surprisingly good bargain. 

It happened that just as Lady Maldon, Edith Willoughby, and Mr. Harlowewere leaving my chambers after the execution of the deed, Mr. Ferret theattorney appeared on the stairs. His hands were full of papers, and hewas, as usual, in hot haste; but he stopped abruptly as his eye fell uponthe departing visitors, looked with startled earnestness at MissWilloughby, whom he knew, and then glanced at Mr. Harlowe with anexpression of angry surprise. That gentleman, who did not appear torecognize the new-comer, returned his look with a supercilious, contemptuous stare, and passed on with Edith--who had courteously salutedthe inattentive Mr. Ferret--followed by Lady Maldon. 

"What is the meaning of that ominous conjunction?" demanded Mr. Ferret asthe affianced pair disappeared together. 

"Marriage, Mr. Ferret! Do you know any just cause or impediment why theyshould not be joined together in holy wedlock?"

"The fellow's wife is dead then?"

"Yes; she died about a twelvemonth ago. Did you know her?"

"Not personally; by reputation only. A country attorney, Richards ofBraintree, for whom I transact London business sent me the draught of adeed of separation--to which the unfortunate lady, rather than continueto live with her husband, had consented--for counsel's opinion. I had aninterview with Mr. Harlowe himself upon the business; but I see heaffects to have forgotten me. I do not know much of the merits of thecase, but according to Richards--no great shakes of a fellow, betweenourselves--the former Mrs. Harlowe was a martyr to her husband'scalculated virulence and legal--at least not _illegal_, a greatdistinction, in my opinion, though not so set down in thebooks--despotism. He espoused her for her wealth: that secured, he wasdesirous of ridding himself of the incumbrance to it. A common case!--andnow, if you please, to business. "

I excused myself, as did my wife, from being present at the wedding; buteverything, I afterwards heard, passed off with great _éclat_. Thebridegroom was all fervor and obsequiousness; the bride all bashfulnessand beauty. The "happy pair, " I saw by the afternoon newspapers, were topass the honeymoon at Mr. Harlowe's seat, Fairdown Park. The evening ofthe marriage-day was anything, I remember, but a pleasant one to me. Ireached home by no means hilariously disposed, where I was greeted, byway of revival, with the intelligence that my wife, after listening withgreat energy to Lady Maldon's description of the wedding festivities fortwo tremendous hours, had at last been relieved by copious hysteria, andthat Mary and Kate were in a fair way--if the exploit could beaccomplished by perseverance--of crying themselves to sleep. These wereour bridal compliments; much more flattering, I imagine, if not quite sohoney-accented, as the courtly phrases with which the votaries and thevictims of Hymen are alike usually greeted. 

Time, business, worldly hopes and cares, the triumphs and defeats of anexciting profession, gradually weakened the impression made upon me bythe gentle virtues of Edith Willoughby; and when, about fifteen monthsafter the wedding, my wife informed me that she had been accosted by Mrs. Harlowe at a shop in Bond Street, my first feeling was one of surprise, not untinged with resentment, for what I deemed her ungrateful neglect. 

"She recognized you then?" I remarked. 

"Recognized me! What do you mean?"

"I thought perhaps she might have forgotten your features, as sheevidently has our address. "

"If you had seen, " replied my wife, "how pale, how cold, how utterlydesolate she looked, you would think less hardly of her. As soon as sheobserved me, a slight scream escaped her; and then she glanced eagerlyand tremblingly around like a startled fawn. Her husband had passed outof the shop to give, I think, some direction to the coachman. Shetottered towards me, and clasping me in her arms, burst into a passion oftears. "Oh, why--why, " I asked as soon as I could speak, "why have younot written to us?" "I dared not!" she gasped. "But oh tell me, doyou--does your husband remember me with kindness? Can I still reckon onhis protection--his support?" I assured her you would receive her as yourown child: the whispered words had barely passed my lips, when Mr. Harlowe, who had swiftly approached us unperceived, said, "Madam, thecarriage waits. " His stern, pitiless eye glanced from his wife to me, andstiffly bowing, he said, "Excuse me for interrupting your conversation;but time presses. Good-day. " A minute afterwards, the carriage droveoff. "

I was greatly shocked at this confirmation of my worst fears; and Imeditated with intense bitterness on the fate of a being of such meektenderness exposed to the heartless brutalities of a sated sensualistlike Harlowe. But what could be done? She had chosen, deliberately, and after warning, chosen her lot, and must accept the consequences ofher choice. In all the strong statutes, and sharp biting laws ofEngland, there can be found no clause wherewith to shield a woman fromthe "regulated" meanness and despotism of an unprincipled husband. Resignation is the sole remedy, and therein the patient must ministerto herself. 

On the morning of the Sunday following Edith's brief interview with mywife, and just as we were about to leave the house to attend divineservice, a cab drove furiously up to the door, and a violent summons byboth knocker and bell announced the arrival of some strangely-impatientvisitor. I stepped out upon the drawing-room landing, and looked over thebanister rail, curious to ascertain who had honored me with so peremptorya call. The door was quickly opened, and in ran, or rather staggered, Mrs. Harlowe, with a child in long clothes in her arms. 

"Shut--shut the door!" she faintly exclaimed, as she sank on one of thehall seats. "Pray shut the door--I am pursued!"

I hastened down, and was just in time to save her from falling on thefloor. She had fainted. I had her carried up stairs, and by the aid ofproper restoratives, she gradually recovered consciousness. The child, agirl about four months old, was seized upon by Mary and Kate, and carriedoff in triumph to the nursery. Sadly changed, indeed, as by the sicknessof the soul, was poor Edith. The radiant flush of youth and hoperendering her sweet face eloquent of joy and pride, was replaced by thecold, sad hues of wounded affections and proud despair. I could read inher countenance, as in a book, the sad record of long months of wearingsorrow, vain regrets, and bitter self-reproach. Her person, too, had lostits rounded, airy, graceful outline, and had become thin and angular. Her voice, albeit, was musical and gentle as ever, as she murmured, onrecovering her senses, "You will protect me from my--from that man?" As Iwarmly pressed her hand, in emphatic assurance that I would shield heragainst all comers, another loud summons was heard at the door. A minuteafterwards, a servant entered, and announced that Mr. Harlowe waited forme below. I directed he should be shown into the library; and afteriterating my assurance to Edith that she was quite safe from violencebeneath my roof, and that I would presently return to hear herexplanation of the affair, I went down stairs. 

Mr. Harlowe, as I entered, was pacing rapidly up and down the apartment. He turned to face me; and I thought he looked even more perturbed andanxious than vengeful and angry. He, however, as I coldly bowed, anddemanded his business with me, instantly assumed a bullying air and tone. 

"Mrs. Harlowe is here: she has surreptitiously left South Audley Streetin a hired cab, and I have traced her to this house. "

"Well?"

"Well! I trust it is well; and I insist that she instantly return toher home. "

"Her _home_!"

I used the word with an expression significative only of my sense of thesort of "home" he had provided for the gentle girl he had sworn to loveand cherish; but the random shaft found a joint in his armor at which itwas not aimed. He visibly trembled, and turned pale. 

"She has had time to tell you all then! But be assured, sir, that nothingshe has heard or been told, however true it may be--_may_ be, remember, I say--can be legally substantiated except by myself. "

What could the man mean? I was fairly puzzled: but, professionallyaccustomed to conceal emotions of surprise and bewilderment, I coldlyreplied--"I have left the lady who has sought the protection of her true'home, ' merely to ascertain the reason of this visit. "

"The reason of my visit!" he exclaimed with renewed fury: "to reconveyher to South Audley Street. What else? If you refuse to give her up, Ishall apply to the police. "

I smiled, and approached the bell. 

"You will not surrender her then?"

"To judicial process only: of that be assured. I have little doubt that, when I am placed in full possession of all the facts of the case, I shallbe quite able to justify my conduct. " He did not reply, and I continued:"If you choose to wait here till I have heard Edith's statement, I willat once frankly acquaint you with my final determination. "

"Be it so: and please to recollect, sir, that you have to deal with a mannot easily baffled or entrapped by legal subtlety or cunning. "

I reascended to the drawing-room; and finding Edith--thanks to theministrations, medicinal and oral, of my bustling and indignantlady--much calmer, and thoroughly satisfied that nobody could or shouldwrest her from us, begged her to relate unreservedly the cause or causeswhich had led to her present position. She falteringly complied; and Ilistened with throbbing pulse and burning cheeks to the sad story of herwedded wretchedness, dating from within two or three months of themarriage; and finally consummated by a disclosure that, if provable, might consign Harlowe to the hulks. The tears, the agony, the despair ofthe unhappy lady, excited in me a savageness of feeling, an eager thirstfor vengeance, which I had believed foreign to my nature. Edith divinedmy thoughts, and taking my hand, said, "Never, sir, never will I appearagainst him: the father of my little Helen shall never be publiclyaccused by me. "

"You err, Edith, " I rejoined; "it is a positive duty to bring soconsummate a villain to justice. He has evidently calculated on yourgentleness of disposition, and must be disappointed. "

I soon, however, found it was impossible to shake her resolution onthis point; and I returned with a heart full of grief and bitterness toMr. Harlowe. 

"You will oblige me, sir, " I exclaimed as I entered the room, "byleaving this house immediately: I would hold no further converse with sovile a person. "

"How! Do you know to whom you presume to speak in this manner?"

"Perfectly. You are one Harlowe, who, after a few months' residence witha beautiful and amiable girl, had extinguished the passion which inducedhim to offer her marriage, showered on her every species of insult andindignity of which a cowardly and malignant nature is capable; and who, finding that did not kill her, at length consummated, or revealed, I donot yet know which term is most applicable, his utter baseness by causingher to be informed that his first wife was still living. "

"Upon my honor, sir, I believed, when I married Miss Willoughby, that Iwas a widower. "

"Your _honor!_ But except to prove that I _do_ thoroughly know andappreciate the person I am addressing, I will not bandy words with you. After that terrible disclosure--if, indeed, it be a disclosure, not aninvention--Ah, you start at that"

"At your insolence, sir; not at your senseless surmises. "

"Time and the law will show. After, I repeat, this terrible disclosure orinvention, you, not content with obtaining from your victim's generositya positive promise that she would not send you to the hulks"--

"Sir, have a care. "

"Pooh! I say, not content with exacting this promise from your victim, you, with your wife, or accomplice, threatened not only to take her childfrom her, but to lock her up in a madhouse, unless she subscribed apaper, confessing that she knew, when you espoused her, that you were amarried man. Now, sir, do I, or do I not, thoroughly know who and whatthe man is I am addressing?"

"Sir, " returned Harlowe, recovering his audacity somewhat. "Spite of allyour hectoring and abuse, I defy you to obtain proof--legalproof--whether what Edith has heard is true or false. The affair mayperhaps be arranged; let her return with me. "

"You know she would die first; but it is quite useless to prolong thisconversation; and I again request you to leave this house. "

"If Miss Willoughby would accept an allowance"--

The cool audacity of this proposal to make me an instrument incompromising a felony exasperated me beyond all bounds. I rang the bellviolently, and desired the servant who answered it to show Mr. Harloweout of the house. Finding further persistence useless, the baffledvillain snatched up his hat, and with a look and gesture of rage andcontempt, hurried out of the apartment. 

The profession of a barrister necessarily begets habits of coolness andreflection under the most exciting circumstances; but, I confess, that inthis instance my ordinary equanimity was so much disturbed, that it wassome time before I could command sufficient composure to reason calmlyupon the strange revelations made to me by Edith, and the nature of themeasures necessary to adopt in order to clear up the mystery attaching tothem. She persisted in her refusal to have recourse to legal measureswith a view to the punishment of Harlowe; and I finally determined--aftera conference with Mr. Ferret, who, having acted for the first Mrs. Harlowe, I naturally conjectured must know something of her history andconnections--to take for the present no ostensible steps in the matter. Mr. Ferret, like myself, was persuaded that the sham resuscitation of hisfirst wife was a mere trick, to enable Harlowe to rid himself of thepresence of a woman he no longer cared for. "I will take an opportunity, "said Mr. Ferret, "of quietly questioning Richards: he must have known thefirst wife; Eleanor Wickham, I remember, was her maiden name; and if notbought over by Harlowe--a by-no-means impossible purchase--can set usright at once. I did not understand that the said Eleanor was at allcelebrated for beauty and accomplishments, such as you say MissWilloughby--Mrs. Harlowe, I mean--describes. She was a native ofDorsetshire too, I remember; and the foreign Italian accent you mention, is rarely, I fancy, picked up in that charming county. Some flashyopera-dancer, depend upon it, whom he has contracted a passing fancy for:a slippery gentleman certainly; but, with a little caution, we shall notfail to trip his heels up, clever as he may be. "

A stronger wrestler than either of us was upon the track of the unhappyman. Edith had not been with us above three weeks, when one of Mr. Harlowe's servants called at my chambers to say that his master, inconsequence of a wound he had inflicted on his foot with an axe, whilstamusing himself with cutting or pruning some trees in the grounds atFairdown, was seriously ill, and had expressed a wish to see me. Icould not leave town; but as it was important Mr. Harlowe should beseen, I requested Mr. Ferret to proceed to Fairdown House. He did so, and late in the evening returned with the startling intelligence thatMr. Harlowe was dead!

"Dead!" I exclaimed, much shocked. "Are you serious?" "As a judge. Heexpired, about an hour after I reached the house, of tetanus, commonlycalled locked-jaw. His body, by the contraction of the muscles, was bentlike a bow, and rested on his heels and the back part of his head. He wasincapable of speech long before I saw him; but there was a world ofagonized expression in his eyes!"

"Dreadful! Your journey was useless then?"

"Not precisely. I saw the pretended former wife: a splendid woman, and asmuch Eleanor Wickham of Dorsetshire as I am. They mean, however, to showfight, I think; for, as I left the place, I observed that delightfulknave Richards enter the house. I took the liberty of placing seals uponthe desks and cabinets, and directed the butler and other servants to seethat nothing was disturbed or removed till Mrs. Harlowe's--the true Mrs. Harlowe's--arrival. "

The funeral was to take place on the following Wednesday; and it wasfinally arranged that both of us would accompany Edith to Fairdown on theday after it had taken place, and adopt such measures as circumstancesmight render necessary. Mr. Ferret wrote to this effect to all partiesconcerned. 

On arriving at the house, I, Ferret, and Mrs. Harlowe, proceeded at onceto the drawing-room, where we found the pretended wife seated in greatstate, supported on one side by Mr. Richards, and on the other by Mr. Quillet the eminent proctor. Edith was dreadfully agitated, and clungfrightened and trembling to my arm. I conducted her to a seat, and placedmyself beside her, leaving Mr. Ferret--whom so tremendous an array of lawand learning, evincing a determination to fight the matter out _àl'outrance_, filled with exuberant glee--to open the conference. 

"Good-morning, madam, " cried he, the moment he entered the room, andquite unaffected by the lady's scornful and haughty stare: "good-morning;I am delighted to see you in such excellent company. You do not, I hope, forget that I once had the honor of transacting business for you?"

"You had transactions of my business!" said the lady, "When, I pray you?"

"God bless me!" cried Ferret, addressing Richards, "what a charmingItalian accent; and out of Dorsetshire too!"

"Dorsetshire, sir?" exclaimed the lady. 

"Ay, Dorsetshire, to be sure. Why, Mr. Richards, our respected clientappears to have forgotten her place of birth! How very extraordinary!"

Mr. Richards now interfered, to say that Mr. Ferret was apparentlylaboring under a strange misapprehension. "This lady, " continued he, "isMadame Giulletta Corelli. "

"Whe--e--e--w!" rejoined Ferret, thrown for an instant off his balance bythe suddenness of the confession, and perhaps a little disappointed at soplacable a termination of the dispute--"Giulletta Corelli! What is themeaning of this array then?"

"I am glad, madam, " said I, interposing for the first time in theconversation, "for your own sake, that you have been advised not topersist in the senseless as well as iniquitous scheme devised by the lateMr. Harlowe; but this being the case, I am greatly at a loss to know whyeither you or these legal gentlemen are here?"

The brilliant eyes of the Italian flashed with triumphant scorn, and asmile of contemptuous irony curled her beautiful lip as shereplied--"These legal gentlemen will not have much difficulty inexplaining my right to remain in my own house. "

"_Your_ house?"

"Precisely, sir, " replied Mr. Quillet. "This mansion, together with allother property, real and personal, of which the deceased Henry Harlowedied possessed, is bequeathed by will--dated about a month since--to thislady, Giulletta Corelli. "

"A will!" exclaimed Mr. Ferret with an explosive shout, and turning tome, whilst his sharp gray eyes danced with irrepressible mirth--"Did Inot tell you so?"

"Your usual sagacity, Mr. Ferret, has not in this instance failed you. Perhaps you will permit me to read the will? But before I do so, "continued Mr. Quillet, as he drew his gold-rimmed spectacles from theirmorocco sheath--"you will allow me, if you please, to state that thelegatee, delicately appreciating the position of the widow, will allowher any reasonable annuity--say five hundred pounds per annum for life. "

"Will she really though?" cried Mr. Ferret, boiling over with ecstacy. "Madam, let me beg of you to confirm this gracious promise. "

"Certainly I do. "

"Capital!--glorious!" rejoined Ferret; and I thought he was about toperform a salutatory movement, that must have brought his cranium intodamaging contact with the chandelier under which he was standing. "Isit not delightful? How every one--especially an attorney--loves agenerous giver!"

Mr. Richards appeared to be rendered somewhat uneasy by these strangedemonstrations. He knew Ferret well, and evidently suspected thatsomething was wrong somewhere. "Perhaps, Mr. Quillet, " said he, "you hadbetter read the will at once. "

This was done: the instrument devised in legal and minute form all theproperty, real and personal, to Giulletta Corelli--a natural-born subjectof his majesty, it appeared, though of foreign parentage, and ofpartially foreign education. 

"Allow me to say, " broke in Mr. Ferret, interrupting me as I was about tospeak--"allow me to say, Mr. Richards, that that will does you credit: itis, I should say, a first-rate affair, for a country practitionerespecially. But of course you submitted the draught to counsel?"

"Certainly I did, " said Richards tartly. 

"No doubt--no doubt. Clearness and precision like that could only haveproceeded from a master's hand. I shall take a copy of that will, Richards, for future guidance, you may depend, the instant it isregistered in Doctors' Commons. "

"Come, come, Mr. Ferret, " said I; "this jesting is all very well; but itis quite time the farce should end. "

"Farce!" exclaimed Mr. Richards. 

"Farce!" growled doubtful Mr. Quillet. 

"Farce!" murmured the beautiful Giulletta. 

"Farce!" cried Mr. Ferret. "My dear sir, it is about one of the mostcharming and genteel comedies ever enacted on any stage, and theprincipal part, too, by one of the most charming of prima donnas. Allowme, sir--don't interrupt me! it is too delicious to be shared; it is, indeed. Mr. Richards, and you, Mr. Quillet, will you permit me to observethat this admirable will has _one_ slight defect?"

"A defect!--where--how?"

"It is really heart-breaking that so much skill and ingenuity should bethrown away; but the fact is, gentlemen, that the excellent person whosigned it had no property to bequeath!"

"How?"

"Not a shilling's worth. Allow me, sir, if you please. This piece ofparchment, gentlemen, is, I have the pleasure to inform you, a marriagesettlement. "

"A marriage settlement!" exclaimed both the men of law in a breath. 

"A marriage settlement, by which, in the event of Mr. Harlowe's decease, his entire property passes to his wife, in trust for the children, ifany; and if not, absolutely to herself. " Ferret threw the deed on thetable, and then giving way to convulsive mirth, threw himself upon thesofa, and fairly shouted with glee. 

Mr. Quillet seized the document, and, with Richards, eagerly perused it. The proctor then rose, and bowing gravely to his astonished client, said, "The will, madam, is waste paper. You have been deceived. " He then leftthe apartment. 

The consternation of the lady and her attorney may be conceived. MadamCorelli, giving way to her fiery passions, vented her disappointment inpassionate reproaches of the deceased; the only effect of which was tolay bare still more clearly than before her own cupidity and folly, andto increase Edith's painful agitation. I led her down stairs to my wife, who, I omitted to mention, had accompanied us from town, and remained inthe library with the children during our conference. In a very shorttime afterwards Mr. Ferret had cleared the house of its intrusive guests, and we had leisure to offer our condolences and congratulations to ourgrateful and interesting client. It was long before Edith recovered herformer gaiety and health; and I doubt if she would ever have thoroughlyregained her old cheerfulness and elasticity of mind, had it not been forher labor of love in superintending and directing the education of herdaughter Helen, a charming girl, who fortunately inherited nothing fromher father but his wealth. The last time I remember to have danced was atHelen's wedding. She married a distinguished Irish gentleman, with whom, and her mother, I perceive by the newspapers, she appeared at QueenVictoria's court in Dublin, one, I am sure, of the brightest stars whichglittered in that galaxy of beauty and fashion. 

THE SECOND MARRIAGE. 

A busy day in the assize court at Chester, chequered, as usual, byalternate victory and defeat, had just terminated, and I was walkingbriskly forth, when an attorney of rather low _caste_ in hisprofession--being principally employed as an intermediary between needyfelons and the counsel practising in the Crown Court--accosted me, andpresented a brief; at the same time tendering the fee of two guineasmarked upon it. 

"I am engaged to-morrow, Mr. Barnes, " I exclaimed a little testily, "onthe civil side: besides, you know I very seldom take briefs in the CrownCourt, even if proffered in due time; and to-morrow will be the last dayof the assize in Chester! There are plenty of unemployed counsel who willbe glad of your brief. "

"It is a brief in an action of ejectment, " replied the attorney--"Woodley_versus_ Thorndyke; and is brought to recover possession of a freeholdestate now held and farmed by the defendant. "

"An action of ejectment to recover possession of a freehold estate!defended, too, I know, by a powerful bar; for I was offered a brief, butdeclined it. Mr. P ---- leads; and you bring me this for the plaintiff, and at the last moment too! You must be crazed. "

"I told the plaintiff and her grandfather, " rejoined Mr. Barnes, "that itwas too late to bespeak counsel's attention to the case; and that thefee, all they have, with much difficulty, been able to raise, wasridiculously small; but they insisted on my applying to you--Oh, herethey are!"

We had by this time reached the street, and the attorney pointed towardstwo figures standing in attitudes of anxious suspense near the gateway. It was dusk, but there was quite sufficient light to distinguish the paleand interesting features of a young female, dressed in faded and scantymourning, and accompanied by a respectable-looking old man with whitehair, and a countenance deeply furrowed by age and grief. 

"I told you, Miss Woodley, " said the attorney, "that this gentleman woulddecline the brief, especially with such a fee"--

"It is not the fee, man!" I observed, for I was somewhat moved by theappealing dejection exhibited by the white-haired man and his timidgrand-daughter; "but what chance can I have of establishing this person'sright--if right she have--to the estate she claims, thus suddenly calledupon to act without previous consultation; and utterly ignorant, exceptas far as this I perceive hastily-scrawled brief will instruct me, bothof the nature of the plaintiff's claim and of the defence intended to beset up against it?"

"If you would undertake it, sir, " said the young woman with a tremulous, hesitating voice and glistening eyes, "for _his_ sake"--and she glancedat her aged companion--"who will else be helpless, homeless. "

"The blessing of those who are ready to perish will be yours, sir, " saidthe grandfather with meek solemnity, "if you will lend your aid in thiswork of justice and mercy. We have no hope of withstanding the masterfulviolence and wrong of wicked and powerful men except by the aid of thelaw, which we have been taught will ever prove a strong tower of defenceto those who walk in the paths of peace and right. "

The earnestness of the old man's language and manner, and the pleadinggentleness of the young woman, forcibly impressed me; and, albeit, it wasa somewhat unprofessional mode of business, I determined to hear theirstory from their own lips, rather than take it from the scrawled brief, or through the verbal medium of their attorney. 

"You have been truly taught, " I answered; "and if really entitled to theproperty you claim, I know of no masterful men that in this land ofEngland can hinder you from obtaining possession of it. Come to my hotelin about an hour and a-half from hence: I shall then have leisure to hearwhat you have to say. This fee, " I added, taking the two guineas from thehand of the attorney, who still held the money ready for my acceptance, "you must permit me to return. It is too much for you to pay for losingyour cause; and if I gain it--but mind I do not promise to take it intocourt unless I am thoroughly satisfied you have right and equity on yourside--I shall expect a much heavier one. Mr. Barnes, I will see you, ifyou please, early in the morning. " I then bowed, and hastened on. 

Dinner was not ready when I arrived at the hotel; and during the shorttime I had to wait, I more than half repented of having had anything todo with this unfortunate suit. However, the pleadings of charity, thesuggestions of human kindness, reasserted their influence; and by thetime my new clients arrived, which they did very punctually at the hour Ihad indicated, I had quite regained the equanimity I had momentarilylost, and, thanks to mine host's excellent viands and generous wine, was, for a lawyer, in a very amiable and benevolent humor indeed. 

Our conference was long, anxious, and unsatisfactory. I was obliged tosend for Barnes before it concluded, in order to thoroughly ascertain theprecise nature of the case intended to be set up for the defendant, andthe evidence likely to be adduced in support of it. No ray of consolationor of hope came from that quarter. Still, the narrative I had justlistened to, bearing as it did the impress of truth and sincerity inevery sentence, strongly disposed me to believe that foul play has beenpractised by the other side; and I determined, at all hazards, to go intocourt, though with but faint hope indeed of a _present_ successful issue. 

"It appears more than probable, " I remarked on dismissing my clients, "that this will is a fabrication; but before such a question had been putin issue before a jury, some producible evidence of its being so shouldhave been sought for and obtained. As it is, I can only watch thedefendant's proof of the genuineness of the instrument upon which he hasobtained probate: one or more of the attesting witnesses _may_, if fraudhas been practised, break down under a searching cross-examination, orincidentally perhaps disclose matter for further investigation. "

"One of the attesting witnesses is, as I have already told you, dead, "observed Barnes; "and another, Elizabeth Wareing, has, I hear, to-dayleft the country. An affidavit to that effect will no doubt be madeto-morrow, in order to enable them to give secondary evidence of herattestation, though, swear as they may, I have not the slightest doubtI could find her if time were allowed, and her presence would at allavail us. "

"Indeed! This is very important. Would you, Mr. Barnes, have anyobjection, " I added, after a few moments' reflection, "to make oath, should the turn of affairs to-morrow render your doing so desirable, ofyour belief that you could, reasonable time being allowed, procure theattendance of this woman--this Elizabeth Wareing?"

"Not the slightest: though how that would help us to invalidate the willThorndyke claims under I do not understand. "

"Perhaps not. At all events do not fail to be early in court. The causeis the first in to-morrow's list, remember. "

The story confided to me was a very sad, and, unfortunately in many ofits features, a very common one. Ellen, the only child of the oldgentleman, Thomas Ward, had early in life married Mr. James Woodley, awealthy yeoman, prosperously settled upon his paternal acres, which hecultivated with great diligence and success. The issue of thismarriage--a very happy one, I was informed--was Mary Woodley, theplaintiff in the present action. Mr. Woodley, who had now been deadsomething more than two years, bequeathed the whole of his property, realand personal, to his wife, in full confidence, as he expressed himselfbut a few hours before he expired, that she would amply provide for hisand her child. The value of the property inherited by Mrs. Woodley underthis will amounted, according to a valuation made a few weeks after thetestator's decease, to between eight and nine thousand pounds. 

Respected as a widow, comfortable in circumstances, and with a daughterto engage her affections, Mrs. Woodley might have passed the remainder ofher existence in happiness. But how frequently do women peril and loseall by a second marriage! Such was the case with Mrs. Woodley: to theastonishment of everybody, she threw herself away on a man almost unknownin the district--a person of no fortune, of mean habits, and altogetherunworthy of accepting as a husband. Silas Thorndyke, to whom she thuscommitted her happiness, had for a short time acted as bailiff on thefarm; and no sooner did he feel himself master, than his subserviencywas changed to selfish indifference, and that gradually assumed a coarsercharacter. He discovered that the property, by the will of Mr. Woodley, was no secured against every chance or casualty to the use and enjoymentof his wife, that it not only did not pass by marriage to the newbridegroom, but she was unable to alienate or divest herself of anyportion of it during life. She could, however, dispose of it by will; butin the event of her dying intestate, the whole descended to her daughter, Mary Woodley. 

Incredibly savage was Thorndyke when he made that discovery; and bitterand incessant were the indignities to which he subjected his unfortunatewife, for the avowed purpose of forcing her to make a will entirely inhis favor, and of course disinheriting her daughter. These persecutionsfailed of their object. An unexpected, quiet, passive, but unconquerableresistance, was opposed by the, in all other things, cowed and submissivewoman, to this demand of her domineering husband. Her failing health--forgently nurtured and tenderly cherished as she had ever been, thecallous brutality of her husband soon told upon the unhappycreature--warned her that Mary would soon be an orphan, and that upon herfirmness it depended whether the child of him to whose memory she hadbeen, so fatally for herself, unfaithful, should be cast homeless andpenniless upon the world, or inherit the wealth to which, by everyprinciple of right and equity, she was entitled. Come what may, thistrust at least should not, she mentally resolved, be betrayed or palteredwith. Every imaginable expedient to vanquish her resolution was resortedto. Thorndyke picked a quarrel with Ward her father, who had lived atDale Farm since the morrow of her marriage with Woodley, and the oldgentleman was compelled to leave, and take up his abode with a distantand somewhat needy relative. Next Edward Wilford, the only son of aneighboring and prosperous farmer, who had been betrothed to Mary Woodleyseveral months before her father's death, was brutally insulted, andforbidden the house. All, however, failed to shake the mother'sresolution; and at length, finding all his efforts fruitless, Thorndykeappeared to yield the point, and upon this subject at least ceased toharass his unfortunate victim. 

Frequent private conferences were now held between Thorndyke, his twodaughters, and Elizabeth Wareing--a woman approaching middle-age, whom, under the specious pretence that Mrs. Thorndyke's increasing ailmentsrendered the services of an experienced matron indispensable, he hadlately installed at the farm. It was quite evident to both the mother anddaughter that a much greater degree of intimacy subsisted between themaster and housekeeper than their relative positions warranted; and fromsome expressions heedlessly dropped by the woman, they suspected them tohave been once on terms of confidential intimacy. Thorndyke, I shouldhave mentioned, was not a native of these parts: he had answered Mr. Woodley's advertisement for a bailiff, and his testimonials appearingsatisfactory, he had been somewhat precipitately engaged. A young man, calling himself Edward Wareing, the son of Elizabeth Wareing, and said tobe engaged in an attorney's office in Liverpool, was also a notunfrequent visitor at Dale Farm; and once he had the insolent presumptionto address a note to Mary Woodley, formally tendering his hand andfortune! This, however, did not suit Mr. Thorndyke's views, and Mr. Edward Wareing was very effectually rebuked and silenced by his proposedfather-in-law. 

Mrs. Thorndyke's health rapidly declined. The woman Wareing, touchedpossibly by sympathy or remorse, exhibited considerable tenderness andcompassion towards the invalid; made her nourishing drinks, andadministered the medicine prescribed by the village practitioner--who, after much delay and _pooh, poohing_ by Thorndyke, had been calledin--with her own hands. About three weeks previous to Mrs. Thorndyke'sdeath, a sort of reconciliation was patched up through herinstrumentality between the husband and wife; and an unwonted expressionof kindness and compassion, real or simulated, sat upon Thorndyke'sfeatures every time he approached the dying woman. 

The sands of life ebbed swiftly with Mrs. Thorndyke. Infolded in thegentle but deadly embrace with which consumption seizes its victims, shewasted rapidly away; and, most perplexing symptoms of all, violentretchings and nausea, especially after taking her medicine--which, according to Davis, the village surgeon, was invariable of a sedativecharacter--aggravated and confirmed the fatal disease which was hurryingher to the tomb. 

Not once during this last illness could Mary Woodley, by chance orstratagem, obtain a moment's private interview with her mother, until afew minutes before her decease. Until then, under one pretence oranother, either Elizabeth Wareing, one of Thorndyke's daughters, orThorndyke himself, was always present in the sick-chamber. It wasevening: darkness had for some time fallen: no light had yet been takeninto the dying woman's apartment; and the pale starlight which faintlyillumined the room served, as Mary Woodley softly approached on tiptoe tothe bedside of her, as she supposed, sleeping parent, but to deepen bydefining the shadows thrown by the full, heavy hangings, and the oldmassive furniture. Gently, and with a beating heart, Mary Woodley drewback the bed-curtain nearest the window. The feeble, uncertain lightflickered upon the countenance, distinct in its mortal paleness, of herparent: the eyes recognized her, and a glance of infinite tendernessgleamed for an instant in the rapidly-darkening orbs: the right armessayed to lift itself, as for one fast, last embrace. Vainly! Love, loveonly, was strong, stronger than death, in the expiring mother's heart, and the arm fell feebly back on the bedclothes. Mary Woodley bent down ineager grief, for she felt instinctively that the bitter hour at last wascome: their lips met, and the last accents of the mother murmured, "Beloved Mary, I--I have been true to you--no will--no"--A slight tremorshook her frame: the spirit that looked in love from the windows of theeyes departed on its heavenward journey, and the unconscious shell onlyof what had once been her mother remained in the sobbing daughter's arms. 

I will not deny that this narrative, which I feel I have but coldly andfeebly rendered from its earnest, tearful tenderness, as related by MaryWoodley, affected me considerably--case-hardened, as, to use an oldbar-pun, we barristers are supposed to be; nor will the reader besurprised to hear that suspicions, graver even than those which pointedto forgery, were evoked by the sad history. Much musing upon the strangecircumstances thus disclosed, and profoundly cogitative on the best modeof action to be pursued, the "small hours, " the first of them at least, surprised me in my arm-chair. I started up, and hastened to bed, wellknowing from experience that a sleepless vigil is a wretched preparativefor a morrow of active exertion, whether of mind or body. 

I was betimes in court the next morning, and Mr. Barnes, proud as apeacock of figuring as an attorney in an important civil suit, was soonat my side. The case had excited more interest than I had supposed, andthe court was very early filled, Mary Woodley and her grandfather soonarrived; and a murmur of commiseration ran through the auditory as theytook their seats by the side of Barnes. There was a strong bar arrayedagainst us; and Mr. Silas Thorndyke, I noticed, was extremely busy andimportant with whisperings and suggestions to his solicitor andcounsel--received, of course, as such meaningless familiarities usuallyare, with barely civil indifference. 

Twelve common jurors were called and sworn well and truly to try theissue, and I arose amidst breathless silence to address them. I at oncefrankly stated the circumstances under which the brief had come into myhands, and observed, that if, for lack of advised preparation, theplaintiff's case failed on that day, another trial, under favor of thecourt above, would, I doubt not, at no distant period of time reverse thepossibly at present unfavorable decision. "My learned friends on theother side, " I continued, "smile at this qualified admission of mine: letthem do so. If they apparently establish to-day the validity of a willwhich strips an only child of the inheritance bequeathed by her father, they will, I tell them emphatically, have obtained but a temporarytriumph for a person who--if I, if you, gentlemen of the jury, are tobelieve the case intended to be set up as a bar to the plantiff'sclaim--has succeeded by the grossest brutality, the most atrociousdevices, in bending the mind of the deceased Mrs. Thorndyke to hisselfish purposes. My learned friend need not interrupt me; I shall pursuethese observations for the present no further--merely adding that I, thathis lordship, that you, gentlemen of the jury, will require of him thestrictest proof--proof clear as light--that the instrument upon which herelies to defeat the equitable, the righteous claim of the young andamiable person by my side, is genuine, and not, as I verily believe "--Ilooked, as I spoke, full in the face of Thorndyke--"FORGED. "

"My lord, " exclaimed the opposing counsel, "this is really insufferable!"

His lordship, however, did not interpose; and I went on to relate, in themost telling manner of which I was capable, the history of the deceasedMrs. Thorndyke's first and second marriages; the harmony and happiness ofthe first--the wretchedness and cruelty which characterized the second. Inarrated also the dying words of Mrs. Thorndyke to her daughter, thoughrepeatedly interrupted by the defendant's counsel, who manifested greatindignation that a statement unsusceptible of legal proof should beaddressed to the court and jury. My address concluded, I put in JamesWoodley's will; and, as the opposing counsel did not dispute itsvalidity, nor require proof of Mary Woodley's identity, I intimated thatthe plaintiff's case was closed. 

The speech for the defendant was calm and guarded. It threw, or ratherattempted to throw, discredit on the death-bed "fiction, " got up, Mr. P ---- said, simply with a view to effect; and he concluded by averringthat he should be able to establish the genuineness of the will of EllenThorndyke, now produced, by irresistible evidence. That done, howevermuch the jury might wish the property had been otherwise disposed of, they would of course return a verdict in accordance with their oaths andthe law of the land. 

The first witness called was Thomas Headley, a smith, residing near DaleFarm. He swore positively that the late Mrs. Thorndyke, whom he knewwell, had cheerfully signed the will now produced, after it had beendeliberately read over to her by her husband about a fortnight before herdeath. Silas Thorndyke, John Cummins, Elizabeth Wareing, and witness, were the only persons present. Mrs. Thorndyke expressed confidence thather husband would provide for Mary Woodley. 

"And so I will, " said sleek Silas, rising up and looking round upon theauditory. "If she will return, I will be a father to her. "

No look, no sound of sympathy or approval, greeted this generousdeclaration, and he sat down again not a little disconcerted. 

I asked this burly, half-drunken witness but one question--"When is yourmarriage with Rebecca Thorndyke, the defendant's eldest daughter, to becelebrated?"

"I don't know, Mr. Lawyer; perhaps never. "

"That will do; you can go down. "

Mr. P ---- now rose to state that his client was unable to produceElizabeth Wareing, another of the attesting witnesses to the will, incourt. No suspicion that any opposition to the solemn testament made bythe deceased Mrs. Thorndyke would be attempted, had been entertained;and the woman, unaware that her testimony would be required, had leftthat part of the country. Every effort had been made by the defendant todiscover her abode without effect. It was believed she had gone toAmerica, where she had relatives. The defendant had filed an affidavitsetting forth these facts, and it was now prayed that secondary evidenceto establish the genuineness of Elizabeth Wareing's attesting signatureshould be admitted. 

I of course vehemently opposed this demand, and broadly hinted that thewitness was purposely kept out of the way. 

"Will my learned friend, " said Mr. P ---- with one of his sliest sneers, "inform us what motive the defendant could possibly have to keep back awitness so necessary to him?"

"Elizabeth Wareing, " I curtly replied, "may not, upon reflection, bedeemed a safe witness to subject to the ordeal of a cross-examination. But to settle the matter, my lord, " I exclaimed, "I have here anaffidavit of the plaintiff's attorney, in which he states that he has nodoubt of being able to find this important witness if time be allowed himfor the purpose; the defendant of course undertaking to call her whenproduced. "

A tremendous clamor of counsel hereupon ensued, and fierce and angry grewthe war of words. The hubbub was at last terminated by the judgerecommending that, under the circumstances, "a juror should bewithdrawn. " This suggestion, after some demur, was agreed to. One of thejurors was whispered to come out of the box; then the clerk of the courtexclaimed, "My lord, there are only eleven men on the jury;" and by theaid of this venerable, if clumsy expedient, the cause of Woodley _versus_Thorndyke was _de facto_ adjourned to a future day. 

I had not long returned to the hotel, when I was waited upon by Mr. Wilford, senior, the father of the young man who had been forbidden tovisit Dale Farm by Thorndyke. His son, he informed me, was ill fromchagrin and anxiety--confined to his bed indeed; and Mary Woodley hadrefused, it seemed, to accept pecuniary aid from either the father or theson. Would I endeavor to terminate the estrangement which had for sometime unhappily existed, and persuade her to accept his, Wilford senior's, freely-offered purse and services? I instantly accepted both the missionand the large sum which the excellent man tendered. A part of the money Igave Barnes to stimulate his exertions, and the rest I placed in the handof Mary Woodley's grandpapa, with a friendly admonition to him not toallow his grandchild to make a fool of herself; an exhortation whichproduced its effect in due season. 

Summer passed away, autumn had come and gone, and the winter assizeswere once more upon us. Regular proceedings had been taken, and theaction in ejectment of Woodley versus Thorndyke was once more on thecause list of the Chester circuit court, marked this time as a specialjury case. Indefatigable as Mr. Barnes had been in his search forElizabeth Wareing, not the slightest trace of her could he discover; andI went into court, therefore, with but slight expectation of invalidatingthe, as I fully believed, fictitious will. We had, however, obtained agood deal of information relative to the former history not only of theabsent Mrs. Wareing, but of Thorndyke himself; and it was quite withinthe range of probabilities that something might come out, enabling me touse that knowledge to good purpose. The plaintiff and old Mr. Ward wereseated in court beside Mr. Barnes, as on the former abortive trial; butMary Woodley had, fortunately for herself, lost much of the interestwhich attaches to female comeliness and grace when associated in the mindof the spectator with undeserved calamity and sorrow. The black dresswhich she still wore--the orthodox twelve months of mourning for a parenthad not yet quite elapsed--was now fresh, and of fine quality, and thepale lilies of her face were interspersed with delicate roses; whilst byher side sat Mr. John Wilford, as happy-looking as if no such things asperjurers, forgers, or adverse verdicts existed to disturb the peace ofthe glad world. Altogether, we were decidedly less interesting than onthe former occasion. Edward Wareing, I must not omit to add, was, greatlyto our surprise, present. He sat, in great apparent amity, by the side ofThorndyke. 

It was late in the afternoon, and twilight was gradually stealing overthe dingy court, when the case was called. The special jury answered totheir names, were duly sworn, and then nearly the same preliminaryspeeches and admissions were made and put in as on the previous occasion. Thomas Headley, the first witness called in support of the pretendedwill, underwent a rigorous cross-examination; but I was unable to extractanything of importance from him. 

"And now, " said the defendant's leading counsel, "let me ask mylearned friend if he has succeeded in obtaining the attendance ofElizabeth Wareing?"

I was of course obliged to confess that we had been unable to find her;and the judge remarked that in that ease he could receive secondaryevidence in proof of her attestation of the will. 

A whispered but manifestly eager conference here took place between thedefendant and his counsel, occasionally joined in by Edward Wareing. There appeared to be indecision or hesitation in their deliberations; butat last Mr. P ---- rose, and with some ostentation of manner addressedthe court. 

"In the discharge of my duty to the defendant in this action, my lord, upon whose fair fame much undeserved obloquy has been cast by thespeeches of the plaintiff's counsel--speeches insupported by a shadow ofevidence--I have to state that, anxious above all things to standperfectly justified before his neighbors and society, he has, at greattrouble and expense, obtained the presence here to-day of the witnessElizabeth Wareing. She had gone to reside in France with a respectableEnglish family in the situation of housekeeper. We shall now place her inthe witness-box, and having done so, I trust we shall hear no more of theslanderous imputations so freely lavished upon my client. Call ElizabethWareing into court. "

A movement of surprise and curiosity agitated the entire auditory at thisannouncement. Mr. Silas Thorndyke's naturally cadaverous countenanceassumed an ashy hue, spite of his efforts to appear easy and jubilant;and for the first time since the commencement of the proceedings Ientertained the hope of a successful issue. 

Mrs. Wareing appeared in answer to the call, and was duly sworn "to tellthe truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. " She was agood-looking woman, of perhaps forty years of age, and bore a strikingresemblance to her son. She rapidly, smoothly, and unhesitatinglyconfirmed the evidence of Headley to a tittle. She trembled, I observed, excessively; and on the examining counsel intimating that he had no morequestions to ask, turned hastily to leave the box. 

"Stay--stay, my good woman, " I exclaimed; "you and I must have some talktogether before we part. "

She started, and looked at me with frightened earnestness; and then hernervous glances stole towards Mr. Silas Thorndyke. There was no comfortthere: in his countenance she only saw the reflex of the agitation andanxiety which marked her own. Sleek Silas, I could see, already repentedof the rash move he had made, and would have given a good deal to get hiswitness safely and quietly out of court. 

It was now nearly dark, and observing that it was necessary the courtand jury should see as well as hear the witness whilst underexamination, I requested that lights should be brought in. This wasdone. Two candles were placed in front of the witness-box, one on eachside of Mrs. Wareing; a few others were disposed about the bench andjury desks. The effect of this partial lighting of the gloomy old courtwas, that the witness stood out in strong and bright relief from thesurrounding shadows, rendering the minutest change or play of herfeatures distinctly visible. Mr. Silas Thorndyke was, from his position, thrown entirely into the shade, and any telegraphing between him andthe witness was thus rendered impossible. This preparation, as if forsome extraordinary and solemn purpose, together with the profoundsilence which reigned in the court, told fearfully, as I expected, uponthe nerves of Mrs. Elizabeth Wareing. She already seemed as if about toswoon with agitation and ill-defined alarm. 

"Pray, madam, " said I, "is your name Wareing or Tucker?"

She did not answer, and I repeated the question. "Tucker, " she at lastreplied in a tremulous whisper. 

"I thought so. And pray, Mrs. Tucker, were you ever 'in trouble' inLondon for robbing your lodgings?"

I thought she attempted to answer, but no sound passed her lips. One ofthe ushers of the court handed her a glass of water at my suggestion, andshe seemed to recover somewhat. I pressed my question; and at last shereplied in the same low, agitated voice, "Yes, I have been. "

"I know you have. Mr. Silas Thorndyke, I believe, was your bail on thatoccasion, and the matter was, I understand, compromised--arranged--at allevents the prosecution was not pressed. Is not that so?"

"Yes--no--yes. "

"Very well: either answer will do. You lived also, I believe, with Mr. Thorndyke, as his housekeeper of course, when he was in business as aconcocter and vender of infallible drugs and pills?"

"Yes. "

"He was held to be skilful in the preparation of drugs, was henot--well-versed in their properties?"

"Yes--I believe so--I do not know. Why am I asked such questions?"

"You will know presently. And now, woman, answer the question I am aboutto put to you, as you will be compelled to answer it to God at the lastgreat day--What was the nature of the drug which you or he mixed with themedicine prescribed for the late Mrs. Thorndyke?"

A spasmodic shriek, checked by a desperate effort, partially escaped her, and she stood fixedly gazing with starting eyes in my face. 

The profoundest silence reigned in the court as I iterated the question. 

"You must answer, woman, " said the judge sternly, "unless you know youranswer will criminate yourself. "

The witness looked wildly round the court, as if in search of counsel orsympathy; but encountering none but frowning and eager faces--Thorndykeshe could not discern in the darkness--she became giddy andpanic-stricken, and seemed to lose all presence of mind. 

"He--he--he, " she at last gasped--"he mixed it. I do not know--Buthow, " she added, pushing back her hair, and pressing her hands againsther hot temples, "can this be? What can it mean?"

A movement amongst the bystanders just at this moment attractedthe notice of the judge, and he immediately exclaimed, "Thedefendant must not leave the court!" An officer placed himselfbeside the wretched murderer as well as forger, and I resumed thecross-examination of the witness. 

"Now, Mrs. Tucker, please to look at this letter. " (It was that which hadbeen addressed to Mary Woodley by her son. ) "That, I believe, is yourson's handwriting?"

"Yes. "

"The body of this will has been written by the same hand. Now, woman, answer. Was it your son--this young man who, you perceive, if guilty, cannot escape from justice--was it he who forged the names of thedeceased Mrs. Thorndyke, and of John Cummins attached to it?"

"Not he--not he!" shrieked the wretched woman. "It wasThorndyke--Thorndyke himself. " And then with a sudden revulsion offeeling, as the consequences of what she had uttered flashed upon her, she exclaimed, "Oh, Silas, what have I said?--what have I done?"

"Hanged me, that's all, you accursed devil!" replied Thorndyke withgloomy ferocity. "But I deserve it for trusting in such an idiot: doltand fool that I was for doing so. "

The woman sank down in strong convulsions, and was, by direction of thejudge, carried out of the hall. 

The anxious silence which pervaded the court during this scene, in whichthe reader will have observed I played a bold, tentative, andhappily-successful game, was broken as the witness was borne off by aloud murmur of indignation, followed by congratulatory exclamations onthe fortunate termination of the suit. The defendant's counsel threw uptheir briefs, and a verdict was at once returned for the plaintiff. 

All the inculpated parties were speedily in custody; and the body of Mrs. Thorndyke having been disinterred, it was discovered that she had beendestroyed by bichloride of mercury, of which a considerable quantity wasdetected in the body. I was not present at the trial of Thorndyke and hisaccomplices--he for murder, and Headley for perjury--but I saw by thepublic prints that he was found guilty, and executed: Headley wastransported: the woman was, if I remember rightly, admitted evidence forthe crown. 

Mary Woodley was of course put into immediate possession of her paternalinheritance; and is now--at least she was about four months ago, when Idined with her and her husband at Dale Farm--a comely, prosperous matron;and as happy as a woman with a numerous progeny and an easy-temperedpartner can in this, according to romance writers, vale of grief andtears expect to be. The service I was fortunately enabled to render herforms one of the most pleasing recollections of my life. 

CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 

In the second year of my connection with the Northern Circuit, when even_junior_ briefs were much less numerous than acceptable, I was agreeablysurprised, as I sat musing on the evening of my arrival in the ancientcity of York upon the capricious mode in which those powerful personagesthe attorneys distributed their valuable favors, by the entrance of oneof the most eminent of the race practising in that part of the country, and the forthwith tender of a bulky brief in the Crown Court, on which, as my glance instinctively fell on the interesting figures, I perceivedthat the large fee, in criminal cases, of fifty guineas was marked. Thelocal newspapers, from which I had occasionally seen extracts, had beenfor some time busy with the case; and I knew it therefore to be, relatively to the condition in life of the principal person implicated, an important one. Rumor had assigned the conduct of the defence to aneminent leader on the circuit--since, one of our ablest judges; and onlooking more closely at the brief, I perceived that that gentleman's namehad been crossed out, and mine substituted. The fee also--a much lessagreeable alteration--had been, I saw, considerably reduced; inaccordance, doubtless, with the attorney's appreciation of the differenceof value between a silk and a stuff gown. 

"You are not, sir, I believe, retained for the prosecution in the crownagainst Everett?" said Mr. Sharpe in his brief, business manner. 

"I am not, Mr. Sharpe. "

"In that case, I beg to tender you the leading-brief for the defence. Itwas intended, as you perceive, to place it in the hands of our great_nisi prius_ leader, but he will be so completely occupied in that court, that he has been compelled to decline it. He mentioned you; and from whatI have myself seen of you in several cases, I have no doubt myunfortunate client will have ample justice done him. Mr. Kingston will bewith you. "

I thanked Mr. Sharpe for his compliment, and accepted his brief. As thecommission would be opened on the following morning, I at once appliedmyself to a perusal of the bulky paper, aided as I read by the verbalexplanations and commentaries of Mr. Sharpe. Our conference lastedseveral hours; and it was arranged that another should be held early thenext morning at Mr. Sharpe's office, at which Mr. Kingston would assist. 

Dark, intricate, compassed with fearful mystery, was the case so suddenlysubmitted to my guidance; and the few faint gleams of light derived fromthe attorney's research, prescience, and sagacity, served but to renderdimly visible a still profounder and blacker abyss of crime than thatdisclosed by the evidence for the crown. Young as I then was in theprofession, no marvel that I felt oppressed by the weight of theresponsibility cast upon me; or that, when wearied with thinking, anddizzy with profitless conjecture, I threw myself into bed, perplexingimages and shapes of guilt and terror pursued me through my troubledsleep! Happily the next day was not that of trial; for I awoke with athrobbing pulse and burning brain, and should have been but poorlyprepared for a struggle involving the issues of life and death. Extremelysensitive, as, under the circumstances, I must necessarily have been, tothe arduous nature of the grave duties so unexpectedly devolved upon me;the following _résumé_ of the chief incidents of the case, as confided tome by Mr. Sharpe, will, I think, fully account to the reader for thenervous irritability under which I for the moment, labored:--

Mr. Frederick Everett, the prisoner about to be arraigned before a juryof his countrymen for the frightful crime of murder, had, with hisfather, Captain Anthony Everett, resided for several years past atWoodlands Manor-House, the seat of Mrs. Eleanor Fitzhugh, a rich, elderlymaiden lady, aunt to the first, and sister by marriage to the last-namedgentleman. A generous, pious, high-minded person Mrs. Fitzhugh wasrepresented to have been, but extremely sensitive withal on the score of"family. " The Fitzhughs of Yorkshire, she was wont to boast, "came inwith the Conqueror;" and any branch of the glorious tree then firmlyplanted in the soil of England that degraded itself by an alliance withwealth, beauty, or worth, dwelling without the pale of her narrowprejudices, was inexorably cut off from her affections, and, as far asshe was able, from her memory. One--the principal of these offenders--hadbeen Mary Fitzhugh, her young, fair, gentle, and only sister. In utterdisdain and slight of the dignity of ancestry, she had chosen to uniteherself to a gentleman of the name of Mordaunt, who, though possessed ofgreat talents, an unspotted name, and, for his age, high rank in thecivil service of the East India Company, had--inexpiable misfortune--atrader for his grandfather! This crime against her "house" Mrs. EleanorFitzhugh resolved never to forgive; and she steadily returned, unopened, the frequent letters addressed to her by her sister, who pined in herdistant Indian home for a renewal of the old sisterly love which hadwatched over and gladdened her life from infancy to womanhood. A longsilence--a silence of many years--succeeded; broken at last by the sadannouncement that the unforgiven one had long since found an early gravein a foreign land. The letter which brought the intelligence bore theLondon post-mark, and was written by Captain Everett; to whom, it wasstated, Mrs. Eleanor Fitzhugh's sister, early widowed, had been united insecond nuptials, and by whom she had borne a son, Frederick Everett, nownearly twenty years of age. The long-pent-up affection of Mrs. Fitzhughfor her once idolized sister burst forth at this announcement of herdeath with uncontrollable violence; and, as some atonement for her pastsinful obduracy, she immediately invited the husband and son of herlong-lost Mary to Woodlands Manor-House, to be henceforth, she said, shehoped their home. Soon after their arrival, Mrs. Fitzhugh made awill--the family property was entirely at her disposal--revoking a formerone, which bequeathed the whole of the real and personal property to adistant relative whom she had never seen, and by which all was devised toher nephew, who was immediately proclaimed sole heir to the Fitzhughestates, yielding a yearly rental of at least £12, 000. Nay, so thoroughlywas she softened towards the memory of her deceased sister, that thewill--of which, as I have stated, no secret was made--provided, in theevent of Frederick dying childless, that the property should pass to hisfather, Mary Fitzhugh's second husband. 

No two persons could be more unlike than were the father andson--mentally, morally, physically. Frederick Everett was a fair-haired, blue-eyed young man, of amiable, caressing manners, gentle disposition, and ardent, poetic temperament. His father, on the contrary, was adark-featured, cold, haughty, repulsive man, ever apparently wrapped upin selfish and moody reveries. Between him and his son there appeared toexist but little of cordial intercourse, although the highly-sensitiveand religious tone of mind of Frederick Everett caused him to treat hisparent with unvarying deference and respect. 

The poetic temperament of Frederick Everett brought him at last, aspoetic temperaments are apt to do, into trouble. Youth, beauty, innocence, and grace, united in the person of Lucy Carrington--the onlychild of Mr. Stephen Carrington, a respectable retired merchant ofmoderate means, residing within a few miles of WoodlandsManor-House--crossed his path; and spite of his shield of manyquarterings, he was vanquished in an instant, and almost withoutresistance. The at least tacit consent and approval of Mr. Carrington andhis fair daughter secured, Mr. Everett, junior--hasty, headstrong loverthat he was--immediately disclosed his matrimonial projects to his fatherand aunt. Captain Everett received the announcement with a sarcasticsmile, coldly remarking, that if Mrs. Fitzhugh was satisfied, he had noobjection to offer. But, alas! no sooner did her nephew, with muchperiphrastic eloquence, in part his passion for the daughter of a _mere_merchant to his aunt, than a vehement torrent of indignant rebuke brokefrom her lips. She would die rather than consent to so degrading a_mésalliance_; and should he persist in yielding to such grossinfatuation, she would not only disinherit, but banish him her house, andcast him forth a beggar on the world. Language like this, one can easilyunderstand, provoked language from the indignant young man which in lessheated moments he would have disdained to utter; and the aunt and nephewparted in fierce anger, and after mutual denunciation of each other--heas a disobedient ingrate, she as an imperious, ungenerous tyrant. Thequarrel was with some difficulty patched up by Captain Everett; and withthe exception of the change which took place in the disappointed lover'sdemeanor--from light-hearted gaiety to gloom and sullenness--things, after a few days, went on pretty nearly as before. 

The sudden rupture of the hopes Mrs. Eleanor Fitzhugh had reposed in hernephew as the restorer of the glories of her ancient "house, " tarnishedby Mary Fitzhugh's marriage, affected dangerously, it soon appeared, thatlady's already failing health. A fortnight after the quarrel with hernephew, she became alarmingly ill. Unusual and baffling symptoms showedthemselves; and after suffering during eight days from alternate acutepain, and heavy, unconquerable drowsiness, she expired in her nephew'sarms. This sudden and fatal illness of his relative appeared to reawakenall Frederick Everett's tenderness and affection for her. He wasincessant in his close attendance in the sick-chamber, permitting no oneelse to administer to his aunt either aliment or medicine. On this latterpoint, indeed, he insisted, with strange fierceness, taking the medicinewith his own hand from the man who brought it; and after administeringthe prescribed quantity, carefully locking up the remainder in a cabinetin his bed-room. 

On the morning of the day that Mrs. Fitzhugh died, her ordinary medicalattendant, Mr. Smith, terrified and perplexed by the urgency of thesymptoms exhibited by his patient, called in the aid of alocally-eminent physician, Dr. Archer, or Archford--the name is not verydistinctly written in my memoranda of these occurrences; but we willcall him Archer--who at once changed the treatment till then pursued, and ordered powerful emetics to be administered, without, however, aswe have seen, producing any saving or sensible effect. The grief ofFrederick Everett, when all hope was over, was unbounded. He threwhimself, in a paroxysm of remorse or frenzy, upon the bed, accusinghimself of having murdered her, with other strange and incoherentexpressions, upon which an intimation soon afterwards made by Dr. Archerthrew startling light. That gentleman, conjointly with Mr. Smith, requested an immediate interview with Captain Everett, and Mr. Hardyman, the deceased lady's land-steward and solicitor, who happened to be inthe house at the time. The request was of course complied with, and Dr. Archer at once bluntly stated that, in his opinion, _poison_ had beenadministered to the deceased lady, though of what precise kind he wassomewhat at a loss to conjecture--opium essentially, he thought, thoughcertainly not in any of its ordinary preparations--one of the alkaloidsprobably which chemical science had recently discovered. Be this as itmay, a _post-mortem_ examination of the body would clear up all doubts, and should take place as speedily as possible. Captain Everett at onceacceded to Dr. Archer's proposal, at the same time observing that he wasquite sure the result would entirely disprove that gentleman'sassumption. Mr. Hardyman also fully concurred in the necessity of arigid investigation; and the _post-mortem_ examination should, it wasarranged, take place early on the following morning. 

"I have another and very painful duty to perform, " continued Dr. Archer, addressing Captain Everett. "I find that your son, Mr. Frederick Everett, alone administered medicine and aliment to Mrs. Fitzhugh during herillness. Strange, possibly wholly frenzied expressions, but which soundedvastly like cries of remorse, irrepressible by a person unused to crime, escaped him in my hearing just after the close of the final scene;and--But perhaps, Captain Everett, you had better retire: this isscarcely a subject"--

"Go on, sir, " said the captain, over whose countenance a strangeexpression--to use Dr. Archer's own words--had _flashed_; "go on: I ambetter now. "

"We all know, " resumed Dr. Archer, "how greatly Mr. Frederick Everettgains in wealth by his aunt's death; and that her decease, moreover, willenable him to conclude the marriage to which she was so determinedlyopposed. I think, therefore, that, under all the circumstances, we shallbe fully justified in placing the young gentleman under such--I will notsay custody, but _surveillance_ as will prevent him either from leavingthe house, should he imagine himself suspected, or of destroying anyevidence which may possibly exist of his guilt, if indeed he be guilty. "

"I entirely agree with you, Dr. Archer, " exclaimed Mr. Hardyman, who hadlistened with much excitement to the doctor's narrative; "and will, uponmy own responsibility, take the necessary steps for effecting the objectyou have in view. "

"Gentlemen, " said Captain Everett, rising from his chair, "you will ofcourse do your duty; but I can take no part, nor offer any counsel, insuch a case; I must leave you to your own devices. " He then left theapartment. 

He had been gone but a few minutes, when Frederick Everett, still in astate of terrible excitement, entered the room, strode fiercely up to Dr. Archer, and demanded how he dared propose, as the butler had justinformed him he had done, a dissection of his aunt's body. 

"I will not permit it, " continued the agitated young man: "I am masterhere, and I say it shall not be done. What new horror would youevoke? Is it not enough that one of the kindest, best of God'screatures, has perished, but _another_ sacrifice must--What do I say?Enough that I will not permit it. I have seen similar cases-verysimilar cases in--in India!"

The gentleman so strangely addressed had exchanged significant glancesduring the delivery of this incoherent speech; and, quite confirmed intheir previous impression, Mr. Hardyman, as their spokesman, interruptedthe speaker, to inform him that _he_ was the suspected assassin of hisaunt! The accusing sentences had hardly passed the solicitor's lips, whenthe furious young man sprang towards him with the bound of a tiger, andat one blow prostrated him on the floor. He was immediately seized by thetwo medical gentlemen, and help having been summoned, he was with muchdifficulty secured, and placed in strict confinement, to await the resultof the next day's inquiry. 

The examination of the body disclosed the terrible fact, that thedeceased lady had perished by _acetate of morphine_; thus verifying thesagacious guess of Dr. Archer. A minute search was immediately madethroughout Mr. Frederick Everett's apartments, and behind one of thedrawers of a cabinet in his bedroom--at the back of the shelf orpartition upon which the drawer rested, and of course completely hiddenby the drawer itself when in its place--was found a flat tin flask, fluted on the outside, and closed with a screw stopper: it was looselyenveloped in a sheet of brown paper, directed "--Everett, Esq. , WoodlandsManor-House, Yorkshire;" and upon close examination, a small quantity ofwhite powder, which proved to be _acetate of morphine_, was found in theflask. Suspicion of young Everett's guilt now became conviction; and, asif to confirm beyond all doubt the soundness of the chain ofcircumstantial evidence in which he was immeshed, the butler, JohnDarby, an aged and trusty servant of the late Mrs. Fitzhugh, made on thenext day the following deposition before the magistrates:--

"He had taken in, two days before his late mistress was seized with herfatal illness, a small brown paper parcel which had been brought by coachfrom London, and for which 2s. 10d carriage was charged and paid. Thepaper found in Mr. Frederick Everett's cabinet was, he could positivelyswear, from the date and figures marked on it, and the handwriting, thepaper wrapper of that parcel. He had given it to young Mr. Everett, whohappened to be in the library at the time. About five minutes afterwards, he had occasion to return to the library, to inform him that somefishing-tackle he had ordered was sent home. The door was ajar; and Mr. Frederick did not at first perceive his entrance, as he was standing withhis back to the door. The paper parcel he, the butler, had just beforedelivered was lying open on the table, and Mr. Everett held in one hand aflat tin flask--the witness had no doubt the same found in thecabinet--and in the other a note, which he was reading. He, the witness, coughed, to attract Mr. Everett's attention, who hurriedly turned round, clapped down the flask and the note, shuffling them under the paperwrapper, as if to conceal them, and then, in a very confused manner, andhis face as red as flame, asked witness what he wanted there? Witnessthought this behavior very strange at the time; but the incident soonpassed from his mind, and he had thought no more of it till the findingof the paper and flask as described by the other witnesses. "

Mr. Frederick Everett, who had manifested the strangest impassability, acalmness as of despair, throughout the inquiry, which perplexed anddisheartened Mr. Sharpe, whose services had been retained by CaptainEverett, allowed even this mischievous evidence to pass without a word ofcomment or explanation; and he was, as a matter of course, fullycommitted for the wilful murder of his relative. The chain ofcircumstantial evidence, motive included, was, it was felt, complete--nota link was wanting. 

These were the chief incidents disclosed to me by Mr. Sharpe during ourlong and painful consultation. Of the precise nature of the terriblesuspicions which haunted and disturbed me, I shall only in this place saythat neither Mr. Sharpe, nor, consequently, myself, would in allprobability have guessed or glanced at them, but for the persistentassertions of Miss Carrington, that her lover was madly sacrificinghimself from some chimerical motive of honor or duty. 

"You do not know, Mr. Sharpe, as I do, " she would frequently exclaim withtearful vehemence, "the generous, child-like simplicity, the chivalricenthusiasm, of his character, his utter abnegation of self, and readinesson all occasions to sacrifice his own ease, his own wishes, to forwardthe happiness of others; and, above all, his fantastic notions ofhonor--duty, if you will--which would, I feel assured, prompt him toincur any peril, death itself, to shield from danger any one who hadclaims upon him either of blood or of affection. You know to whom mysuspicions point; and how dreadful to think that one so young, so brave, so pious, and so true, should be sacrificed for such a monster as Ibelieve that man to be!"

To all these passionate expostulations the attorney could only replythat vague suspicions were not judicial proofs; and that if Mr. Frederick Everett would persist in his obstinate reserve, a fatal resultwas inevitable. But Mr. Sharpe readily consented to gratify the wishesof Mr. Carrington and his daughter on one point: he returned the money, not a very large sum, which Captain Everett had sent him, and agreedthat Mr. Carrington should supply the funds necessary for the defence ofthe prisoner. 

Our consultation the next day at Mr. Sharpe's was a sad and hopeless one. Nowhere did a gleam of cheerful light break in. The case wasoverwhelmingly complete against the prisoner. The vague suspicions weentertained pointed to a crime so monstrous, so incredible, that we feltit could not be so much as hinted at upon such, legally considered, slight grounds. The prisoner was said to be an eloquent speaker, and Iundertook to draw up the outline of a defence, impugning, with all thedialectic skill I was master of, the conclusiveness of the evidence forthe crown. To this, and a host of testimony to character which weproposed to call, rested our faint hopes of "a good deliverance!"

Business was over, and we were taking a glass of wine with Mr. Sharpe, when his chief clerk entered to say that Sergeant Edwards, an oldsoldier--who had spoken to them some time before relative to a largeclaim which he asserted he had against Captain Everett, arising out of alegacy bequeathed to him in India, and the best mode of assuring itspayment by an annuity, as proposed by the captain--had now called to saythat the terms were at last finally arranged, and that he wished to knowwhen Mr. Sharpe would be at leisure to draw up the bond. "He need notfear for his money!" exclaimed Sharpe tartly, "the captain will, I fear, be rich enough before another week has passed over our heads. Tell him tocall to-morrow evening; I will see him after I return from court. " A fewminutes afterwards, I and Mr. Kingston took our leave. 

The Crown Court was thronged to suffocation on the following morning, and the excitement of the auditory appeared to be of the intensest kind. Miss Carrington, closely veiled, sat beside her father on one of theside-benches. A true bill against the prisoner had been found on theprevious afternoon; and the trial, it had been arranged, to suit theconvenience of counsel, should be first proceeded with. The court waspresided over by Mr. Justice Grose; and Mr. Gurney--afterwards Mr. BaronGurney--with another gentleman appeared for the prosecution. As soon asthe judge had taken his seat, the prisoner was ordered to be brought in, and a hush of expectation pervaded the assembly. In a few minutes he madehis appearance in the dock. His aspect--calm, mournful, and full ofpatient resignation--spoke strongly to the feelings of the audience, anda low murmur of sympathy ran through the court. He bowed respectfully tothe bench, and then his sad, proud eye wandered round the auditory, tillit rested on the form of Lucy Carrington, who, overcome by suddenemotion, had hidden her weeping face in her father's bosom. Strongfeeling, which he with difficulty mastered, shook his frame, and blanchedto a still deeper pallor his fine intellectual countenance. He slowlywithdrew his gaze from the agitating spectacle, and his troubled glancemeeting that of Mr. Sharpe, seemed to ask why proceedings, which _could_only have one termination, were delayed. He had not long to wait. Thejury were sworn, and Mr. Gurney rose to address them for the crown. Clear, terse, logical, powerful without the slightest pretence to what iscalled eloquence, his speech produced a tremendous impression upon allwho heard it; and few persons mentally withheld their assent to hisassertion, as he concluded what was evidently a painful task, "thatshould he produce evidence substantiating the statement he had made, theman who could then refuse to believe in the prisoner's guilt, wouldequally refuse credence to actions witnessed by his own bodily eyes. "

The different witnesses were then called, and testified to the variousfacts I have before related. Vainly did Mr. Kingston and I exertourselves to invalidate the irresistible proofs of guilt sodispassionately detailed. "It is useless, " whispered Mr. Sharpe, as I satdown after the cross-examination of the aged butler. "You have done allthat could be done; but he is a doomed man, spite of his innocence, ofwhich I feel, every moment that I look at him, the more and moreconvinced. God help us; we are poor, fallible creatures, with all ourscientific machinery for getting at truth!"

The case for the crown was over, and the prisoner was told that now wasthe time for him to address the jury in answer to the charge preferredagainst him. He bowed courteously to the intimation, and drawing a paperfrom his pocket, spoke, after a few preliminary words of course, nearlyas follows:--

"I hold in my hand a very acute and eloquent address prepared for me byone of the able and zealous gentlemen who appears to-day as my counsel, and which, but for the iniquitous law which prohibits the advocate of apresumed felon, but possibly quite innocent person, from addressing thejury, upon whose verdict his client's fate depends, would no doubt haveformed the subject-matter of an appeal to you not to yield credence tothe apparently irrefragable testimony arrayed against me. The substanceof this defence you must have gathered from the tenor of thecross-examinations; but so little effect did it produce, I saw, in thatform, however ably done, and so satisfied am I that though it wererendered with an angel's eloquence, it would prove utterly impotent toshake the strong conclusions of my guilt, which you, short-sighted, fallible mortals--short-sighted and fallible _because_ mortal!--I mean nodisrespect--must have drawn from the body of evidence you have heard, that I will not weary you or myself by reading it. I will only observethat it points especially to the _over_-roof, so to speak, arrayedagainst me--to the folly of supposing that an intentional murderer wouldostentatiously persist in administering the fatal potion to the victimwith his own hands, carefully excluding all others from a chance ofincurring suspicion. There are other points, but this is by far the mostpowerful one; and as I cannot believe _that_ will induce you to return averdict rescuing me from what the foolish world, judging fromappearances, will call a shameful death, but which I, knowing my ownheart, feel to be sanctified by the highest motives which can influenceman--it would be merely waste of time to repeat them. From the firstmoment, gentlemen, that this accusation was preferred against me, I feltthat I had done with this world; and, young as I am, but for one belovedbeing whose presence lighted up and irradiated this else cold and barrenearth, I should, with little reluctance, have accepted this gift of anapparently severe, but perhaps merciful fate. This life, gentlemen, " hecontinued after a short pause, "it has been well said, is but a battleand a march. I have been struck down early in the combat; but of whatmoment is that, if it be found by Him who witnesses the world-unnoticeddeeds of _all_ his soldiers, that I have earned the victor's crown? Letit be your consolation, gentlemen, if hereafter you should discover thatyou have sent me to an undeserved death, that you at least will not havehurried a soul spotted with the awful crime of murder before its Maker. And oh, " he exclaimed in conclusion, with solemn earnestness, "may _all_who have the guilt of blood upon them hasten, whilst life is stillgranted them, to cleanse themselves by repentance of that foul sin, sothat not only the sacrifice of one poor life, but that most holy andtremendous one offered in the world's consummate hour, may not for themhave been made in vain! My lord and gentlemen, I have no more to say. Youwill doubtless do your duty: I _have_ done mine. "

I was about, a few minutes after the conclusion of this strange andunexpected address, to call our witnesses to character, when, to thesurprise of the whole court, and the consternation of the prisoner, MissCarrington started up, threw aside her veil, and addressing the judge, demanded to be heard. 

Queenly, graceful, and of touching loveliness did she look in hervehemence of sorrow--radiant as sunlight in her days of joy she must havebeen--as she stood up, affection-prompted, regardless of self, of theworld, to make one last effort to save her affianced husband. 

"What would you say, young lady?" said Mr. Justice Grose, kindly. "If youhave anything to testify in favor of the prisoner, you had bettercommunicate with his counsel. "

"Not that--not that, " she hurriedly replied, as if fearful that herstrength would fail before she had enunciated her purpose. "Put, my lord, put Frederick--the prisoner, I mean--on his oath. Bid him declare, as heshall answer at the bar of Almighty God, who is the murderer for whom heis about to madly sacrifice himself, and you will then find"--

"Your request is an absurd one, " interrupted the judge with someasperity. "I have no power to question a prisoner. "

"Then, " shrieked the unfortunate lady, sinking back fainting and helplessin her father's arms, "he is lost--lost!"

She was immediately carried out of court; and as soon as the sensationcaused by so extraordinary and painful an incident had subsided, thetrial proceeded. A cloud of witnesses to character were called; the judgesummed up; the jury deliberated for a few minutes; and a verdict of"guilty" was returned. Sentence to die on the day after the nextfollowed, and all was over!

Yes; all was, we deemed, over; but happily a decree, reversing that ofMr. Justice Grose, had gone forth in Heaven. I was sitting at home aboutan hour after the court had closed, painfully musing on the events ofthe day, when the door of the apartment suddenly flew open, and inrushed Mr. Sharpe in a state of great excitement, accompanied bySergeant Edwards, whom the reader will remember had called the previousday at that gentleman's house. In a few minutes I was in possession ofthe following important information, elicited by Mr. Sharpe from thehalf-willing, half-reluctant sergeant, whom he had found waiting for himat his office:--

In the first place, Captain Everett was _not_ the father of the prisoner!The young man was the son of Mary Fitzhugh by her _first_ marriage; andhis name, consequently, was Mordaunt, not Everett. His mother hadsurvived her second marriage barely six months. Everett, calculatingdoubtless upon the great pecuniary advantages which would be likely toresult to himself as the reputed father of the heir to a splendid Englishestate, should the quarrel with Mrs. Eleanor Fitzhugh--as he nothingdoubted--be ultimately made up, had brought his deceased wife's infantson up as his own. This was the secret of Edwards and his wife; and topurchase their silence, Captain Everett had agreed to give the bond foran annuity which Mr. Sharpe was to draw up. The story of the legacy was amere pretence. When Edwards was in Yorkshire before, Everett pacifiedhim for the time with a sum of money, and a promise to do more for him assoon as his reputed son came into the property. He then hurried the_cidevant_ sergeant back to London; and at the last interview he hadwith him, gave him a note addressed to a person living in one of thestreets--I forget which--leading out of the Haymarket, together with afive-pound note, which he was to pay the person to whom the letter wasaddressed for some very rare and valuable powder, which the captainwanted for scientific purposes, and which Edwards was to forward by coachto Woodlands Manor-House. Edwards obeyed his instructions, and deliveredthe message to the queer bushy-bearded foreigner to whom it wasaddressed, who told him that, if he brought him the sum of moneymentioned in the note on the following day, he should have the articlerequired. He also bade him bring a well-stoppered bottle to put it in. Asthe bottle was to be sent by coach, Edwards purchased a tin flask, asaffording a better security against breakage; and having obtained thepowder, packed it nicely up, and told his niece, who was staying with himat the time, to direct it, as he was in a hurry to go out, to SquireEverett, Woodlands Manor-House, Yorkshire, and then take it to thebooking-office. He thought, of course, though he said _Squire_ in ajocular way, that she would have directed it _Captain_ Everett, as sheknew him well; but it seemed she had not. Edwards had returned toYorkshire only two days since, to get his annuity settled, andfortunately was present in court at the trial of Frederick Mordaunt, _alias_ Everett, and at once recognized the tin flask as the one he hadpurchased and forwarded to Woodlands, where it must in due course havearrived on the day stated by the butler. Terrified and bewildered at theconsequences of what he had done, or helped to do, Edwards hastened toMr. Sharpe, who, by dint of exhortations, threats, and promises, judiciously blended, induced him to make a clean breast of it. 

As much astounded as elated by this unlooked-for information, it was someminutes before I could sufficiently concentrate my thoughts upon theproper course to be pursued. I was not, however, long in deciding. Leaving Mr. Sharpe to draw up an affidavit of the facts disclosed, Ihastened off to the jail, in order to obtain a thorough elucidation ofall the mysteries. 

The revulsion of feeling in the prisoner's mind when he learned that theman for whom he had so recklessly sacrificed himself was not only _not_his father, but a cold-blooded villain, who, according to the testimonyof Sergeant Edwards, had embittered, perhaps shortened, his mother's lasthours, was immediate and excessive. "I should have taken Lucy's advice!"he bitterly exclaimed, as he strode to and fro in his cell; "have toldthe truth at all hazards, and have left the rest to God. " His explanationof the incidents that had so puzzled us all, was as simple assatisfactory. He had always, from his earliest days, stood much in awe ofhis father, who in the, to young Mordaunt, sacred character of parent, exercised an irresistible control over him; and when the butler enteredthe library, he believed for an instant it was his father who hadsurprised him in the act of reading his correspondence; an act which, however unintentional, would, he knew, excite Captain Everett's fiercestwrath. Hence arose the dismay and confusion which the butler haddescribed. He re-sealed the parcel, and placed it in his reputed father'sdressing-room; and thought little more of the matter, till, on enteringhis aunt's bedroom on the first evening of her illness, he beheld Everettpour a small portion of white powder from the tin flask into the bottlecontaining his aunt's medicine. The terrible truth at once flashed uponhim. A fierce altercation immediately ensued in the father'sdressing-room, whither Frederick followed him. Everett persisted that thepowder was a celebrated Eastern medicament, which would save, if anythingcould, his aunt's life. The young man was not of course deceived by thisshallow falsehood, and from that moment administered the medicine to thepatient with his own hands, and kept the bottles which contained itlocked up in his cabinet. "On the very morning of my aunt's death, Isurprised him shutting and locking one of my cabinet drawers. Sodumbfounded was I with horror and dismay at the sight, that he left theroom by a side-door without observing me. You have now the key to myconduct. I loathed to look upon the murderer; but I would have died athousand deaths rather than attempt to save my own life by the sacrificeof a father's--how guilty soever he might be. "

Furnished with this explanation, and the affidavit of Edwards, I waitedupon the judge, and obtained not only a respite for the prisoner, but awarrant for the arrest of Captain Everett. 

It was a busy evening. Edwards was despatched to London in the friendlycustody of an intelligent officer, to secure the person of theforeign-looking vender of subtle poisons; and Mr. Sharpe, with twoconstables, set off in a postchaise for Woodlands Manor-House. It waslate when they arrived there, and the servants informed them that CaptainEverett had already retired. They of course insisted upon seeing him; andhe presently appeared, wrapped in a dressing-gown, and haughtily demandedtheir business with him at such an hour. The answer smote him as with athunderbolt, and he staggered backwards, till arrested by the wall of theapartment, and then sank feebly, nervelessly, into a chair. Eagerly, after a pause, he questioned the intruders upon the nature of theevidence against him. Mr. Sharpe briefly replied that Edwards was incustody, and had revealed everything. 

"Is it indeed so?" rejoined Everett, seeming to derive resolution andfortitude from the very extremity of despair. "Then the game isunquestionably lost. It was, however, boldly and skilfully played, and Iam not a man to whimper over a fatal turn of the dice. In a few minutes, gentlemen, " he added, "I shall have changed my dress, and be ready toaccompany you. "

"We cannot lose sight of you for an instant, " replied Mr. Sharpe. "One ofthe officers must accompany you. "

"Be it so: I shall not detain either him or you long. "

Captain Everett, followed by the officer, passed into his dressing-room. He pulled off his gown; and pointing to a coat suspended on a peg at thefurther extremity of the apartment, requested the constable to reach itfor him. The man hastened to comply with his wish. Swiftly, Everettopened a dressing-case which stood on a table near him: the officerheard the sharp clicking of a pistol-lock, and turned swiftly round. Toolate! A loud report rang through the house; the room was filled withsmoke; and the wretched assassin and suicide lay extended on the floor amangled corpse!

It would be useless minutely to recapitulate, the final winding-up ofthis eventful drama. Suffice it to record, that Mr. Frederick Mordauntwas, after a slight delay, restored to freedom and a splendid position insociety. After the lapse of a decent interval, he espoused LucyCarrington. Their eldest son represents in this present parliament one ofthe English boroughs, and is by no means an undistinguished member of theCommons House. 

"THE ACCOMMODATION BILL. "

Such of the incidents of the following narrative as did not fall withinmy own personal observation, were communicated to me by the late Mr. Ralph Symonds, and the dying confessions of James Hornby, one of thepersons killed by the falling in of the iron roof of the BrunswickTheatre. A conversation the other day with a son of Mr. Symonds, who hasbeen long settled in London, recalled the entire chain of circumstancesto my memory with all the vivid distinctness of a first impression. 

One evening towards the close of the year 1806, the Leeds coach broughtMr. James Hornby to the village of Pool, on the Wharf, in the West-Ridingof Yorkshire. A small but respectable house on the confines of the placehad been prepared for his reception, and a few minutes after his descentfrom the top of the coach, the pale, withered-looking man disappearedwithin it. Except for occasional trips to Otley, a small market-towndistant about three miles from Pool, he rarely afterwards emerged fromits seclusion. It was not _Time_, we shall presently see--he was indeedbut four-and-forty years of age--that had bowed his figure, thinned hiswhitening hair, and banished from his countenance all signs of healthy, cheerful life. This, too, appeared to be the opinion of the gossips ofthe village, who, congregated, as usual, to witness the arrival anddeparture of the coach, indulged, thought Mr. Symonds, who was an insidepassenger proceeding on to Otley, in remarkably free-and-easycommentaries upon the past, present, and future of the new-comer. 

"I mind him well, " quavered an old white-haired man. "It's justthree-and-twenty years ago last Michaelmas. I remember it because of thehard frost two years before, that young Jim Hornby left Otley to go toLunnon: just the place, I'm told, to give the finishing polish to such amiscreant as he seemed likely to be. He was just out of his time to oldHornby, his uncle, the grocer. "

"He that's left him such heaps of money?"

"Ay, boy, the very same, though he wouldn't have given him or any oneelse a cheese-paring whilst he lived. This one is a true chip of theold block, I'll warrant. You noticed that he rode outside, bitter coldas it is?". 

"Surely, Gaffer Hicks. But do ye mind what it was he went off in such askurry for? Tom Harris was saying last night at the Horse-Shoe, it wassomething concerning a horse-race or a young woman; he warn't quitesensible which. "

"I can't say, " rejoined the more ancient oracle, "that I quite mind allthe ups and downs of it. Henry Burton horse-whipped him on the Doncasterrace-course, _that_ I know; but whether it was about Cinderella that had, they said, been tampered with the night before the race, or MissElizabeth Grainsford, whom Burton married a few weeks afterwards, Ican't, as Tom Harris says, quite clearly remember. "

"Old Hornby had a heavy grip of Burton's farm for a long time before hedied, they were saying yesterday at Otley. The sheepskins will now nodoubt be in the nephew's strong box. "

"True, lad; and let's hope Master Burton will be regular with hispayments; for if not, there's Jail and Ruin for him written in capitalletters on yon fellow's cast-iron phiz, I can see. "

The random hits of these Pool gossips, which were here interrupted bythe departure of the coach, were not very wide of the mark. James Hornby, it was quite true, had been publicly horsewhipped twenty-three yearsbefore by Henry Burton on the Doncaster race-course, ostensibly onaccount of the sudden withdrawal of a horse that should have started, atransaction with which young Hornby was in some measure mixed up; butespecially and really for having dared, upon the strength of presumptiveheirship to his uncle's wealth, to advance pretensions to the fair handof Elizabeth Gainsford, the eldest daughter of Mr. Robert Gainsford, surgeon, of Otley--pretensions indirectly favored, it was said, by thefather, but contemptuously repudiated by the lady. Be this as it may, three weeks after the races, Elizabeth Gainsford became Mrs. Burton, andJames Hornby hurried off to London, grudgingly furnished for the journeyby his uncle. He obtained a situation as shopman in one of the largegrocer establishments of the metropolis; and twenty-three yearsafterwards, the attorney's letter, informing him that he had succeeded toall his deceased uncle's property, found him in the same place, and inthe same capacity. 

A perfect yell of delight broke from the lips of the taciturn man as hisglance devoured the welcome intelligence. "At last!" he shouted withmaniacal glee; and fiercely crumpling the letter in his hand, as if heheld a living foe in his grasp, whilst a flash of fiendish passion brokefrom the deep caverns of his sunken eyes--"at last I have thee on thehip! Ah, mine enemy!--it is the dead--the dead alone that never returnto hurl back on the head of the wrong-doer the shame, the misery, theruin he inflicted in his hour of triumph!" The violence of passionssuddenly unreined after years of jealous curb and watchfulness for amoment overcame him, and he reeled as if fainting, into a chair. Thefierce, stern nature of the man soon mastered the unwonted excitement, and in a few minutes he was cold, silent, impassable as ever. The letterwhich he despatched the same evening gave calm, business orders as tohis uncle's funeral, and other pressing matters upon which the attorneyhad demanded instructions, and concluded by intimating that he should bein Yorkshire before many days elapsed. He arrived, as we have seen, andtook up his abode at one of the houses bequeathed to him in Pool, whichhappened to be unlet. 

Yes, for more than twenty bitter years James Hornby had savagely broodedover the shame and wrong inflicted on him before the mocking eyes of abrutal crowd by Henry Burton. Ever as the day's routine business closed, and he retired to the dull solitude of his chamber, the last mind-picturewhich faded on his waking sense was the scene on the crowded race-course, with all its exasperating accessories--the merciless exultation of thetriumphant adversary--the jibes and laughter of his companions--thehootings of the mob--to be again repeated with fantastic exaggeration inthe dreams which troubled and perplexed his broken sleep. No wonder thatthe demons of Revenge and Hate, by whom he was thus goaded, should havewithered by their poisonous breath the healthful life which God hadgiven--have blasted with premature old age a body rocker with curses tounblessed repose! It seemed, by his after-confessions, that he had reallyloved Elizabeth Gainsford with all the energy of his violent, moodynature, and that her image, fresh, lustrous, radiant, as in the dawn oflife, unceasingly haunted his imagination with visions of tenderness andbeauty, lost to him, as he believed, through the wiles, the calumnies, and violence of his detested, successful rival. 

The matronly person who, a few days after the Christmas followingHornby's arrival at Pool, was conversing with her husband in the parlorof Grange farmhouse, scarcely realized the air-drawn image which dwelt inthe memory of the unforgiving, unforgetting man. Mrs. Burton was at thistime a comely dame, whose _embonpoint_ contour, however indicative offlorid health and serenity of temper, exhibited little of the airyelegance and grace said to have distinguished the girlhood of ElizabethGainsford. Her soft brown eyes were gentle and kind as ever, but thebrilliant lights of youth no longer sparkled in their quiet depths, andtime had not only "thinned her flowing hair"--necessitating caps--but hadbrushed the roses from her cheeks, and swept away, with his searing hand, the pale lilies from the furtive coverts whence they had glanced intremulous beauty, in life's sweet prime; yet for all that, and a greatdeal more, Mrs. Burton, I have no manner of doubt, looked charmingly inthe bright fire-blaze which gleamed in chequered light and shade upon thewalls, pictures, curtains of the room, and the green leaves and scarletberries of the Christmas holly with which it was profusely decorated. Three of her children--the eldest, Elizabeth, a resuscitation of her ownyouth--were by her side, and opposite sat her husband, whose frank, hearty countenance seemed to sparkle with careless mirth. 

"Hornby will be here presently, Elizabeth, " said he. "What adisappointment awaits the rascally curmudgeon! His uncle was a princecompared to him. "

"Disappointment, Henry! to receive four hundred pounds he did notexpect?"

"Ay, truly, dame. Lawyer Symonds' son Frank, a fine, good-hearted youngfellow as ever stepped in shoe-leather--Lizzy, girl, if that candlewere nearer your face it would light without a match"--

"Nonsense, father!"

"Very likely. Frank Symonds, I was saying, believes, and so does hisfather, that Hornby would rejoice at an opportunity of returning withinterest the smart score I marked upon his back three-and-twentyyears ago"

"It was a thoughtless, cruel act, Henry, " rejoined his wife, "and theless said of it the better. I hope the fright we have had will induce youto practice a better economy than heretofore; so that, instead ofallowing two years' interest to accumulate upon us, we may graduallyreduce the mortgage. "

"That we will, dear, depend upon it. We shall be pushed a little atfirst: Kirkshaw, who lent me the two hundred and fifty, can only spare itfor a month; but no doubt the bank will do a bill for part of it by thattime. But sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. Here is the moneyfor Hornby at all events: and here at last comes the shrivelled atomy; Ihear his horse. Fanny, light the candles. "

If Mrs. Burton had consciously or unconsciously entertained theself-flattering notion that the still unwedded bachelor who hadunsuccessfully wooed her nearly a quarter of a century before, stillretained a feeling of regretful tenderness for her, she must have beengrievously surprised by the cold, unrecognizing glance which Hornbythrew on her as he entered, and curtly replied to her civil greeting. _That_ was not the image stamped upon his heart and brain! But when hereldest daughter approached the lights to place paper and pens upon thetable, the flashing glance and white quivering lip of the grave visitorrevealed the tempest of emotion which for an instant shook him. Hequickly suppressed all outward manifestation of feeling, and in a dry, business tone, demanded if Mr. Burton was ready to pay the interest ofthe mortgage. 

"Yes, thank God, " replied Burton, "I am: here is the money in notes ofthe Governor and Company of the Bank of England. Count them!"

Hornby bent down over the notes, shading his face with his hand, as ifmore accurately to examine them, and the glance of baffled rage whichswept across his features was not observed. 

"They are quite right, " he said, rising from his chair; "and here isyour receipt. "

"Very Good! And now, Hornby, let us have a glass of wine together for thesake of old times. Well, well; you need not look so fierce about it. Letbygones be bygones, I say. Oh, if you _will_ go--go in God's name!Good-night!"

"Good-night!"

"Baffled--foiled!" muttered Hornby as he rode homeward. "Where could heget the money? Borrowed it, doubtless, but of whom? Well, patience--patience! I shall grip thee yet, Henry Burton!" And thepossessed man turned round in his saddle, and shook his clenched hand inthe direction of the house he had quitted. He then steadily pursued hisway, and soon regained his hermitage. 

The month for which Burton had borrowed the two hundred and fifty poundspassed rapidly--as months always do to borrowers--and expedient afterexpedient for raising the money was tried in vain. This money must berepaid, Kirkshaw had emphatically told him, on the day stipulated. Burtonapplied to the bank at Leeds, with which he usually did business, todiscount an acceptance, guaranteed by one or two persons whose names hementioned. The answer was the usual civil refusal to accept the profferedsecurity for repayment--"the bank was just then full of discounts. "Burton ventured, as a last resource, to call on Hornby with a requestthat, as the rapid advance in the market-value of land consequent on thehigh war-prices obtained for its produce, had greatly increased the worthof Grange Farm, he would add the required sum to the already-existingmortgage. He was met by a prompt refusal. Mr. Hornby intended toforeclose as speedily as possible the mortgages he already held, andinvest his capital in more profitable securities. "Well, then--would helend the amount at any interest he chose?"

"The usury laws, " replied Hornby, with his usual saturnine sneer, "wouldprevent my acceptance of your obliging offer, even if I had the presentmeans, which I have not. My spare cash happens just now to be temporarilylocked up. "

Burton, half-crazed with anxiety, went the following day to the Leedsbank with the proffer of a fresh name agreed to be lent him by itsowner. Useless! "They did not know the party. " The applicant mused afew moments, and then said, "Would you discount the note of Mr. JamesHornby of Pool?"

"Certainly; with a great deal of pleasure. " Burton hurried away; had hishorse instantly saddled, and gallopped off to Pool. Hornby was at home. 

"You hinted the other day, " said Burton, "that if you had not been shortof present means you might have obliged me with the loan I required"

"Did I?"

"At least I so understood you. I am of course not ignorant, Mr. Hornby, that there is no good blood between us two; but I also know that you arefond of money, and that you are fully aware that I am quite safe for afew hundred pounds. I am come, therefore, to offer you ten pounds _bonus_for your acceptance at one month for two hundred and fifty pounds. "

"What?" exclaimed Hornby with strange vehemence. "What"

Burton repeated his offer, and Hornby turned away towards the windowwithout speaking. 

When he again faced Burton, his countenance wore its usual color; butthe expression of his eyes, the applicant afterwards remembered, waswild and exulting. 

"Have you a bill stamp?"

"Yes. "

"Then draw the bill at once, and I will accept it. "

Burton did not require to be twice told. The bill was quickly drawn;Hornby took it to another table at the further end of the apartment, slowly wrote his name across it, folded, and returned it to Burton, whotendered the ten pounds he had offered, and a written acknowledgment thatthe bill had been drawn and accepted for his (Burton's) accommodation. 

"I don't want your money, Henry Burton, " said Hornby, putting back thenote and the memorandum. "I am not afraid of losing by this transaction. You do not know me yet. "

"A queer stick, " thought Burton, as he gained the street; "but Old Nickis seldom so black as he's painted! He was a plaguy while, I thought, signing his name; but I wish I could sign mine to such good purpose. "

Burton laid the accepted bill, face downwards, on the bank counter, tooka pen, indorsed, and passed it to the managing clerk. The gray-headed manglanced sharply at the signature, and then at Burton, "Why, surely thisis not Mr. Hornby's signature? It does not at all resemble it!"

"Not his signature!" exclaimed Burton; "what do you mean by that?"

"Reynolds, look here, " continued the clerk, addressing another of thebank _employés_. Reynolds looked, and his immediate glance of surpriseand horror at Burton revealed the impression he had formed. 

"Please to step this way, Mr. Burton, to a private apartment, " saidthe manager. 

"No--no, I won't, " stammered the unfortunate man, over whose mind adreadful suspicion had glanced with the suddenness of lightning. "I willgo back to Hornby;" and he made a desperate but vain effort to snatch thefatal instrument. Then, pale and staggering with a confused terror andbewilderment, he attempted to rush into the street. He was stopped, withthe help of the bystanders, by one of the clerks, who had jumped over thecounter for the purpose. 

The messenger despatched by the bankers to Hornby returned with an answerthat the alleged acceptance was a forgery. It was stated on the part ofMr. Hornby that Mr. Burton had indeed requested him to lend two hundredand fifty pounds, but he had refused. The frantic asseverations of poorBurton were of course disregarded, and he was conveyed to jail. Anexamination took place the next day before the magistrates, and theresult was, that the prisoner was fully committed on the then capitalcharge for trial at the ensuing assize. 

It were useless, as painful, to dwell upon the consternation and agonywhich fell upon the dwellers at Grange Farm when the terrible newsreached them. A confident belief in the perfect innocence of theprisoner, participated by most persons who knew his character and that ofHornby, and that it would be triumphantly vindicated on the day of trial, which rapidly approached, alone enabled them to bear up against the blow, and to await with trembling hope the verdict of a jury. 

It was at this crisis of the drama that I became an actor in it. I wasretained for the defence by my long-known and esteemed friend Symonds, whose zeal for his client, stimulated by strong personal friendship, knewno bounds. The acceptance, he informed me, so little resembled Hornby'shandwriting, that if Burton had unfolded the bill when given back to himby the villain, he could hardly have failed to suspect the nature of thediabolical snare set for his life. 

In those days, and until Mr. , now Sir, Robert Peel's amendment of thecriminal law and practice of this country, the acceptor of a bill ofexchange, on the principle that he was _interested_ in denying thegenuineness of the signature, could not, according to the English law ofevidence, be called, on the part of the prosecution, to prove theforgery; and of course, after what had taken place, we did not propose tocall Hornby for the defence. The evidence for the crown consisted, therefore, on the day of trial, of the testimony of persons acquaintedwith Hornby's signature, that the acceptance across the inculpated billwas not in his handwriting. Burton's behavior at the bank, in endeavoringto repossess himself of the bill by violence, was of course detailed, andtold heavily against him. 

All the time this testimony was being given, Hornby sat on one of thefront seats of the crowded court, exulting in the visible accomplishmentof his Satanic device. We could see but little of his face, which, supported on his elbow, was partially concealed by a handkerchief he heldin his hand; but I, who narrowly observed him, could occasionally discernflashes from under his pent brows--revealments of the fierce strugglewhich raged within. 

The moment at last arrived for the prisoner, whose eyes had been for sometime fixed on Hornby, to speak or read his defence, and a breathlesssilence pervaded the court. 

Burton started at the summons, like a man unexpectedly recalled to asense of an imperious, but for the moment forgotten, duty. 

"James Hornby!" he suddenly cried with a voice which rang through theassembly like a trumpet, "stand up, and if you can face an innocentman"--

Hornby, surprised out of his self-possession, mechanically obeyed thestrange order, sprang involuntarily to his feet, let fall thehandkerchief that had partially concealed his features, and nervouslyconfronted the prisoner. 

"Look at me, I say, " continued Burton with increasing excitement; "and asyou hope to escape the terrors of the last judgment, answer truly: didyou not, with your own hand, and in my presence, sign that bill?"--

"This cannot be permitted, " interrupted the judge. 

"If you do not speak, " proceeded the prisoner, heedless of theintimation from the bench; "or if you deny the truth, my life, as sureas there is a God in heaven, will be required at your hands. If, inconsequence of your devilish plotting, these men consign me to a felon'sgrave, I shall not be cold in it when you will be calling upon themountains to fall and cover you from the vengeance of the Judge ofheaven and earth! Speak, man--save me: save your own soul from mortalperil whilst there is yet time for mercy and repentance!"

Hornby's expression of surprise and confusion had gradually changedduring this appeal to its usual character of dogged impassibility. Heturned calmly and appealingly towards the bench. 

"You need not answer these wild adjurations, Mr. Hornby, " said the judge, as soon as he could make himself heard. 

A smile curled the fellow's lip as he bowed deferentially to hislordship, and he sat down without uttering a syllable. 

"May the Lord, then, have mercy on my soul!" exclaimed the prisonersolemnly. Then glancing at the bench and jury-box, he added, "And you, mylord and gentlemen, work your will with my body as quickly as you may: Iam a lost man!"

The calling of witnesses to character, the opening of the judge's charge, pointing from its first sentence to a conviction, elicited no furthermanifestation of feeling from the prisoner: he was as calm as despair. 

The judge had been speaking for perhaps ten minutes, when a bustle washeard at the hall, as if persons were striving to force their way intothe body of the court in spite of the resistance of the officers. 

"Who is that disturbing the court?" demanded the judge angrily. 

"For the love of Heaven let me pass!" we heard uttered in passionatetones by a female voice. "I must and will see the judge!"

"Who can this be?" T inquired, addressing Mr. Symonds. 

"I cannot conceive, " he replied; "surely not Mrs. Burton?"

I had kept my eye, as I spoke, upon Hornby, and noticed that he exhibitedextraordinary emotion at the sound of the voice, to whomsoever itbelonged, and was now endeavoring to force his way through the crowdedand anxious auditory. 

"My lord, " said I, "I have to request on the part of the prisoner thatthe person desirous of admittance may be heard. "

"What has she to say? Or if a material witness, why have you not calledher at the proper time?" replied his lordship with some irritation. 

"My lord, I do not even now know her name; but in a case involving thelife of the prisoner, it is imperative that no chance be neglected"--

"Let the woman pass into the witness-box, " interrupted the judge. 

The order brought before our eyes a pale, stunted woman, of about fiftyyears of age, whose excited and by no means unintellectual features, andhurried, earnest manner, seemed to betoken great and unusual feeling. 

"As I'm alive, Hornby's deformed housekeeper!" whispered Symonds. "Thispoor devil's knot will be unraveled yet. "

The woman, whose countenance and demeanor, as she gave her evidence, exhibited a serious, almost solemn intelligence, deposed to thefollowing effect:--

"Her name was Mary McGrath, and she was the daughter of Irish parents, but born and brought up in England. She had been Mr. Hornby'shousekeeper, and remembered well the 4th of February last, when Mr. Burton, the prisoner, called at the house. Witness was dusting in anapartment close to her master's business-room, from which it was onlyseparated by a thin wooden partition. The door was partly open, and shecould see as well as hear what was going on without being seen herself. She heard the conversation between the prisoner and her master; heardMr. Hornby agree to sign the paper--bill she ought to say--for twohundred and fifty pounds; saw him do it, and then deliver it folded upto Mr. Burton. "

A shout of execration burst from the auditory as these words wereuttered, and every eye was turned to the spot where Hornby had beenseated. He had disappeared during the previous confusion. 

"Silence!" exclaimed the judge sternly. "Why, woman, " he added, "have younever spoken of this before?"

"Because, my lord, " replied the witness with downcast looks, and in alow, broken voice--"because I am a sinful, wicked creature. When mymaster, the day after Mr. Burton had been taken up, discovered that Iknew his secret, he bribed me with money and great promises of more tosilence. I had been nearly all my life, gentlemen, poor and miserable, almost an outcast, and the temptation was too strong for me. Hemistrusted me, however--for my mind, he saw, was sore troubled--and hesent me off to London yesterday, to be out of the way till all was over. The coach stopped at Leeds, and, as it was heavy upon me, I thought, especially as it was the blessed Easter-time, that I would step to thechapel. His holy name be praised that I did! The scales seemed to fallfrom my eyes, and I saw clearer than I had before the terrible wickednessI was committing. I told all to the priest, and he has brought me here tomake what amends I can for the sin and cruelty of which I have beenguilty. There--there is all that is left of the wages of crime, " sheadded, throwing a purse of money on the floor of the court; and thenbursting into a flood of tears, she exclaimed with passionateearnestness, "for which may the Almighty of his infinite mercy pardon andabsolve me!"

"Amen!" responded the deep husky voice of the prisoner, snatched back, asit were, from the very verge of the grave to liberty and life. "Amen, with all my soul!"

The counsel for the crown, cross-examined the witness, but his effortsonly brought out her evidence in, if possible, a still clearer and moretrustworthy light. Not a thought of doubt was entertained by any personin the court, and the jury, with the alacrity of men relieved of agrievous burthen, and without troubling the judge to resume hisinterrupted charge, returned a verdict of acquittal. 

The return of Burton to his home figured as an ovation in the Pool andOtley annals. The greetings which met him on all sides were boisterousand hearty, as English greetings usually are; and it was with somedifficulty the rustic constabulary could muster a sufficient force tosave Hornby's domicile from sack and destruction. All the windows were, however, smashed, and that the mob felt was something at all events. 

Burton profited by the painful ordeal to which he had, primarily throughhis own thoughtlessness, been exposed, and came in a few years to beregarded as one of the most prosperous yeomen-farmers of Yorkshire. Mr. Frank Symonds' union with Elizabeth Burton was in due time solemnized;Mr. Wilberforce, the then popular member for the West Riding, I rememberhearing, stood sponsor to their eldest born; and Mary McGrath passed theremainder of her life in the service of the family her testimony hadsaved from disgrace and ruin. 

Mr. James Hornby disappeared from Yorkshire immediately after the trial, and, except through his business agents, was not again heard of till thecatastrophe at the Brunswick Theatre, where he perished. He diedpenitent, after expressing to Mr. Frank Symonds, for whom he had sent, his deep sorrow for the evil deed he had planned, and, but for amerciful interposition, would have accomplished. As a proof of thesincerity of his repentance, he bequeathed the bulk of his property toMrs. Symonds, the daughter of the man he had pursued with such savageand relentless hate!

THE REFUGEE. 

The events which I am about to relate occurred towards the close of thelast century, some time before I was called to the bar, and do nottherefore in strictness fall within my own experiences as a barrister. Still, as they came to my knowledge with much greater completeness thanif I had been only professionally engaged to assist in the catastrophe ofthe drama through which they are evolved, and, as I conceive, throw astrong light upon the practical working of our criminal jurisprudence, abrief page of these slight leaves may not inappropriately record them. 

About the time I have indicated, a Mrs. Rushton, the widow of a gentlemanof commercial opulence, resided in Upper Harley Street, Cavendish Square. She was a woman of "family, " and by her marriage had greatly loweredherself, in her relatives' opinion, by a union with a person who, howeverwealthy and otherwise honorable, was so entirely the architect of his ownfortunes--owed all that he possessed so immediately to his own skill, sagacity, and perseverance--that there was an unpleasant rumor abroadabout his widowed mother being indebted to her son's success in businessfor having passed the last ten years of her life in ease and competence. Mr. Rushton had left his widow a handsome annuity, and to his and heronly son a well-invested income of upwards of seven thousand a year. Since the death of her husband, Mrs. Rushton, who inherited quite herfull share of family pride, if nothing else, had sought by every methodshe could devise to re-enter the charmed circle from which her union witha city merchant had excluded her. The most effectual mode ofaccomplishing her purpose was, she knew, to bring about a marriagebetween her son and a lady who would not be indisposed to accept ofwealth and a well-appointed establishment in Mayfair as a set-off againstbirth and high connection. 

Arthur Rushton, at this time between two and three-and-twenty years ofage, was a mild, retiring, rather shy person, and endowed with atenderness of disposition, of which the tranquil depths had not as yetbeen ruffled by the faintest breath of passion. His mother possessedalmost unbounded influence over him; and he ever listened with a smile, alanguid, half-disdainful one, to her eager speculations upon the numerouseligible matches that would present themselves the instant the "season"and their new establishment in Mayfair--of which the decoration andfurnishing engaged all her available time and attention--enabled them toopen the campaign with effect. Arthur Rushton and myself had been collegecompanions, and our friendly intimacy continued for several yearsafterwards. At this period especially we were very cordial and unreservedin our intercourse with each other. 

London at this time was crowded with French exiles, escaped from thedevouring sword of Robespierre and his helpers in the work of governmentby the guillotine, almost all of whom claimed to be members of, orclosely connected with, the ancient nobility of France. Among these wasan elderly gentleman of the name of De Tourville, who, with his daughterEugénie, had for a considerable time occupied a first floor in KingStreet, Holborn. Him I never saw in life, but Mademoiselle de Tourvillewas one of the most accomplished, graceful, enchantingly-interestingpersons I have ever seen or known. There was a dangerous fascination inthe pensive tenderness through which her natural gaiety and archness ofmanner would at intervals flash, like April sunlight glancing throughclouds and showers, which, the first time I saw her, painfully impressedas much as it charmed me--perceiving, as I quickly did, that with her thefuture peace, I could almost have said life, of Arthur Rushton wasirrevocably bound up. The fountains of his heart were for the first timestirred to their inmost depths, and, situated as he and she were, whatbut disappointment, bitterness, and anguish could well-up from thosetroubled waters? Mademoiselle de Tourville, I could perceive, was fullyaware of the impression she had made upon the sensitive and amiableEnglishman; and I sometimes discovered an expression of pity--ofsorrowful tenderness, as it were--pass over her features as somedistincter revelation than usual of the nature of Arthur Rushton'semotions flashed upon her. I also heard her express herself severaltimes, as overtly as she could, upon the _impossibility_ there existedthat she should, however much she might desire it, settle in England, oreven remain in it for any considerable length of time. All this Iunderstood, or thought I did, perfectly; but Rushton, bewildered, entranced by feelings altogether new to him, saw nothing, heard nothingbut her presence, and felt, without reasoning upon it, that in thatdelirious dream it was his fate either to live or else to bear no life. Mrs. Rushton--and this greatly surprised me--absorbed in her matrimonialand furnishing schemes and projects, saw nothing of what was going on. Probably the notion that her son should for an instant think of allyinghimself with an obscure, portionless foreigner, was, to a mind like hers, too absurd to be for a moment entertained; or--But stay; borne along bya crowd of rushing thoughts, I have, I find, somewhat anticipated theregular march of my narrative. 

M. And Mademoiselle de Tourville, according to the after-testimony oftheir landlord, Mr. Osborn, had, from the time of their arrival inEngland, a very constant visitor at their lodgings in King Street. He wasa tall French gentleman, of perhaps thirty years of age, anddistinguished appearance. His name was La Houssaye. He was veryfrequently with them indeed, and generally he and M. De Tourville wouldgo out together in the evening, the latter gentleman not returning hometill very late. This was more especially the case after Mademoiselle deTourville ceased to reside with her father. 

Among the fashionable articles with which Mrs. Rushton was anxious tosurround herself, was a companion of accomplishments and high-breeding, who might help her to rub off the rust she feared to have contracted byher connection with the city. A Parisian lady of high lineage and perfectbreeding might, she thought, be easily obtained; and an advertisementbrought Mademoiselle de Tourville to her house. Mrs. Rushton wasdelighted with the air and manners of the charming applicant; and after aslight inquiry by letter to an address of reference given by the younglady, immediately engaged her, on exceedingly liberal terms, for sixmonths--that being the longest period for which Mademoiselle de Tourvillecould undertake to remain. She also stipulated for permission to pass thegreater part of one day in the week--that which might happen to be mostconvenient to Mrs. Rushton--with her father. One other conditiontestified alike to M. De Tourville's present poverty and her own filialpiety: it was, that her salary should be paid weekly--she would notaccept it in advance--avowedly for her parent's necessities, who, poorexile! and tears stood in Eugénie's dark lustrous eyes as she spoke, wasever trembling on the brink of the grave from an affection of the heartwith which he had been long afflicted. Mademoiselle de Tourville, Ishould state, spoke English exceedingly well as far as the rules ofsyntax and the meanings of words went, and with an accent charming in itsvery defectiveness. 

She had resided with Mrs. Rushton, who on all occasions treated her withthe greatest kindness and consideration, for rather more than two months, when an incident occurred which caused the scales to fall suddenly fromthe astonished mother's eyes, and in a moment revealed to her the extentof the risk and mischief she had so heedlessly incurred. The carriage wasat the door, and it struck Mrs. Rushton as she was descending the stairsthat Mademoiselle de Tourville, who had complained of headache in themorning, would like to take an airing with her. The sound of the harpissuing from the drawing-room, and the faintly-distinguished tones of hervoice in some plaintive silver melody perhaps suggested the invitation;and thither the mistress of the mansion at once proceeded. Thefolding-doors of the back drawing-room were partially open when Mrs. Rushton, on kind thoughts intent, entered the front apartment. Mademoiselle de Tourville was seated with her back towards her at theharp, pouring forth with her thrilling and delicious voice a Frenchromaunt; and there, with his head supported on his elbow, which rested onthe marble chimney-piece, stood her son, Arthur Rushton, gazing at theapparently-unconscious songstress with a look so full of devotedtenderness--so completely revealing the intensity of passion by which hewas possessed--that Mrs. Rushton started with convulsive affright, andcould not for several minutes give articulation to the dismay and ragewhich choked her utterance Presently, however, her emotions foundexpression, and a storm of vituperative abuse was showered upon the headof the astonished Eugénie, designated as an artful _intrigante_, adesigning pauper, who had insinuated herself into the establishment forthe sole purpose of entrapping Mr. Arthur Rushton--with a great deal moreto the same effect. Mademoiselle de Tourville, who had first been toomuch surprised by the unexpected suddenness of the attack to quitecomprehend the intent and direction of the blows, soon recovered herself-possession and hauteur. A smile of contempt curled her beautifullip, as, taking advantage of a momentary pause in Mrs. Rushton'sbreathless tirade, she said, "Permit me, madam, to observe that if, asyou seem to apprehend, your son has contemplated honoring me by the offerof an alliance with his ancient House"--Her look at this moment glancedupon the dreadfully agitated young man; the expression of disdainfulbitterness vanished in an instant from her voice and features; and aftera few moments, she added, with sad eyes bent upon the floor, "That hecould not have made a more unhappy choice--more unfortunate for him, moreimpossible for me!" She then hastily left the apartment, and before aquarter of an hour had elapsed, had left the house in a hackney-coach. 

The scene which followed between the mother and son was a violent anddistressing one. Mr. Rushton, goaded to fury by his mother's attack uponMademoiselle de Tourville, cast off the habit of deference and submissionwhich he had always worn in her presence, and asserted with vehemence hisright to wed with whom he pleased, and declared that no power on earthshould prevent him marrying the lady just driven ignominiously from thehouse if she could be brought to accept the offer of his hand andfortune! Mrs. Rushton fell into passionate hysterics; and her son, havingfirst summoned her maid, withdrew to ruminate on Mademoiselle deTourville's concluding sentence, which troubled him far more that what hedeemed the injustice of his mother. 

When Mrs. Rushton, by the aid of water, pungent essences, and the reliefwhich even an hour of time seldom fails to yield in such cases, hadpartially recovered her equanimity, she determined, after carefulconsideration of the best course of action, to consult a solicitor ofeminence, well acquainted with her late husband, upon the matter. She hada dim notion that the Alien Act, if it could be put in motion, might ridher of Mademoiselle de Tourville and her friends. Thus resolving, andever scrupulous as to appearances, she carefully smoothed her ruffledplumage, changed her disordered dress, and directed the carriage, whichhad been dismissed, to be again brought round to the door. "Mary, " sheadded a few moments afterwards, "bring me my jewel-case--the small one:you will find it in Made--in that French person's dressing-room. "

Mary Austin reappeared in answer to the violent ringing of her impatientlady's bell, and stated that the jewel-case could nowhere be found inMademoiselle's dressing-room. "Her clothes, everything belonging to her, had been taken out of the wardrobe, and carried away, and perhaps thatalso in mistake no doubt. "

"Nonsense, woman!" replied Mrs. Rushton. "I left it not long ago on hertoilet-glass. I intended to show her a purchase I had made, and notfinding her, left it as I tell you. "

Another search was made with the same ill-success. Mary Austin afterwardssaid that when she returned to her mistress the second time, to say thatthe jewel-case was certainly gone, an expression of satisfaction insteadof anger, it seemed to her, glanced across Mrs. Rushton's face, whoimmediately left the room, and in a few minutes afterwards was drivenoff in the carriage. 

About an hour after her departure I called in Harley Street for ArthurRushton, with whom I had engaged to go this evening to the theatre towitness Mrs. Siddons's Lady Macbeth, which neither of us had yet seen. Ifound him in a state of calmed excitement, if I may so express myself;and after listening with much interest to the minute account he gave meof what had passed, I, young and inexperienced as I was in such affairs, took upon myself to suggest that, as the lady he nothing doubted was asirreproachable in character as she was confessedly charming andattractive in person and manners, and as he was unquestionably his ownmaster, Mrs. Rushton's opposition was not likely to be of longcontinuance; and that as to Mademoiselle de Tourville's somewhatdiscouraging expression, such sentences from the lips of ladies--

 "That would be wooed, and not unsought be won"--

were seldom, if ever, I had understood, to be taken in a literal andpositive sense. Under this mild and soothing treatment, Mr. Rushtongradually threw off a portion of the load that oppressed him, and we setoff in tolerably cheerful mood for the theatre. 

Mrs. Siddons' magnificent and appalling impersonation over, we left thehouse; he, melancholy and sombre as I had found him in Harley Street, andI in by no means a gay or laughing mood. We parted at my door, andwhether it was the effect of the tragedy, so wonderfully realized in itschief creation, or whether coming events _do_ sometimes cast theirshadows before, I cannot say, but I know that an hour after Rushton'sdeparture I was still sitting alone, my brain throbbing with excitement, and so nervous and impressionable, that a sudden, vehement knocking atthe street entrance caused me to spring up from my chair with a terrifiedstart, and before I could master the impulsive emotion, the room-door wasthrown furiously open, and in reeled Arthur Rushton--pale, haggard, wild--his eyes ablaze with horror and affright! Had the ghost of Duncansuddenly gleamed out of the viewless air I could not have been morestartled--awed!

"She is dead!--poisoned!" he shrieked with maniacal fury;"killed!--murdered!--and by _her_!"

I gasped for breath, and could hardly articulate--"What! whom?"

"My mother!" he shouted with the same furious vehemence--"Killed! by_her_! Oh, horror!--horror!--horror!" and exhausted by the violence ofhis emotions, the unfortunate gentleman staggered, shuddered violently, as if shaken by an ague fit, and fell heavily--for I was too confoundedto yield him timely aid--on the floor. 

As soon as I could rally my scattered senses, I caused medical aid to besummoned, and got him to bed. Blood was freely taken from both arms, andhe gradually recovered consciousness. Leaving him in kind and carefulhands, I hurried off to ascertain what possible foundation there could befor the terrible tidings so strangely announced. 

I found the establishment in Harley Street in a state of the wildestconfusion and dismay. Mrs. Rushton _was_ dead; that, at all events, wasno figment of sudden insanity, and incredible, impossible rumors wereflying from mouth to mouth with bewildering rapidity and incoherence. The name of Mademoiselle de Tourville was repeated in every variety ofabhorrent emphasis; but it was not till I obtained an interview withMrs. Rushton's solicitor that I could understand what really hadoccurred, or, to speak more properly, what was suspected. Mrs. Rushtonhad made a deposition, of which Mr. Twyte related to me the essentialpoints. The deceased lady had gone out in her carriage with the expressintention of calling on him, the solicitor, to ascertain if it would bepossible to apply the Alien Act to Mademoiselle de Tourville and herfather, in order to get them sent out of the country. Mr. Twyte did nothappen to be at home, and Mrs. Rushton immediately drove to the DeTourvilles' lodgings in King Street, Holborn, with the design, sheadmitted, of availing herself of what she was in her own mind satisfiedwas the purely accidental taking away of a jewel-case, to terrifyMademoiselle de Tourville, by the threat of a criminal charge, intoleaving the country, or at least to bind herself not to admit, under anycircumstances, of Mr. Arthur Rushton's addresses. She found Eugénie in astate of extraordinary, and it seemed painful excitement; and the younglady entreated that whatever Mrs. Rushton had to say should be reservedfor another opportunity, when she would calmly consider whatever Mrs. Rushton had to urge. The unfortunate lady became somewhat irritated atMademoiselle de Tourville's obstinacy, and the unruffled contempt withwhich she treated the charge of robbery, even after finding the missingjewel-case in a band-box, into which it had been thrust with somebrushes and other articles in the hurry of leaving. Mrs. Rushton wasiterating her threats in a loud tone of voice, and moved towards thebell to direct, she said, the landlord to send for a constable, but withno intention whatever of doing so, when Mademoiselle de Tourville caughther suddenly by the arm, and bade her step into the next room. Mrs. Rushton mechanically obeyed, and was led in silence to the side of abed, of which Eugénie suddenly drew the curtain, and displayed to her, with a significant and reproachful gesture, the pale, rigid countenanceof her father's corpse, who had, it appears, suddenly expired. The shockwas terrible. Mrs. Rushton staggered back into the sitting-room, sickand faint, sank into a chair, and presently asked for a glass of wine. "We have no wine, " replied Mademoiselle de Tourville; "but there is acordial in the next room which may be better for you. " She was absentabout a minute, and on returning, presented Mrs. Rushton with a largewine-glassful of liquid, which the deceased lady eagerly swallowed. Thetaste was strange, but not unpleasant; and instantly afterwards Mrs. Rushton left the house. When the carriage reached Harley Street, she wasfound to be in a state of great prostration: powerful stimulants wereadministered, but her life was beyond the reach of medicine. Shesurvived just long enough to depose to the foregoing particulars; uponwhich statement Mademoiselle de Tourville had been arrested, and was nowin custody. 

"You seem to have been very precipitate, " I exclaimed as soon as thesolicitor had ceased speaking: "there appears to be as yet no proof thatthe deceased lady died of other than natural causes. "

"You are mistaken, " rejoined Mr. Twyte. "There is no doubt on the subjectin the minds of the medical gentlemen, although the _post-mortem_examination has not yet taken place. And, as if to put aside all doubt, the bottle from which this Eugénie de Tourville admits she took thecordial proves to contain distilled laurel-water, a deadly poison, curiously colored and flavored. "

Greatly perturbed, shocked, astonished as I was, my mind refused toadmit, even for a moment, the probability, hardly the possibility, ofEugénie de Tourville's guilt. The reckless malignancy of spirit evincedby so atrocious an act dwelt not, I was sure, within that beauteoustemple. The motives alleged to have actuated her--fear of a criminalcharge, admitted to be absurd, and desire to rid herself of an obstacleto her marriage with Arthur Rushton--seemed to me altogether strained andinapplicable. The desperation of unreasoning hate could alone haveprompted such a deed; for detection was inevitable, had, in truth, beencourted rather than attempted to be avoided. 

My reasoning made no change in the conclusions of Mr. Twyte the attorneyfor the prosecution, and I hastened home to administer such consolationto Arthur Rushton as might consist in the assurance of my firm convictionthat his beloved mother's life had not been wilfully taken away byEugénie de Tourville. I found him still painfully agitated; and themedical attendant told me it was feared by Dr. ---- that brain feverwould supervene if the utmost care was not taken to keep him as quiet andcomposed as, under the circumstances, was possible. I was, however, permitted a few minutes' conversation with him; and my reasoning, or, more correctly, my confidently-expressed belief--for his mind seemedincapable of following my argument, which it indeed grasped faintly at, but slipped from, as it were, in an instant--appeared to relieve himwonderfully. I also promised him that no legal or pecuniary assistanceshould be wanting in the endeavor to clear Mademoiselle de Tourville ofthe dreadful imputation preferred against her. I then left him. Theanticipation of the physician was unfortunately realized: the nextmorning he was in a raging fever, and his life, I was informed, was invery imminent danger. 

It was a distracting time; but I determinedly, and with much self-effort, kept down the nervous agitation which might have otherwise rendered meincapable of fulfilling the duties I had undertaken to perform. Byeleven o'clock in the forenoon I had secured the active and zealousservices of Mr. White, one of the most celebrated of the criminalattorneys of that day. By application in the proper quarter, we obtainedimmediate access to the prisoner, who was temporarily confined in aseparate room in the Red-Lion Square Lock-up House. Mademoiselle deTourville, although exceedingly pale, agitated, and nervous, still lookedas lustrously pure, as radiantly innocent of evil thought or deed, as onthe day that I first beheld her. The practiced eye of the attorneyscanned her closely. "As innocent of this charge, " he whispered, "as youor I. " I tendered my services to the unfortunate young lady with anearnestness of manner which testified more than any words could have donehow entirely my thoughts acquitted her of offence. Her looks thanked me;and when I hinted at the promise exacted of me by Arthur Rushton, abright blush for an instant mantled the pale marble of her cheeks andforehead, indicating with the tears, which suddenly filled and trembledin her beautiful eyes, a higher sentiment, I thought, than meregratitude. She gave us her unreserved confidence; by which, after carefulsifting, we obtained only the following by no means entirely satisfactoryresults:--

Mademoiselle de Tourville and her father had escaped from the Terroristsof France by the aid of, and in company with, the Chevalier la Houssaye, with whom M. De Tourville had previously had but very slightacquaintance. The chevalier soon professed a violent admiration forEugénie; and having contrived to lay M. De Tourville under heavypecuniary obligations at play--many of them Mademoiselle de Tourville hadonly very lately discovered--prevailed upon his debtor to exert hisinfluence with his daughter to accept La Houssaye's hand in marriage. After much resistance, Mademoiselle de Tourville, overcome by thecommands, entreaties, prayers of her father, consented, but only oncondition that the marriage should not take place till their return toFrance, which it was thought need not be very long delayed, and that nomore money obligations should in the meantime be incurred by her father. La Houssaye vehemently objected to delay; but finding Eugénie inexorable, sullenly acquiesced. It was precisely at this time that the engagementwith Mrs. Rushton was accepted. On the previous afternoon Mademoiselle deTourville, on leaving Harley Street after the scene with the deceasedlady, went directly home, and there found both her father and thechevalier in hot contention and excitement. As soon as La Houssaye sawher, he seized his hat, and rushed out of the apartment and house. Herfather, who was greatly excited, had barely time to say that he hadfortunately discovered the chevalier to be a married man, whose wife, awoman of property, was still living in Languedoc, when what had alwaysbeen predicted would follow any unusual agitation happened: M. DeTourville suddenly placed his hand on his side, uttered a brokenexclamation, fell into a chair, and expired. It was about two hours afterthis melancholy event that Mrs. Rushton arrived. The account before givenof the interview which followed was substantially confirmed byMademoiselle de Tourville; who added, that the cordial she had given Mrs. Rushton was one her father was in the constant habit of taking when inthe slightest degree excited, and that she was about to give him somewhen he suddenly fell dead. 

We had no doubt, none whatever, that this was the whole, literal truth, as far as the knowledge of Mademoiselle de Tourville extended; but howcould we impart that impression to an Old Bailey jury of those days, deprived as we should be of the aid of counsel to address the jury, whenin reality a speech, pointing to the improbabilities arising fromcharacter, and the altogether _un_guilty-like mode of administering thefatal liquid, was the only possible defence? Cross-examination promisednothing; for the evidence would consist of the dying deposition of Mrs. Rushton, the finding of the laurel-water, and the medical testimony as tothe cause of death. The only person upon whom suspicion glanced was LaHoussaye, and that in a vague and indistinct manner. Still, it wasnecessary to find him without delay, and Mr. White at once sought him athis lodgings, of which Mademoiselle de Tourville furnished the address. He had left the house suddenly with all his luggage early in the morning, and our efforts to trace him proved fruitless. In the meantime the_post-mortem_ examination of the body had taken place, and a verdict ofwillful murder against Eugénie de Tourville been unhesitatingly returned. She was soon afterwards committed to Newgate for trial. 

The Old Bailey session was close at hand, and Arthur Rushton, thoughimmediate danger was over, was still in too delicate and precarious astate to be informed of the true position of affairs when the final dayof trial arrived. The case had excited little public attention. It wasnot the fashion in those days to exaggerate the details of crime, and, _especially before trial_, give the wings of the morning to every factor fiction that rumor with her busy tongue obscurely whispered. Twentylines of the "Times" would contain the published record of thecommitment of Eugénie de Tourville for poisoning her mistress, CarolineRushton; and, alas! spite of the crippled but earnest efforts of theeminent counsel we had retained, and the eloquent innocence of herappearance and demeanor, her conviction and condemnation to deathwithout hope of mercy! My brain swam as the measured tones of therecorder, commanding the almost immediate and violent destruction ofthat beauteous masterpiece of God, fell upon my ear; and had not Mr. White, who saw how greatly I was affected, fairly dragged me out ofcourt into the open air, I should have fainted. I scarcely remember howI got home--in a coach, I believe; but face Rushton after that dreadfulscene with a kindly-meant deception--_lie_--in my mouth, I could not, had a king's crown been the reward. I retired to my chamber, and on theplea of indisposition directed that I should on no account be disturbed. Night had fallen, and it was growing somewhat late, when I was startledout of the painful reverie in which I was still absorbed by the suddenpulling up of a furiously-driven coach, followed by a thundering summonsat the door, similar to that which aroused me on the evening of Mrs. Rushton's death. I seized my hat, rushed down stairs, and opened thedoor. It was Mr. White!

"Well!--well!" I ejaculated. 

"Quick--quick!" he exclaimed in reply. "La Houssaye--he is found--hassent for us--quick! for life--life is on our speed!"

I was in the vehicle in an instant. In less than ten minutes we hadreached our destination--a house in Duke Street, Manchester Square. 

"He is still alive, " replied a young man in answer to Mr. White's hurriedinquiry. We rapidly ascended the stairs, and in the front apartment ofthe first floor beheld one of the saddest, mournfulest spectacles whichthe world can offer--a fine, athletic man, still in the bloom of naturalhealth and vigor, and whose pale features, but for the tracings there offierce, ungoverned passions, were strikingly handsome and intellectual, stretched by his own act upon the bed of death! It was La Houssaye! Twogentlemen were with him--one a surgeon, and the other evidently aclergyman, and, as I subsequently found, a magistrate, who had been sentfor by the surgeon. A faint smile gleamed over the face of the dying manas we entered, and he motioned feebly to a sheet of paper, which, closelywritten upon, was lying upon a table placed near the sofa upon which theunhappy suicide was reclining. Mr. White snatched, and eagerly perusedit. I could see by the vivid lighting up of his keen gray eye that itwas, in his opinion, satisfactory and sufficient. 

"This, " said Mr. White, "is your solemn deposition, knowing yourself tobe dying?"

"Yes, yes, " murmured La Houssaye; "the truth--the truth!"

"The declaration of a man, " said the clergyman with some asperity oftone, "who defyingly, unrepentingly, rushes into the presence of hisCreator, can be of little value!"

"Ha!" said the dying man, rousing himself by a strong effort;"I repent--yes--yes--I repent! I believe--do you hear?--andrepent--believe. Put that down, " he added, in tones momently feeblerand more husky, as he pointed to the paper; "put that down, or--orperhaps--Eu--génie--perhaps"--

As he spoke, the faint light that had momently kindled his glazing eyewas suddenly quenched; he remained for perhaps half a minute raised onhis elbow, and with his outstretched finger pointing towards the paper, gazing blindly upon vacancy. Then the arm dropped, and he fell back dead!

We escaped as quickly as we could from this fearful death-room, and Ifound that the deposition which Mr. White brought away with him gave afull, detailed account, written in the French language, of thecircumstances which led to the death of Mrs. Rushton. 

La Houssaye, finding that M. De Tourville had by some means discoveredthe secret of his previous marriage, and that consequently all hope ofobtaining the hand of Eugénie, whom he loved with all the passion of hisfiery nature, would be gone unless De Tourville could be prevented fromcommunicating with his daughter, resolved to compass the old man'sinstant destruction. The chevalier persuaded himself that, as he shouldmanage it, death would be attributed to the affection of the heart, fromwhich M. De Tourville had so long suffered. He procured the distilledlaurel-water--how and from whom was minutely explained--colored, flavoredit to resemble as nearly as possible the cordial which he knew M. DeTourville--and he only--was in the habit of frequently taking. Aprecisely-similar bottle he also procured--the shop at which it waspurchased was described--and when he called in King Street, he found nodifficulty, in an unobserved moment, of substituting one bottle for theother. That containing the real cordial he was still in possession of, and it would be found in his valise The unexpected arrival ofMademoiselle de Tourville frustrated his design, and he rushed in furyand dismay from the house. A few hours afterwards, he heard of the suddendeath of M. De Tourville, and attributing it to his having taken aportion of the simulated cordial, he, La Houssaye, fearful ofconsequences, hastily and secretly changed his abode. He had subsequentlykept silence till the conviction of Eugénie left him no otheralternative, if he would not see her perish on the scaffold, than a fulland unreserved confession. This done--Eugénie saved, but lost to him--hehad nothing more to live for in the world, and should leave it. 

This was the essence of the document; and all the parts of it which werecapable of corroborative proof having been substantiated, a free pardonissued from the crown--the technical mode of quashing an unjust criminalverdict--and Mademoiselle de Tourville was restored to liberty. 

She did not return to France. Something more perhaps than a year afterthe demonstration of her innocence, she was married to Arthur Rushton inthe Sardinian Catholic Chapel, London, the bridegroom having by herinfluence been induced to embrace the faith of Rome. The establishmentsin Harley Street and Mayfair were broken up; and the newly-espoused pairsettled in the county of Galway, Ireland, where Mr. Rushton madeextensive landed purchases. They have lived very happily a long life, have been blessed with a large and amiable family, and are now--for theyare both yet alive--surrounded with grandchildren innumerable. 

EXPERIENCES OF A BARRISTER. 

THE LIFE POLICY. 

Besides being the confidential advisers, attorneys are the "confessors"of modern England; and the revelations--delicate, serious, notunfrequently involving life as well as fortune and character--confided tothe purchased fidelity and professional honor of men whom romancers ofall ages have stereotyped as the ghouls and vampires of civilizedsociety, are, it is impossible to deny, as rarely divulged as those whichthe penitents of the Greek and Latin churches impart to their spiritualguides and helpers; and this possibly for the somewhat vulgar, but verysufficient reason, that "a breach of confidence" would as certainlyinvolve the professional ruin of an attorney as the commission of afelony. An able but eccentric jurisconsult, Mr. Jeremy Bentham, wasdesirous that attorneys should be compelled to disclose on oath whateverguilty secrets might be confided to them by their clients; the onlyobjection to which ingenious device for the conviction of rogues being, that if such a power existed, there would be no secrets to disclose; and, as a necessary consequence, that the imperfectly-informed attorney wouldbe unable to render his client the justice to which every person, howevercriminal, is clearly entitled--that of having his or her case presentedbefore the court appointed to decide upon it in the best and mostadvantageous manner possible. Let it not be forgotten either that theattorney is the only real, practical defender of the humble and needyagainst the illegal oppressions of the rich and powerful--the shrewd, indomitable agent who gives prosaic reality to the figurative eloquenceof old Chancellor Fortescue, when he says, "that the lightning may flashthrough, the thunder shake, the tempest beat, upon the English peasant'shut, but the king of England, with all his army, cannot lift the latch toenter in. " The chancellor of course meant, that in this countryoverbearing violence cannot defy, or put itself in the place of the law. This is quite true; and why? Chiefly because the attorney is ready, inall cases of provable illegality, with his potent strip of parchmentsummoning the great man before "her Sovereign Lady the Queen, " there toanswer for his acts; and the richer the offender, the more keen and eagerMr. Attorney to prosecute the suit, however needy his own client; for heis then sure of his costs, if he succeed! Again, I cheerfully admit theextreme vulgarity of the motive; but its effect in protecting the legalrights of the humble is not, I contend, lessened because the reward ofexertion and success is counted out in good, honest sovereigns, or notesof the Governor and Company of the Bank of England. 

Thus much by way of conciliatory prologue to the narrative of a fewincidents revealed in the attorney's privileged confessional; throughoutwhich I have of course, in order to avoid any possible recognition ofthose events or incidents, changed the name of every person concerned. 

Our old city firm, then, which, I am happy to say, still flourishesunder the able direction of our active successors, I willcall--adopting the nomenclature appropriated to us by imaginativeladies and gentlemen who favor the world with fancy pen-and-inkportraits of the lawyer tribe--that of Flint and Sharp; Sharp beingmyself, and Flint the silver-haired old bachelor we buried a few weekssince in Kensal Green Cemetery. 

"Mr. Andrews, " said a clerk as he threw open the door of the inner officeone afternoon; "Mr. Jesse Andrews. "

"Good-day, Mr. Andrews, " was my prompt and civil greeting: "I have goodnews for you. Take a chair. "

The good-humored, rather intelligent, and somewhat clouded countenance ofthe new-comer brightened up at these words. "News from my CousinArchibald?" he asked, as he seated himself. 

"Yes: He laments your late failure, and commiserates the changed positionand prospects of your wife and boy, little Archibald, his godson. You hehas not much compassion for, inasmuch as he attributes your misfortunesentirely to mismanagement, and the want of common prudence. "

"Candid, certainly, " grumbled out Mr. Jesse Andrews; "but an odd sort ofgood news!"

"His deeds are kinder than his words. He will allow, till Archibaldattains his majority--Let me see--how old is that boy of yours now?"

"Ten. He was two years old when his godfather went to India. "

"Well, then, you will receive two hundred pounds per annum, payablehalf-yearly, in advance, for the next ten years--that is, of course, ifyour son lives--in order to enable you to bring him up, and educate himproperly. After that period has elapsed, your cousin intimates that hewill place the young man advantageously, and I do not doubt will dosomething for you, should you not by that time have conquered a fairposition for yourself. "

"Is that all?" said Mr. Andrews. 

"All! Why, what did you expect?"

"Two or three thousand pounds to set me afloat again. I know of a safespeculation, that with, say three thousand pounds capital, would realizea handsome fortune in no time. "

Mr. Jesse Andrews, I may observe, was one of that numerous class ofpersons who are always on the threshold of realizing millions--the onlyand constant obstacle being the want of a sufficient "capital. "

I condoled with him upon his disappointment; but as words, however civil, avail little in the way of "capital, " Mr. Jesse Andrews, having pocketedthe first half-yearly installment of the annuity, made his exit in by nomeans a gracious or grateful frame of mind. 

Two other half-yearly payments were duly paid him. When he handed me thereceipt on the last occasion, he said, in a sort of off-hand, carelessway, "I suppose, if Archy were to die, these payments would cease?"

"Perhaps not, " I replied unthinkingly. "At all events, not, I should say, till you and your wife were in some way provided for. But your son is notill?" I added. 

"No, no; not at present, " replied Andrews, coloring, and with a confusionof manner which surprised me not a little. It flashed across my mind thatthe boy was dead, and that Andrews, in order not to risk the withdrawalor suspension of the annuity, had concealed the fact from us. 

"Let me see, " I resumed, "we have your present address--NortonFolgate, I think?"

"Yes, certainly you have. "

"I shall very likely call in a day or two to see Mrs. Andrew! andyour son. "

The man smiled in a reassured, half-sardonic manner. "Do, " he answered. "Archy is alive, and very well, thank God!"

This confidence dispelled the suspicion I had momentarily entertained, and five or six weeks passed away, during which Andrews and hisaffairs were almost as entirely absent from my thoughts as if no suchman existed. 

About the expiration of that time, Mr. Jesse Andrews unexpectedlyrevisited the office, and as soon as I was disengaged, was ushered intomy private room. He was habited in the deepest mourning, and it naturallystruck me that either his wife or son was dead--an impression, however, which a closer examination of his countenance did not confirm, knowing asI did, how affectionate a husband and father he was, with all his faultsand follies, reputed to be. He looked flurried, nervous, certainly; butthere was no grief, no sorrow in the restless, disturbed glances which hedirected to the floor, the ceiling, the window, the fire-place, thechairs, the table--everywhere, in fact, except towards my face. 

"What is the matter, Mr. Andrews?" I gravely inquired, seeing that he didnot appear disposed to open the conversation. 

"A great calamity, sir--a great calamity, " he hurriedly and confusedlyanswered, his face still persistently averted from me--"has happened!Archy is dead!"

"Dead!" I exclaimed, considerably shocked. "God bless me! when didthis happen?"

"Three weeks ago, " was the reply. "He died of cholera. "

"Of cholera!" This occurred, I should state, in 1830. 

"Yes: he was very assiduously attended throughout his sufferings, which were protracted and severe, by the eminent Dr. Parkinson, ahighly-respectable and skilled practitioner, as you doubtless, sir, are aware. "

I could not comprehend the man. This dry, unconcerned, business-sort ofgabble was not the language of a suddenly-bereaved parent, and one, too, who had lost a considerable annuity by his son's death. What could itmean? I was in truth fairly puzzled. 

After a considerable interval of silence, which Mr. Andrews, whose eyescontinued to wander in every direction except that of mine, showed noinclination to break, I said--"It will be necessary for me to writeimmediately to your cousin, Mr. Archibald Andrews. I trust, for yoursake, the annuity will be continued; but of course, till I hear from him, the half-yearly payments must be suspended. "

"Certainly, certainly: I naturally expected that would be the case, " saidAndrews, still in the same quick, hurried tone. "Quite so. "

"You have nothing further to say, I suppose?" I remarked, after anotherdead pause, during which it was very apparent that he was laboring withsomething to which he nervously hesitated to give utterance. 

"No--yes--that is, I wished to consult you upon a matter ofbusiness--connected with--with a life-assurance office. "

"A life-assurance office?"

"Yes. " The man's pale face flushed crimson, and his speech becamemore and more hurried as he went on. "Yes; fearing, Mr. Sharp, thatshould Archy die, we might be left without resource, I resolved, after mature deliberation, to effect an insurance on his life forfour thousand pounds. "

"Four thousand pounds!"

"Yes. All necessary preliminaries were gone through. The medicalgentleman--since dead of the cholera, by the way--examined the boy ofcourse, and the insurance was legally effected for four thousand pounds, payable at his death. "

I did not speak; a suspicion too horrible to be hinted at held me dumb. 

"Unfortunately, " Andrews continued, "this insurance was only effectedabout a fortnight before poor Archy's death, and the office refusespayment, although, as I have told you, the lad was attended to the veryhour of his death by Dr. Parkinson, a highly-respectable, mostunexceptionable gentleman. Very much so indeed. "

"I quite agree in that, " I answered after a while. "Dr. Parkinson is ahighly-respectable and eminent man. What reason, " I added, "do thecompany assign for non-payment?"

"The very recent completion of the policy. "

"Nonsense! How can that fact, standing alone, affect your claim?"

"I do not know, " Andrews replied; and all this time I had not been ableto look fairly in his face; "but they do refuse; and I am anxious thatyour firm should take the matter in hand, and sue them for the amount. "

"I must first see Dr. Parkinson, " I answered, "and convince myself thatthere is no legitimate reason for repudiating the policy. "

"Certainly, certainly, " he replied. 

"I will write to you to-morrow, " I said, rising to terminate theconference, "after I have seen Dr. Parkinson, and state whether we willor not take proceedings against the insurance company on your behalf. "

He thanked me, and hurried off. 

Dr. Parkinson confirmed Mr. Jesse Andrews in every particular. He hadattended the boy, a fine, light-haired lad of eleven or twelve years ofage, from not long after his seizure till his death. He suffereddreadfully, and died unmistakably of Asiatic cholera, and of nothingelse; of which same disease a servant and a female lodger in the samehouse had died just previously. "It is of course, " Dr. Parkinson remarkedin conclusion, "as unfortunate for the company as it is strangely luckyfor Andrews; but there is no valid reason for refusing payment. "

Upon this representation we wrote the next day to the assurance people, threatening proceedings on behalf of Mr. Jesse Andrews. 

Early on the morrow one of the managing-directors called on us, to statethe reasons which induced the company to hesitate at recognizing theplaintiff's claim. In addition to the doubts suggested by the brief timewhich had elapsed from the date of the policy to the death of the child, there were several other slight circumstances of corroborative suspicion. The chief of these was, that a neighbor had declared he heard the fatherindulging in obstreperous mirth in a room adjoining that in which thecorpse lay only about two hours after his son had expired. This unseemly, scandalous hilarity of her husband, the wife appeared to faintlyremonstrate against. The directors had consequently resolved _nonobstante_ Dr. Parkinson's declaration, who might, they argued, have beendeceived, to have the body exhumed in order to a post-mortem examinationas to the true cause of death. If the parents voluntarily agreed to thiscourse, a judicial application to enforce it would be unnecessary, andall doubts on the matter could be quietly set at rest. I thought theproposal, under the circumstances, reasonable, and called on Mr. And Mrs. Andrews to obtain their concurrence. Mrs. Andrews was, I found, absentin the country, but her husband was at home; and he, on hearing theproposal, was, I thought, a good deal startled--shocked rather--a naturalemotion perhaps. 

"Who--who, " he said, after a few moments' silent reflection--"who is toconduct this painful, revolting inquiry?"

"Dr. Parkinson will be present, with Mr. Humphrey the surgeon, and Dr. Curtis the newly-appointed physician to the assurance office, in place ofDr. Morgan who died, as you are aware, a short time since of cholera. "

"True. Ah, well, then, " he answered almost with alacrity, "be it as theywish. Dr. Parkinson will see fair-play. "

The examination was effected, and the result was a confirmation, beyonddoubt or quibble, that death, as Dr. Parkinson had declared, had beensolely occasioned by cholera. The assurance company still hesitated; butas this conduct could now only be looked upon as perverse obstinacy, weserved them with a writ at once. They gave in; and the money was handedover to Mr. Jesse Andrews, whose joy at his sudden riches did not, I wasforced to admit, appear to be in the slightest degree damped by anyfeeling of sadness for the loss of an only child. 

We wrote to inform Mr. Archibald Andrews of these occurrences, and torequest further instructions with regard to the annuity hitherto paid tohis cousin. A considerable time would necessarily elapse before ananswer could be received, and in the meantime Mr. Jesse Andrews plungedheadlong into the speculation he had been long hankering to engage in, and was as he informed me a few weeks afterwards, on the royal road to amagnificent fortune. 

Clouds soon gathered over this brilliant prospect. The partner, whosepersuasive tongue and brilliant imagination had induced Mr. Andrews tojoin him with his four thousand pounds, proved to be an arrant cheat andswindler; and Mr. Andrews's application to us for legal help and redresswas just too late to prevent the accomplished dealer in moonshine anddelusion from embarking at Liverpool for America, with every penny of thepartnership funds in his pockets!

A favorable reply from Mr. Archibald Andrews had now become a question ofvital importance to his cousin, who very impatiently awaited its arrival. It came at last. Mr. Andrews had died rather suddenly at Bombay a shorttime before my letter arrived there, after executing in triplicate awill, of which one of the copies was forwarded to me. By this instrumenthis property--about thirty-five thousand pounds, the greatest portion ofwhich had been remitted from time to time for investment in the Britishfunds--was disposed of as follows:--Five thousand pounds to his cousinJesse Andrews, for the purpose of educating and maintaining ArchibaldAndrews, the testator's godson, till he should have attained the age oftwentyone, and the whole of the remaining thirty thousand pounds to bethen paid over to Archibald with accumulated interest. In the event, however, of the death of his godson, the entire property was devised toanother more distant and wealthier cousin, Mr. Newton, and his sonCharles, on precisely similar conditions, with the exception that anannuity of seventy pounds, payable to Jesse Andrews and his wife duringtheir lives, was charged upon it. 

Two letters were dispatched the same evening--one to the fortunatecousin, Mr. Newton, who lived within what was then known as the twopennypost delivery, and another to Mr. Jesse Andrews, who had taken up histemporary abode in a cottage near St. Alban's, Hertfordshire. Thesemissives informed both gentlemen of the arrival of the Indian mail, andthe, to them, important dispatches it contained. 

Mr. Newton was early at the office on the following morning, and perusedthe will with huge content. He was really quite sorry, though, for poorCousin Jesse: the loss of his son was a sad stroke, much worse than thisof a fortune which he might have expected to follow as a matter ofcourse. And the annuity, Mr. Newton thoughtfully observed, was, afterall, no contemptible provision for two persons, without family, and ofmodest requirements. 

A very different scene was enacted when, late in the evening, and just asI was about to leave the office, Mr. Jesse Andrews rushed in, white as asheet, haggard, and wild with passion. "What devil's fables are these youwrite me?" he, burst forth the instant he had gained the threshold of theroom. "How dare you, " he went on, almost shrieking with fury--"how dareyou attempt to palm off these accursed lies on me? Archy rich--rich--andI--. But it is a lie!--an infernal device got up to torture me--todrive me wild, distracted--mad!" The excited man literally foamed withrage, and so astonished was I, that it was a minute or two before I couldspeak or move. 

At last I rose, closed the door, (for the clerks in the outer office werehearers and witnesses of this outbreak, ) and led the way to an inner andmore private apartment. "Come with me, Mr. Andrews, " I said, "and let ustalk this matter calmly over. "

He mechanically followed, threw himself into a chair, and listened withfrenzied impatience to the reading of the will. 

"A curse is upon me, " he shouted, jumping up as I concluded, "the curseof God--a judgment upon the crime I but the other day committed--a crimeas I thought--dolt, idiot that I was--so cunningly contrived, so cleverlyexecuted! Fool, villain, madman that I have been; for now, when fortuneis tendered for my acceptance, I dare not put forth my hand to grasp it;fortune, too, not only for me, but--. O God, it will kill us both, Marthaas well as me, though I alone am to blame for this infernal chance!"

This outburst appeared to relieve him, and he sank back into his chairsomewhat calmer. I could understand nothing of all that rhapsody, knowing, as I did, that his son Archibald had died from natural causes. "It _is_ a severe blow, " I said, in as soothing a tone as I couldassume--"a very great disappointment; still, you are secured from extremepoverty--from anything like absolute want"--

"It is not that--it is not that!" he broke in, though not quite so wildlyas before. "Look you, Mr. Sharp, I will tell you all! There may be somemode of extrication from this terrible predicament, and I must have youradvice professionally upon it. "

"Go on; I will advise you to the best of my ability. "

"Here it is, then: Archy, my son Archy, is alive!--alive! and well inhealth as either you or I!"

I was thunderstruck. Here was indeed a revelation. 

"Alive and well, " continued Andrews. "Listen! when the cholera began tospread so rapidly, I bethought me of insuring the boy's life in case ofthe worst befalling, but not, as I hope for mercy, with the slightestthought of harming a hair of his head. This was done. Very soon theterrific disease approached our neighborhood, and my wife took Archy to acountry lodging, returning herself the same evening. The next day ouronly servant was attacked and died. A few hours after that ourfirst-floor lodger, a widow of the name of Mason, who had been with usbut a very short time, was attacked. She suffered dreadfully; and herson, a boy about the age of Archy, and with just his hair andcomplexion, took ill also. The woman was delirious with pain; and beforeeffective medical aid could be obtained--she was seized in the middle ofthe night--she expired. Her son who had been removed into another room, became rapidly worse, and we sent for Dr. Parkinson; the poor fellow waspartially delirious with pain, and clung piteously round my wife's neck, calling her mother, and imploring her to relieve him. Dr. Parkinsonarrived, and at first sight of the boy, said, 'Your son is very ill, Mrs. Andrews--I fear, past recovery; but we will see what can be done. ' Iswear to you, Mr. Sharp, that it was not till this moment the devicewhich has ruined us, flashed across my brain. I cautioned my wife in awhisper not to undeceive the doctor, who prescribed the most activeremedies, and was in the room, when the lad died. You know the rest. Andnow, sir, tell me, can anything be done--any device suggested to retrievethis miserable blunder, this terrible mistake?"

"This infamous crime, you should say, Mr. Andrews, " I replied; "for thecommission of which you are liable to be transported for life. "

"Yes, crime; no doubt that is the true word! But must the innocent childsuffer for his father's offence?"

"That is the only consideration that could induce me to wag a finger inthe business. Like many other clever rogues, you are caught in the trapyou limed for others. Come to me tomorrow; I will think over the matterbetween this and then; but at present I can say nothing. Stay, " I added, as his hand was on the door; "the identity of your son can be proved, Isuppose, by better evidence than your own?"

"Certainly, certainly. "

"That, will do, then; I will see you in the morning. "

If it should cross the mind of any reader that I ought to have giventhis self-confessed felon into custody, I beg to remind him that, for thereasons previously stated, such a course on my part was out of thequestion--impossible; and that, had it not been impossible I should doso, Mr. Jesse Andrews would not have intrusted me with his criminalsecret. The only question now therefore was, how, without compromisingthis guilty client, the godfather's legacy could be secured for theinnocent son. 

A conference the next morning with Mr. Flint resulted in our sending forMr. Jesse Andrews, and advising him, for fear of accidents ormiscarriage in our plans, to betake himself to the kingdom of France fora short time. We had then no treaty of extradition with that country. Assoon as I knew he was safely out of the realm, I waited upon theinsurance people. 

"The money ought not to have been received by Jesse Andrews, you say, Mr. Sharp?" observed the managing-gentleman, looking keenly in my face. 

"Precisely. It ought not to have been received by him. "

"And _why_ not, Mr. Sharp?"

"That is quite an unnecessary question, and one that, you know, I shouldnot answer, if I could. That which chiefly concerns you is, that I amready to return the four thousand pounds at once, here on the spot, andthat delays are dangerous. If you refuse, why, of course--and I rose frommy chair--I must take back the money. "

"Stay--stay! I will just consult with one or two gentlemen, and be withyou again almost immediately. "

In about five minutes he returned. "Well, Mr. Sharp, " he said, "we had, I suppose; better take the money--obtained, as you say, by mistake. "

"Not at all; I said nothing about mistake. I told you it ought not tohave been received by Andrews!"

"Well--well. I understand. I must, I suppose, give you a receipt?"

"Undoubtedly; and, if you please, precisely in this form. "

I handed him a copy on a slip of paper. He ran it over, smiled, transcribed it on a stamp, signed it, and, as I handed him a check forthe amount, placed it in my hands. We mutually bowed, and I went my way. 

Notwithstanding Mr. Newton's opposition, who was naturally furious at theunexpected turn the affair had taken, the identity of the boy--whom thatgentleman persisted in asserting to be dead and buried--was clearlyestablished; and Mr. Archibald Andrews, on the day he became of age, received possession of his fortune. The four thousand pounds had ofcourse been repaid out of Jesse Andrews's legacy. That person has, so tospeak, since skulked through life, a mark for the covert scorn of everyperson acquainted with the very black transaction here recorded. This wasdoubtless a much better fate than he deserved; and in strict, or poeticaljustice, his punishment ought unquestionably to have been muchgreater--more apparent also, than it was, for example's sake. But I am aman not of fiction, but of fact, and consequently relate events, not asthey precisely ought, but as they do, occasionally occur in lawyers'offices, and other unpoetical nooks and corners of this prosaic, matter-of-fact, working-day world. 

BIGAMY OR NO BIGAMY?

The firm of Flint and Sharp enjoyed, whether deservedly or not, when Iwas connected with it, as it still does, a high reputation for keenpractice and shrewd business-management. This kind of professional fameis usually far more profitable than the drum-and-trumpet variety of thesame article; or at least we found it so; and often, from blush of mornto far later than dewy eve--which natural phenomena, by the way, wereonly emblematically observed by me during thirty busy years in theextinguishment of the street lamps at dawn, and their re-illumination atdusk--did I and my partner incessantly pursue our golden avocations;deferring what are usually esteemed the pleasures of life--its banquets, music, flowers, and lettered ease--till the toil, and heat, and hurry ofthe day were past, and a calm, luminous evening, unclouded by care oranxiety, had arrived. This conduct may or may not have been wise; but atall events it daily increased the connection and transactions of thefirm, and ultimately anchored us both very comfortably in the three percents; and this too, I am bold to say, not without our having effectedsome good in our generation. This boast of mine the following passage inthe life of a distinguished client--known, I am quite sure, by reputationto most of the readers of these papers, whom our character for practicalsagacity and professional shrewdness brought us--will, I think, beadmitted in some degree to substantiate. 

Our connection was a mercantile rather than an aristocratic one, and mysurprise was therefore considerable, when, on looking through theoffice-blinds to ascertain what vehicle it was that had driven so rapidlyup to the door, I observed a handsomely-appointed carriage with a coronetemblazoned on the panels, out of which a tall footman was handing a ladyattired in deep but elegant mourning, and closely veiled. I instantlywithdrew to my private room, and desired that the lady should beimmediately admitted. Greatly was my surprise increased when the gracefuland still youthful visitor withdrew her veil, and disclosed the featuresof the Countess of Seyton, upon whose mild, luminous beauty, as renderedby the engraving from Sir Thomas Lawrence's picture, I had so frequentlygazed with admiration. That rare and touching beauty was clouded now; andan intense expression of anxiety, fear--almost terror--gleamed from outthe troubled depths of her fine dark eyes. 

"The Countess of Seyton!" I half-involuntarily exclaimed, as with my verybest bow I handed her ladyship a chair. 

"Yes; and you are a partner of this celebrated firm, are you not?"

I bowed again still more profoundly to this compliment, and modestlyadmitted that I was the Sharp of the firm her ladyship was pleased toentitle "celebrated. "

"Then, Mr. Sharp, I have to consult you professionally upon a matter ofthe utmost--the most vital importance to me and mine. " Her ladyship then, with some confusion of manner, as if she did not know whether what shewas doing was in accordance with strict etiquette or not, placed a Bankof England note, by way of retainer, before me. I put it back, explainingwhat the usage really was, and the countess replaced it in her purse. 

"We shall he proud to render your ladyship any assistance in our power, "I said; "but I understood the Messrs. Jackson enjoyed the confidence ofthe house of Seyton?"

"Precisely. They are, so to speak, the hereditary solicitors of thefamily more than of any individual member of it; and therefore, thoughhighly respectable persons, unfit to advise me in this particular matter. Besides, " she added with increasing tremor and hesitation, "to deal with, and if possible foil, the individual by whom I am persecuted, requires anagent of keener sagacity than either of those gentlemen can boast of;sharper, more resolute men; more--you understand what I mean?"

"Perfectly, madam; and allow me to suggest that it is probable ourinterview may be a somewhat prolonged one--your ladyship's carriage, which may attract attention, should be at once dismissed. The office ofthe family solicitors is, you are aware, not far off; and as we could notexplain to them the reason which induces your ladyship to honor us withyour confidence, it will be as well to avoid any chance of inquiry. "

Lady Seyton acquiesced in my suggestion: the carriage was ordered home, and Mr. Flint entering just at the time, we both listened withearnestness and anxiety to her communication. It is needless to repeatverbatim the somewhat prolix, exclamative narration of the countess; theessential facts were as follows:--

The Countess of Seyton, previous to her first marriage, was Miss ClaraHayley, second daughter of the Reverend John Hayley, the rector of aparish in Devonshire. She married, when only nineteen years of age, aCaptain Gosford. Her husband was ten years older than herself, and, asshe discovered after marriage, was cursed with a morose and churlishtemper and disposition. Previous to her acquaintance with Gosford, shehad been intimate with, almost betrothed to, Mr. Arthur Kingston, a younggentleman connected with the peerage, and at that time heir-apparent tothe great expectancies and actual poverty of his father, Sir ArthurKingston. The haughty baronet, the instant he was made aware of thenature of his son's intimacy with the rector's daughter, packed the youngman off to the continent on his travels. The Reverend John Hayley and hisbeautiful Clara were as proud as the baronet, and extremely indignantthat it should be thought either of them wished to entrap or deludeArthur Kingston into an unequal or ineligible marriage. This feeling ofpride and resentment aided the success of Mr. Gosford's suit, and ClaraHayley, like many other rash, high-notioned young ladies, doomed herselfto misery, in order to show the world, and Mr. Arthur Kingston and hisproud father especially, that she had a spirit. The union was a mostunhappy one. One child only, which died in its infancy, was born to them;and after being united somewhat more than two years, a separation, vehemently insisted on by the wife's father, took place, and theunhappily-wedded daughter returned to her parent's roof. Mr. Gosford--hehad some time before sold out of the army--traveled about the country insearch of amusement, and latterly of health, (for his unhappy cankeroustemper at last affected and broke down his never very robust physicalconstitution), accompanied for the twelvemonth preceding his death by ayoung man belonging to the medical profession, of the name of Chilton. Mr. And Mrs. Gosford had been separated a few days less than three yearswhen the husband died, at the village of Swords in Ireland, and not fardistant from Dublin. The intelligence was first conveyed to the widow bya paragraph in the "Freeman's Journal, " a Dublin newspaper; and by thefollowing post a letter arrived from Mr. Chilton, inclosing a ring whichthe deceased had requested should be sent to his wife, and a note, dictated just previous to his death-hour, in which he expressed regretfor the past, and admitted that he alone had been to blame for theunhappy separation. A copy of his will, made nearly a twelvemonthpreviously, was also forwarded, by which he bequeathed his property, amounting to about three hundred pounds per annum, to a distant relativethen residing in New Holland. By a memorandum of a subsequent date, Mr. Chilton was to have all the money and other personals he might die inactual possession of, after defraying the necessary funeral expenses. This will, Mr. Chilton stated, the deceased gentleman had expressed awish in his last moments to alter, but death had been too sudden for himto be able to give effect to that good, but too long-delayed intention. 

It cannot be supposed that the long-before practically widowed wifegrieved much at the final breaking of the chain which bound her to soungenial a mate; but as Lady Seyton was entirely silent upon the subject, our supposition can only rest upon the fact, that Arthur Kingston--whohad some time previously, in consequence of the death of the Earl ofSeyton and his only son, an always-weakly child, preceded a few months bythat of his own father, the baronet, succeeded to the earldom andestates--hastened home, on seeing the announcement of Gosford's death inthe Dublin paper, from the continent, where he had continued to residesince his compelled-departure six years before; and soon afterwards foundhis way into Devonshire, and so successfully pressed the renewed offer ofhis hand, that the wedding took place slightly within six months afterthe decease of Mr. Gosford. Life passed brilliantly and happily with theearl and countess--to whom three children (a boy and two girls) wereborn--till about five months previous to the present time, when the earl, from being caught, when out riding, in a drenching shower of rain, wasattacked by fever, and after an acute illness of only two or three days'duration, expired. The present earl was at the time just turned of fiveyears of age. 

This blow, we comprehended from the sudden tears which filled thebeautiful eyes of the countess as she spoke of the earl's decease, was asevere one. Still, the grief of widowhood must have been greatly assuagedby love for her children, and not inconsiderably, after a while, we maybe sure, by the brilliant position in which she was left--as, in additionto being splendidly jointured, she was appointed by her husband's willsole guardian of the young lord, her son. 

A terrible reverse awaited her. She was sitting with her father therector, and her still unmarried sister, Jane Hayley, in the drawing-roomof Seyton House, when a note was brought to her, signed Edward Chilton, the writer of which demanded an immediate and private interview, on, healleged, the most important business. Lady Seyton remembered the name, and immediately acceded to the man's request. He announced in a brusque, insolent tone and manner, that Mr. Gosford had not died at the time hisdeath was announced to her, having then only fallen into a state ofsyncope, from which he had unexpectedly recovered, and had lived sixmonths longer. "The truth is, " added Chilton, "that, chancing the otherday to be looking over a 'peerage, ' I noticed for the first time the dateof your marriage with the late Earl of Seyton, and I have now to informyou that it took place precisely eight days previous to Mr. Gosford'sdeath; that it was consequently no marriage at all; and that your son isno more Earl of Seyton than I am. "

This dreadful announcement, as one might expect, completely overcame thecountess. She fainted, but not till she had heard and comprehendedChilton's hurried injunctions to secrecy and silence. He rang the bellfor assistance, and then left the house. The mental agony of Lady Seytonon recovering consciousness was terrible, and she with great difficultysucceeded in concealing its cause from her anxious and wonderingrelatives. Another interview with Chilton appeared to confirm the truthof his story beyond doubt or question. He produced a formally-drawn-updocument, signed by one Pierce Cunningham, grave-digger of Swords, whichset forth that Charles Gosford was buried on the 26th of June, 1832, andthat the inscription on his tombstone set forth that he had died June 23dof that year. Also a written averment of Patrick Mullins of Dublin, thathe had lettered the stone at the head of the grave of Charles Gosford inSwords burying-ground in 1832, and that its date was, as stated by PierceCunningham, June 23, 1832. 

"Have you copies of those documents?" asked Mr. Flint. 

"Yes: I have brought them with me, " the countess replied, and handed themto Mr. Flint. "In my terror and extremity, " continued her ladyship, "andunguided by counsel--for, till now I have not dared to speak upon thesubject to any person--I have given this Chilton, at various times, largesums of money--but he is insatiable; and only yesterday--I cannotrepeat his audacious proposal--you will find it in this note. "

"Marriage!" exclaimed Mr. Flint with a burst. He had read the note overmy shoulder. "The scoundrel!"

My worthy partner was rather excited. The truth was he had a Clara ofhis own at home--a dead sister's child--very pretty, just aboutmarriageable, and a good deal resembling, as he told me afterwards, ournew and interesting client. 

"I would die a thousand deaths rather, " resumed Lady Seyton, in a low, tremulous voice, as she let fall her veil. "Can there, " she added in astill fainter voice, "be anything done--anything"--

"That depends entirely, " interrupted Mr. Flint, "upon whether this finestory is or is not a fabrication, got up for the purpose of extortingmoney. It seems to me, I must say, amazingly like one. "

"Do you really think so?" exclaimed the lady with joyful vehemence. Thenotion that Chilton was perhaps imposing on her credulity and fearsseemed not to have struck her before. 

"What do you think, Sharp?" said my partner. 

I hesitated to give an opinion, as I did not share in the hopeentertained by Flint. Detection was so certain, that I doubted if socunning a person as Chilton appeared to be would have ventured on a fraudso severely punishable. "Suppose, " I said, avoiding an answer, "as thisnote appoints an interview at three o'clock to-day at Seyton House, wemeet him there instead of your ladyship? A little talk with the fellowmight be serviceable. "

Lady Seyton eagerly agreed to this proposal; and it was arranged that weshould be at Seyton House half an hour before the appointed time, inreadiness for the gentleman. Lady Seyton left in a hackney-coach, somewhat relieved, I thought, by having confided the oppressive secret tous, and with a nascent hope slightly flushing her pale, dejectedcountenance. 

The firm of Flint and Sharp had then a long conference together, duringwhich the lady's statement and Mr. Chilton's documents were, the readermay be sure, very minutely conned over, analyzed, and commented upon. Finally, it was resolved that, if the approaching interview, the mannerof which we agreed upon, did not prove satisfactory, Mr. Flint shouldimmediately proceed to Ireland, and personally ascertain the truth orfalsehood of the facts alleged by Chilton. 

"Mr. Chilton is announced, " said Lady Seyton, hurriedly entering thelibrary in Grosvenor Square, where Mr. Flint and myself were seated. "Ineed not be present, I think you said?" she added, in great tremor. 

"Certainly not, madam, " I replied. "We shall do better alone. "

She retired instantly. Flint rose and stationed himself close by thedoor. Presently a sounding, confident step was heard along the passage, the library door swung back on its noiseless hinges, and in stalked a manof apparently about thirty-five years of age, tall, genteel, andsoldier-looking. He started back on seeing me, recognizing, I perceived, my vocation, at a glance. 

"How is this?" he exclaimed. "I expected"--

"The Countess of Seyton. True; but her ladyship has deputed me to conferwith you on the business mentioned in your note. "

"I shall have nothing to say to you, " he replied abruptly, and turnedto leave the room. Mr. Flint had shut, and was standing with his backto the door. 

"You can't go, " he said, in his coolest manner. "The police arewithin call. "

"The police! What the devil do you mean?" cried Chilton, angrily; but, spite of his assurance, visibly trembling beneath Flint's searching, half-sneering look. 

"Nothing very remarkable, " replied that gentleman, "or unusual in ourprofession. Come, sit down; we are lawyers; you are a man of business, weknow. I dare say we shall soon understand each other. "

Mr. Chilton sat down, and moodily awaited what was next to come. 

"You are aware, " said Mr. Flint, "that you have rendered yourself liableto transportation?"

"What"' exclaimed Chilton, flashing crimson, and starting to hisfeet. "What!"

"To transportation, " continued my imperturbable partner, "for seven, ten, fourteen years, or for life, at the discretion of the judge; but, considering the frequency of the crime of late, I should say there is astrong probability that _you_ will be a _lifer_!"

"What devil's gibberish is this?" exclaimed Chilton, frightened, butstill fierce. "I can prove everything I have said. Mr. Gosford, Itell you"--

"Well, well, " interrupted Mr. Flint; "put it in that light, how youplease; turn it which way you will; it's like the key in Blue Beard, which, I dare say, you have read of; rub it out on one side, and up itcomes on the other. Say, by way of argument, that you have _not_ obtainedmoney by unfounded threats--a crime which the law holds tantamount tohighway robbery. You have in that case obtained money for compromising afelony--that of polygamy. An awful position, my good sir, choose whichyou will. "

Utterly chop-fallen was the lately triumphant man; but he speedilyrallied. 

"I care not, " he at length said. "Punish me you may; but the pride ofthis sham countess and the sham earl will be brought low. And I tell youonce for all, " he added, rising at the same time, and speaking inringing, wrathful tones, "that I defy you, and will either be handsomelyremunerated for silence, or I will at once inform the Honorable JamesKingston that he is the true Earl of Seyton. "

"And I tell _you_, " retorted Flint, "that if you attempt to leave thisroom, I will give you into custody at once, and transport you, whatevermay be the consequence to others. Come, come, let us have no morenonsense or bluster. We have strong reasons for believing that the storyby which you have been extorting money, is a fabrication. If it be so, rely upon it we shall detect and punish you. Your only safe course is tomake a clean breast of it whilst there is yet time. Out with it, man, atonce, and you shall go Scot-free; nay, have a few score pounds more--saya hundred. Be wise in time, I counsel you. "

Chilton hesitated; his white lips quivered. There _was_ somethingto reveal. 

"I cannot, " he muttered, after a considerable pause. "There is nothing todisclose. "

"You will not! Then your fate be on your own head. I have done with you. "

It was now my turn. "Come, come, " I said, "it is useless urging thisman further. How much do you expect? The insolent proposal containedin your note is, you well know, out of the question. How much _money_do you expect for keeping this wretched affair secret? State yourterms at once. "

"A thousand per annum, " was the reply, "and the first year down. "

"Modest, upon my word! But I suppose we must comply. " I wrote out anagreement. "Will you sign this?"

He ran it over. "Yes; Lady Seyton, as she calls herself, will take careit never sees the light. "

I withdrew, and in two or three minutes returned with a check. "Herladyship has no present cash at the bankers, " I said, "and is obliged topost-date this check twelve days. "

The rascal grumbled a good deal; but as there was no help for it, he tookthe security, signed the agreement, and walked off. 

"A sweet nut that for the devil to crack, " observed Mr. Flint, lookingsavagely after him. "I am in hopes we shall trounce him yet, bravely ashe carries it. The check of course is not payable to order or bearer"

"Certainly not; and before twelve days are past, you will have returnedfrom Ireland. The agreement may be, I thought, of use with Cunningham orMullins. If they have been conspiring together, they will scarcely admirethe light in which you can place the arrangement, as affording proof thathe means to keep the lion's share of the reward to himself. "

"Exactly. At all events we shall get at the truth, whatever it be. "

The same evening Mr. Flint started for Dublin _viâ_ Holyhead. 

I received in due course a letter from him dated the day after hisarrival there. It was anything but a satisfactory one. The date on thegrave-stone had been truly represented, and Mullins who erected it was ahighly respectable man. Flint had also seen the grave-digger, but couldmake nothing out of him. There was no regular register of deaths kept inSwords except that belonging to Cunningham; and the minister who buriedGosford, and who lived at that time in Dublin, had been dead some time. This was disheartening and melancholy enough; and, as if to give ourunfortunate client the _coup-de-grace_, Mr. Jackson, junior, marched intothe office just after I had read it, to say that, having been referred byLady Seyton to us for explanations, with respect to a statement made by aMr. Edward Chilton to the Honorable James Kingston, for whom they, theMessrs. Jackson, were now acting, by which it appeared that the saidHonorable James Kingston was, in fact, the true Earl of Seyton, he, Mr. Jackson, junior, would be happy to hear what I had to say upon thesubject! It needed but this. Chilton had, as I feared he would, afterfinding we had been consulted, sold his secret, doubtless advantageously, to the heir-at-law. There was still, however, a chance that somethingfavorable might turn up, and, as I had no notion of throwing that chanceaway, I carelessly replied that we had reason to believe Chilton's storywas a malicious fabrication, and that we should of course throw on themthe onus of judicial proof that Gosford was still alive when the lateearl's marriage was solemnized. Finally, however, to please Mr. Jackson, who professed to be very anxious, for the lady's sake, to avoidunnecessary éclat, and to arrange the affair as quietly as possible, Iagreed to meet him at Lady Seyton's in four days from that time, and hearthe evidence upon which he relied. This could not at all events renderour position worse; and it was, meanwhile, agreed that the matter shouldbe kept as far as possible profoundly secret. 

Three days passed without any further tidings from Mr. Flint, and Ivehemently feared that his journey had proved a fruitless one, when, onthe evening previous to the day appointed for the conference at SeytonHouse, a hackney-coach drove rapidly up to the office door, and outpopped Mr. Flint, followed by two strangers, whom he very watchfullyescorted into the house. 

"Mr. Patrick Mullins and Mr. Pierce Cunningham, " said Flint as he shookhands with me in a way which, in conjunction with the merry sparkle ofhis eyes, and the boisterous tone of his voice, assured me all was right. "Mr. Pierce Cunningham will sleep here to-night, " he added; "so Collinshad better engage a bed out. "

Cunningham, an ill-looking lout of a fellow, muttered, that he chose "tosleep at a tavern. "

"Not if I know it, my fine fellow, " rejoined Mr. Flint. "You mean well, Idare say; but I cannot lose sight of you for all that. You either sleephere or at a station-house. "

The man stared with surprise and alarm; but knowing refusal or resistanceto be hopeless, sullenly assented to the arrangement, and withdrew to theroom appointed for him, vigilantly guarded. For Mr. Mullins we engaged abed at a neighboring tavern. 

Mr. Flint's mission had been skillfully and successfully accomplished. Hewas convinced, by the sullen confusion of manner manifested byCunningham, that some villainous agency had been at work, and he againwaited on Mullins, the stone-cutter. "Who gave you the order for thegrave-stone?" he asked. Mr. Mullins referred to his book, and answeredthat he received it by letter. "Had he got that letter?" "Very likely, "he replied, "as he seldom destroyed business papers of any kind. " "Asearch was instituted, and finally this letter, " said Mr. Flint, "worthan earl's coronet, torn and dirty as it is, turned up. " This invaluabledocument, which bore the London postdate of June 23, 1832, ran asfollows:--

"Anglesea Hotel, Haymarket, London, _June_ 23, 1832. 

"Sir--Please to erect a plain tomb-stone at the head of CharlesGosford, Esquire's grave, who died a few month's since at Swords, agedthirty-two years. This is all that need be inscribed upon it. You arereferred to Mr. Guinness of Sackville Street, Dublin, for payment. Yourobedient servant, "Edward Chilton. "

"You see, " continued Flint, "the fellow had inadvertently left out thedate of Gosford's death, merely stating it occurred a few monthspreviously; and Mullins concluded that, in entering the order in hisday-book, he must have somehow or other confounded the date of the letterwith that of Gosford's decease. Armed with this precious discovery, Iagain sought Cunningham, and by dint of promises and threats, at last gotthe truth out of the rascal. It was this:--Chilton, who returned to thiscountry from the Cape, where he had resided for three years previously, about two months ago, having some business to settle in Dublin, went overthere, and one day visited Swords, read the inscription on CharlesGosford's grave-stone, and immediately sought out the grave-digger, andasked him if he had any record of that gentleman's burial. Cunninghamsaid he had, and produced his book, by which it appeared that it tookplace December 24, 1831. "That cannot be, " remarked Chilton, and hereferred to the head-stone. Cunningham said he had noticed the mistake afew days after it was erected; but thinking it of no consequence, andnever having, that he knew of, seen Mr. Mullins since, he had said, andindeed thought, nothing about it. To conclude the story--Chiltonultimately, by payment of ten pounds down, and liberal promises for thefuture, prevailed upon the grave-digger to lend himself to the infamousdevice the sight of the grave-stone had suggested to his fertile, unscrupulous brain. "

This was indeed a glorious success and the firm of Flint and Sharp drankthe Countess of Seyton's health that evening with great enthusiasm, andgleefully "thought of the morrow. "

We found the drawing-room of Seyton House occupied by the Honorable JamesKingston, his solicitors, the Messrs. Jackson, Lady Seyton, and herfather and sister, to whom she had at length disclosed the source of herdisquietude. The children were leaving the apartment as we entered it, and the grief-dimmed eyes of the countess rested sadly upon herbright-eyed boy as he slowly withdrew with his sisters. That look changedto one of wild surprise as it encountered Mr. Flint's shining, good-humored countenance. I was more composed and reserved than mypartner, though feeling as vividly as he did the satisfaction of beingable not only to dispel Lady Seyton's anguish, but to extinguish theexultation, and trample on the hopes, of the Honorable James Kingston, astiff, grave, middle-aged piece of hypocritical propriety, who wassurveying from out the corners of his affectedly-unobservant eyes thefurniture and decorations of the splendid apartment, and hugging himselfwith the thought that all that was his! Business was immediatelyproceeded with. Chilton was called in. He repeated his former storyverbatim, and with much fluency and confidence. He then placed in thehands of Jackson, senior, the vouchers signed by Cunningham and Mullins. The transient light faded from Lady Seyton's countenance as she turneddespairingly, almost accusingly, towards us. 

"What answer have you to make to this gentleman's statement, thuscorroborated?" demanded Jackson, senior. 

"Quite a remarkable one, " replied Mr. Flint, as he rang the bell. "Desirethe gentlemen in the library to step up, " he added to the footman whoanswered the summons. In about three minutes in marched Cunningham andMullins, followed by two police-officers. An irrepressible exclamation ofterror escaped Chilton, which was immediately echoed by Mr. Flint'sdirection to the police, as he pointed towards the trembling caitiff:"That is your man--secure him. "

A storm of exclamations, questions, remonstrances, instantly broke forth, and it was several minutes before attention could be obtained for thestatements of our two Irish witnesses and the reading of thehappily-found letter. The effect of the evidence adduced was decisive, electrical. Lady Seyton, as its full significance flashed upon her, screamed with convulsive joy, and I thought must have fainted from excessof emotion. The Rev. John Hayley returned audible thanks to God in avoice quivering with rapture, and Miss Hayley ran out of the apartment, and presently returned with the children, who were immediatelyhalf-smothered with their mother's ecstatic kisses. All was for a fewminutes bewilderment, joy, rapture! Flint persisted to his dying day, that Lady Seyton threw her arms round his neck, and kissed his bald oldforehead. This, however, I cannot personally vouch for, as my attentionwas engaged at the moment by the adverse claimant, the Honorable JamesKingston, who exhibited one of the most irresistibly comic, wo-begone, lackadaisical aspects it is possible to conceive. He made a hurried andmost undignified exit, and was immediately followed by the discomfited"family" solicitors. Chilton was conveyed to a station-house, and thenext day was fully committed for trial. He was convicted at the nextsessions, and sentenced to seven years' transportation; and the"celebrated" firm of Flint and Sharp, derived considerable lustre, andmore profit, from this successful stroke of professional dexterity. 

JANE ECCLES

The criminal business of the office was, during the first three or fouryears of our partnership, entirely superintended by Mr. Flint; he beingmore _an fait_, from early practice, than myself in the art and mysteryof prosecuting and defending felons, and I was thus happily relieved ofduties which, in the days when George III. Was king, were frequently veryoppressive and revolting. The criminal practitioner dwelt in anatmosphere tainted alike with cruelty and crime, and pulsatingalternately with merciless decrees of death, and the shrieks and wailingsof sentenced guilt. And not always guilt! There exist many records ofproofs, incontestable, but obtained too late, of innocence having beenlegally strangled on the gallows in other cases than that of ElizaFenning. How could it be otherwise with a criminal code crowded in everyline with penalties of death, nothing but--death? Juster, wiser timeshave dawned upon us, in which truer notions prevail of what man owes toman, even when sitting in judgment on transgressors; and this we owe, letus not forget, to the exertions of a band of men who, undeterred by thesneers of the reputedly wise and _practical_ men of the world, and thetaunts of "influential" newspapers, persisted in teaching that the rightsof property could be more firmly cemented than by the shedding ofblood--law, justice, personal security more effectually vindicated thanby the gallows. Let me confess that I also was, for many years, amongstthe mockers, and sincerely held such "theorists" and "dreamers" as SirSamuel Romilly and his fellow-workers in utter contempt. Not so mypartner, Mr. Flint. Constantly in the presence of criminal judges andjuries, he had less confidence in the unerring verity of their decisionsthan persons less familiar with them, or who see them only through themedium of newspapers. Nothing could exceed his distress of mind if, incases in which he was prosecuting attorney, a convict died persisting inhis innocence, or without a full confession of guilt. And to such a pitchdid this morbidly-sensitive feeling at length arrive, that he all at oncerefused to undertake, or in any way meddle with, criminal prosecutions, and they were consequently turned over to our head clerk, with occasionalassistance from me if there happened to be a press of business of thesort. Mr. Flint still, however, retained a monopoly of the _defences_, except when, from some temporary cause or other, he happened to beotherwise engaged, when they fell to me. One of these I am about torelate, the result of which, whatever other impression it produced, thoroughly cured me--as it may the reader--of any propensity to sneer orlaugh at criminal-law reformers and denouncers of the gallows. 

One forenoon, during the absence of Mr. Flint in Wiltshire, a Mrs. Margaret Davies called at the office, in apparently great distress ofmind. This lady, I must premise, was an old, or at all events an elderlymaiden, of some four-and-forty years of age--I have heard a very intimatefemale friend of hers say she would never see fifty again, but this wasspite--and possessed of considerable house property in rather poorlocalities. She found abundant employment for energies which mightotherwise have turned to cards and scandal, in collecting her weekly, monthly, and quarterly rents, and in promoting, or fancying she did, thereligious and moral welfare of her tenants. Very bare-faced, I well knew, were the impositions practiced upon her credulous good-nature in moneymatters, and I strongly suspected the spiritual and moral promises andperformances of her motley tenantry exhibited as much discrepancy asthose pertaining to rent. Still, deceived or cheated as she might be, good Mrs. Davies never wearied in what she conceived to be well-doing, and was ever ready to pour balm and oil into the wounds of the sufferer, however self-inflicted or deserved. 

"What is the matter now?" I asked as soon as the good lady was seated, and had untied and loosened her bonnet, and thrown back her shawl, fastwalking having heated her prodigiously. "Nothing worse thantransportation is, I hope, likely to befall any of those interestingclients of yours?"

"You are a hard-hearted man, Mr. Sharp, " replied Mrs. Davies between asmile and a cry; "but being a lawyer, that is of course natural, and, asI am not here to consult you as a Christian, of no consequence. "

"Complimentary, Mrs. Davies; but pray, go on. "

"You know Jane Eccles, one of my tenants in Bank Buildings--theembroidress who adopted her sister's orphan child?"

"I remember her name. She obtained, if I recollect rightly, a balance ofwages for her due to the child's father, a mate, who died at sea. Well, what has befallen her?"

"A terrible accusation has been preferred against her, " rejoined Mrs. Davies; "but as for a moment believing it, that is quite out of thequestion. Jane Eccles, " continued the warm-hearted lady, at the same timeextracting a crumpled newspaper from the miscellaneous contents of herreticule--"Jane Eccles works hard from morning till night, keeps herselfto herself; her little nephew and her rooms are always as clean and niceas a new pin; she attends church regularly; and pays her rent punctuallyto the day. This disgraceful story, therefore, " he added, placing thejournal in my hands, "_cannot_ be true. "

I glanced over the police news:--'Uttering forged Bank-of-England notes, knowing them to be forged;' I exclaimed, "The devil!"

"There's no occasion to be spurting that name out so loudly, Mr. Sharp, "said Mrs. Davies with some asperity, "especially in a lawyer's office. People have been wrongfully accused before to-day, I suppose?"

I was intent on the report, and not answering, she continued, "I heardnothing of it till I read the shameful account in the paper half an houragone. The poor slandered girl was, I dare say, afraid or ashamed tosend for me. "

"This appears to be a very bad case, Mrs. Davies, " I said at length. "Three forged ten-pound notes changed in one day at different shops eachtime, under the pretence of purchasing articles of small amount, andanother ten-pound note found in her pocket! All that has, I must say, avery ugly look. "

"I don't care, " exclaimed Mrs. Davies quite fiercely, "if it looks asugly as sin, or if the whole Bank of England was found in her pocket! Iknow Jane Eccles well; she nursed me last spring through the fever; and Iwould be upon my oath that the whole story, from beginning to end, is aninvention of the devil, or something worse. "

"Jane Eccles, " I persisted, "appears to have been unable or unwilling togive the slightest explanation as to how she became possessed of thespurious notes. Who is this brother of hers, 'of such highly respectableappearance, ' according to the report, who was permitted a privateinterview with her previous to the examination?"

"She has no brother that I have ever heard of, " said Mrs. Davies. "Itmust be a mistake of the papers. "

"That is not likely. You observed of course that she was fullycommitted--and no wonder!"

Mrs. Davies's faith in the young woman's integrity was not to be shakenby any evidence save that of her own bodily eyes, and I agreed to seeJane Eccles on the morrow, and make the best arrangements for thedefence--at Mrs. Davies' charge--which the circumstances and the shorttime I should have for preparation--the Old Bailey session would be on ina few days--permitted. The matter so far settled, Mrs. Margaret hurriedoff to see what had become of little Henry, the prisoner's nephew. 

I visited Jane Eccles the next day in Newgate. She was a well-grown youngwoman of about two or three-and-twenty--not exactly pretty perhaps, butvery well-looking. Her brown hair was plainly worn, without a cap, andthe expression of her face was, I thought, one of sweetness and humility, contradicted in some degree by rather harsh lines about the mouth, denoting strong will and purpose. As a proof of the existence of thislast characteristic, I may here mention that, when her first overweeningconfidence had yielded to doubt, she, although dotingly fond of hernephew, at this time about eight years of age, firmly refused to see him, "in order, " she once said to me--and the thought brought a deadly pallorto her face--in order that, should the worst befall, her memory mightnot be involuntarily connected in his mind with images of dungeons, anddisgrace, and shame. Jane Eccles had received what is called in thecountry, "a good schooling, " and the books Mrs. Davies had lent her shehad eagerly perused. She was therefore to a certain extent a cultivatedperson; and her speech and manners were mild, gentle, and, so to speak, religious. I generally found, when I visited her, a Bible or prayer-bookin her hand. This, however, from my experience, comparatively slightthough it was, did not much impress me in her favor--devotional sentimentso easily, for a brief time, assumed, being in nine such cases out of tena hypocritical deceit. Still she, upon the whole, made a decidedlyfavorable impression on me, and I no longer so much wondered at thebigotry of unbelief manifested by Mrs. Davies in behalf of her apparentlyamiable and grateful protégée. 

But beyond the moral doubt thus suggested of the prisoner's guilt, myinterviews with her utterly failed to extract anything from her inrebutment of the charge upon which she was about to be arraigned. Atfirst she persisted in asserting that the prosecution was based uponmanifest error; that the impounded notes, instead of being forged, weregenuine Bank-of-England paper. It was some time before I succeeded inconvincing her that this hope, to which she so eagerly, desperatelyclung, was a fallacious one. I did so at last; and either, thought I, asI marked her varying color and faltering voice, "either you are aconsummate actress, or else the victim of some frightful delusion orconspiracy. "

"I will see you, if you please, to-morrow, " she said, looking up from thechair upon which, with her head bowed and her face covered with herhands, she had been seated for several minutes in silence. "My thoughtsare confused now, but to-morrow I shall be more composed; better able todecide if--to talk, I mean, of this unhappy business. "

I thought it better to comply without remonstrance, and at oncetook my leave. 

When I returned the next afternoon, the governor of the prison informedme that the brother of my client, James Eccles, quite a dashinggentleman, had had a long interview with her. He had left about two hoursbefore, with the intention, he said, of calling upon me. 

I was conducted to the room where my conferences with the prisonerusually took place. In a few minutes she appeared, much flushed andexcited, it seemed to be alternately with trembling joy and hope, anddoubt, and nervous fear. 

"Well, " I said, "I trust you are now ready to give me your unreservedconfidence, without which, be assured, that any reasonable hope of asuccessful issue from the peril in which you are involved is out of thequestion. "

The varying emotions I have noticed were clearly traceable as they sweptover her tell-tale countenance during the minute or so that elapsedbefore she spoke. 

"Tell me candidly, sir, " she said at last, "whether, if I owned to youthat the notes were given to me by a--a person, whom I cannot, if Iwould, produce, to purchase various articles at different shops, andreturn him--the person I mean--the change; and that I made oath this wasdone by me in all innocence of heart, as the God of heaven and earthtruly knows it was, it would avail me?"

"Not in the least, " I replied, angry at such trifling. "How can you asksuch a question? We must _find_ the person who, you intimate, hasdeceived you, and placed your life in peril; and if that can be proved, hang him instead of you. I speak plainly, Miss Eccles, " I added in amilder tone; "perhaps you may think unfeelingly, but there is no furthertime for playing with this dangerous matter. To-morrow a true bill willbe found against you, and your trial may then come on immediately. If youare careless for yourself, you ought to have some thought for thesufferings of your excellent friend, Mrs. Davies; for your nephew, soonperhaps to be left friendless and destitute. "

"Oh spare me--spare me!" sobbed the unhappy young woman, sinkingnervelessly into a seat. "Have pity upon me, wretched, bewildered as Iam!" Tears relieved her, and after awhile, she said, "It is useless, sir, to prolong this interview. I could not, I solemnly assure you, if Iwould, tell you where to search for or find the person of whom I spoke. And, " she added, whilst the lines about her mouth of which I have spoken, grew distinct and rigid, "I would not if I could. What indeed would it, as I have been told and believe, avail, but to cause the death of twodeceived innocent persons instead of one? Besides, " she continued, tryingto speak with firmness, and repress the shudder which crept over andshook her as with ague--"besides, whatever the verdict, the penalty willnot, cannot, I am sure, I know, be--be"--

I understood her plainly enough, although her resolution failed tosustain her through the sentence. 

"Who is this brother--James Eccles, he calls himself--whom you saw at thepolice-office, and who has twice been here, I understand--once to-day?"

A quick start revealed the emotion with which she heard the question, and her dilated eyes rested upon me for a moment with eager scrutiny. She speedily recovered her presence of mind, and with her eyes againfixed on the floor, said in a quivering voice, "My brother! Yes--as yousay--my brother. "

"Mrs. Davies says you have no brother!" I sharply rejoined. 

"Good Mrs. Davies, " she replied in a tone scarcely above a whisper, andwithout raising her head, "does not know all our family. "

A subterfuge was, I was confident, concealed in these words; but afteragain and again urging her to confide in me, and finding warning andpersuasion alike useless, I withdrew, discomfited and angry, and withalas much concerned and grieved as baffled and indignant. On going out, Iarranged with the governor that the "brother, " if he again made hisappearance, should be detained, _bongré malgré_, till my arrival. Ourprecaution was too late--he did not reappear; and so little notice hadany one taken of his person, that to advertise a description of him witha reward for his apprehension was hopeless. 

A true bill was found, and two hours afterwards Jane Eccles was placed inthe dock. The trial did not last more than twenty minutes, at the end ofwhich, an unhesitating verdict of guilty was returned, and she was dulysentenced to be hanged by the neck till she was dead. We had retained theablest counsel practicing in the court, but, with no tangible defence, their efforts were merely thrown away. Upon being asked what she had tosay why the sentence of the law should not be carried into effect? sherepeated her previous statement--that the notes had been given her tochange by a person in whom she reposed the utmost confidence; and thatshe had not the slightest thought of evil or fraud in what she did. Thatperson, however, she repeated once more, could not be produced. Herassertions only excited a derisive smile; and all necessary forms havingbeen gone through, she was removed from the bar. 

The unhappy woman bore the ordeal through which she had just passed withmuch firmness. Once only, whilst sentence was being passed, herhigh-strung resolution appeared to falter and give way. I was watchingher intently, and I observed that she suddenly directed a piercing looktowards a distant part of the crowded court. In a moment her eyelightened, the expression of extreme horror which had momently darkenedher countenance passed away, and her partial composure returned. I hadinstinctively, as it were, followed her glance, and thought I detected atall man enveloped in a cloak engaged in dumb momentary communicationwith her. I jumped up from my seat, and hastened as quickly as I couldthrough the thronged passages to the spot, and looked eagerly around, butthe man, whosoever he might be, was gone. 

The next act in this sad drama was the decision of the Privy Council uponthe recorder's report. It came. Several were reprieved, but amongst themwas _not_ Jane Eccles. She and nine others were to perish at eighto'clock on the following morning. 

The anxiety and worry inseparable from this most unhappy affair, which, from Mr. Flint's protracted absence, I had exclusively to bear, fairlyknocked me up, and on the evening of the day on which the decision of theCouncil was received, I went to bed much earlier than usual, and reallyill. Sleep I could not, and I was tossing restlessly about, vainlyendeavoring to banish from my mind the gloomy and terrible imagesconnected with the wretched girl and her swiftly-coming fate, when aquick tap sounded on the door, and a servant's voice announced that oneof the clerks had brought a letter which the superscription directed tobe read without a moment's delay. I sprang out of bed, snatched theletter, and eagerly ran it over. It was from the Newgate chaplain, a veryworthy, humane gentleman, and stated that, on hearing the result of thedeliberations of the Privy Council, all the previous stoicism andfortitude exhibited by Jane Eccles had completely given way, and she hadabandoned herself to the wildest terror and despair. As soon as she couldspeak coherently, she implored the governor with frantic earnestness tosend for me. As this was not only quite useless in the opinion of thatofficial, but against the rules, the prisoner's request was not compliedwith. The chaplain, however, thinking it might be as well that I shouldknow of her desire to see me, had of his own accord sent me this note. Hethought that possibly the sheriffs would permit me to have a briefinterview with the condemned prisoner in the morning, if I arrivedsufficiently early; and although it could avail nothing as regarded herfate in this world, still it might perhaps calm the frightful tumult ofemotion by which she was at present tossed and shaken, and enable her tomeet the inevitable hour with fortitude and resignation. 

It was useless to return to bed after receiving such a communication, and I forthwith dressed myself, determined to sit up and read, if Icould, till the hour at which I might hope to be admitted to the jail, should strike. Slowly and heavily the dark night limped away, and as thefirst rays of the cold wintry dawn reached the earth, I sallied forth. Adense, brutal crowd were already assembled in front of the prison, andhundreds of well-dressed sight-seers occupied the opposite windows, morbidly eager for the rising of the curtain upon the mournful tragedyabout to be enacted. I obtained admission without much difficulty, but, till the arrival of the sheriffs, no conference with the condemnedprisoners could be possibly permitted. Those important functionarieshappened on this morning to arrive unusually late, and I paced up anddown the paved corridor in a fever of impatience and anxiety. They wereat last announced, but before I could, in the hurry and confusion, obtain speech of either of them, the dismal bell tolled out, and I feltwith a shudder that it was no longer possible to effect my object. "Perhaps it is better so, " observed the reverend chaplain, in a whisper. "She has been more composed for the last two or three hours, and is now, I trust, in a better frame of mind for death. " I turned, sick at heart, to leave the place, and in my agitation missing the right way, camedirectly in view of the terrible procession. Jane Eccles saw me, and aterrific scream, followed by frantic heart-rending appeals to me to saveher, burst with convulsive effort from her white quivering lips. Neverwill the horror of that moment pass from my remembrance. I staggeredback, as if every spasmodic word struck me like a blow; and then, directed by one of the turnkeys, sped in an opposite direction as fastas my trembling limbs could carry me--the shrieks of the wretchedvictim, the tolling of the dreadful bell, and the obscene jeers andmocks of the foul crowd through which I had to force my way, evoking aconfused tumult of disgust and horror in my brain, which, if longcontinued, would have driven me mad. On reaching home, I was bledfreely, and got to bed. This treatment, I have no doubt, prevented aviolent access of fever; for, as it was, several days passed before Icould be safely permitted to re-engage in business. 

On revisiting the office, a fragment of a letter written by Jane Ecclesa few hours previous to her death, and evidently addressed to Mrs. Davies, was placed by Mr. Flint, who had by this time returned, beforeme. The following is an exact copy of it, with the exception that theintervals which I have marked with dots, .... Were filled with erasuresand blots, and that every word seemed to have been traced by a handsmitten with palsy:--

"From my Death-place, _Midnight. _

"Dear Madam--No, beloved friend--mother, let me call you.... Oh kind, gentle mother, I am to die ... To be killed in a few hours by cruelmen!--I, so young, so unprepared for death, and yet guiltless! Oh neverdoubt that I am guiltless of the offence for which they will have theheart to hang me.... Nobody, they say, can save me now; yet if I couldsee the lawyer.... I have been deceived, cruelly deceived, madam--buoyedup by lying hopes, till just now the thunder burst, and I--oh God!.... Asthey spoke, the fearful chapter in the Testament came bodily beforeme--the rending of the vail in twain, the terrible darkness, and theopened graves!.... I did not write for this, but my brain aches anddazzles.... It is too late--too late, they all tell me! ... Ah, if thesedreadful laws were not so swift, I might yet--but no; _he_ clearly provedto me how useless.... I must not think of that.... It is of my nephew, ofyour Henry, child of my affections, that I would speak. Oh, would thatI.... But hark!--they are coming.... The day has dawned ... To me the dayof judgment!.... "

This incoherent scrawl only confirmed my previous suspicions, but it wasuseless to dwell further on the melancholy subject. The great axe hadfallen, and whether justly or unjustly, would, I feared, as in many, verymany other cases, never be clearly ascertained in this world. I wasmistaken. Another case of "uttering forged Bank-of-England notes, knowingthem to be forged, " which came under our cognizance a few monthsafterwards, revived the fading memory of Jane Eccles's early doom, andcleared up every obscurity connected with it. 

The offender in this new case, was a tall, dark-complexioned, handsomeman, of about thirty years of age, of the name of Justin Arnold. His ladymother, whose real name I shall conceal under that of Barton, retained usfor her son's defence, and from her, and other sources, we learned thefollowing particulars:--

Justin Arnold was the lady's son by a former marriage. Mrs. Barton, astill splendid woman, had, in second nuptials, espoused a very wealthyperson, and from time to time had covertly supplied Justin Arnold'sextravagance. This, however, from the wild course the young man pursued, could not be forever continued, and after many warnings the supplies werestopped. Incapable of reformation, Justin Arnold, in order to obtain themeans of dissipation, connected himself with a cleverly-organized band ofswindlers and forgers, who so adroitly managed their nefarious business, that, till his capture, they had contrived to keep themselves clear ofthe law--the inferior tools and dupes having been alone caught in itsfatal meshes. The defence, under these circumstances necessarily adifficult, almost impossible one, was undertaken by Mr. Flint, andconducted by him with his accustomed skill and energy. 

I took a very slight interest in the matter, and heard very littleconcerning it till its judicial conclusion by the conviction of theoffender, and his condemnation to death. The decision on therecorder's report was this time communicated to the authorities ofNewgate on a Saturday, so that the batch ordered for execution, amongst whom was Justin Arnold, would not be hanged till the Mondaymorning. Rather late in the evening a note once more reached me fromthe chaplain of the prison. Justin Arnold wished to see me--_me_, notMr. Flint. He had something of importance to communicate, he said, relative to a person in whom I had once felt great interest. Itflashed across me that this Justin might be the "brother" of JaneEccles, and I determined to see him. I immediately sought out one ofthe sheriffs, and obtained an order empowering me to see the prisoneron the afternoon of the morrow, (Sunday). 

I found that the convict had expressed great anxiety lest I shoulddecline to see him. My hoped-for visit was the only matter whichappeared to occupy the mind or excite the care of the mocking, desperate young man; even the early and shameful termination of his ownlife on the morrow, he seemed to be utterly reckless of. Thus prepared, I was the less surprised at the scene which awaited me in theprisoner's cell, where I found him in angry altercation with the paleand affrighted chaplain. 

I had never seen Justin Arnold before, this I was convinced of theinstant I saw him; but he knew and greeted me instantly by name. Hisswarthy, excited features were flushed and angry; and after brieflythanking me for complying with his wishes, he added in a violent rapidtone, "This good man has been teasing me. He says, and truly, that I havedefied God by my life; and now he wishes me to mock that inscrutableBeing, on the eve of death, by words without sense, meaning, or truth!"

"No, no, no!" ejaculated the reverend gentleman. "I exhorted you to truerepentance, to peace, charity, to"--

"True repentance, peace, charity!" broke in the prisoner, with a scornfulburst; "when my heart is full of rage, and bitterness, and despair! Giveme _time_ for this repentance which you say is so needful--time to lureback long since banished hope, and peace, and faith! Poh!--you but floutme with words without meaning. I am unfit, you say, for the presence ofmen, but quite fit for that of God, before whom you are about toarrogantly cast me! Be it so--my deeds are upon my head! It is at leastnot my fault that I am hurled to judgment before the Eternal Judgehimself commanded my presence there!"

"He may be unworthy to live, " murmured the scared chaplain, "but oh, howutterly unfit to die!"

"That is true, " rejoined Justin Arnold, with undiminished vehemence. "Those, if you will, are words of truth and sense--go you and preach themto the makers and executioners of English law. In the meantime I wouldspeak privately with this gentleman. "

The reverend pastor, with a mute gesture of compassion, sorrow, andregret, was about to leave the cell, when he was stayed by the prisoner, who exclaimed, "Now, I think of it, you had better, sir, remain. Thestatement I am about to make cannot, for the sake of the victim'sreputation, and for her friends' sake, have too many witnesses. You bothremember Jane Eccles?" A broken exclamation from both of us answered him, and he quickly added--"Ah, you already guess the truth, I see. Well, I donot wonder you should start and turn pale. It _was_ a cruel, shamelessdeed--a dastardly murder if there was ever one. In as few words aspossible, so you interrupt me not, I will relate _my_ share in theatrocious business. " He spoke rapidly, and once or twice during the briefrecital, the moistened eye and husky voice betrayed emotions which hispride would have concealed. 

"Jane and I were born in Hertfordshire, within a short distance of eachother. I knew her from a child. She was better off then, I worse than wesubsequently became--she by her father's bankruptcy, I by my mo--, byMrs. Barton's wealthy marriage. She was about nineteen, I twenty-four, when I left the country for London. That she loved me with all thefervor of a trusting woman I well knew; and I had, too, for some timeknown that she must be either honorably wooed or not at all. That withme, was out of the question, and, as I told you, I came about that timeto London. You can, I dare say, imagine the rest. We were--I and myfriends, I mean--at a loss for agents to dispose of our wares, and at thesame time pressed for money. I met Jane Eccles by accident. Genteel, ofgraceful address and winning manners, she was just fitted for ourpurpose. I feigned re-awakened love, proffered marriage, and a homeacross the Atlantic, as soon as certain trifling but troublesome affairswhich momently harassed me were arranged. She believed me. I got her tochange a considerable number of notes under various pretexts, but thatthey were forged she had not and could not have the remotest suspicion. You know the catastrophe. After her apprehension I visited this prison asher brother, and buoyed her up to the last with illusions of certainpardon and release, whatever the verdict, through the influence of mywealthy father-in-law, of our immediate union afterwards, and tranquilAmerican home. It is needless to say more. She trusted me, and Isacrificed her; less flagrant instances of a like nature occur every day. And now, gentlemen, I would fain be alone. "

"Remorseless villain!" I could not help exclaiming under my breath as hemoved away. 

He turned quickly back, and looking me in the face, without the slightestanger, said, "An execrable villain if you like--not a remorseless one!Her death alone sits near, and troubles my, to all else, hardenedconscience. And let me tell you, reverend sir, " he continued, resuminghis former bitterness as he addressed the chaplain--"let me tell you thatit was not the solemn words of the judge the other day, but her pale, reproachful image, standing suddenly beside me in the dock, just as shelooked when I passed my last deception on her, that caused the tremor andaffright, complacently attributed by that grave functionary to his ownsepulchral eloquence. After all, her death cannot be exclusively laid tomy charge. Those who tried her would not believe her story, and yet itwas true as death. Had they not been so confident in their own unerringwisdom, they might have doomed her to some punishment short of thescaffold, and could now have retrieved their error. But I am weary, andwould, I repeat, be alone. Farewell!" He threw himself on the rudepallet, and we silently withdrew. 

A paper embodying Justin Arnold's declaration was forwarded to thesecretary of state, and duly acknowledged, accompanied by an officialexpression of mild regret that it had not been made in time to save thelife of Jane Eccles. No further notice was taken of the matter, and therecord of the young woman's judicial sacrifice still doubtless encumbersthe archives of the Home Office, forming, with numerous others of likecharacter, the dark, sanguine background upon which the achievements ofthe great and good men who have so successfully purged the old Draco codethat now a faint vestige only of the old barbarism remains, stands out inbright relief and changeless lustre. 

"EVERY MAN HIS OWN LAWYER. "

A smarter trader, a keener appreciator of the tendencies to a rise orfall in colonial produce--sugars more especially--than John Linden, ofMincing Lane, it would have been difficult to point out in the wide cityof London. He was not so immensely rich as many others engaged in thesame merchant-traffic as himself; nothing at all like it, indeed, for Idoubt that he could at any time have been esteemed worth more than fromeighty to ninety thousand pounds; but his transactions, although limitedin extent when compared with those of the mammoth colonial houses, almostalways returned more or less of profit; the result of his remarkablekeenness and sagacity in scenting hurricanes, black insurrections, andemancipation bills, whilst yet inappreciable, or deemed afar off, by lesssensitive organizations. At least to this wonderful prescience of futuresugar-value did Mr. Linden himself attribute his rise in the world, andgradual increase in rotundity, riches, and respectability. This constantsuccess engendered, as it is too apt to do, inordinate egotism, conceit, self-esteem, vanity. There was scarcely a social, governmental, oreconomical problem which he did not believe himself capable of solving aseasily as he could eat his dinner when hungry. "Common-sensebusiness-habits"--his favorite phrase--he believed to be quite sufficientfor the elucidation of the most difficult question in law, physic, ordivinity. The science of law, especially, he held to be an alphabet whichany man--of common sense and business habits--could as easily master ashe could count five on his fingers; and there was no end to his ridiculeof the men with horse-hair head-dresses, and their quirks, quiddits, cases, tenures, and such-like devil's lingo. Lawyers, according to him, were a set of thorough humbugs and impostors, who gained their living byfalse pretence--that of affording advice and counsel, which every saneman could better render himself. He was unmistakably mad upon thissubject, and he carried his insane theory into practice. He drew his ownleases, examined the titles of some house-property he purchased, and sethis hand and seal to the final deeds, guided only by his own common-sensespectacles. Once he bid, at the Auction Mart, as high as fifty-threethousand pounds for the Holmford estate, Herefordshire; and had he notbeen outbidden by young Palliser, son of the then recently-deceasedeminent distiller, who was eager to obtain the property, with a view to aseat in parliament which its possession was said to almost insure--hewould, I had not at the time the slightest doubt, have completed thepurchase, without for a moment dreaming of submitting the vender's titleto the scrutiny of a professional adviser. Mr. Linden, I should mention, had been for some time desirous of resigning his business in Mincing Laneto his son, Thomas Linden, the only child born to him by his long-sincedeceased wife, and of retiring, an estated squire-arch, to the _otiumcum. _, or _sine dignitate_, as the case might be, of a country life; andthis disposition had of late been much quickened by daily-increasingapprehensions of negro emancipation and revolutionary interference withdifferential duties--changes which, in conjunction with others of similarcharacter, would infallibly bring about that utter commercial ruin whichMr. Linden, like every other rich and about-to-retire merchant ortradesman whom I have ever known, constantly prophesied to be near athand and inevitable. 

With such a gentleman the firm of Flint & Sharp had only professionalinterviews, when procrastinating or doubtful debtors required that heshould put on the screw--a process which, I have no doubt, he wouldhimself have confidently performed, but for the waste of valuable timewhich doing so would necessarily involve. Both Flint and myself were, however, privately intimate with him--Flint more especially, who hadknown him from boyhood--and we frequently dined with him on a Sunday athis little box at Fulham. Latterly, we had on these occasions met there aMrs. Arnold and her daughter Catherine--an apparently amiable, andcertainly very pretty and interesting young person--to whom, Mr. Lindenconfidentially informed us, his son Tom had been for some time engaged. 

"I don't know much about her family, " observed Mr. Linden one day, in thecourse of a gossip at the office, "but she moves in very respectablesociety. Tom met her at the Slades'; but I _do_ know she has somethinglike thirty-five thousand pounds in the funds. The instant I was informedhow matters stood with the young folk, I, as a matter of common sense andbusiness, asked the mother, Mrs. Arnold, for a reference to her banker orsolicitor--there being no doubt that a woman and a minor would be inlawyers' leading-strings--and she referred me to Messrs. Dobson ofChancery Lane. You know the Dobsons?"

"Perfectly, --what was the reply?"

"That Catherine Arnold, when she came of age--it wants but a very shorttime of that now--would be entitled to the capital of thirty-fourthousand seven hundred pounds, bequeathed by an uncle, and now lodged inthe funds in the names of the trustees, Crowther & Jenkins, of LeadenhallStreet, by whom the interest on that sum was regularly paid, half-yearly, through the Messrs. Dobson, for the maintenance andeducation of the heiress. A common-sense, business-like letter in everyrespect, and extremely satisfactory; and as soon as he pleases, afterCatherine Arnold comes of age, and into actual possession of her fortune, Tom may have her, with my blessing over the bargain. "

I dined at Laurel Villa, Fulham, about two months after thisconversation, and Linden and I found ourselves alone over thedessert--the young people having gone out for a stroll, attracteddoubtless by the gay aspect of the Thames, which flows past the miniaturegrounds attached to the villa. Never had I seen Mr. Linden in so gay, somirthful a mood. 

"Pass the decanter, " he exclaimed, the instant the door had closed uponTom and his _fiancée_. "Pass the decanter, Sharp; I have news for you, myboy, now they are gone. "

"Indeed! and what may the news be?"

"Fill a bumper for yourself, and I'll give you a toast. Here's to thehealth and prosperity of the proprietor of the Holmford estate; and mayhe live a thousand years, and one over!--Hip--hip--hurra!"

He swallowed his glass of wine, and then, in his intensity of glee, laughed himself purple. 

"You needn't stare so, " he said, as soon as he had partially recoveredbreath; "I am the proprietor of the Holmford property--bought it forfifty-six thousand pounds of that young scant-grace and spendthrift, Palliser--fifteen thousand pounds less than what it cost him, with theoutlay he has made upon it. Signed, sealed, delivered, paid foryesterday. Ha! ha! ho! Leave John Linden alone for a bargain! It's worthseventy thousand pounds if it's worth a shilling. I say, " continued he, after a renewed spasm of exuberant mirth, "not a word about it toanybody--mind! I promised Palliser, who is quietly packing up to be offto Italy, or Australia, or Constantinople, or the devil--all of them, perhaps, in succession--not to mention a word about it till he was welloff--you understand? Ha! ha!--ho! ho!" again burst out Mr. Linden. "Ipity the poor creditors though! Bless you! I shouldn't have had it atanything like the price, only for his knowing that I was not likely to berunning about exposing the affair, by asking lawyers whether an estate ina family's possession, as this was in Dursley's for three hundred years, had a good title or not. So be careful not to drop a word, even toTom--for my honor's sake. A delicious bargain, and no mistake! Worth, ifa penny, seventy thousand pounds. Ha! ha!--ho! ho!"

"Then you have really parted with that enormous sum of money withouthaving had the title to the estate professionally examined?"

"Title! Fiddlestick! I looked over the deeds myself. Besides, haven't Itold you the ancestors of Dursley, from whose executors Palliserpurchased the estate, were in possession of it for centuries. What bettertitle than prescription can there be?"

"That may be true enough; but still"--

"I ought, you think, to have risked losing the bargain by delay, and havesquandered time and money upon fellows in horse-hair wigs, in order toascertain what I sufficiently well knew already? Pooh! I am not in mysecond childhood yet!"

It was useless to argue with him; besides the mischief, if mischief therewas, had been done, and the not long-delayed entrance of the young couplenecessitating a change of topic, I innocently inquired what he thought ofthe Negro Emancipation Bill which Mr. Stanley, as the organ of theministry, had introduced a few evenings previously? and was rewarded by aperfect deluge of loquacious indignation and invective--during a pause inwhich hurly-burly of angry words I contrived to effect my escape. 

"Crowther & Jenkins!" exclaimed one morning, Mr. Flint, looking up fromthe "Times" newspaper he held in his hand. "Crowther & Jenkins!--what isit we know about Crowther & Jenkins?"

The question was addressed to me, and I, like my partner, could not atthe moment precisely recall why those names sounded upon our ears with acertain degree of interest as well as familiarity. "Crowther & Jenkins!"I echoed. "True; what _do_ we know about Crowther & Jenkins? Oh, I haveit!--they are the executors of a will under which young Linden's prettybride, that is to be, inherits her fortune. "

"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Flint, as he put down the paper, and looked megravely in the face--"I remember now; their names are in the list ofbankrupts. A failure in the gambling corn-trade too. I hope they have notbeen speculating with the young woman's money. "

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when Mr. Linden was announced, and presently in walked that gentleman in a state of considerableexcitement. 

"I told you, " he began, "some time ago about Crowther & Jenkins being thepersons in whose names Catherine Arnold's money stood in the funds?"

"Yes, " replied Flint; "and I see by the 'Gazette' they are bankrupts, and, by your face, that they have speculated with your intendeddaughter-in-law's money, and lost it!"

"Positively so!" rejoined Mr. Linden, with great heat. "Drew it out manymonths ago! But they have exceedingly wealthy connections--at leastCrowther has--who will, I suppose, arrange Miss Arnold's claim ratherthan their relative should be arraigned for felony. "

"Felony!--you are mistaken, my good sir. There is no felony--no _legal_felony, I mean--in the matter. Miss Arnold can only prove against theestate like any other creditor. "

"The devil she can't! Tom, then, must look out for another wife, for I amcredibly informed there won't be a shilling in the pound. "

And so it turned out. The great corn-firm had been insolvent for years;and after speculating desperately, and to a frightful extent, with a viewto recover themselves, had failed to an enormous amount--their assets, comparatively speaking, proving to be _nil_. 

The ruin spread around, chiefly on account of the vast quantity ofaccommodation-paper they had afloat, was terrible; but upon no one didthe blow fall with greater severity than on young Linden and his promisedwife. His father ordered him to instantly break off all acquaintance withMiss Arnold; and on the son, who was deeply attached to her, peremptorilyrefusing to do so, Linden, senior, threatened to turn him out of doors, and ultimately disinherit him. Angry, indignant, and in love, ThomasLinden did a very rash and foolish thing; he persuaded Catherine Arnoldto consent to a private marriage, arguing that if the indissoluble knotwere once fairly tied, his father would, as a matter of course--he beingan only child--become reconciled to what he could no longer hope toprevent or remedy. 

The imprudent young man deceived both himself and her who trusted in hispleasing plausibilities. Ten minutes after he had disclosed the marriageto his father, he was turned, almost penniless, out of doors; and theexasperated and inexorable old man refused to listen to anyrepresentation in his favor, by whomsoever proffered, and finally, evento permit the mention of his name in his hearing. 

"It's of no use, " said Mr. Flint, on returning for the last time, from amission undertaken to extort, if possible, some provision againstabsolute starvation for the newly-wedded couple. "He is as cold and hardas adamant, and I think, if possible, even more of a tiger than before. He will be here presently to give instructions for his will. "

"His will! Surely he will draw that up himself after his owncommon-sense, business fashion?"

"He would unquestionably have done so a short time since; but some eventsthat have lately occurred have considerably shaken his estimate of hisown infallibility, and he is, moreover, determined, he says, that thereshall be no mistake as to effectually disinheriting his son. He has madetwo or three heavy losses, and his mind is altogether in a very cankered, distempered state. "

Mr. Linden called, as he had promised to do, and gave us the writtenheads of a will which he desired to have at once formally drawn up. Bythis instrument he devised the Holmford estate, and all other property, real and personal, of which he might die possessed, to certain charitableinstitutions, in varying proportions, payable as soon after his death asthe property could be turned into money. "The statute of mortmain doesnot give me much uneasiness, " remarked the vindictive old man with abitter smile. "I shall last some time yet. I would have left it all toyou, Flint, " he added, "only that I knew you would defeat my purpose bygiving it back to that disobedient, ungrateful, worthless boy. "

"Do leave it to me, " rejoined Mr. Flint, with grave emphasis, "and Ipromise you faithfully this--that the wish respecting it, whatever it maybe, which trembles on your lip as you are about to leave this world foranother, and when it may be too late to formally revoke the testament younow propose, shall be strictly carried out. That time cannot be a verydistant one, John Linden, for a man whose hair is white as yours. "

It was preaching to the winds. He was deaf, blind, mute, to every attemptat changing his resolve. The will was drawn in accordance with hisperemptorily-iterated instructions, and duly signed, sealed, andattested. Not very long afterwards, Mr. Linden disposed of his businessin Mincing Lane, and retired to Holmford, but with nothing like themoney-fortune he had once calculated upon, the losses alluded to by Mr. Flint, and followed by others, having considerably diminished his wealth. 

We ultimately obtained a respectable and remunerative situation forThomas Linden in a mercantile house at Belfast, with which we wereprofessionally acquainted, and after securing berths in the _Erin_steamer, he, with his wife and mother-in-law, came, with a kind ofhopeful sadness in their looks and voices, to bid us farewell--for a verylong time, they and we also feared--

For an eternity, it seemed, on reading the account of the loss of the_Erin_, a few days afterwards, with every soul on board! Their names werepublished with those of the other passengers who had embarked, and we hadof course concluded that they had perished, when a letter reached us fromBelfast, stating that, through some delay on the part of Mrs. Arnold, they had happily lost their passage in the _Erin_, and embarked in thenext steamer for Belfast, where they arrived in perfect safety. Weforwarded this intelligence to Holmford, but it elicited no reply. 

We heard nothing of Mr. Linden for about two months, except byoccasional notices in the "Hereford Times", which he regularly forwardedto the office, relative to the improvements on the Holmford estate, either actually begun or contemplated by its new proprietor. He verysuddenly reappeared. I was cooling my heels in the waiting-room of thechambers of the Barons of the Exchequer, Chancery Lane, awaiting my turnof admission, when one of our clerks came in, half-breathless with haste. "You are wanted, sir, immediately; Mr. Flint is out, and Mr. Linden is atthe office raving like a mad-man. " I instantly transferred the business Iwas in attendance at chambers upon, to the clerk, and with the help of acab soon reached home. 

Mr. Linden was not _raving_ when I arrived. The violence of the paroxysmof rage and terror by which he was possessed had passed away, and helooked, as I entered, the image of pale, rigid, iron, dumb despair. Heheld a letter and a strip of parchment in his hand; these he presented, and with white, stammering lips, bade me read. The letter was from anattorney of the name of Sawbridge, giving notice of an action ofejectment, to oust him from the possession of the Holmford estate, theproperty, according to Mr. Sawbridge, of one Edwin Majoribanks; and thestrip of parchment was the writ by which the letter had been quicklyfollowed. I was astounded; and my scared looks questioned Mr. Linden forfurther information. 

"I do not quite understand it, " he said in a hoarse, palpitating voice. "No possession or title in the venders; a niece not of age--executors nopower to sell--Palliser discovered it, robbed me, absconded, and I, ohGod! am a miserable beggar!"

The last words were uttered with a convulsive scream, and after a fewfrightful struggles he fell down in a fit. I had him conveyed to bed, and as soon as he was somewhat recovered, I hastened off to ascertainfrom Sawbridge, whom I knew very intimately, the nature of the claimintended to be set up for the plaintiff, Edwin Majoribanks. 

I met Sawbridge just as he was leaving his office, and as he was in toogreat a hurry to turn back, I walked along with him, and he rapidlydetailed the chief facts about to be embodied in the plaintiff'sdeclaration. Archibald Dursley, once a London merchant, and who died abachelor, had bequeathed his estate, real and personal, to his brotherCharles, and a niece, his sister's child--two-thirds to the niece, andone-third to the brother. The Holmford property, the will directed, should be sold by public auction when the niece came of age, unless she, by marriage or otherwise, was enabled, within six months after attainingher majority, to pay over to Charles Dursley his third in money, according to a valuation made for the purpose by competent assessors. Thebrother, Charles Dursley, had urged upon the executors to anticipate thetime directed by the will for the sale of the property; and havingpersuaded the niece to give a written authorization for the immediatesale, the executors, chiefly, Sawbridge supposed, prompted by their ownnecessities, sold the estate accordingly. But the niece not being of agewhen she signed the authority to sell, her consent was of no legal value;and she having since died intestate, Edwin Majoribanks, her cousin andundoubted heir-at-law--for the property could not have passed from her, even by marriage--now claimed the estate. Charles Dursley, the brother, was dead; "and, " continued Mr. Sawbridge, "the worst of it is, Lindenwill never get a farthing of his purchase-money from the venders, forthey are bankrupt, nor from Palliser, who has made permanent arrangementsfor continuing abroad, out of harm's reach. It is just as I tell you, "he added, as we shook hands at parting; "but you will of course see thewill, and satisfy yourself. Good-by. "

Here was a precious result of amateur common-sense lawyership! Lindencould only have examined the abstract of title furnished him byPalliser's attorney, and not the right of Dursley's executors to sell; orhad not been aware that the niece could not during her minority, subscribe an effective legal consent. 

I found Mr. Flint at the office, and quickly imparted the astoundingnews. He was as much taken aback as myself. 

"The obstinate, pig-headed old ass!" he exclaimed; "it almost serves himright, if only for his Tom-fool nonsense of 'Every man his own lawyer. 'What did you say was the niece's name?"

"Well, I don't remember that Sawbridge told me--he was in such a hurry;but suppose you go at once and look over the will?"

"True: I will do so;" and away he went. 

"This is a very singular affair, Sharp, " said Mr. Flint on his returnfrom Doctors' Commons, at the same time composedly seating himself, hooking his thumbs into the arm-holes of his waistcoat, crossing hislegs, and tilting his chair back on its hind legs. "A very singularaffair. Whom, in the name of the god of thieves--Mercury, wasn't hecalled?--do you suppose the bankrupt executors to be? No other, "continued Mr. Flint with a sudden burst, "than Crowther & Jenkins!"

"The devil!--and the niece then is"--

"Catherine Arnold--Tom Linden's wife--supposed to have been drowned inthe _Erin_! That's check-mate, I rather fancy--not only to Mr. EdwinMajoribanks, but some one else we know of. The old fellow up stairswon't refuse to acknowledge his daughter-in-law now, I fancy!"

This was indeed a happy change in the fortunes of the House of Linden;and we discussed, with much alacrity, the best mode of turningdisclosures so momentous and surprising to the best account. As a firststep, a letter with an inclosure, was dispatched to Belfast, requiringthe return of Thomas Linden and family immediately; and the next was toplead in form to the action. This done, we awaited Catherine Linden'sarrival in London, and Mr. Linden senior's convalescence--for his mentalagitation had resulted in a sharp fit of illness--to effect asatisfactory and just arrangement. 

Mr. And Mrs. Thomas Linden and Mrs. Arnold arrived by the earlieststeamer that left Belfast after the receipt of our letter; and muchastonished were they by the intelligence that awaited them. CatherineLinden was for confirming the validity of the sale of the Holmford estateby her now authoritative consent at once, as a mere act of common justiceand good faith; but this, looking at the total loss of fortune she hadsustained by the knavery of the executors, and the obstinate, mulishtemper of the father-in-law, from whom she had already received suchharsh treatment, could not for a moment be permitted; and it was finallyresolved to take advantage of the legal position in which she stood, toenforce a due present provision for herself and husband, and theirultimate succession to the estate. 

John Linden gradually recovered; and as soon as it was deemed prudent todo so, we informed him that the niece was not dead, as the plaintiff inthe action of ejectment had supposed, and that of course, if she couldnow be persuaded to ratify the imperative consent she had formerlysubscribed, he might retain Holmford. At first he received theintelligence as a gleam of light and hope, but he soon relapsed intodoubt and gloom. "What chance was there, " he hopelessly argued, "that, holding the legal power, she would not exercise it?" It was not, he said, in human nature to do otherwise; and he commissioned us to make liberaloffers for a compromise. Half--he would be content to lose half hispurchase-money; even a greater sacrifice than that he would agreeto--anything, indeed, that would not be utter ruin--that did not involveutter beggary and destitution in old age. 

Three days after this conversation, I announced to him that the lady andher husband were below and desirous of seeing him. 

"What do they say?" he eagerly demanded. "Will they accept ofhalf--two-thirds? What do they say?"

"I cannot precisely tell you. They wish to see you alone, and you canurge your own views and offers. " He trembled violently, and shranknervously back as I placed my hand on the door-handle of the privateoffice. He presently recovered in some degree his self-possession, passedin, and I withdrew from the humiliating, but salutary spectacle, ofobdurate tyrant-power compelled to humble itself before those whom it hadpreviously scorned and trampled upon. 

The legal arrangements which Flint and I had suggested were effected, andLinden, senior, accompanied by his son, daughter-in-law, and Mrs. Arnold, set off in restored amity for Holmford House. Edwin Majoribanks abandonedhis action, and Palliser, finding that matters were satisfactorilyarranged, retired to England. We afterwards knew that he had discoveredthe defect of title, on applying to a well-known conveyancer, to raise aconsiderable sum by way of mortgage, and that his first step was tothreaten legal proceedings against Crowther & Jenkins for the recovery ofhis money; but a hint he obtained of the futility of proceedings againstthem, determined him to offer the estate at a low figure to Linden, relying upon that gentleman's ostentatious contempt of lawyers that theblot in the title, subjected only to his own common-sense spectacles, would not be perceived. 

THE CHEST OF DRAWERS. 

I am about to relate a rather curious piece of domestic history, someof the incidents of which, revealed at the time of their occurrence incontemporary law reports, may be in the remembrance of many readers. Ittook place in one of the midland counties, and at a place which I shallcall Watley; the names of the chief actors who figured in it must also, to spare their modesty of their blushes, as the case may be, bechanged; and should one of those persons, spite of these precautions, apprehend unpleasant recognition, he will be able to console himselfwith the reflection, that all I state beyond that which may be gatheredfrom the records of the law courts will be generally ascribed to thefancy or invention of the writer. And it is as well, perhaps, that itshould be so. 

Caleb Jennings, a shoemaker, cobler, snob--using the last word in itsgenuine classical sense, and by no means according to the moderninterpretation by which it is held to signify a genteel sneak orpretender--he was anything but that--occupied, some twelve or thirteenyears ago, a stall at Watley, which, according to the traditions of theplace, had been hereditary in his family for several generations. He mayalso be said to have flourished there, after the manner of cobblers; forthis, it must be remembered, was in the good old times, before thegutta-percha revolution had carried ruin and dismay into thestalls--those of cobblers--which in considerable numbers existedthroughout the kingdom. Like all his fraternity whom I have ever fallenin with or heard of, Caleb was a sturdy radical of the Major Cartwrightand Henry Hunt school; and being withal industrious, tolerably skillful, not inordinately prone to the observance of Saint Mondays, possessed, moreover, of a neatly-furnished sleeping and eating apartment in thehouse of which the projecting first floor, supported on stone pillars, over-shadowed his humble work-place, he vaunted himself to be as reallyrich as an estated squire, and far more independent. 

There was some truth in this boast, as the case which procured us thehonor of Mr. Jennings's acquaintance sufficiently proved. We wereemployed to bring an action against a wealthy gentleman of the vicinityof Watley for a brutal and unprovoked assault he had committed, when in astate of partial inebriety, upon a respectable London tradesman who hadvisited the place on business. On the day of trial our witnesses appearedto have become suddenly afflicted with an almost total loss of memory;and we were only saved from an adverse verdict by the plain, straight-forward evidence of Caleb, upon whose sturdy nature the variousarts which soften or neutralize hostile evidence had been tried in vain. Mr. Flint, who personally superintended the case, took quite a liking tothe man; and it thus happened that we were called upon sometimeafterwards to aid the said Caleb in extricating himself from theextraordinary and perplexing difficulty in which he suddenly andunwittingly found himself involved. 

The projecting first floor of the house beneath which the humblework-shop of Caleb Jennings modestly disclosed itself, had been occupiedfor many years by an ailing and somewhat aged gentleman of the name ofLisle. This Mr. Ambrose Lisle was a native of Watley, and had been aprosperous merchant of the city of London. Since his return, after abouttwenty years' absence, he had shut himself up in almost total seclusion, nourishing a cynical bitterness and acrimony of temper which graduallywithered up the sources of health and life, till at length it became asvisible to himself as it had for sometime been to others, that the oil ofexistence was expended, burnt up, and that but a few weak flickers more, and the ailing man's plaints and griefs would be hushed in the darksilence of the grave. 

Mr. Lisle had no relatives at Watley, and the only individual with whomhe was on terms of personal intimacy, was Mr. Peter Sowerby, an attorneyof the place, who had for many years transacted all his business. Thisman visited Mr. Lisle most evenings, played at chess with him, andgradually acquired an influence over his client which that weak gentlemanhad once or twice feebly, but vainly endeavored to shake off. To thisclever attorney, it was rumored, Mr. Lisle had bequeathed all his wealth. 

This piece of information had been put in circulation by Caleb Jennings, who was a sort of humble favorite of Mr. Lisle's, or, at all events, wasregarded by the misanthrope with less dislike than he manifested towardsothers. Caleb cultivated a few flowers in a little plot of ground at theback of the house, and Mr. Lisle would sometimes accept a rose or a bunchof violets from him. Other slight services--especially since the recentdeath of his old and garrulous woman-servant, Esther May, who hadaccompanied him from London, and with whom Mr. Jennings had always beenupon terms of gossiping intimacy--had led to certain familiarities ofintercourse; and it thus happened that the inquisitive shoemaker becamepartially acquainted with the history of the wrongs and griefs whichpreyed upon, and shortened the life of the prematurely-aged man. 

The substance of this every-day, common-place story, as related to us byJennings, and subsequently enlarged and colored from other sources, maybe very briefly told. 

Ambrose Lisle, in consequence of an accident which occurred in hisinfancy, was slightly deformed. His right shoulder--as I understood, forI never saw him--grew out, giving an ungraceful and somewhat comicaltwist to his figure, which, in female eyes--youthful ones at least--sadlymarred the effect of his intelligent and handsome countenance. Thispersonal defect rendered him shy and awkward in the presence of women ofhis own class of society; and he had attained the ripe age ofthirty-seven years, and was a rich and prosperous man, before he gave theslightest token of an inclination towards matrimony. About a twelvemonthprevious to that period of his life, the deaths--quickly following eachother--of a Mr. And Mrs. Stevens, threw their eldest daughter, Lucy, uponMr. Lisle's hands. Mr. Lisle had been left an orphan at a very early age, and Mrs. Stevens--his aunt, and then a maiden lady--had, in accordancewith his father's will, taken charge of himself and brother till theyseverally attained their majority. Long, however, before that, shemarried Mr. Stevens, by whom she had two children--Lucy and Emily. Herhusband, whom she survived but two months, died insolvent; and inobedience to the dying wishes of his aunt, for whom he appears to havefelt the tenderest esteem, he took the eldest of her orphan children tohis home, intending to regard and provide for her as his own adoptedchild and heiress. Emily, the other sister, found refuge in the house ofa still more distant relative than himself. 

The Stevenses had gone to live in a remote part of England--Yorkshire, Ibelieve--and it thus fell out, that, till his cousin Lucy arrived at hernew home, he had not seen her for more than ten years. The pale, andsomewhat plain child, as he had esteemed her, he was startled to find hadbecome a charming woman; and her naturally gay and joyous temperament, quick talents, and fresh young beauty, rapidly acquired an overwhelminginfluence over him. Strenuously, but vainly, he struggled against thegrowing infatuation--argued, reasoned with himself--passed in review theinsurmountable objections to such a union, the difference of age--he, leading towards thirty-seven, she, barely twenty-one: he, crooked, deformed, of reserved, taciturn temper--she, full of young life, andgrace, and beauty. It was useless; and nearly a year had passed in thebootless struggle, when Lucy Stevens, who had vainly striven to blindherself to the nature of the emotions by which her cousin and guardianwas animated towards her, intimated a wish to accept her sister Emily'sinvitation to pass two or three months with her. This brought the affairto a crisis. Buoying himself up with the illusions which people in suchan unreasonable frame of mind create for themselves, he suddenly enteredthe sitting-room set apart for her private use, with the desperate purposeof making his beautiful cousin a formal offer of his hand. She was not inthe apartment, but her opened writing-desk, and a partly-finished letterlying on it, showed that she had been recently there, and would probablysoon return. Mr. Lisle took two or three agitated turns about the room, one of which brought him close to the writing-desk, and his glanceinvoluntarily fell upon the unfinished letter. Had a deadly serpentleaped suddenly at his throat, the shock could not have been greater. Atthe head of the sheet of paper was a clever pen-and-ink sketch of LucyStevens and himself--he, kneeling to her in a lovelorn, ludicrousattitude, and she, laughing immoderately at his lachrymose and pitifulaspect and speech. The letter was addressed to her sister Emily; and theenraged lover saw not only that his supposed secret was fully known, butthat he himself was mocked, laughed at, for his doting folly. At leastthis was his interpretation of the words which swam before his eyes. Atthe instant Lucy returned, and a torrent of imprecation burst from thefurious man, in which wounded self-love, rageful pride, and long pent-uppassion, found utterance in wild and bitter words. Half an hourafterwards Lucy Stevens had left the merchant's house--for ever, as itproved. She, indeed, on arriving at her sister's, sent a letter, supplicating forgiveness for the thoughtless, and, as he deemed it, insulting sketch, intended only for Emily's eye; but he replied merely bya note written by one of his clerks, informing Miss Stevens that Mr. Lisle declined any further correspondence with her. 

The ire of the angered and vindictive man had, however, begun sensibly toabate, and old thoughts, memories, duties, suggested partly by the blankwhich Lucy's absence made in his house, partly by remembrance of thesolemn promise he had made her mother, were strongly reviving in hismind, when he read the announcement of marriage in a provincial journal, directed to him, as he believed, in the bride's hand-writing; but thiswas an error, her sister having sent the newspaper. Mr. Lisle alsoconstrued this into a deliberate mockery and insult, and from that hourstrove to banish all images and thoughts connected with his cousin, fromhis heart and memory. 

He unfortunately adopted the very worst course possible for effectingthis object. Had he remained amid the buzz and tumult of active life, amere sentimental disappointment, such as thousands of us have sustainedand afterwards forgotten, would, there can be little doubt, have soonceased to afflict him. He chose to retire from business, visited Watley, and habits of miserliness growing rapidly upon his cankered mind, neverafterwards removed from the lodgings he had hired on first arrivingthere. Thus madly hugging to himself sharp-pointed memories, which asensible man would have speedily cast off and forgotten, the sourmisanthrope passed a useless, cheerless, weary existence, to which deathmust have been a welcome relief. 

Matters were in this state with the morose and aged man--aged mentallyand corporeally, although his years were but fifty-eight--when Mr. Flintmade Mr. Jennings's acquaintance. Another month or so had passed awaywhen Caleb's attention was one day about noon claimed by a young mandressed in mourning, accompanied by a female similarly attired, and fromtheir resemblance to each other he conjectured were brother and sister. The stranger wished to know if that was the house in which Mr. AmbroseLisle resided. Jennings said it was; and with civil alacrity left hisstall and rang the front-door bell. The summons was answered by thelandlady's servant, who, since Esther May's death, had waited on thefirst-floor lodger; and the visitors were invited to go up stairs. Caleb, much wondering who they might be, returned to his stall, and from thencepassed into his eating and sleeping-room just below Mr. Lisle'sapartments. He was in the act of taking a pipe from the mantel-shelf, inorder to the more deliberate and satisfactory cogitation on such anunusual event, when he was startled by a loud shout, or scream rather, from above. The quivering and excited voice was that of Mr. Lisle, andthe outcry was immediately followed by an explosion of unintelligibleexclamations from several persons. Caleb was up stairs in an instant, and found himself in the midst of a strangely-perplexing and distractedscene. Mr. Lisle, pale as his shirt, shaking in every limb, and his eyeson fire with passion, was hurling forth a torrent of vituperation andreproach at the young woman, whom he evidently mistook for some one else;whilst she, extremely terrified, and unable to stand but for theassistance of her companion, was tendering a letter in her outstretchedhand, and uttering broken sentences, which her own agitation and the furyof Mr. Lisle's invectives rendered totally incomprehensible. At last thefierce old man struck the letter from her hand, and with frantic rageordered both the strangers to leave the room. Caleb urged them to comply, and accompanied them down stairs. When they reached the street, heobserved a woman on the other side of the way, dressed in mourning, andmuch older apparently, though he could not well see her face through thethick veil she wore, than she who had thrown Mr. Lisle into such an agonyof rage, apparently waiting for them. To her the young people immediatelyhastened, and after a brief conference the three turned away up thestreet, and Mr. Jennings saw no more of them. 

A quarter of an hour afterwards the house-servant informed Caleb that Mr. Lisle had retired to bed, and although still in great agitation, and, asshe feared, seriously indisposed, would not permit Dr. Clarke to be sentfor. So sudden and violent a hurricane in the usually dull and drowsyatmosphere in which Jennings lived, excited and disturbed him greatly;the hours, however, flew past without bringing any relief to hiscuriosity, and evening was falling, when a peculiar knocking on the floorover-head announced that Mr. Lisle desired his presence. That gentlemanwas sitting up in bed, and in the growing darkness his face could not bevery distinctly seen; but Caleb instantly observed a vivid and unusuallight in the old man's eyes. The letter so strangely delivered was lyingopen before him; and unless the shoe-mender was greatly mistaken, therewere stains of recent tears upon Mr. Lisie's furrowed and hollow cheeks. The voice, too, it struck Caleb, though eager, was gentle and wavering. "It was a mistake, Jennings, " he said; "I was mad for the moment. Arethey gone?" he added in a yet more subdued and gentle tone. Calebinformed him of what he had seen; and as he did so, the strange light inthe old man's eyes seemed to quiver and sparkle with a yet intenseremotion than before. Presently he shaded them with his hand, and remainedseveral minutes silent. He then said with a firmer voice, "I shall beglad if you will step to Mr. Sowerby, and tell him I am too unwell to seehim this evening. But be sure to say nothing else, " he eagerly added, asCaleb turned away in compliance with his request; "and when you comeback, let me see you again. "

When Jennings returned, he found to his great surprise Mr. Lisle up andnearly dressed; and his astonishment increased a hundred-fold uponhearing that gentleman say, in a quick but perfectly collected anddecided manner, that he should set off for London by the mail-train. 

"For London--and by night!" exclaimed Caleb, scarcely sure that heheard aright. 

"Yes--yes! I shall not be observed in the dark, " sharply rejoined Mr. Lisle; "and you, Caleb, must keep my secret from every body, especiallyfrom Sowerby. I shall be here in time to see him to-morrow night, and hewill be none the wiser. " This was said with a slight chuckle; and as soonas his simple preparations were complete, Mr. Lisle, well wrapped up, and his face almost hidden by shawls, locked his door, and assisted byJennings, stole furtively down stairs, and reached unrecognized therailway station just in time for the train. 

It was quite dark the next evening when Mr. Lisle returned; and so wellhad he managed, that Mr. Sowerby, who paid his usual visit about half anhour afterwards, had evidently heard nothing of the suspicious absence ofhis esteemed client from Watley. The old man exulted over the success ofhis deception to Caleb, the next morning, but dropped no hint as to theobject of his sudden journey. 

Three days passed without the occurrence of any incident tending to theenlightenment of Mr. Jennings upon these mysterious events, which, however, he plainly saw had lamentably shaken the long-since failing man. On the afternoon of the fourth day, Mr. Lisle walked, or rather tottered, into Caleb's stall, and seated himself on the only vacant stool itcontained. His manner was confused, and frequently purposeless, and therewas an anxious, flurried expression in his face, which Jennings did notat all like. He remained silent for some time, with the exception ofpartially inaudible snatches of comment or questionings, apparentlyaddressed to himself. At last he said, "I shall take a longer journeyto-morrow, Caleb--much longer; let me see--where did I say? Ah, yes! toGlasgow; to be sure to Glasgow!"

"To Glasgow, and to-morrow!" exclaimed the astounded cobbler. 

"No, no--not Glasgow; they have removed, " feebly rejoined Mr. Lisle. "But Lucy has written it down for me. True--true; and to-morrow Ishall set out. "

The strange expression of Mr. Lisle's face became momentarily morestrongly marked, and Jennings, greatly alarmed, said, "You are ill, Mr. Lisle; let me run for Dr. Clarke. "

"No--no, " he murmured, at the same time striving to rise from his seat, which he could only accomplish by Caleb's assistance, and so supported, he staggered indoors. "I shall be better to-morrow, " he said faintly, andthen slowly added, "To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow! Ah, me! Yes, as I said, to-morrow, I"--He paused abruptly, and they gained hisapartment. He seated himself, and then Jennings, at his mutesolicitation, assisted him to bed. 

He lay some time with his eyes closed; and Caleb could feel--for Mr. Lisle held him firmly by the hand, as if to prevent his going away--aconvulsive shudder pass over his frame. At last he slowly opened hiseyes, and Caleb saw that he was indeed about to depart upon the longjourney from which there is no return. The lips of the dying man workedinarticulately for some moments; and then with a mighty effort, as itseemed, he said, whilst his trembling hand pointed feebly to a bureauchest of drawers that stood in the room, "There--there, for Lucy; there, the secret place is"--Some inaudible words followed, and then after astill mightier struggle than before, he gasped out, "No word--noword--to--to Sowerby--for her--Lucy. "

More was said, but undistinguishable by mortal ear; and after gazing withan expression of indescribable anxiety in the scared face of hisawe-struck listener, the wearied eyes slowly reclosed--the deep silenceflowed past; then the convulsive shudder came again, and he was dead!

Caleb Jennings tremblingly summoned the house-servant and the landlady, and was still confusedly pondering the broken sentences uttered by thedying man, when Mr. Sowerby hurriedly arrived. The attorney's first carewas to assume the direction of affairs, and to place seals upon everyarticle containing or likely to contain anything of value belonging tothe deceased. This done, he went away to give directions for the funeral, which took place a few days afterwards; and it was then formallyannounced that Mr. Sowerby succeeded by will to the large property ofAmbrose Lisle; under trust, however, for the family, if any, of RobertLisle, the deceased's brother, who had gone when very young to India, andhad not been heard of for many years--a condition which did not at allmar the joy of the crafty lawyer, he having long since instituted privateinquiries, which perfectly satisfied him, that the said Robert Lisle haddied, unmarried, at Calcutta. 

Mr. Jennings was in a state of great dubiety and consternation. Sowerbyhad emptied the chest of drawers of every valuable it contained; andunless he had missed the secret receptacle Mr. Lisle had spoken of, thedeceased's intentions, whatever they might have been, were clearlydefeated. And if he had _not_ discovered it, how could he, Jennings, getat the drawers to examine them? A fortunate chance brought some relief tohis perplexities. Ambrose Lisle's furniture was advertised to be sold byauction, and Caleb resolved to purchase the bureau chest of drawers atalmost any price, although to do so would oblige him to break into hisrent-money, then nearly due. The day of sale came, and, the important lotin its turn was put up. In one of the drawers there were a number ofloose newspapers, and other valueless scraps; and Caleb, with a sly grin, asked the auctioneer, if he sold the article with all its contents. "Oh, yes, " said Sowerby, who was watching the sale; "the buyer may have all itcontains over his bargain, and much good may it do him. " A laugh followedthe attorney's sneering remark, and the biddings went on. "I want it, "observed Caleb "because it just fits a recess like this one in my roomunderneath. " This he said to quiet a suspicion he thought he sawgathering upon the attorney's brow. It was finally knocked down to Calebat £5 10s. , a sum considerably beyond its real value; and he had toborrow a sovereign in order to clear his speculative purchase. This done, he carried off his prize, and as soon as the closing of the house for thenight secured him from interruption, he set eagerly to work in search ofthe secret drawer. A long and patient examination was richly rewarded. Behind one of the small drawers of the _secrétaire_ portion of the pieceof furniture was another small one, curiously concealed, which containedBank-of-England notes to the amount of £200, tied up with a letter, uponthe back of which was written, in the deceased's hand-writing, "To takewith me. " The letter which Caleb, although he read print with facility, had much difficulty in making out, was that which Mr. Lisle had struckfrom the young woman's hand a few weeks before, and proved to be a veryaffecting appeal from Lucy Stevens, now Lucy Warner, and a widow, withtwo grown-up children. Her husband had died in insolvent circumstances, and she and her sister Emily, who was still single, were endeavoring tocarry on a school at Bristol, which promised to be sufficientlyprosperous if the sum of about £150 could be raised, to save thefurniture from her deceased husband's creditors. The claim was pressing, for Mr. Warner had been dead nearly a year, and Mr. Lisle being the onlyrelative Mrs. Warner had in the world, she had ventured to entreat hisassistance for her mother's sake. There could be no moral doubt, therefore, that this money was intended for Mrs. Warner's relief; andearly in the morning Mr. Caleb Jennings dressed himself in his Sunday'ssuit, and with a brief announcement to his landlady that he was about toleave Watley for a day or two, on a visit to a friend, set off for therailway station. He had not proceeded far when a difficulty struckhim--the bank-notes were all twenties; and were he to change atwenty-pound note at the station, where he was well known, great would bethe tattle and wonderment, if nothing worse, that would ensue. So Calebtried his credit again, borrowed sufficient for his journey to London, and there changed one of the notes. 

He soon reached Bristol, and blessed was the relief which the sum ofmoney he brought afforded Mrs. Warner. She expressed much sorrow for thedeath of Mr. Lisle, and great gratitude to Caleb. The worthy manaccepted with some reluctance one of the notes, or at least as much asremained of that which he had changed; and after exchanging promiseswith the widow and her relatives to keep the matter secret, departedhomewards. The young woman, Mrs. Warner's daughter, who had brought theletter to Watley, was, Caleb noticed, the very image of her mother, or, rather, of what her mother must have been when young. This remarkableresemblance it was, no doubt, which had for the moment so confounded andagitated Mr. Lisle. 

Nothing occurred for about a fortnight after Caleb's return to disquiethim, and he had begun to feel tolerably sure that his discovery of thenotes would remain unsuspected, when, one afternoon, the sudden andimpetuous entrance of Mr. Sowerby into his stall caused him to jump upfrom his seat with surprise and alarm. The attorney's face was deathlywhite, his eyes glared like a wild beast's, and his whole appearanceexhibited uncontrollable agitation. "A word with you, Mr. Jennings, " hegasped--"a word in private, and at once!" Caleb, in scarcely lessconsternation than his visitor, led the way into his inner room, andclosed the door. 

"Restore--give back, " screamed the attorney, vainly struggling todissemble the agitation which convulsed him--"that--that which you havepurloined from the chest of drawers!"

The hot blood rushed to Caleb's face and temples; the wild vehemence andsuddenness of the demand confounded him; and certain previous dimsuspicions that the law might not only pronounce what he had doneillegal, but possibly felonious, returned upon him with terrible force, and he quite lost his presence of mind. 

"I can't--I can't, " he stammered. "It's gone--given away"--

"Gone!" shouted, or, more correctly, howled--Sowerby, at thesame time flying at Caleb's throat as if he would throttle him. "Gone--given away! You lie--you want to drive a bargain withme--dog!--liar!--rascal!--thief!"

This was a species of attack which Jennings was at no loss how to meet. He shook the attorney roughly off, and hurled him, in the midst of hisvituperation, to the further end of the room. 

They then stood glaring at each other in silence, till the attorney, mastering himself as well as he could, essayed another and more rationalmode of attaining his purpose:--

"Come, come, Jennings, " he said, "don't be a fool. Let us understand eachother. I have just discovered a paper, a memorandum of what you havefound in the drawers, and to obtain which you bought them. I don't carefor the money--keep it; only give me the papers--documents. "

"Papers--documents!" ejaculated Caleb, in unfeigned surprise. 

"Yes--yes; of use to me only. You, I remember, cannot read writing; butthey are of great consequence to me--to me only, I tell you. "

"You can't mean Mrs. Warner's letter?"

"No--no; curse the letter! You are playing with a tiger! Keep the money, I tell you; but give up the papers--documents--or I'll transport you!"shouted Sowerby with reviving fury. 

Caleb, thoroughly bewildered, could only mechanically ejaculate that hehad no papers or documents. 

The rage of the attorney when he found he could extract nothing fromJennings was frightful. He literally foamed with passion, uttered thewildest threats; and then suddenly changing his key, offered theastounded cobbler one--two--three thousand pounds--any sum he chose toname, for the papers--documents! This scene of alternate violence andcajolery lasted nearly an hour; and then Sowerby rushed from the house asif pursued by the furies, and leaving his auditor in a state of thoroughbewilderment and dismay. It occurred to Caleb, as soon as his mind hadsettled into something like order, that there might be another secretdrawer; and the recollection of Mr. Lisle's journey to London recurredsuggestively to him. Another long and eager search, however, provedfruitless; and the suspicion was given up, or, more correctly, weakened. 

As soon as it was light the next morning, Mr. Sowerby was again withhim. He was more guarded now, and was at length convinced that Jenningshad no paper or document to give up. "It was only some importantmemoranda, " observed the attorney carelessly, "that would save me aworld of trouble in a lawsuit I shall have to bring against some heavydebtors to Mr. Lisle's estate; but I must do as well as I can withoutthem. Good morning. " Just as he reached the door a sudden thoughtappeared to strike him. He stopped and said, "By the way, Jennings, inthe hurry of business I forgot that Mr. Lisle had told me the chest ofdrawers you bought, and a few other articles, were family relics whichhe wished to be given to certain parties he named. The other things Ihave got; and you, I suppose, will let me have the drawers for--say apound profit on your bargain?"

Caleb was not the acutest man in the world; but this sudden proposition, carelessly as it was made, suggested curious thoughts. "No, " he answered;"I shall not part with it. I shall keep it as a memorial of Mr. Lisle. "

Sowerby's face assumed as Caleb spoke, a ferocious expression. "Shallyou?" said he. "Then, be sure, my fine fellow, that you shall also havesomething to remember me by as long as you live. "

He then went away, and a few days afterwards Caleb was served with a writfor the recovery of the two hundred pounds. 

The affair made a great noise in the place; and Caleb's conduct beingvery generally approved, a subscription was set on foot to defray thecost of defending the action--one Hayling, a rival attorney to Sowerby, having asserted that the words used by the proprietor of the chest ofdrawers at the sale barred his claim to the money found in them. Thiswise gentleman was intrusted with the defence; and strange to say, thejury--a common one--spite of the direction of the judge returned averdict for the defendant, upon the ground that Sowerby's jocular orsneering remark amounted to a serious, valid leave and license to selltwo hundred pounds for five pounds ten shillings!

Sowerby obtained, as a matter of course, a rule for a new trial; and afresh action was brought. All at once Hayling refused to go on, allegingdeficiency of funds. He told Jennings that in his opinion it would bebetter that he should give in to Sowerby's whim, who only wanted thedrawers in order to comply with the testator's wishes. "Besides, "remarked Hayling in conclusion, "he is sure to get the article, you know, when it comes to be sold under a writ of _fi fa_. " A few days after thisconversation it was ascertained that Hayling was to succeed to Sowerby'sbusiness, the latter gentleman being about to retire upon the fortunebequeathed him by Mr. Lisle. 

At last Caleb, driven nearly out of his senses, though still doggedlyobstinate, by the harassing perplexities in which he found himself, thought of applying to us. 

"A very curious affair, upon my word, " remarked Mr. Flint, as soon asCaleb had unburdened himself of the story of his woes and cares; "and inmy opinion by no means explainable by Sowerby's anxiety to fulfill thetestator's wishes. He cannot expect to get two hundred pence out of you;and Mrs. Warner, you say, is equally unable to pay. Very odd indeed. Perhaps if we could get time, something might turn up. "

With this view Flint looked over the papers Caleb had brought, and foundthe declaration was in _trover_--a manifest error--the notes neveradmittedly having been in Sowerby's actual possession. We accordinglydemurred to the form of action, and the proceedings were set aside. This, however, proved of no ultimate benefit. Sowerby persevered, and a freshaction was instituted against the unhappy shoe-mender. So utterlyovercrowed and disconsolate was poor Caleb, that he determined to give upthe drawers which was all Sowerby even now required, and so wash hishands of the unfortunate business. Previous, however, to this being done, it was determined that another thorough and scientific examination ofthe mysterious piece of furniture should be made; and for this purposeMr. Flint obtained a workman skilled in the mysteries of secretcontrivances, from the desk and dressing-case establishment in KingStreet, Holborn, and proceeded with him to Watley. 

The man performed his task with great care and skill; every depth andwidth was guaged and measured, in order to ascertain if there were anyfalse bottoms or backs; and the workman finally pronounced that there wasno concealed receptacle in the article. 

"I am sure there is, " persisted Flint, whom disappointment as usualrendered but the more obstinate; "and so is Sowerby: and he knows too, that it is so cunningly contrived as to be undiscoverable, except by aperson in the secret, which he no doubt at first imagined Caleb to be. I'll tell you what we'll do--You have the necessary tools with you. Splitthe confounded chest of drawers into shreds--I'll be answerable for theconsequences. "

This was done carefully and methodically, but for some time withoutresult. At length the large drawer next the floor had to be knocked topieces; and as it fell apart, one section of the bottom, which, like allthe others, was divided into two compartments, dropped asunder, anddiscovered a parchment laid flat between the two thin leaves, which, whenpressed together in the grooves of the drawer, presented precisely thesame appearance as the rest. Flint snatched up the parchment, and hiseager eye had scarcely rested an instant on the writing, when a shout oftriumph burst from him. It was the last will and testament of AmbroseLisle, dated August 21, 1838--the day of his last hurried visit toLondon. It revoked the former will, and bequeathed the whole of hisproperty, in equal portions, to his cousins Lucy Warner and EmilyStevens, with succession to their children; but with reservation ofone-half to his brother Robert or children, should he be alive, or haveleft offspring. 

Great, it may be supposed was the jubilation of Caleb Jennings at thisdiscovery; and all Watley, by his agency, was in a marvelously shortspace of time in a very similar state of excitement. It was very latethat night when he reached his bed; and how he got there at all, and whatprecisely had happened, except, indeed, that he had somewhere picked up asplitting headache, was, for some time after he awoke the next morning, very confusedly remembered. 

Mr. Flint, by reflection, was by no means so exultant as the worthyshoe-mender. The odd mode of packing away a deed of such importance, with_no assignable motive for doing so_, except the needless awe with whichSowerby was said to have inspired his feeble-spirited client, togetherwith what Caleb had said of the shattered state of the deceased's mindafter the interview with Mrs. Warner's daughter, suggested fears thatSowerby might dispute, and perhaps successfully, the validity of thislast will. My excellent partner, however, determined, as was his wont, toput a bold face on the matter; and first clearly settling in his own mindwhat he should and what he should _not_ say, waited upon Mr. Sowerby. Thenews had preceded him, and he was at once surprised and delighted to findthat the nervous crest-fallen attorney was quite unaware of theadvantages of his position. On condition of not being called to accountfor the moneys he had received and expended, about £1200, he destroyedthe former will in Mr. Flint's presence, and gave up, at once, all thedeceased's papers. From these we learned that Mr. Lisle had written aletter to Mrs. Warner, stating what he had done, and where the will wouldbe found, and that only herself and Jennings would know the secret. Prominfirmity of purpose, or from having subsequently determined on apersonal interview, the letter was not posted; and Sowerby subsequentlydiscovered it, together with a memorandum of the numbers of thebank-notes found by Caleb in the secret drawer--the eccentric gentlemanappears to have had quite a mania for such hiding-places--of awriting-desk. 

The affair was thus happily terminated; Mrs. Warner, her children, andsister, were enriched, and Caleb Jennings was set up in a good way ofbusiness in his native place, where he still flourishes. Over thecentre of his shop there is a large nondescript sign, surmounted by agolden boot, which upon a close inspection is found to bear aresemblance to a huge bureau chest of drawers, all the circumstancesconnected with which may be heard, for the asking, and in much fullerdetail than I have given, from the lips of the owner of theestablishment, by any lady or gentleman who will take the trouble of ajourney to Watley for that purpose. 

THE PUZZLE. 

Tempus fugit! The space of but a few brief yesterdays seems to havepassed since the occurrence of the following out-of-the-wayincidents--out-of-the-way, even in our profession, fertile as it is instartling experiences; and yet the faithful and unerring tell-tale andmonitor, Anno Domini 1851, instructs me that a quarter of a century hasnearly slipped by since the first scene in the complicated play ofcircumstances opened upon me. The date I remember well, for theTower-guns had been proclaiming with their thunder-throats the victory ofNavarino but a short time before a clerk announced, "William Martin, witha message from Major Stewart. "

This William Martin was a rather sorry curiosity in his way. He was nowin the service of our old client, Major Stewart; and a tall, good-lookingfellow enough, spite of a very decided cast in his eyes, which therascal, when in his cups--no unusual occurrence--declared he had caughtfrom his former masters--Edward Thorneycroft, Esq. , an enormously richand exceedingly yellow East India director, and his son, Mr. HenryThorneycroft, with whom, until lately transferred to Major Stewart'sservice, he had lived from infancy--his mother and father having formedpart of the elder Thorneycroft's establishment when he was born. He had anotion in his head that he had better blood in his veins than the worldsupposed, and was excessively fond of aping the gentleman; and this hedid, I must say, with the ease and assurance of a stage-player. His namewas scarcely out of the clerk's lips when he entered the inner officewith a great effort at steadiness and deliberation, closed the door verycarefully and importantly, hung his hat with much precision on a brasspeg, and then steadying himself by the door-handle, surveyed thesituation and myself with staring lack-lustre eyes and infinite gravity. I saw what was the matter. 

"You have been in the 'Sun, ' Mr. Martin?"

A wink, inexpressible by words, replied to me, and I could see by themotion of the fellow's lips that speech was attempted; but it came sothick that it was several minutes before I made out that he meant tosay the British had been knocking the Turks about like bricks, andthat he had been patriotically drinking the healths of the saidBritish or bricks. 

"Have the goodness, sir, to deliver your message, and then instantlyleave the office. "

"Old Tho-o-o-rney, " was the hiccoughed reply, "has smoked the--theplot. Young Thorney's done for. Ma-a-aried in a false name;tra-ansportation--of course. "

"What gibberish is this about old Thorney and young Thorney? Do you notcome from Major Stewart?"

"Ye-e-es, that's right; the route's arrived for the old trump; wishesto--to see you"

"Major Stewart dying! Why, you are a more disgraceful scamp than Ibelieved you to be. Send this fellow away, " I added to a clerk whoanswered my summons. I then hastened off, and was speedily rattling overthe stones towards Baker Street, Portman Square, where Major Stewartresided. As I left the office I heard Martin beg the clerk to lead him tothe pump previous to sending him off--no doubt for the purpose ofsobering himself somewhat previous to reappearing before the major, whose motives for hiring or retaining such a fellow in his modestestablishment I could not understand. 

"You were expected more than an hour ago, " said Dr. Hampton, who was justleaving the house. "The major is now, I fear, incapable of business. "

There was no time for explanation, and I hastily entered thesick-chamber. Major Stewart, though rapidly sinking, recognized me; andin obedience to a gesture from her master the aged, weeping house-keeperleft the room. The major's daughter, Rosamond Stewart, had been absentwith her aunt, her father's maiden sister, on a visit, I understood, tosome friends in Scotland, and had not, I concluded, been made acquaintedwith the major's illness, which had only assumed a dangerous character afew days previously. The old soldier was dying calmly andpainlessly--rather from exhaustion of strength, a general failure of thepowers of life, than from any especial disease. A slight flush tinged themortal pallor of his face as I entered, and the eyes emitted aslightly-reproachful expression. 

"It is not more, my dear sir, " I replied softly but eagerly to his look, "than a quarter of an hour ago that I received your message. "

I do not know whether he comprehended or even distinctly heard what Isaid, for his feeble but extremely anxious glance was directed whilstI spoke to a large oil-portrait of Rosamond Stewart, suspended overthe mantel-piece. The young lady was a splendid, dark-eyed beauty, and of course the pride and darling of her father. Presentlywrenching, as it were, his eyes from the picture, he looked in myface with great earnestness, and bending my ear close to his lips, Iheard him feebly and brokenly say, "A question to ask you, that'sall; read--read!" His hand motioned towards a letter which lay openon the bed; I ran it over, and the major's anxiety was at onceexplained. Rosamond Stewart had, I found, been a short timepreviously married in Scotland to Henry Thorneycroft, the son of thewealthy East India director. Finding his illness becoming serious, the major had anticipated the time and mode in which the young peoplehad determined to break the intelligence to the irascible father ofthe bridegroom, and the result was the furious and angry letter inreply which I was perusing. Mr. Thorneycroft would never, hedeclared, recognize the marriage of his undutiful nephew--nephew, _not_ son; for he was, the letter announced, the child of an onlysister, whose marriage had also mortally offended Mr. Thorneycroft, and had been brought up from infancy as his (Mr. Thorneycroft's) son, in order that the hated name of Allerton, to which the boy was alonelegally entitled, might never offend his ear. There was somethingadded insinuative of a doubt of the legality of the marriage, inconsequence of the misnomer of the bridegroom at the ceremony. 

"One question, " muttered the major, as I finished the perusal of theletter--"Is Rosamond's marriage legal?"

"No question about it. How could any one suppose that an involuntarymisdescription can affect such a contract?"

"Enough--enough!" he gasped. "A great load is gone!--the rest is withGod. Beloved Rosamond"--The slight whisper was no longer audible; sighs, momently becoming fainter and weaker, followed--ceased, and in littlemore than ten minutes after the last word was spoken, life was extinct. Irang the bell, and turned to leave the room, and as I did so surprisedMartin on the other side of the bed. He had been listening, screened bythe thick damask curtains, and appeared to be a good deal sobered. Imade no remark, and proceeded on down stairs. The man followed, and assoon as we had gained the hall said quickly, yet hesitatingly, "Sir--sir!"

"Well, what have you to say?"

"Nothing very particular, sir. But did I understand you to say just now, that it was of no consequence if a man married in a false name?"

"That depends upon circumstances. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing--nothing; only I have heard it's transportation, especiallyif there's money. "

"Perhaps you are right. Anything else?"

"No, " said he, opening the door; "that's all--mere curiosity. "

I heard nothing more of the family for some time, except with referenceto Major Stewart's personal property, about £4000 bequeathed to hisdaughter, with a charge thereon of an annuity of £20 a year for Mrs. Leslie, the aged house-keeper; the necessary business connected withwhich we transacted. But about a twelvemonth after the major's death, themarriage of the elder Thorneycroft with a widow of the same name ashimself, and a cousin, the paper stated, was announced; and pretty nearlya year and a half subsequent to the appearance of this ominous paragraph, the decease of Mr. Henry Thorneycroft at Lausanne, in Switzerland, whohad left, it was added in the newspaper stock-phrase of journalism, ayoung widow and two sons to mourn their irreparable loss. Silence again, as far as we were concerned, settled upon the destinies of thedescendants of our old military client, till one fine morning a letterfrom Dr. Hampton informed us of the sudden death by apoplexy, a few dayspreviously, of the East India director. Dr. Hampton further hinted thathe should have occasion to write us again in a day or two, relative tothe deceased's affairs, which, owing to Mr. Thorneycroft's unconquerableaversion to making a will, had, it was feared, been left in an extremelyunsatisfactory state. Dr. Hampton had written to us, at the widow'srequest, in consequence of his having informed her that we had been theprofessional advisers of Major Stewart, and were in all probability thoseof his daughter, Mrs. Henry Allerton. 

We did not quite comprehend the drift of this curious epistle; butalthough not specially instructed, we determined at once to write to Mrs. Rosamond Thorneycroft or Allerton, who with her family was still abroad, and in the meantime take such formal steps in her behalf as might appearnecessary. 

We were not long in doubt as to the motives of the extremely civilapplication to ourselves on the part of the widow of the East Indiadirector. The deceased's wealth had been almost all invested in land, which went, he having died intestate, to his nephew's son, HenryAllerton; and the personals in which the widow would share wereconsequently of very small amount. Mrs. Thorneycroft was, therefore, anxious to propose, through us, a more satisfactory and equitablearrangement. We could of course say nothing till the arrival of Mrs. Rosamond Allerton, for which, however, we had only a brief time to wait. There were, we found, no indisposition on that lady's part to act withgenerosity towards Mr. Thorneycroft's widow--a showy, vulgarish person, by the way, of about forty years of age--but there was a legal difficultyin the way, in consequence of the heir-at-law being a minor. Mrs. Thorneycroft became at length terribly incensed, and talked a good dealof angry nonsense about disputing the claim of Henry Allerton's son tothe estates, on the ground that his marriage, having been contracted ina wrong name, was null and void. Several annoying paragraphs got inconsequence into the Sunday newspapers, and these brought about aterrible disclosure. 

About twelve o'clock one day, the Widow Thorneycroft bouncedunceremoniously into the office, dragging in with her a comely and ratherinteresting-looking young woman, but of a decidedly rustic complexion andaccent, and followed by a grave, middle-aged clergyman. The widow's largeeyes sparkled with strong excitement, and her somewhat swarthy featureswere flushed with hot blood. 

"I have brought you, " she burst out abruptly, "the real Mrs. Allerton, and"--

"No, no!" interrupted the young woman, who appeared muchagitated--"Thorneycroft, not Allerton!"--

"I know, child--I know; but that is nothing to the purpose. This youngperson, Mr. Sharp, is, I repeat, the true and lawful Mrs. HenryAllerton. "

"Pooh!" I answered; "do you take us for idiots? This, " I added with somesternness, "is either a ridiculous misapprehension or an attempt atimposture, and I am very careless which it may be. "

"You are mistaken, sir, " rejoined the clergyman mildly. "This young womanwas certainly married by me at Swindon church, Wilts, to a gentleman ofthe name of Henry Thorneycroft, who, it appears from the newspapers, confirmed by this lady, was no other than Mr. Henry Allerton. Thismarriage, we find, took place six months previously to that contractedwith Rosamond Stewart. I have further to say that this young woman, MariaEmsbury, is a very respectable person, and that her marriage-portion, ofa little more than eight hundred pounds, was given to her husband, whomshe has only seen thrice since her marriage, to support himself till thedeath of his reputed father, constantly asserted by him to be imminent. "

"A story very smoothly told, and I have no doubt in your opinion quitesatisfactory; but there is one slight matter which I fancy you will findsomewhat difficult of proof--I mean the identity of Maria Emsbury'shusband with the son or nephew of the late Mr. Thorneycroft. "

"He always said he was the son of the rich East Indian, Mr. Thorneycroft, " said the young woman with a hysterical sob; "and here, "she added, "is his picture in his wedding-dress--that of an officer ofthe Gloucestershire Yeomanry. He gave it me the day before the wedding. "

I almost snatched the portrait. Sure enough it was a miniature of HenryAllerton--there could be no doubt about that. 

Mr. Flint, who had been busy with some papers, here approached andglanced at the miniature. 

I was utterly confounded, and my partner, I saw, was equally dismayed;and no wonder, entertaining as we both did the highest respect andadmiration for the high-minded and beautiful daughter of Major Stewart. 

The Widow Thorneycroft's exultation was exuberant. 

"As this only legal marriage, " said she, "has been blessed with no issue, I am of course, as you must be aware, the legitimate heiress-at-law, asmy deceased husband's nearest blood-relative. I shall, however, " sheadded, "take care to amply provide for my widowed niece-in-law. "

The young woman made a profound rustic courtesy, and tears of unaffectedgratitude, I observed, filled her eyes. 

The game was not, however, to be quite so easily surrendered as theyappeared to imagine. "Tut! tut!" exclaimed Mr. Flint bluntly--"this maybe mere practice. Who knows how the portrait has been obtained?"

The girl's eyes flashed with honest anger. There was no practice abouther I felt assured. "Here are other proofs: My husband's signet-ring, left accidentally, I think, with me, and two letters which I fromcuriosity took out of his coat-pocket--the day, I am pretty sure it was, after we were married. "

"If this cumulative circumstantial evidence does not convince you, gentlemen, " added the Rev. Mr. Wishart, "I have direct personal testimonyto offer. You know Mr. Angerstein of Bath?"

"I do. "

"Well, Mr. Henry Thorneycroft or Allerton, was at the time this marriagetook place, on a visit to that gentleman; and I myself saw thebridegroom, whom I had united a fortnight previously in Swindon church, walking arm-and-arm with Mr. Angerstein in Sydney Gardens, Bath. I was atsome little distance, but I recognized both distinctly, and bowed. Mr. Angerstein returned my salutation, and he recollects the circumstancedistinctly. The gentleman walking with him in the uniform of theGloucestershire Yeomanry was, Mr. Angerstein is prepared to depose, Mr. Henry Thorneycroft or Allerton. "

"You waste time, reverend sir, " said Mr. Flint with an affectation offirmness and unconcern he was, I knew, far from feeling. "We are theattorneys of Mrs. Rosamond Allerton, and shall, I dare say, if you pushus to it, be able to tear this ingeniously-colored cobweb of yours toshreds. If you determine on going to law, your solicitor can serve us; wewill enter an appearance, and our client will be spared unnecessaryannoyance. "

They were about to leave, when, as ill-luck would have it, one of theclerks who, deceived by the momentary silence, and from not having beenat home when the unwelcome visitors arrived, believed we were disengaged, opened the door, and admitted Mrs. Rosamond Allerton and her aunt, MissStewart. Before we could interpose with a word, the Widow Thorneycroftburst out with the whole story in a torrent of exultant Volubility thatit was impossible to check or restrain. 

For awhile contemptuous incredulity, indignant scorn, upheld the assailedlady; but as proof after proof was hurled at her, reinforced by the gravesoberness of the clergyman and the weeping sympathy of the young woman, her firmness gave way, and she swooned in her aunt's arms. We should havemore peremptorily interfered but for our unfortunate client's deprecatorygestures. She seemed determined to hear the worst at once. Now, however, we had the office cleared of the intruders without much ceremony and, assoon as the horror-stricken lady was sufficiently recovered, she wasconducted to her carriage, and after arranging for an early interview onthe morrow, was driven off. 

I found our interesting, and, I feared, deeply-injured client muchrecovered from the shock which on the previous day had overwhelmed her;and although exceedingly pale--lustrously so, as polished Parianmarble--and still painfully agitated, there was hope, almost confidence, in her eye and tone. 

"There is some terrible misapprehension in this frightful affair, Mr. Sharp, " she began. "Henry, my husband, was utterly incapable of a mean ordishonest act, much less of such utter baseness as this of which he isaccused. They also say, do they not, " she continued, with a smile ofhaughty contempt, "that he robbed the young woman of her poor dowry--someeight hundred pounds? A proper story!"

"That, I confess, from what little I know of Mr. Henry Thorneycroft, stamps the whole affair as a fabrication; and yet the Reverend Mr. Wishart--a gentleman of high character, I understand--is very positive. The young woman, too, appeared truthful and sincere. "

"Yes--it cannot be denied. Let me say also--for it is best to look atthe subject on its darkest side--I find, on looking over my letters, that my husband was staying with Mr. Angerstein at the time stated. Hewas also at that period in the Gloucestershire Yeomanry. I gave WilliamMartin, but the other day, a suit of his regimentals very little theworse for wear. "

"You forget to state, Rosamond, " said Miss Stewart, who was sittingbeside her niece, "that Martin, who was with his young master at Bath, iswilling to make oath that no such marriage took place as asserted, atSwindon church. "

"That alone would, I fear, my good madam, very little avail. Can I seeWilliam Martin?"

"Certainly. " The bell was rung, and the necessary order given. 

"This Martin is much changed for the better, I hear?"

"O yes, entirely so, " said Miss Stewart. "He is also exceedingly attachedto us all, the children especially; and his grief and anger, wheninformed of what had occurred, thoroughly attest his faithfulness andsincerity. "

Martin entered, and was, I thought, somewhat confused by my apparentlyunexpected presence. A look at his face and head dissipated ahalf-suspicion that had arisen in both Flint's mind and my own. 

I asked him a few questions relative to the sojourn of his masterat Bath, and then said, "I wish you to go with me and Bee thisMaria Emsbury. "

As I spoke, something seemed to attract Martin's attention in thestreet, and suddenly turning round, his arm swept a silver pastil-standoff the table. He stooped down to gather up the dispersed pastils, and ashe did so, said, in answer to my request, "that he had not the slightestobjection to do so. "

"That being the case, we will set off at once, as she and her friends areprobably at the office by this time. They are desirous of settling thematter off-hand, " I added with a smile, addressing Mrs. Allerton, "andavoiding, if possible, the delays and uncertainties of the law. "

As I anticipated, the formidable trio were with Mr. Flint. I introducedMartin, and as I did so, watched, with an anxiety I could hardly havegiven a reason for, the effect of his appearance upon the young woman. Iobserved nothing. He was evidently an utter stranger to her, although, from the involuntary flush which crossed his features, it occurred to methat he was in some way an accomplice with his deceased master in thecruel and infamous crime which had, I strongly feared, been perpetrated. 

"Was this person present at your marriage?" I asked. 

"Certainly not. But I think--now I look at him--that I have seen himsomewhere--about Swindon, it must have been. "

William Martin mumbled out that he had never been in Swindon; neither, hewas sure, had his master. 

"What is that?" said the girl, looking sharply up, and suddenlycoloring--"What is that?"

Martin, a good deal abashed, again mumbled out his belief that young Mr. Thorneycroft, as he was then called, had never been at Swindon. 

The indignant scarlet deepened on the young woman's face and temples, andshe looked at Martin with fixed attention and surprise. Presentlyrecovering, as if from some vague confusedness of mind, she said, "Whatyou _believe_, can be no consequence--truth is truth, for all that. "

The Rev. Mr. Wishart here interposed, remarking that as it was quiteapparent we were determined to defend the usurpation by Miss RosamondStewart--a lady to be greatly pitied, no doubt--of another's right, itwas useless to prolong or renew the interview; and all three tookimmediate leave. A few minutes afterward Martin also departed, stillvehemently asserting that no such marriage ever took place at Swindon oranywhere else. 

No stone, as people say, was left unturned by us, in the hope ofdiscovering some clue that might enable us to unravel the tangled web ofcoherent, yet, looking at the character of young Mr. Allerton, _improbable_ circumstance. We were unsuccessful, and unfortunately manyother particulars which came to light but deepened the adverse complexionof the case. Two respectable persons living at Swindon were ready todepose on oath that they had on more than one occasion seen MariaEmsbury's sweetheart with Mr. Angerstein at Bath--once especially at thetheatre, upon the benefit-night of the great Edmund Kean, who had beenplaying there for a few nights. 

The entire case, fully stated, was ultimately laid by us before eminentcounsel--one of whom is now, by the by, a chief-justice--and we wereadvised that the evidence as set forth by us could not be contendedagainst with any chance of success. This sad result was communicated byme to Mrs. Allerton, as she still unswervingly believed herself to be, and was borne with more constancy and firmness than I had expected. Herfaith in her husband's truth and honor was not in the slightest degreeshaken by the accumulated proofs. She would not, however, attempt toresist them before a court of law. Something would, she was confident, thereafter come to light that would vindicate the truth, and confiding inour zeal and watchfulness, she, her aunt, and children, would in themeantime shelter themselves from the gaze of the world in their formerretreat at Lausanne. 

This being the unhappy lady's final determination, I gave the other sidenotice that we should be ready on a given day to surrender possession ofthe house and effects in South Audley Street, which the WidowThorneycroft had given up to her supposed niece-in-law and family ontheir arrival in England, and to re-obtain which, and thereby decide thewhole question in dispute, legal proceedings had already been commenced. 

On the morning appointed for the purpose--having taken leave of theladies the day previously--I proceeded to South Audley Street, toformally give up possession, under protest, however. The niece and auntwere not yet gone. This, I found, was owing to Martin, who, according tothe ladies, was so beside himself with grief and rage that he had beenunable to expedite as he ought to have done, the packing intrusted to hiscare. I was vexed at this, as the Widow Thorneycroft, her protégée, andthe Rev. Mr. Wishart, accompanied by a solicitor, were shortly expected;and it was desirable that a meeting of the antagonistic parties should beavoided. I descended to the lower regions to remonstrate with and hurryMartin, and found, as I feared, that his former evil habits had returnedupon him. It was not yet twelve o'clock, and he was already partiallyintoxicated, and pale, trembling, and nervous from the effects, it wasclear to me, of the previous night's debauch. 

"Your mistress is grossly deceived in you!" I angrily exclaimed; "and ifmy advice were taken, you would be turned out of the house at oncewithout a character. There, don't attempt to bamboozle me with thatnonsense; I've seen fellows crying drunk before now. "

He stammered out some broken excuses, to which I very impatientlylistened; and so thoroughly muddled did his brain appear, that he eithercould not or would not comprehend the possibility of Mrs. Allerton andher children being turned out of house and home, as he expressed it, andover and over again asked me if nothing could yet be done to prevent it. I was completely disgusted with the fellow, and sharply bidding himhasten his preparations for departure, rejoined the ladies, who were bythis time assembled in the back drawing-room, ready shawled and bonnetedfor their journey. It was a sad sight. Rosamond Stewart's splendid facewas shadowed by deep and bitter grief, borne, it is true, with pride andfortitude; but it was easy to see its throbbing pulsations through allthe forced calmness of the surface. Her aunt, of a weaker nature, sobbedloudly in the fullness of her grief; and the children, shrinkinginstinctively in the chilling atmosphere of a great calamity, clung, trembling and half-terrified, the eldest especially, to their mother. Idid not insult them with phrases of condolence, but turned theconversation, if such it could be called, upon their future home andprospects in Switzerland. Some time had thus elapsed when my combativepropensities were suddenly aroused by the loud dash of a carriage to thedoor, and the peremptory rat-tat-tat which followed. I felt my cheekflame as I said, "They demand admittance as if in possession of anassured, decided right. It is not yet too late to refuse possession, andtake the chances of the law's uncertainty. "

Mrs. Allerton shook her head with decisive meaning. "I could not bearit, " she said in a tone of sorrowful gentleness. "But I trust we shallnot be intruded upon. "

I hurried out of the apartment, and met the triumphant claimants. Iexplained the cause of the delay, and suggested that Mrs. Thorneycroftand her friends could amuse themselves in the garden whilst thesolicitor and I ran over the inventory of the chief valuables to besurrendered together. 

This was agreed to. A minute or two before the conclusion of thisnecessary formality, I received a message from the ladies, expressive ofa wish to be gone at once, if I would escort them to the hotel; andMartin, who was nowhere to be found, could follow. I hastened to complywith their wishes; and we were just about to issue from the frontdrawing-room, into which we had passed through the folding-doors, when wewere confronted by the widow and her party, who had just reached thelanding of the great staircase. We drew back in silence. The mutualconfusion into which we were thrown caused a momentary hesitation only, and we were passing on when the butler suddenly appeared. 

"A gentleman, " he said, "an officer, is at the door, who wishes to see aMiss Maria Emsbury, formerly of Swindon. "

I stared at the man, discerned a strange expression in his face, and it glanced across me at the same moment that I had heard noknock at the door. 

"See Miss Emsbury!" exclaimed the Widow Thorneycroft, recovering herspeech--"there is no such person here!"

"Pardon me, madam, " I cried, catching eagerly at the interruption, as adrowning man is said to do at a straw--"this young person _was_ at leastMiss Emsbury. Desire the officer to walk up. " The butler vanishedinstantly, and we all huddled back disorderly into the drawing-room, someone closing the door after us. I felt the grasp of Mrs. Allerton's armtighten convulsively round mine, and her breath I heard, came quick andshort. I was hardly less agitated myself. 

Steps--slow and deliberate steps--were presently heard ascending thestairs, the door opened, and in walked a gentleman in the uniform of ayeomanry officer, whom at the first glance I could have sworn to be thedeceased Mr. Henry Allerton. A slight exclamation of terror escaped Mrs. Allerton, followed by a loud hysterical scream from the Swindon youngwoman, as she staggered forward towards the stranger, exclaiming, "Oh, merciful God!--my husband!" and then fell, overcome with emotion, in hisoutstretched arms. 

"Yes, " said the Rev. Mr. Wishart promptly, "that is certainly thegentleman I united to Maria Emsbury. What can be the meaning ofthis scene?"

"Is that sufficient, Mr. Sharp?" exclaimed the officer, in a voice thatremoved all doubt. 

"Quite, quite, " I shouted--"more than enough!"

"Very well, then, " said William Martin, dashing off his black curlingwig, removing his whiskers of the same color, and giving his own light, but now cropped head of hair and clean-shaved cheeks to view. "Now, then, send for the police, and let them transport me--I richly merit it. Imarried this young woman in a false name; I robbed her of her money, andI deserve the hulks, if anybody ever did. "

You might have heard a pin drop in the apartment whilst the repentantrascal thus spoke; and when he ceased, Mrs. Allerton, unable to bear upagainst the tumultuous emotion which his words excited, sank withoutbreath or sensation upon a sofa. Assistance was summoned; and whilst theas yet imperfectly-informed servants were running from one to anotherwith restoratives, I had leisure to look around. The Widow Thorneycroft, who had dropped into a chair, sat gazing in bewildered dismay upon thestranger, who still held her lately-discovered niece-in-law in his arms;and I could see the hot perspiration which had gathered on her brow runin large drops down the white channels which they traced through thethick rouge of her cheeks. But the reader's fancy will supply the bestimage of this unexpected and extraordinary scene. I cleared the house ofintruders and visitors as speedily as possible, well assured that matterswould now adjust themselves without difficulty. 

And so it proved. Martin was not sent to the hulks, though no questionthat he amply deserved a punishment as great as that. The self-sacrifice, as he deemed it, which he at last made, pleaded for him, and so did hispretty-looking wife; and the upshot was, that the mistaken bride's dowrywas restored, with something over, and that a tavern was taken for themin Piccadilly--the White Bear, I think it was--where they livedcomfortably and happily, I have heard, for a considerable time, andhaving considerably added to their capital, removed to a hotel of ahigher grade in the city, where they now reside. It was not at allsurprising that the clergyman and others had been deceived. The disguise, and Martin's imitative talent, might have misled persons on their guard, much more men unsuspicious of deception. The cast in the eyes, as well asa general resemblance of features, also of course greatly aided theimposture. 

Of Mrs. Rosamond Allerton, I have only to say, for it is all I know, thatshe is rich, unwedded, and still splendidly beautiful, though of coursesomewhat _passé_ compared with herself twenty years since. Happy, too, Ihave no doubt she is, judging from the placid brightness of her aspectthe last time I saw her beneath the transept of the Crystal Palace, onthe occasion of its opening by the Queen. I remember wondering at thetime, if she often recalled to mind the passage in her life which I havehere recorded. 

THE ONE BLACK SPOT. 

On the evening of a bleak, cold March day, in an early year of thiscentury, a woman, scantily clad, led a boy about eight years old, alongthe high-road towards the old city of Exeter. They crept close to thehedge-side to shelter themselves from the clouds of dust, which thesudden gusts of east wind blew in their faces. 

They had walked many miles, and the boy limped painfully. He often lookedup anxiously into his mother's face, and asked if they had much fartherto go? She scarcely appeared to notice his inquiries; her fixed eyes andsunken cheek gave evidence that sorrow absorbed all her thoughts. When hespoke, she drew him closer to her side, but made no reply; until, atlength, the child, wondering at her silence, began to sob. She stoppedand looked at her child for a moment, her eyes filled with tears. Theyhad gained the top of a hill, from which was visible in the distance, thedark massive towers of the cathedral and the church-spires of the city;she pointed them out, and said, "We shall soon be there, Ned. " Then, sitting down on a tree that was felled by the road-side, she took "Ned"on her lap, and, bending over him, wept aloud. 

"Are you very tired, mother?" said the boy, trying to comfort her. "'Tisa long way--but don't cry--we shall see father when we come there. "

"Yes--you will see your father once more. "

She checked herself; and, striving to dry her tears, sat lookingwistfully towards the place of her destination. 

The tramp of horses, coming up the hill they had just ascended, drew theboy's attention to that direction. In a moment he had sprung from hismother, and was shouting, with child-like delight, at the appearance of agay cavalcade which approached. About thirty men on horseback, in crimsonliveries, surrounded two carriages, one of which contained two of HisMajesty's Judges, accompanied by the High Sheriff of the county, who, with his javelin-men, was conducting them to the city, in which the LentAssizes were about to be held. 

The woman knelt until the carriages and the gaudy javelin-men had turnedthe corner at the foot of a hill, and were no longer visible; with herhands clasped together, she had prayed to God to temper with mercy theheart of the Judge, before whom her unfortunate husband, now in jail, would have to stand his trial. Then, taking the boy again by thehand--unable to explain to him what he had seen--she pursued her way withhim, silently, along the dusty road. 

As they drew nearer to the city, they overtook various groups ofstragglers, who had deemed it their duty, in spite of the inclementweather to wander some miles out of the city to catch an early glimpse of"My Lord Judge, " and the gay Sheriff's officers. Troops, also, ofitinerant ballad-singers, rope-dancers, mountebanks, and caravans of wildbeasts, still followed the Judges, as they had done throughout thecircuit. "Walk more slowly, Ned, " said the mother, checking the boy'sdesire to follow the shows. "I am very tired; let us rest a little here. "They lingered until the crowd was far ahead of them--and were left aloneon the road. 

Late in the evening, as the last stragglers were returning home, thewayfarers found themselves in the suburbs of the city, and the forlornwoman looked around anxiously for a lodging. She feared the noisy peoplein the streets; and, turning timidly towards an old citizen who stood byhis garden-gate, chatting to his housekeeper, and watching thepassers-by--there was a kindness in his look which gave herconfidence--so, with a homely courtesy, she ventured to inquire of himwhere she might find a decent resting-place. 

"Have you never been here before?" he asked. 

"Never but once, sir, when I was a child, many years ago. "

"What part of the country do you come from?"

"Uffeulme. "

"Uffeulme? How did you get here?"

"We have walked. "

"You don't say that you have trudged all the way with that youngster?"

The housekeeper drowned the reply by loudly announcing to the oldgentleman that his supper was waiting--"We have no lodgings, my goodwoman, " she said, turning away from the gate. 

"Stop, Martha, stop, " said the citizen. "Can't we direct themsomewhere?--you see they are strangers. I wonder where they could geta lodging?"

"I am sure I don't know, " replied Martha, peevishly; "your supper will becold--come in!"

"We've had no supper, " said the boy. 

"Poor little fellow!" said the old gentleman; "then I am sure you shallnot go without. Martha, the bread and cheese!" And, opening thegarden-gate, he made the travelers enter and sit down in thesummer-house, whilst he went to fetch them a draught of cider. 

In spite of Martha's grumbling, he managed to get a substantial repast;but it grieved him that the woman, though she thanked him very gratefullyand humbly, appeared unable to eat. 

"Your boy eats heartily, " said he, "but I am afraid you don't enjoy it. "

With a choking utterance she thanked him, but could not eat. 

The good old man was striving, as well as he could, to explain tothem their way to a part of the city, where they might find alodging, when the garden-gate opened, and a young man gave to thehost a hearty greeting. 

At the sound of his voice, the cup the woman held in her hand, fell tothe ground. This drew the youth's attention to her; he looked earnestlyat her for a moment, and with an exclamation of surprise, said, "Why, this is Susan Harvey?"

The woman hid her face in her hands, and moaned. 

"Do you know her, then, Alfred?" said the uncle. 

"She nursed me when I was a little sickly boy, " replied the youth; "shelived many years in my father's house. "

"Then I am sure you will take her to some lodging to-night, for she isquite a stranger here. There is Martha calling to me again; she is notin the best temper to-night, so I had better go in, and I leave them toyour care. "

"Oh! tell me, Mr. Gray, have you seen him?" cried the woman eagerly. 

"I have been with him to-day, Susan, " said Gray, kindly taking herhand--"do not be cast down; all that can be done for Martin, shall bedone. Let me take you where you can rest to-night, and to-morrow you canbe with him. "

The weary little boy had fallen asleep on the seat; the mother strove toarouse him, but Alfred Gray prevented her, by taking the little fellowin his arms. He carried him by her side through the streets; she couldutter no words of gratitude, but her tears flowed fast, and told how theyoung man's sympathy had fallen like balm upon her wounded heart. "Godhas taken pity on me, " she said, when they parted. 

With a quick step Alfred regained his uncle's cottage; he had adifficult task to accomplish. Martin Harvey, now awaiting his trial forpoaching, and for being concerned in an affray with Sir George Roberts'game-keepers, had once been his father's apprentice. Young Gray hadbeen endeavoring to procure for him all the legal help which the lawsthen allowed; but his own means were limited, and, when he met Susanand her boy in the garden, he had come to visit his uncle to ask hisassistance. He had now returned on the same errand. He pleadedearnestly, and with caution, but was repulsed. It was in vain he urgedthe poverty of agricultural laborers at that season, and the temptationwhich an abundance of game afforded to half-starved men and theirwretched families. 

"Nonsense, Alfred!" said old Mr. Gray. "I would not grudge you the moneyif you did not want it for a bad purpose. You must not excuse men who goout with guns and fire at their fellow-creatures in the dark. "

"Martin did not fire, uncle--that is what I want to prove, and save him, if I can, from transportation. He has a wife and child. "

"Wife and child!" repeated the old man thoughtfully. "You did not tell mehe had a wife and child; that poor woman came from Uffeulme. "

"Providence must have guided her, " said the younger Gray. "It was indeedHarvey's wife and son whom you so lately relieved. "

"You shall have the money. I have all through life prayed that my heartmay not be hardened; and I find, old as I am, that, every day I havefresh lessons to learn. "

The next morning, while Alfred held anxious consultation with thelawyers, the wife and husband met within the prison walls. They sattogether in silence, for neither could speak a single word of hope. Theboy never forgot that long and dreary day, during which he watched, withwondering thoughts, the sad faces of his ruined parents. 

The Crown Court of the Castle was next morning crowded to overflowing. Among the struggling crowd that vainly sought to gain admission, wasMartin Harvey's wife. She was rudely repulsed by the door-keepers, who"wondered what women wanted in such places. " She still strove to keep herground, and watched with piteous looks the doors of the court. She bravedthe heat and pressure for some time; but a sickly faintness at lengthcame over her. She was endeavoring to retreat into the open air, when shefelt some one touch her shoulder, and turning, saw Alfred Gray making hisway toward her. After a moment's pause in the cool air, he led her roundto a side-door, through which there was a private entrance into thecourt. He whispered a word to an officer, who admitted them, and pointedto a seat behind the dock, where they were screened from observation, andwhere the woman could see her husband standing between his twofellow-prisoners. 

The prisoners were listening anxiously to the evidence which theprincipal game-keeper was offering against them. The first, a man aboutsixty, excited greater interest than the others. He earnestly attended towhat was going on, but gave no sign of fear, as to the result. Brushingback his gray locks, he gazed round the court, with something like asmile. This man's life had been a strange one. Early in his career hehad been ejected from a farm which he had held under the father of thepresent prosecutor, Sir George Roberts; he soon after lost what littleproperty had been left him, and, in despair enlisted--was sent abroadwith his regiment--and for many years shared in the toils andachievements of our East Indian warfare. Returning home on a smallpension, he fixed his abode in his native village, and sought to indulgehis old enmity against the family that had injured him by every kind ofannoyance in his power. The present baronet, a narrow-minded tyrannicalman, afforded by his unpopularity good opportunity to old Ralph Somers toinduce others to join him in his schemes of mischief and revenge. "Thegame, " which was plentiful on the estate, and the preservation of whichwas Sir George's chief delight, formed the principal object of attack;the poverty of the laborers tempted them to follow the old soldier, whomanaged affairs so warily, that for nine years he had been an object ofthe utmost terror and hatred to Sir George and his keepers, whilst alltheir efforts to detect and capture him had, until now, been fruitless. 

Martin Harvey, who stood by his side with his shattered arm in a sling, bore marks of acute mental suffering and remorse; but his countenance wasstamped with its original, open, manly expression--a face often to beseen among a group of English farm laborers, expressive of a warm heart, full of both courage and kindness. 

The evidence was soon given. The game-keepers, on the night of the 24thof February, were apprised that poachers were in the plantations. Takingwith them a stronger force than usual, all well-armed, they discoveredthe objects of their search, in a lane leading out into the fields, andshouted to them to surrender. They distinctly saw their figures flyingbefore them, and when they approached them, one of the fugitives turnedround and fired, wounding one of the keepers' legs with a quantity ofsmall shot. The keeper immediately fired in return, and brought down apoacher; old Ralph's voice was heard shouting to them to desist, and uponcoming up they found him standing by the side of Martin Harvey, who hadfallen severely wounded. Three guns lay by them, one of which had beendischarged, but no one could swear who had fired it; search was made allnight for the other man, but without success. 

When the prisoners were called on for their defence, they looked at oneanother for a moment as if neither wished to speak first; Ralph, however, began. He had little to say. Casting a look of defiance at Sir George andhis lady, who sat in a side-gallery above the court, he freely confessedthat hatred to the man who had injured him in his youth, and who hadtreated him with harshness on his return from abroad, had been the motiveof his encouraging and aiding in these midnight depredations; heexpressed sorrow for having occasioned trouble to his neighbor Harvey. "What I can say will be of little use to me here, " said Martin Harvey, ina hollow voice; "I am ruined, beyond redress; but I was a very poor manwhen I first joined, with others, in snaring game; I often wanted bread, and saw my wife and child pinched for food also. The rich people say gamebelongs to them; but--well--all I can say more is, that I take God towitness I never lifted a murderous gun against my fellow-man; he who didit has escaped; and I have suffered this broken limb--but that I don'tmind--I have worse than that to bear--I have broken my wife's heart, andmy child will be left an orphan. "

His voice failed. There was an uneasy movement among the audience: anda lady, who had been leaning over the rails of the side-gallerylistening with deep attention, fainted, and was carried out of court. The prisoner's pale wife, who had bowed her head behind him in silentendurance, heard a whisper among the bystanders that it was LadyRoberts, and a hope entered her mind that the lady's tender heart mightfeel for them. 

"Have you any witnesses to call?" asked the Judge. 

Martin looked round with a vacant gaze; the attorney whispered to him, and beckoned to Alfred Gray. 

Alfred went into the witness-box, and told of the honesty, sobriety, andgood conduct of Martin Harvey, during all the years he was in hisfather's house--"He was there before I was born, " said the young man, "and only left when I was obliged to leave also, sixteen years after. Abetter man never broke bread--he was beloved by every body who knew him. Till now his character was never tainted. It's the one black spot. "

The Judge commenced summing up; it was evident to all who had paidattention to the evidence, that the conviction of two of the prisonerswas certain. Alfred Gray knew this, and strove to induce the wife toleave with him before the fatal close of proceedings; but she shook herhead and would not go. "I shall have strength to bear it, " she said. 

He sat down by her side, and heard the fearful verdict of "guilty"pronounced against her husband and Ralph Somers; and then the dreadeddoom of transportation for life awarded to them. As they turned to leavethe dock, Martin looked down upon the crushed and broken-hearted beingwhom he had sworn to protect and cherish through life, and in spite ofevery effort to repress it, a cry of agony burst from his lips; it wasanswered by a fainter sound, and Alfred Gray lifted the helpless, lifeless woman from the ground, and carried her into the open air. 

Months passed; and on the day when the convict ship, with its freight ofheavy hearts, began its silent course over the greatwaters, the widowedwife took her fatherless child by the hand, and again traversed the wearyroad which led them to their desolated home. 

The kindness of the Grays had supplied a few immediate necessaries. Someone had told her of women having, by the aid of friends, managed to meettheir husbands once more in those distant parts of the earth; and thisknowledge once in her agitated mind, raised a hope which inspired her topursue her daily task without fainting, and to watch an opportunity ofmaking an attempt which she had meditated, even during that dreadful dayof Martin's trial. She resolved to seek admission into Sir GeorgeRoberts' mansion, and appeal to the pity of his wife. It was told in thevillage that Lady Roberts had implored her husband to interpose in behalfof the men; that his angry and passionate refusal had caused a breachbetween them; that they had lived unhappily ever since; that he hadstrictly forbidden any one to mention the subject, or to convey to LadyRoberts any remarks that were made in the neighborhood. 

Susan Harvey trembled when she entered the mansion, and timidly askedleave to speak to Lady Roberts. 

The servant she addressed had known her husband, and pitied her distress;and, fearing lest Sir George might pass, he led her into his pantry, watching an opportunity to let the lady know of her being there. 

After a time Lady Roberts' maid came, and beckoned her to followup-stairs. In a few moments the soft voice of the lady of the mansion wascheering her with kind words, and encouraging her to disclose her wishes. 

Before she had concluded, a step was heard without, at which the ladystarted and turned pale. Before there was time for retreat Sir Georgehastily entered the apartment. 

"Who have you here, Lady Roberts?"

"One who has a request to make, I believe, " said the lady, mildly. "Iwish a few moments with her. "

"Have the goodness to walk out of this house, " said the baronet to Susan. "Lady Roberts, I know this woman and I will not allow you to harbor suchpeople here. "

Although the convict's wife never again ventured into that house, herwants, and those of her child, were, during three years, ministered to bythe secret agency of the Good Heart that lived so sadly there; and when, at the expiration of that period, Lady Roberts died, a trusty messengerbrought to the cottage a little legacy--sufficient, if ever news came ofMartin, to enable the wife and child, from whom he was separated, to maketheir way across the earth, and to meet him again. 

But during those weary years no tidings of his fate had reached eitherhis wife or Alfred Gray--to whom he had promised to write when he reachedhis destination. Another year dragged its slow course over the home ofaffliction, and poor Susan's hopes grew fainter day by day. Her sinkingframe gave evidence of the sickness that cometh from the heart. 

One summer evening, in the next year, Alfred Gray, entered his uncle'sgarden with a letter, and was soon seated in the summer-house reading italoud to his uncle and Martha. Tears stood in the old man's eyes, as sometouching detail of suffering or privation was related. And, indeed, theletter told of little beside. It was from Martin. Soon after his arrivalin the settlement, Martin had written to Alfred, but the letter had neverreached England--not an unusual occurrence in those times. After waitinglong, and getting no reply, he was driven by harsh treatment, and thedegradation attending the life he led, to attempt, with old Ralph, anescape from the settlement. In simple language, he recorded the drearylife they led in the woods; how, after a time, old Ralph sickened anddied; and how, in a desolate place, where the footsteps of man had, perhaps, never trod before, Martin Harvey had dug a grave, and buried hisold companion. After that, unable to endure the terrible solitude, he hadsought his way back to his former master, and had been treated moreharshly than before. Fever and disease had wasted his frame, until he hadprayed that he might die and be at rest; but God had been merciful tohim, and had inclined the heart of one for whom he labored, who listenedwith compassion to his story, took him under his roof, and restored himto health. And now, Martin had obtained a ticket of leave, and served hiskind master for wages, which he was carefully hoarding to send to AlfredGray, as soon as he should hear from him that those he loved were stillpreserved, and would come and embrace him once more in that distant land. 

"They shall go at once, Alfred, " said old Mr. Gray, the moment the lastsentence was read; "they shall not wait; we will provide themeans--hey, Martha?"

He did not now fear to appeal to his companion. Martha had grown kinderof late, and she confessed she had learned of her cousin what gives mostcomfort to those who are drawing near their journey's end. "I can helpthem a little, " she said. 

"We will all help a little, " Alfred replied. "I shall be off at break ofday to-morrow, on neighbor Collins's pony, and shall give him no restuntil he sets me down at Uffeulme. "

Accordingly, early next morning, Alfred Gray was riding briskly alongthrough the pleasant green lanes which led toward his native village. Itwas the middle of June, bright, warm, sunny weather; and the young man'sspirits was unusually gay, everything around him tending to heighten thedelight which the good news he carried had inspired him with. The ponystepped out bravely, and was only checked when Alfred came in sight ofthe dear old home of his childhood, and heard the well-known chimescalling the villagers to their morning service, for it was Sunday. Thenfor a few moments the young man proceeded more slowly, and hiscountenance wore a more saddened look, as the blessed recollections ofearly loves and affections with which the scene was associated in hismind, claimed their power over all other thoughts. The voice of an oldfriend, from an apple-orchard hard by, recalled him from his reveries. 

He shook hands through the hedge. "I will come and see you in theevening, Fred. I must hasten on now. She will go to church this morning, and I must go with her. "

"Who?" asked the other. 

Alfred pointed to the cottage where Susan Harvey dwelt. "I bring her goodnews--I have a letter. Martin is living and well. "

The friend shook his head. 

Alfred dismounted, and walked towards Susan Harvey's cottage. The doorwas closed, and when he looked through the window he could see no oneinside. He lifted the latch softly and entered. There was no one there;but his entrance had been heard, and a moment after, a fine stout ladcame out of the inner chamber, took Alfred's proffered hand, and inanswer to his inquiries, burst into tears. 

"She says she cannot live long, sir; but she told me last night, thatbefore she died, you would come and tell us news of father. She has beensaying all the past week that we should hear from him soon. "

Whilst the boy spoke, Alfred heard a weak voice, calling his name fromthe inner room. 

"Go in, " he said, "and tell her I am here. "

The boy did so, and then beckoned him to enter. 

Susan's submissive features were but little changed, from the time whenher husband was taken from her; but the weak and wasted form that stroveto raise itself in vain, as Alfred approached the bed-side, too plainlyrevealed that the struggle was drawing to a close--that the time of restwas at hand. 

"Thank God, you are come, " she said; "you have heard from him? Tell mequickly, for my time is short. "

"I come to tell you good news, Susan. You may yet be restored to him. "

"I shall not see Martin in this world again, Mr. Gray; but I shall closemy eyes in peace. If you know where he is, and can tell me that my boyshall go and be with him, and tell him how, through these long wearyyears, we loved him, and thought of him, and prayed for him--" Here shebroke off, and beckoned the boy to her. She held his hands within herown, whilst Alfred Gray read from the letter all that would comfort her. 

When he had done, she said, "God will bless you--you have been very goodto us in our misery. Now, will you promise me one thing more? Will yousend my boy to his father, when I am gone?"

The promise was made; and the boy knelt long by her bedside, listeningto the words of love and consolation which, with her latest breath, sheuttered for the sake of him who, she hoped, would hear them again fromhis child's lips. 

 * * * * *

Nearly forty years have passed since they laid her among the graves ofthe humble villagers of Uffeulme. Few remain now who remember her storyor her name--but, on the other side of the world, amid scenery allunlike to that in which she dwelt, there stands a cheerful settler'shome, and under the shadow of tall acacia trees which surround thelittle garden in which some few English flowers are blooming, there aresitting, in the cool of the summer evening, a group whose faces are allof the Anglo-Saxon mould. A happy looking couple, in the prime of life, are there, with children playing around them; and one little gentlegirl, they call Susan, is sitting on the knee of an aged, white-hairedman, looking lovingly into his face, and wondering why his eye sowatches the setting sun every night, as it sinks behind the blue watersin the distance. Two tall, handsome lads, with guns on their shoulders, enter the garden, and hasten to show the old man the fruits of theirday's exploits. 

"We have been lucky to-day, grandfather, " says the younger; "but Alfredsays these birds are not like the birds in old England. "

"You should hear the sailors talk about the game in England, Martin, "replies the brother. 

"Grandfather has told us all about England, except the 'birds. ' He thinkswe should run away, if he were to describe them. "

The old man looks steadily at the boys for a moment, and his eyes fillwith tears. "It is a glorious land, " he says, with a faltering voice; "itis our country; but, Alfred, Martin, you will never leave this happy hometo go there. Birds there are the rich man's property, and you would notdare carry those guns of yours over English ground. If ever you go there, your father will tell you where there is a church-yard--and among thegraves of the poor, there is one--"

He stopped, for Edward Harvey came to the place where his father sat, andtook his trembling hand within his own; the boys obeyed their mother'ssignal, and followed her into the house; the two men remained sittingtogether, until the silent stars came out. 

Then the aged man, leaning on his son's arm, rejoined the family at thesupper-table--and the peace of God rested on the solitary home. EdwardHarvey had faithfully kept within his heart, the memory of his mother'sdying commands. 

Martin, his father, had nobly effaced the one Black Spot. 

THE GENTLEMAN BEGGAR. 

One morning, about five years ago, I called by appointment on Mr. JohnBalance, the fashionable pawnbroker, to accompany him to Liverpool, inpursuit of a Levanting customer--for Balance, in addition to pawning, does a little business in the sixty per cent. Line. It rained in torrentswhen the cab stopped at the passage which leads past the pawning-boxes tohis private door. The cabman rang twice, and at length Balance appeared, looming through the mist and rain in the entry, illuminated by hisperpetual cigar. As I eyed him rather impatiently, remembering thattrains wait for no man, something like a hairy dog, or a bundle of rags, rose up at his feet, and barred his passage for a moment. Then Balancecried out with an exclamation, in answer apparently to a something Icould not hear, "What, man alive!--slept in the passage!--there, takethat, and get some breakfast, for Heaven's sake!" So saying, he jumpedinto the "Hansom, " and we bowled away at ten miles an hour, just catchingthe Express as the doors of the station were closing. My curiosity wasfull set--for although Balance can be free with his money, it is notexactly to beggars that his generosity is usually displayed; so whencomfortably ensconced in a _coupé_ I finished with--

"You are liberal with your money this morning; pray, how often do yougive silver to street-cadgers?--because I shall know now what walk totake when flats and sharps leave off buying law. "

Balance, who would have made an excellent parson if he had not been bredto a case-hardening trade, and has still a soft bit left in his heartthat is always fighting with his hard head, did not smile at all, butlooked as grim as if squeezing a lemon into his Saturday night's punch. He answered slowly, "A cadger--yes; a beggar--a miserable wretch, he isnow; but, let me tell you, Master David, that that miserable bundle ofrags was born and bred a gentleman--the son of a nobleman, the husband ofan heiress, and has sat and dined at tables where you and I, MasterDavid, are only allowed to view the plate by favor of the butler. I havelent him thousands, and been well paid. The last thing I had from him washis court-suit; and I hold now his bill for one hundred pounds that willbe paid, I expect, when he dies. "

"Why, what nonsense you are talking! you must be dreaming this morning. However, we are alone; I'll light a weed, in defiance of Railway-law, while you spin that yarn; for, true or untrue, it will fill up the timeto Liverpool. "

"As for yarn, " replied Balance, "the whole story is short enough; and asfor truth, that you may easily find out if you like to take the trouble. I thought the poor wretch was dead, and I own it put me out meeting himthis morning, for I had a curious dream last night. "

"Oh, hang your dreams! Tell us about this gentleman beggar that bleedsyou of half-crowns--that melts the heart even of a pawnbroker!"

"Well, then, that beggar is the illegitimate son of the late Marquis ofHoopborough by a Spanish lady of rank. He received a first rateeducation, and was brought up in his father's house. At a very early agehe obtained an appointment in a public office, was presented by themarquis at court, and received into the first society, where his handsomeperson and agreeable manners made him a great favorite. Soon after comingof age, he married the daughter of Sir E. Bumper, who brought him a veryhandsome fortune, which was strictly settled on herself. They lived insplendid style, kept several carriages, a house in town, and a place inthe country. For some reason or other, idleness, or to please his lady'spride he said, he resigned his appointment. His father died, and left himnothing; indeed, he seemed at that time very handsomely provided for. 

"Very soon Mr. And Mrs. Molinos Fitz-Roy began to disagree. She was cold, correct--he was hot and random. He was quite dependent on her, and shemade him feel it. When he began to get into debt, he came to me. Atlength some shocking quarrel occurred--some case of jealousy on thewife's side, not without reason, I believe; and the end of it was, Mr. Fitz-Roy was turned out of doors. The house was his wife's, the furniturewas his wife's, and the fortune was his wife's--he was, in fact, herpensioner. He left with a few hundred pounds ready money, and somepersonal jewelry, and went to a hotel. On these and credit he lived. Being illegitimate, he had no relations--being a fool, when he spent hismoney, he lost his friends. The world took his wife's part, when theyfound she had the fortune, and the only parties who interfered were herrelatives, who did their best to make the quarrel incurable. To crownall, one night he was run over by a cab, was carried to a hospital, andlay there for months, and was, during several weeks of the time, unconscious. A message to the wife, by the hands of one of his debauchedcompanions, sent by a humane surgeon, obtained an intimation that 'if hedied, Mr. Croak, the undertaker to the family, had orders to see to thefuneral, ' and that Mrs. Molinos was on the point of starting for theContinent, not to return for some years. When Fitz-Roy was discharged, hecame to me, limping on two sticks, to pawn his court-suit, and told mehis story. I was really sorry for the fellow--such a handsome, thoroughbred-looking man. He was going then into the west somewhere, totry to hunt out a friend. 'What to do, Balance, ' he said, 'I don't know. I can't dig, and unless somebody will make me their gamekeeper, I muststarve, or beg, as my Jezebel bade me, when we parted!'

"I lost sight of Molinos for a long time, and when I next came upon himit was in the Rookery of Westminster, in a low lodging-house, where I wassearching with an officer for stolen goods. He was pointed out to me asthe 'gentleman-cadger, ' because he was so free with his money when 'inluck. ' He recognized me, but turned away then. I have since seen him, andrelieved him more than once, although he never asks for anything. How helives, Heaven knows. Without money, without friends, without usefuleducation of any kind, he tramps the country, as you saw him, perhapsdoing a little hop-picking or hay-making, in season, only happy when heobtains the means to get drunk. I have heard through the kitchen whispersthat you know come to me, that he is entitled to some property; and Iexpect if he were to die his wife would pay the hundred pound bill Ihold; at any rate, what I have told you I know to be true, and the bundleof rags I relieved just now is known in every thieves' lodging in Englandas the 'gentleman cadger. '"

This story produced an impression on me: I am fond of speculation, andlike the excitement of a legal hunt as much as some do a fox-chase. Agentleman, a beggar--a wife rolling in wealth--rumors of unknown propertydue to the husband;--it seemed as if there were pickings for me amidstthis carrion of pauperism. 

Before returning from Liverpool, I had purchased the gentleman beggar'sacceptance from Balance. I then inserted in the "Times" the followingadvertisement: "_Horatio Molinos Fitz-Roy_. --If this gentleman will applyto David Discount, Esq. , Solicitor, St. James's, he will hear ofsomething to his advantage. Any person furnishing Mr. R's correctaddress, shall receive £1 1s. Reward. He was last seen, " &c. Withintwenty-four hours I had ample proof of the wide circulation of the"Times. " My office was besieged with beggars of every degree, men andwomen, lame and blind, Irish, Scotch, and English--some on crutches, somein bowls, some in go-carts. They all knew him as "the gentleman, " and Imust do the regular fraternity of tramps the justice to say, that not onewould answer a question until he made certain that I meant the"gentleman" no harm. 

One evening, about three weeks after the appearance of the advertisement, my clerk announced "another beggar. " There came in an old man leaningupon a staff, clad in a soldier's greatcoat, all patched and torn, with abattered hat, from under which a mass of tangled hair fell over hisshoulders and half concealed his face. The beggar, in a weak, wheezy, hesitating tone, said, "You have advertized for Molinos Fitz-Roy. I hopeyou don't mean him any harm; he is sunk, I think, too low for enmity now;and surely no one would sport with such misery as his. " These last wordswere uttered in a sort of piteous whisper. 

I answered quickly, "Heaven forbid I should sport with misery--I mean andhope to do him good, as well as myself. "

"Then, sir, I am Molinos Fitz-Roy!"

While we were conversing candles had been brought in. I have not verytender nerves--my head would not agree with them--but I own I started andshuddered when I saw and knew that the wretched creature before me wasunder thirty years of age, and once a gentleman. Sharp, aquilinefeatures, reduced to literal skin and bone, were begrimed and coveredwith dry fair hair; the white teeth of the half-open mouth chattered witheagerness, and made more hideous the foul pallor of the rest of thecountenance. As he stood leaning on a staff half bent, his long, yellowbony fingers clasped over the crutch-head of his stick, he was indeed apicture of misery, famine, squalor, and premature age, too horrible todwell upon. I made him sit down, sent for some refreshment which hedevoured like a ghoul, and set to work to unravel his story. It wasdifficult to keep him to the point; but with pains I learned whatconvinced me that he was entitled to some property, whether great orsmall there was no evidence. On parting, I said, "Now, Mr. F, you muststay in town while I make proper inquiries. What allowance will be enoughto keep you comfortably?"

He answered humbly after much pressing, "Would you think ten shillingstoo much?"

I don't like, if I do those things at all, to do them shabbily--so Isaid, "Come every Saturday and you shall have a pound. " He was profuse inthanks, of course, as all such men are as long as distress lasts. 

I had previously learned that my ragged client's wife was in England, living in a splendid house in Hyde Park Gardens, under her maiden name. On the following day the Earl of Owing called upon me, wanting fivethousand pounds by five o'clock the same evening. It was a case of lifeor death with him, so I made my terms and took advantage of his pressureto execute a _coup de main. _ I proposed that he should drive me home toreceive the money, calling at Mrs. Molinos in Hyde Park Gardens, on ourway. I knew that the coronet and liveries of his father, the Marquis, would ensure me an audience with Mrs. Molinos Fitz-Roy. 

My scheme answered. I was introduced into the lady's presence. She was, and probably is, a very stately, handsome woman, with a pale complexion, high solid forehead, regular features, thin, pinched, self-satisfiedmouth. My interview was very short. I plunged into the middle of theaffair, but had scarcely mentioned the word _husband_, when sheinterrupted me with, "I presume you have lent this profligate personmoney, and want me to pay you. " She paused, and then said, "He shall nothave a farthing. " As she spoke, her white face became scarlet. 

"But, Madam, the man is starving. I have strong reasons for believing heis entitled to property, and if you refuse any assistance, I must takeother measures. " She rang the bell, wrote something rapidly on a card, and, as the footman appeared, pushed it towards me across the table, withthe air of touching a toad, saying, "There, sir, is the address of mysolicitors; apply to them if you think you have any claim. Robert, showthe person out, and take care he is not admitted again. "

So far I had effected nothing; and, to tell the truth, felt rathercrest-fallen under the influence of that grand manner peculiar to certaingreat ladies and to all great actresses. 

My next visit was to the attorneys, Messrs. Leasem and Fashun, ofLincoln's Inn Square; and there I was at home. I had had dealings withthe firm before. They are agents for half the aristocracy, who alwaysrun in crowds like sheep after the same wine-merchants, the samearchitects, the same horse-dealers, and the same law-agents. It may bedoubted whether the quality of law and land management they get on thisprinciple is quite equal to their wine and horses. At any rate, myfriends of Lincoln's Inn, like others of the same class, aredistinguished by their courteous manners, deliberate proceedings, innocence of legal technicalities, long credit and heavy charges. Leasem, the elder partner, wears powder and a huge bunch of seals, lives in QueenSquare, drives a brougham, gives the dinners and does the cordialdepartment. He is so strict in performing the latter duty, that he onceaddressed a poacher who had shot a Duke's keeper, as "my dear creature, "although he afterwards hung him. 

Fashun has chambers in St. James Street, drives a cab, wears a tip, anddoes the grand haha style. 

My business lay with Leasem. The interviews and letters passing werenumerous. However, it came at last to the following dialogue:--

"Well, my dear Mr. Discount, " began Mr. Leasem, who hates me like poison, "I'm really very sorry for that poor dear Molinos--knew his father well;a great man, a perfect gentleman; but you know what women are, eh, Mr. Discount? My client won't advance a shilling; she knows it would only bewasted in low dissipation. Now, don't you think (this was said veryinsinuatingly)--don't you think he had better be sent to the work-house?Very comfortable accommodation there, I can assure you--meat twice aweek, and excellent soup; and then, Mr. D. , we might consider aboutallowing you something for that bill. "

"Mr. Leasem, can you reconcile it to your conscience to make such anarrangement? Here's a wife rolling in luxury, and a husband starving!"

"No, Mr. Discount, not starving; there is the work-house, as I observedbefore; besides, allow me to suggest that these appeals to feeling arequite unprofessional--quite unprofessional. "

"But, Mr. Leasem, touching this property which the poor man isentitled to?"

"Why, there again, Mr. D. , you must excuse me; you really must. I don'tsay he is, I don't say he is not. If you know he is entitled toproperty, I am sure you know how to proceed; the law is open to you, Mr. Discount--the law is open; and a man of your talent will know howto use it. "

"Then, Mr. Leasem, you mean that I must, in order to right this starvingman, file a Bill of Discovery, to extract from you the particulars of hisrights. You have the Marriage Settlement, and all the information, andyou decline to allow a pension, or afford any information; the man is tostarve, or go to the work-house?"

"Why, Mr. D. , you are so quick and violent, it really is notprofessional; but you see, (here a subdued smile of triumph, ) it has beendecided that a solicitor is not bound to afford such information as youask, to the injury of his client. "

"Then you mean that this poor Molinos may rot and starve, while you keepsecret from him, at his wife's request, his title to an income, and thatthe Court of Chancery will back you in this iniquity?"

I kept repeating the word "starve, " because I saw it made my respectableopponent wince. "Well, then, just listen to me: I know that in the happystate of our equity law, Chancery can't help my client; but I haveanother plan--I shall go hence to my office, issue a writ, and take yourclient's husband in execution--as soon as he is lodged in jail, I shallfile his schedule in the Insolvent Court, and when he comes up for hisdischarge, I shall put you in the witness-box, and examine you on oath, 'touching any property of which you know the insolvent to be possessed, 'and where will be your privileged communications then?"

The respectable Leasem's face lengthened in a twinkling, his comfortableconfident air vanished, he ceased twiddling his gold chain, and at lengthhe muttered, "Suppose we pay the debt?"

"Why, then, I'll arrest him the day after for another. "

"But, my dear Mr. Discount, surely such conduct would not be quiterespectable?"

"That's my business; my client has been wronged, I am determined toright him, and when the aristocratic firm of Leasem and Fashun takesrefuge according to the custom of respectable repudiators, in the coolarbors of the Court of Chancery, why, a mere bill-discounting attorneylike David Discount, need not hesitate about cutting a bludgeon out ofthe Insolvent Court. "

"Well, well, Mr. D. , you are so warm--so fiery; we must deliberate, wemust consult. You will give me until the day after to-morrow, and thenwe'll write you our final determination; in the meantime, send us a copyof your authority to act for Mr. Molinos Fitz-Roy. "

Of course I lost no time in getting the gentleman beggar to sign aproper letter. 

On the appointed day came a communication with the L. And F. Seal, whichI opened, not without unprofessional eagerness. It was as follows:--

_"In re Molinos Fitz-Roy and Another. _

"Sir, --In answer to your application on behalf of Mr. Molinos Fitz-Roy, we beg to inform you that, under the administration of a paternal auntwho died intestate, your client is entitled to two thousand five hundredpounds eight shillings and sixpence, Three per Cents. ; one thousand fivehundred pounds nineteen shillings and fourpence, Three per Cents. , Reduced; one thousand pounds, Long Annuities; five hundred pounds, BankStock; three thousand five hundred pounds, India Stock, besides othersecurities, making up about ten thousand pounds, which we are prepared totransfer over to Mr. Molinos Fitz-Roy's direction forthwith. "

Here was a windfall! It quite took away my breath. 

At dusk came my gentleman beggar, and what puzzled me was how to breakthe news to him. Being very much overwhelmed with business that day, Ihad not much time for consideration. He came in rather better dressedthan when I first saw him, with only a week's beard on his chin; but, as usual, not quite sober. Six weeks had elapsed since our firstinterview. He was still the humble, trembling, low-voiced creature, Ifirst knew him. 

After a prelude, I said, "I find, Mr. F. , you are entitled to something;pray, what do you mean to give me in addition to my bill, for obtainingit?" He answered rapidly, "Oh, take half; if there is one hundred pounds, take half--if there is five hundred pounds, take half. "

"No, no; Mr. F. , I don't do business in that way, I shall be satisfiedwith ten per cent. "

It was so settled. I then led him out into the street, impelled to tellhim the news, yet dreading the effect; not daring to make the revelationin my office, for fear of a scene. 

I began hesitatingly, "Mr. Fitz-Roy, I am happy to say that I find youare entitled to ... Ten thousand pounds!"

"Ten thousand pounds!" he echoed. "Ten thousand pounds!" he shrieked. "Ten thousand pounds!" he yelled; seizing my arm violently. "You are abrick--Here, cab! cab!" Several drove up--the shout might have been hearda mile off. He jumped in the first. 

"Where to?" said the driver. 

"To a tailor's, you rascal!"

"Ten thousand pounds! ha, ha, ha!" he repeated hysterically, when in thecab; and every moment grasping my arm. Presently he subsided, looked mestraight in the face, and muttered with agonizing fervor, "What a jollybrick you are!"

The tailor, the hosier, the boot-maker, the hair-dresser, were in turnvisited by this poor pagan of externals. As by degrees under their handshe emerged from the beggar to the gentleman, his spirits rose; his eyesbrightened; he walked erect, but always nervously grasping myarm--fearing, apparently, to lose sight of me for a moment, lest hisfortune, should vanish with me. The impatient pride with which he gavehis orders to the astonished tradesman for the finest and best ofeverything, and the amazed air of the fashionable hairdresser when hepresented his matted locks and stubble chin, to be "cut and shaved, " maybe _acted_--it cannot be described. 

By the time the external transformation was complete, and Isat down in a Cafe in the Haymarket opposite a haggard but handsomethoroughbred-looking man, whose air, with the exception of the wild eyesand deeply browned face, did not differ from the stereotyped men abouttown sitting around us, Mr. Molinos Fitz-Roy had already almostforgotten the past. He bullied the waiter, and criticised the wine, as ifhe had done nothing else but dine and drink and scold there all the daysof his life. 

Once he wished to drink my health, and would have proclaimed his wholestory to the coffee-room assembly, in a raving style. When I left healmost wept in terror at the idea of losing sight of me. But, allowingfor these ebullitions--the natural result of such a whirl of events--hewas wonderfully calm and self-possessed. 

The next day, his first care was to distribute fifty pounds among hisfriends, the cadgers, at a "house of call" in Westminster, and formallyto dissolve his connection with them; those present undertaking for the"fraternity, " that for the future he should never be noticed by them inpublic or private. 

I cannot follow his career much further. Adversity had taught himnothing. He was soon again surrounded by the well-bred vampires who hadforgotten him when penniless; but they amused him, and that was enough. The ten thousand pounds were rapidly melting when he invited me to agrand dinner at Richmond, which included a dozen of the most agreeable, good-looking, well-dressed dandies of London, interspersed with a displayof pretty butterfly bonnets. We dined deliciously, and drank as men do oficed wines in the dog-days--looking down from Richmond Hill. 

One of the pink-bonnets crowned Fitz-Roy with a wreath of flowers; helooked--less the intellect--as handsome as Alcibiades. Intenselyexcited and flushed, he rose with a champagne glass in his hand topropose my health. 

The oratorical powers of his father had not descended on him. Jerkingout sentences by spasms, at length he said, "I was a beggar--I am agentleman--thanks to this--"

Here he leaned on my shoulder heavily a moment, and then fell back. Weraised him, loosened his neckcloth--

"Fainted!" said the ladies--

"Drunk!" said the gentlemen--

He was _dead_!

A FASHIONABLE FORGER. 

I am an attorney and a bill-discounter. As it is my vocation to lendmoney at high interest to extravagant people, my connection principallylies among "fools, " sometimes among rogues "of quality. " Mine is apursuit which a prejudiced world either holds in sovereign contempt, orvisits with envy, hatred, and all uncharitableness; but to my mind, thereare many callings, with finer names, that are no better. It gives me twothings which I love--money and power; but I cannot deny that it bringswith it a bad name. The case lies between character and money, andinvolves a matter of taste. Some people like character; I prefer money. If I am hated and despised, I chuckle over the "per contra. " I find itpleasant for members of a proud aristocracy to condescend from their highestate to fawn, feign, flatter; to affect even mirthful familiarity inorder to gain my good-will. I am no Shylock. No client can accuse me ofdesiring either his flesh or his blood. Sentimental vengeance is no itemin my stock in trade. Gold and bank-notes satisfy my "rage;" or, if needbe, a good mortgage. Far from seeking revenge, the worst defaulter I everhad dealings with cannot deny that I am always willing to accept a goodpost-obit. 

I say again, I am daily brought in contact with all ranks of society, from the poverty-stricken patentee to the peer; and I am no moresurprised at receiving an application from a duchess than from a petopera-dancer. In my ante room wait, at this moment, a crowd ofborrowers. Among the men, (beardless folly and mustachioed craft are mostprominent, ) there is a handsome young fellow, with an elaborate cane andwonderfully vacant countenance, who is anticipating in feeble follies, anestate that has been in the possession of his ancestors since the reignof Henry the Eighth--there is a hairy, high-nosed, broken-downnondescript, in appearance something between a horse-dealer and apugilist. He is an old Etonian. Five years ago he drove his four-in-hand;he is now waiting to beg a sovereign, having been just discharged fromthe Insolvent Court, for the second time. Among the women, a prettyactress, who, a few years since, looked forward to a supper of steak andonions, with bottled stout, on a Saturday night, as a great treat, nowfinds one hundred pounds a month insufficient to pay her wine merchantand her confectioner. I am obliged to deal with each case according toits peculiarities. Genuine undeserved Ruin seldom knocks at my doer. Mineis a perpetual battle with people who imbibe trickery at the same rate asthey dissolve their fortunes. I am a hard man, of course. I should not befit for my pursuit if I were not; but when, by a remote chance, honestmisfortune pays me a visit, as Rothschilds amused himself at times bygiving a beggar a guinea, so I occasionally treat myself to the luxury ofdoing a kind action. My favorite subjects for this unnatural generosity, are the very young or the poor, innocent, helpless people, who are unfitfor the war of life. Many among my clients (especially those tempered inthe "ice book" of fashion and high-life--polished and passionless) wouldbe too much for me, if I had not made the face, the eye, the accent, asmuch my study as the mere legal and financial points of discount To showwhat I mean, I will relate what happened to me not long since:--

One day, a middle-aged man in the usual costume of a West-End shopman, who had sent in his name as Mr. Axminster, was shown into my privateroom. After a little hesitation, he said, "Although you do not know me, living at this end of the town, I know you very well by reputation, andthat you discount bills. I have a bill here which I want to getdiscounted. I am in the employ of Messrs. Russle and Smooth. The bill isdrawn by one of our best customers, the Hon. Miss Snape, niece of LordBlimley, and accepted by Major Munge, whom, no doubt, you know by name. She has dealt with us for some years--is very, very extravagant; butalways pays. " He put the acceptance--which was for two hundredpounds--into my hands. 

I looked at it as scrutinizingly as I usually do at such paper TheMajor's signature was familiar to me; but having succeeded to a greatestate, he had long ceased to be a customer. I instantly detected aforgery; by whom?--was the question. Could it be the man before me?Experience told me it was not. Perhaps there was something in theexpression of my countenance which Mr. Axminster did not like, for hesaid, "It is good for the amount, I presume?"

I replied, "Pray, sir, from whom did you get this bill?"

"From Miss Snape herself. "

"Have you circulated any other bills made by the same drawer?"

"O yes!" said the draper, without hesitation; "I have paid away a billfor one hundred pounds to Mr. Sparkle, the jeweller, to whom Miss Snapeowed twenty pounds. They gave me the difference. "

"And how long has that bill to run now?"

"About a fortnight. "

"Did you indorse it?"

"I did. Mr. Sparkle required me to do so, to show that the bill cameproperly into his possession. "

"This second bill, you say is urgently required to enable Miss Snape toleave town?"

"Yes; she is going to Brighton for the winter. "

I gave Mr. Axminster a steady, piercing look of inquiry. "Pray, sir, " Isaid, "could you meet that one hundred pounds bill, supposing it couldnot be paid by the accepter?"

"Meet it!" The poor fellow wiped from his forehead the perspiration whichsuddenly broke out at the bare hint of a probability that the bill wouldbe dishonored--"Meet it? O no! I am a married man, with a family, andhave nothing but my salary to depend on. "

"Then the sooner you get it taken up, and the less you have to do withMiss Snape's bill affairs, the better. "

"She has always been punctual hitherto. "

"That may be. " I pointed to the cross-writing on the document, and saiddeliberately, "_This_ bill is a forgery!"

At these words the poor man turned pale. He snatched up the document, andwith many incoherent protestations, was rushing toward the door, when Icalled to him in an authoritative tone, to stop. He paused--his mannerindicating not only doubt, but fear. I said to him, "Don't flurryyourself; I only want to serve you. You tell me that you are a marriedman, with children, dependent on daily labor for daily bread, and thatyou have done a little discounting for Miss Snape, out of your earnings. Now, although I am a bill-discounter, I don't like to see such menvictimized. Look at the body of this bill--look at the signature of yourlady-customer, the drawer. Don't you detect the same fine, thin, sharp-pointed handwriting in the words 'Accepted, Dymmock Munge. " Theman, convinced against his will, was at first overcome. When herecovered, he raved; he would expose the Honorable Miss Snape, if it costhim his bread--he would go at once to the police office. I stopped him, by saying roughly, "Don't be a fool! Any such steps would seal your ruin. Take my advice; return the bill to the lady, saying, simply, that youcannot get it discounted. Leave the rest to me, and I think the bill youhave indorsed to Sparkle will be paid. " Comforted by this assurance, Axminster, fearfully changed from the nervous, but smug, hopeful man ofthe morning, departed. It now remained for me to exert what skill Ipossessed, to bring about the desired result. I lost no time in writing aletter to the Honorable Miss Snape, of which the following is a copy:--

"Madam, --A bill, purporting to be drawn by you, has been offered to mefor discount. There is something wrong about it; and, though a strangerto you, I advise you to lose no time in getting it back into your ownhands. --D. D. "

I intended to deal with the affair quietly, and without any view toprofit. The fact is, that I was sorry--you may laugh--but I really wassorry to think that a young girl might have given way to temptation underpressure of pecuniary difficulties. If it had been a man's case, I doubtwhether I should have interfered. By the return of post, a lady's maidentered my room, profusely decorated with ringlets, lace, and perfumedwith patchouli. She brought a letter from her mistress. It ran thus:--

"Sir, --I cannot sufficiently express my thanks for your kindness inwriting to me on the subject of the bills, of which I had also heard afew hours previously. As a perfect stranger to you, I cannot estimateyour kind consideration at too high a value. I trust the matter will beexplained; but I should much like to see you. If you would be kindenough to write a note as soon as you receive this, I will order it tobe sent to me at once to Tyburn Square. I will wait on you at any houron Friday you may appoint. I believe that I am not mistaken in supposingthat you transact business for my friend, Sir John Markham, and you willtherefore know the inclosed to be his handwriting. Again thanking youmost gratefully, allow me to remain your much and deeply obliged, JULIANA SNAPE. "

This note was written upon delicate French paper embossed with a coat ofarms. It was in a fancy envelope--the whole richly perfumed, andredolent of rank and fashion. Its contents were an implied confession offorgery. Silence, or three lines of indignation, would have been theonly innocent answer to my letter. But Miss Snape thanked me. She let meknow, by implication that she was on intimate terms with a name good ona West-End bill. My answer was, that I should be alone on the followingafternoon at five. 

At the hour fixed, punctual to a moment, a brougham drew up at the cornerof the street next to my chambers. The Honorable Miss Snape's card washanded in. Presently, she entered, swimming into my room, richly, yetsimply dressed in the extreme of Parisian good taste. She was pale--orrather colorless. She had fair hair, fine teeth, and a fashionable voice. She threw herself gracefully into the chair I handed to her, and began byuncoiling a string of phrases, to the effect that her visit was merely toconsult me on "unavoidable pecuniary difficulties. "

According to my mode, I allowed her to talk; putting in only anoccasional word of question that seemed rather a random observation thana significant query. At length after walking round and round the subject, like a timid horse in a field around a groom with a sieve of oats, shecame nearer and nearer the subject. When she had fairly approached thepoint, she stopped, as if her courage had failed her. But she soonrecovered, and observed, "I cannot think why you should take the troubleto write so to me, a perfect stranger. " Another pause--"I wonder no oneever suspected me before. "

Here was a confession and a key to character. The cold gray eye, the thincompressed lips, which I had had time to observe, were true indexes tothe "lady's inner heart;" selfish calculating, utterly devoid ofconscience; unable to conceive the existence of spontaneous kindness;utterly indifferent to anything except discovery, and almost indifferentto that, because convinced that no serious consequences could affect alady of her rank and influence. 

"Madam, " I replied, "as long as you dealt with tradesmen accustomed todepend on aristocratic customers, your rank and position, and theirlarge profits, protected you from suspicion; but you have made a mistakein descending from your vantage ground to make a poor shopman yourinnocent accomplice--a man who will be keenly alive to anythingthat may injure his wife or children. His terrors--but for myinterposition--would have ruined you utterly. Tell me, how many of thesethings have you put afloat?"

She seemed a little taken a-back by this speech, but was wonderfullyfirm. She passed her white, jewelled hand over her eyes, seemedcalculating, and then whispered, with a confiding look of innocenthelplessness, admirably assumed, "About as many as amount to twelvehundred pounds. "

"And what means have you for meeting them?"

At this question so plainly put, her face flushed. She half rose from herchair, and exclaimed in the true tone of aristocratic _hauteur_, "Really, sir, I do not know what right you have to ask me that question. "

I laughed a little, though not very loud. It was rude, I own; but whocould have helped it? I replied, speaking low, but slowly anddistinctly--"You forget. I did not send for you; you came to me. You haveforged bills to the amount of twelve hundred pounds. Yours is not thecase of a ruined merchant or an ignorant over-tempted clerk. In your casea jury"--(she shuddered at that word)--"would find no extenuatingcircumstances; and if you should fall into the hands of justice you willbe convicted, degraded, clothed in a prison-dress, and transported forlife. I do not want to speak harshly; but I insist that you find means totake up the bill which Mr. Axminster has so unwittingly endorsed!"

The Honorable Miss Snape's grand manner melted away. She wept. She seizedand pressed my hand. She cast up her eyes, full of tears, and wentthrough the part of a repentant victim with great fervor. She would doanything--anything in the world to save the poor man. Indeed, she hadintended to appropriate part of the two hundred pound bill to thatpurpose. She forgot her first statement, that she wanted the money to goout of town. Without interrupting, I let her go on and degrade herself bya simulated passion of repentance, regret, and thankfulness to me, underwhich she hid her fear and her mortification at being detected. I atlength put an end to a scene of admirable acting, by recommending her togo abroad immediately, to place herself out of reach of any suddendiscovery; and then lay her case fully before her friends, who would nodoubt feel bound to come forward with the full amount of the forgedbills. "But, " she exclaimed, with an entreating air, "I have no money; Icannot go without money!" To that observation I did not respond althoughI am sure she expected that I should, check-book in hand, offer her aloan. I do not say so without reason; for, the very next week, thishonorable young lady came again, and, with sublime assurance and a numberof very charming, winning speeches, (which might have had their effectupon a younger man), asked me to lend her one hundred pounds, in orderthat she might take the advice I had so obligingly given her, and retireinto private life for a certain time in the country. I do meet with agreat many impudent people in the course of my calling--I am not verydeficient in assurance myself--but this actually took away my breath. 

"Really, madam, " I answered, "you pay a very ill-compliment to my grayhairs, and would fain make me a very ill return for the service I havedone you, when you ask me to lend a hundred pounds to a young lady whoowns to having forged to the extent of one thousand two hundred pounds, and to owing eight hundred pounds besides. I wished to save a personageof your years and position from a disgraceful career; but I am too good atrustee for my children to lend money to anybody in such a dangerousposition as yourself. "

"Oh!" she answered, quite unabashed, without a trace of the fearful, tender pleading of the previous week's interview--quite as if I had beenan accomplice, "I can give you excellent security. "

"That alters the case; I can lend any amount on good security. "

"Well, sir, I can get the acceptance of three friends of ample means"

"Do you mean to tell me, Miss Snape, that you will write down the namesof three parties who will accept a bill for one hundred pounds for you?"

Yes, she could, and did actually write down the names of threedistinguished men. Now I knew for certain, that not one of those noblemenwould have put his name to a bill on any account whatever for his dearestfriend; but, in her unabashed self-confidence, she thought of passinganother forgery _on me_. I closed the conference by saying, "I cannotassist you;" and she retired with the air of an injured person. In thecourse of a few days, I heard from Mr. Axminster, that his liability ofone hundred pounds had been duly honored. 

In my active and exciting life, one day extinguishes the recollectionof the events of the preceding day; and, for a time, I thought no moreabout the fashionable forger. I had taken it for granted that, heartily frightened, although not repenting, she had paused in herfelonious pursuits. 

My business one day led me to the establishment of one of the mostwealthy and respectable legal firms in the city, where I am well known, and, I believe, valued; for at all times I am most politely, I may say, most cordially received. Mutual profits create a wonderful freemasonrybetween those who have not any other sympathy or sentiment. Politics, religion, morality, difference of rank, are all equalized andrepublicanized by the division of an account. No sooner had I entered the_sanctum_, than the senior partner, Mr. Precepts, began to quiz hisjunior, Mr. Jones, with, "Well, Jones must never joke friend Discountanymore about usury. Just imagine, " he continued, addressing me, "Joneshas himself been discounting a bill for a lady; and a deuced pretty onetoo. He sat next her at dinner in Grosvenor Square, last week. Next dayshe gave him a call here, and he could not refuse her extraordinaryrequest. Gad, it is hardly fair for Jones to be poaching on your domainsof West-End paper!"

Mr. Jones smiled quietly, as he observed, "Why, you see, she is the nieceof one of our best clients; and really I was so taken by surprise, that Idid not know how to refuse. "

"Pray, " said I, interrupting his excuses, "does your young lady's namebegin with S. ? Has she not a very pale face, and cold gray eye?"

The partners stared. 

"Ah! I see it is so; and can at once tell you that the bill is notworth a rush. "

"Why, you don't mean--?"

"I mean simply that the acceptance is, I'll lay you a wager, a forgery. "

"A forgery!"

"A forgery, " I repeated as distinctly as possible. 

Mr. Jones hastily, and with broken ejaculations, called for the cash-box. With trembling hands he took out the bill, and followed my finger witheager, watchful eyes, as I pointed out the proofs of my assertion. A longpause was broken by my mocking laugh; for, at the moment, my sense ofpoliteness could not restrain my satisfaction at the signal defeat whichhad attended the first experiment of these highly respectable gentlemenin the science of usury. 

The partners did not have recourse to the police. They did not propose aconsultation with either Mr. Forrester or Mr. Field; but they tookcertain steps, under my recommendation; the result of which was that atan early day, an aunt of the Honorable Miss Snape was driven, to save sonear a connection from transportation, to sell out some fourteen hundredpounds of stock, and all the forgeries were taken up. 

One would have thought that the lady who had thus so narrowly escaped, had had enough--but forgery, like opium-eating, is one of those charmingvices which is never abandoned, when once adopted. The forger enjoys notonly the pleasure of obtaining money so easily, but the triumph ofbefooling sharp men of the world. Dexterous penmanship is a source of thesame sort of pride as that which animates the skillful rifleman, thepracticed duellist, or well-trained billiard-player. With a clean Gillotthe fetches down a capitalist, at three or six months, for a cool hundredor a round thousand; just as a Scrope drops over a stag at ten, or aGordon Cumming a monstrous male elephant at a hundred paces. 

As I before observed, my connection especially lies among theimprovident--among those who will be ruined--who are being ruined--andwho have been ruined. To the last class belongs Francis Fisherton, oncea gentleman, now without a shilling or a principle; but rich inmother-wit--in fact, a _farceur_, after Paul de Kock's own heart. Havingin by-gone days been one of my willing victims, he occasionally findspleasure and profit in guiding others through the gate he frequented, aslong as able to pay the tolls. In truth, he is what is called a"discount agent. "

One day I received a note from him, to say that he would call on me atthree o'clock the next day to introduce a lady of family, who wanted abill "done" for one hundred pounds. So ordinary a transaction merelyneeded a memorandum in my diary, "Tuesday, 3 p. M. ; F. F. , £100 Bill. " Thehour came and passed; but no Frank, which was strange--because every onemust have observed, that, however dilatory people are in paying, they arewonderfully punctual when they expect to receive money. 

At five o'clock, in rushed my Jackall. His story, disentangled fromoaths and ejaculations, amounted to this:--In answer to one of theadvertisements he occasionally addresses "To the Embarrassed, " in thecolumns of the "Times, " he received a note from a lady, who said she wasanxious to get a "bill done"--the acceptance of a well-known man of rankand fashion. A correspondence was opened, and an appointment made. At thehour fixed, neatly shaved, brushed, gloved, booted--the revival, inshort, of that high-bred Frank Fisherton who was so famous

"In his hot youth, when Crockford's was the thing. "

glowing with only one glass of brandy, "just to steady his nerves, " hemet the lady at a West-End pastry-cook's. 

After a few words (for all the material questions had been settled bycorrespondence) she stepped into a brougham, and invited Frank to take aseat beside her. Elated with a compliment of late years so rare, hecommenced planning the orgies which were to reward him for weeks ofenforced fasting, when the coachman, reverentially touching his hat, looked down from his seat for orders. 

"To ninety-nine, George Street, St. James, " cried Fisherton, in hisloudest tones. 

In an instant the young lady's pale face changed to scarlet, and then toghastly green. In a whisper, rising to a scream, she exclaimed, "Goodheavens! you do not mean to go to _that_ man's house, " (meaning me. )"Indeed, I cannot go to him, on any account; he is a most horrid man, Iam told, and charges most extravagantly. "

"Madam, " answered Frank, in great perturbation, "I beg your pardon, butyou have been grossly misinformed. I have known that excellent man thesetwenty years, and have paid him hundreds on hundreds; but never so muchby ten per cent. As you offered me for discounting your bill. "

"Sir, I cannot have anything to do with your friend. " Then, violently, pulling the check-string, "Stop, " she gasped, "and _will you_ have thegoodness to get out?"

"And so I got out, " continued Fisherton, "and lost my time; and the heavyinvestment I made in getting myself up for the assignation--new primrosegloves, and a shilling to the hair-dresser--hang her! But, did you everknow anything like the prejudices that must prevail against you? I amdisgusted with human nature. Could you lend me half a sovereign tillSaturday?"

I smiled. I sacrificed the half sovereign, and let him go, for he is notexactly the person to whom it was advisable to intrust all the secretsrelating to the Honorable Miss Snape. Since that day I look each morningin the police reports with considerable interest; but, up to the presenthour, the Honorable Miss Snape has lived and thrived in the best society. 

THE YOUNG ADVOCATE. 

Antoine de Chaulieu was the son of a poor gentleman of Normandy, with along genealogy, a short rent-roll, and a large family. Jacques Rolletwas the son of a brewer, who did not know who his grandfather was; buthe had a long purse and only two children. As these youths flourished inthe early days of liberty, equality, and fraternity, and were nearneighbors, they naturally hated each other. Their enmity commenced atschool, where the delicate and refined De Chaulieu, being the onlygentilhomme among the scholars, was the favorite of the master, (who wasa bit of an aristocrat in his heart, ) although he was about the worstdressed boy in the establishment, and never had a sou to spend; whileJacques Rollet, sturdy and rough, with smart clothes and plenty ofmoney, got flogged six days in the week, ostensibly for being stupid andnot learning his lessons, --which, indeed, he did not, --but, in reality, for constantly quarrelling with and insulting De Chaulieu, who had notstrength to cope with him. When they left the academy, the feudcontinued in all its vigor, and was fostered by a thousand littlecircumstances arising out of the state of the times, till a separationensued in consequence of an aunt of Antoine de Chaulieu's undertakingthe expense of sending him to Paris to study the law, and of maintaininghim there during the necessary period. 

With the progress of events came some degree of reaction in favor ofbirth and nobility, and then Antoine, who had passed for the bar, beganto hold up his head and endeavored to push his fortunes; but fate seemedagainst him. He felt certain that if he possessed any gift in the worldit was that of eloquence, but he could get no cause to plead; and hisaunt dying inopportunely, first his resources failed, and then hishealth. He had no sooner returned to his home, than, to complicate hisdifficulties completely, he fell in love with Mademoiselle Natalie deBellefonds, who had just returned from Paris, where she had beencompleting her education. To expatiate on the perfections of MademoiselleNatalie would be a waste of ink and paper; it is sufficient to say thatshe really was a very charming girl, with a fortune which, though notlarge, would have been a most desirable acquisition to De Chaulieu, whohad nothing. Neither was the fair Natalie indisposed to listen to hisaddresses; but her father could not be expected to countenance the suitof a gentleman, however well born, who had not a ten-sous piece in theworld, and whose prospects were a blank. 

While the ambitious and lovesick young barrister was thus pining inunwelcome obscurity, his old acquaintance, Jacques Rollet, had beenacquiring an undesirable notoriety. There was nothing really bad inJacques' disposition, but having been bred up a democrat, with a hatredof the nobility, he could not easily accommodate his rough humor to treatthem with civility when it was no longer safe to insult them. Theliberties he allowed himself whenever circumstances brought him intocontact with the higher classes of society, had led him into manyscrapes, out of which his father's money had one way or another releasedhim; but that source of safety had now failed. Old Rollet, having beentoo busy with the affairs of the nation to attend to his business, haddied insolvent, leaving his son with nothing but his own wits to help himout of future difficulties, and it was not long before their exercise wascalled for. Claudine Rollet, his sister, who was a very pretty girl, hadattracted the attention of Mademoiselle de Bellefonds' brother, Alphonse;and as he paid her more attention than from such a quarter was agreeableto Jacques, the young men had more than one quarrel on the subject, onwhich occasions they had each, characteristically, given vent to theirenmity, the one in contemptuous monosyllables, and the other in a volleyof insulting words. But Claudine had another lover more nearly of her owncondition of life; this was Claperon, the deputy-governor of the Rouenjail, with whom she made acquaintance during one or two compulsory visitspaid by her brother to that functionary; but Claudine, who was a bit of acoquette, though she did not altogether reject his suit, gave him littleencouragement, so that betwixt hopes and fears, and doubts andjealousies, poor Claperon led a very uneasy kind of life. 

Affairs had been for some time in this position, when, one fine morning, Alphonse de Bellefonds was not to be found in his chamber when hisservant went to call him; neither had his bed been slept in. He had beenobserved to go out rather late on the preceding evening, but whether ornot he had returned, nobody could tell. He had not appeared at supper, but that was too ordinary an event to awaken suspicion; and little alarmwas excited till several hours had elapsed, when inquiries wereinstituted and a search commenced, which terminated in the discovery ofhis body, a good deal mangled, lying at the bottom of a pond which hadbelonged to the old brewery. Before any investigations had been made, every person had jumped to the conclusion that the young man had beenmurdered, and that Jacques Rollet was the assassin. There was a strongpresumption in favor of that opinion, which further perquisitions tendedto confirm. Only the day before, Jacques had been heard to threaten M. DeBellefonds with speedy vengeance. On the fatal evening, Alphonse andClaudine had been seen together in the neighborhood of the now dismantledbrewery; and as Jacques, betwixt poverty and democracy, was in bad odorwith the prudent and respectable part of society, it was not easy for himto bring witnesses to character, or prove an unexceptionable alibi. Asfor the Bellefonds and De Chaulieus, and the aristocracy in general, theyentertained no doubt of his guilt; and finally, the magistrates coming tothe same opinion, Jacques Rollet was committed for trial, and as atestimony of good will Antoine de Chaulieu was selected by the injuredfamily to conduct the prosecution. 

Here, at last, was the opportunity he had sighed for! So interesting acase, too, furnishing such ample occasion for passion, pathos, indignation! And how eminently fortunate that the speech which he sethimself with ardor to prepare, would be delivered in the presence of thefather and brother of his mistress, and perhaps of the lady herself! Theevidence against Jacques, it is true, was altogether presumptive; therewas no proof whatever that he had committed the crime; and for his ownpart he stoutly denied it. But Antoine de Chaulieu entertained no doubtof his guilt, and his speech was certainly well calculated to carryconviction into the bosom of others. It was of the highest importance tohis own reputation that he should procure a verdict, and he confidentlyassured the afflicted and enraged family of the victim that theirvengeance should be satisfied. Under these circumstances could any thingbe more unwelcome than a piece of intelligence that was privatelyconveyed to him late on the evening before the trial was to come on, which tended strongly to exculpate the prisoner, without indicating anyother person as the criminal? Here was an opportunity lost. The firststep of the ladder on which he was to rise to fame, fortune, and a wife, was slipping from under his feet!

Of course, so interesting a trial was anticipated with great eagerness bythe public, and the court was crowded with all the beauty and fashion ofRouen. Though Jacques Rollet persisted in asserting his innocence, founding his defence chiefly on circumstances which were stronglycorroborated by the information that had reached De Chaulieu thepreceding evening, he was convicted. 

In spite of the very strong doubts he privately entertained respectingthe justice of the verdict, even De Chaulieu himself, in the first flushof success, amid a crowd of congratulating friends, and the approvingsmiles of his mistress, felt gratified and happy; his speech had, for thetime being, not only convinced others, but himself; warmed with his owneloquence, he believed what he said. But when the glow was over, and hefound himself alone, he did not feel so comfortable. A latent doubt ofRollet's guilt now burnt strongly in his mind, and he felt that the bloodof the innocent would be on his head. It is true there was yet time tosave the life of the prisoner; but to admit Jacques innocent was to takethe glory out of his own speech, and turn the sting of his argumentagainst himself. Besides, if he produced the witness who had secretlygiven him the information, he should be self-condemned, for he could notconceal that he had been aware of the circumstance before the trial. 

Matters having gone so far, therefore, it was necessary that JacquesRollet should die; so the affair took its course; and early one morningthe guillotine was erected in the courtyard of the jail, three criminalsascended the scaffold, and three heads fell into the basket which werepresently afterwards, with the trunks that had been attached to them, buried in a corner of the cemetery. 

Antoine de Chaulieu was now fairly started in his career, and his successwas as rapid as the first step towards it had been tardy. He took apretty apartment in the Hotel de Marboeuf Rue Grange-Batelière, and in ashort time was looked upon as one of the most rising young advocates inParis. His success in one line brought him success in another; he wassoon a favorite in society, and an object of interest to speculatingmothers; but his affections still adhered to his old love, Natalie deBellefonds, whose family now gave their assent to the match, --at least, prospectively, --a circumstance which furnished such an additionalincentive to his exertions, that in about two years from the date of hisfirst brilliant speech, he was in a sufficiently flourishing condition tooffer the young lady a suitable home. In anticipation of the happy event, he engaged and furnished a suit of apartments in the Rue du Helder; andas it was necessary that the bride should come to Paris to provide hertrousseau, it was agreed that the wedding should take place there, instead of at Bellefonds, as had been first projected--an arrangement themore desirable, that a press of business rendered M. De Chaulieu'sabsence from Paris inconvenient. 

Brides and bridegrooms in France, except of the very high classes, arenot much in the habit of making those honeymoon excursions so universalin this country. A day spent in visiting Versailles, or St. Cloud, oreven the public places of the city, is generally all that precedes thesettling down into the habits of daily life. In the present instance, St. Denis was selected, from the circumstance of Natalie having a youngersister at school there, and also because she had a particular desire tosee the abbey. 

The wedding was to take place on a Thursday; and on the Wednesdayevening, having spent some hours most agreeably with Natalie, Antoine deChaulieu returned to spend his last night in his bachelor apartments. Hiswardrobe and other small possessions had already been packed up and sentto his future home; and there was nothing left in his room now but hisnew wedding suit, which he inspected with considerable satisfactionbefore he undressed and lay down to sleep. Sleep, however, was somewhatslow to visit him; and the clock had struck one before he closed hiseyes. When he opened them again, it was broad daylight; and his firstthought was, had he overslept himself? He sat up in bed to look at theclock, which was exactly opposite; and as he did so, in the large mirrorover the fireplace he perceived a figure standing behind him. As thedilated eyes met his own, he saw it was the face of Jacques Rollet. Overcome with horror, he sank back on his pillow, and it was some minutesbefore he ventured to look again in that direction; when he did so, thefigure had disappeared. 

The sudden revulsion of feeling such a vision was calculated to occasionin a man elate with joy, may be conceived. For some time after the deathof his former foe, he had been visited by not unfrequent twinges ofconscience; but of late, borne along by success, and the hurry ofParisian life, these unpleasant remembrances had grown rarer, till atlength they had faded away altogether. Nothing had been further from histhoughts than Jacques Rollet, when he closed his eyes on the precedingnight, nor when he opened them to that sun which was to shine on what heexpected to be the happiest day of his life. Where were the high-strungnerves now? the elastic frame? the bounding heart?

Heavily and slowly he arose from his bed, for it was time to do so; andwith a trembling hand and quivering knees, he went through the processesof the toilet, gashing his cheek with the razor, and spilling the waterover his well-polished boots. When he was dressed, scarcely venturing tocast a glance in the mirror as he passed it, he quitted the room, anddescended the stairs, taking the key of the door with him for the purposeof leaving it with the porter: the man, however, being absent, he laid iton the table in his lodge, and with a relaxed and languid step proceededon his way to the church, where presently arrived the fair Natalie andher friends. How difficult it was now to look happy with that pallid faceand extinguished eye!

"How pale you are! Has any thing happened? You are surely ill, " were theexclamations that met him on all sides. He tried to carry it off as wellas he could, but felt that the movements he would have wished to appearalert were only convulsive, and that the smiles with which he attemptedto relax his features were but distorted grimaces. However, the churchwas not the place for further inquiries; and while Natalie gently pressedhis hand in token of sympathy, they advanced to the altar, and theceremony was performed; after which they stepped into the carriageswaiting at the door, and drove to the apartments of Madame de Bellefonds, where an elegant _déjeuner_ was prepared. 

"What ails you, my dear husband?" inquired Natalie, as soon as theywere alone. 

"Nothing, love, " he replied; "nothing, I assure you, but a restless nightand a little overwork, in order that I might have to-day free to enjoy myhappiness. "

"Are you quite sure? Is there nothing else?"

"Nothing, indeed; and pray don't take notice of it; it only makesme worse. "

Natalie was not deceived, but she saw that what he said was true; noticemade him worse; so she contented herself with observing him quietly, andsaying nothing; but, as he _felt_ she was observing him, she might almostbetter have spoken; words are often less embarrassing things than toocurious eyes. 

When they reached Madame de Bellefond's he had the same sort ofquestioning and scrutiny to undergo, till he grew quite impatient underit, and betrayed a degree of temper altogether unusual with him. Thenevery body looked astonished; some whispered their remarks, and othersexpressed them by their wondering eyes, till his brow knit, and hispallid cheeks became flushed with anger. Neither could he divertattention by eating; his parched mouth would not allow him to swallow anything but liquids, of which, however, he indulged in copious libations;and it was an exceeding relief to him when the carriage, which was toconvey them to St. Denis, being announced, furnished an excuse forhastily leaving the table. Looking at his watch, he declared it was late;and Natalie, who saw how eager he was to be gone, threw her shawl overher shoulders, and bidding her friends _good morning_, they hurried away. 

It was a fine sunny day in June; and as they drove along the crowdedboulevards, and through the Porte St. Denis, the young bride andbridegroom, to avoid each other's eyes, affected to be gazing out of thewindows; but when they reached the part of the road where there wasnothing but trees on each side, they felt it necessary to draw in theirheads, and make an attempt at conversation, De Chaulieu put his arm roundhis wife's waist, and tried to rouse himself from his depression; but ithad by this time so reacted upon her, that she could not respond to hisefforts, and thus the conversation languished, till both felt glad whenthey reached their destination, which would, at all events, furnish themsomething to talk about. 

Having quitted the carriage, and ordered a dinner at the Hotel del'Abbaye, the young couple proceeded to visit Mademoiselle Hortense deBellefonds, who was overjoyed to see her sister and new brother-in-law, and doubly so when she found that they had obtained permission to takeher out to spend the afternoon with them. As there is little to be seenat St. Denis but the Abbey, on quitting that part of it devoted toeducation, they proceeded to visit the church, with its various objectsof interest; and as De Chaulieu's thoughts were now forced into anotherdirection, his cheerfulness began insensibly to return. Natalie looked sobeautiful, too, and the affection betwixt the two young sisters was sopleasant to behold! And they spent a couple of hours wandering about withHortense, who was almost as well informed as the Suisse, till the brazendoors were opened which admitted them to the Royal vault. Satisfied, atlength, with what they had seen, they began to think of returning to theinn, the more especially as De Chaulieu, who had not eaten a morsel offood since the previous evening, owned to being hungry; so they directedtheir steps to the door, lingering here and there as they went, toinspect a monument or a painting, when, happening to turn his head asideto see if his wife, who had stopped to take a last look at the tomb ofKing Dagobert, was following, he beheld with horror the face of JacquesRollet appearing from behind a column! At the same instant his wifejoined him, and took his arm, inquiring if he was not very much delightedwith what he had seen. He attempted to say yes, but the word would not beforced out; and staggering out of the door, he alleged that a suddenfaintness had overcome him. 

They conducted him to the Hotel, but Natalie now became seriouslyalarmed; and well she might. His complexion looked ghastly, his limbsshook, and his features bore an expression of indescribable horror andanguish. What could be the meaning of so extraordinary a change in thegay, witty, prosperous De Chaulieu, who, till that morning, seemed not tohave a care in the world? For, plead illness as he might, she feltcertain, from the expression of his features, that his sufferings werenot of the body but of the mind; and, unable to imagine any reason forsuch extraordinary manifestations, of which she had never before seen asymptom, but a sudden aversion to herself, and regret for the step he hadtaken, her pride took the alarm, and, concealing the distress she reallyfelt, she began to assume a haughty and reserved manner towards him, which he naturally interpreted into an evidence of anger and contempt. The dinner was placed upon the table; but De Chaulieu's appetite, ofwhich he had lately boasted, was quite gone, nor was his wife better ableto eat. The young sister alone did justice to the repast; but althoughthe bridegroom could not eat, he could swallow champagne in such copiousdraughts, that ere long the terror and remorse that the apparition ofJacques Rollet had awakened in his breast were drowned in intoxication. Amazed and indignant, poor Natalie sat silently observing this elect ofher heart, till overcome with disappointment and grief, she quitted theroom with her sister, and retired to another apartment, where she gavefree vent to her feelings in tears. 

After passing a couple of hours in confidences and lamentations, theyrecollected that the hours of liberty granted, as an especial favor, toMademoiselle Hortense, had expired; but ashamed to exhibit her husband inhis present condition to the eyes of strangers, Natalie prepared tore-conduct her to the _Maison Royale_ herself. Looking into thedining-room as they passed, they saw De Chaulieu lying on a sofa fastasleep, in which state he continued when his wife returned. At length, however, the driver of their carriage begged to know if Monsieur andMadame were ready to return to Paris, and it became necessary to arousehim. The transitory effects of the champagne had now subsided; but whenDe Chaulieu recollected what had happened, nothing could exceed his shameand mortification. So engrossing indeed were these sensations that theyquite overpowered his previous one, and, in his present vexation, he, forthe moment, forgot his fears. He knelt at his wife's feet, begged herpardon a thousand times, swore that he adored her, and declared that theillness and the effect of the wine had been purely the consequences offasting and over-work. It was not the easiest thing in the world tore-assure a woman whose pride, affection, and taste, had been so severelywounded; but Natalie tried to believe, or to appear to do so, and a sortof reconciliation ensued, not quite sincere on the part of the wife, andvery humbling on the part of the husband. Under these circumstances itwas impossible that he should recover his spirits or facility of manner;his gaiety was forced, his tenderness constrained; his heart was heavywithin him; and ever and anon the source whence all this disappointmentand woe had sprung would recur to his perplexed and tortured mind. 

Thus mutually pained and distrustful, they returned to Paris, which theyreached about nine o'clock. In spite of her depression, Natalie, who hadnot seen her new apartments, felt some curiosity about them, whilst DeChaulieu anticipated a triumph in exhibiting the elegant home he hadprepared for her. With some alacrity, therefore, they stepped out of thecarriage, the gates of the Hotel were thrown open, the _concierge_ rangthe bell which announced to the servants that their master and mistresshad arrived, and whilst these domestics appeared above, holding lightsover the balustrades, Natalie, followed by her husband, ascended thestairs. But when they reached the landing-place of the first flight, theysaw the figure of a man standing in a corner as if to make way for them;the flash from above fell upon his face, and again Antoine de Chaulieurecognized the features of Jacques Rollet!

From the circumstance of his wife's preceding him, the figure was notobserved by De Chaulieu till he was lifting his foot to place it on thetop stair: the sudden shock caused him to miss the step, and, withoututtering a sound, he fell back, and never stopped till he reached thestones at the bottom. The screams of Natalie brought the concierge frombelow and the maids from above, and an attempt was made to raise theunfortunate man from the ground; but with cries of anguish he besoughtthem to desist. 

"Let me, " he said, "die here! What a fearful vengeance is thine! O, Natalie, Natalie!" he exclaimed to his wife, who was kneeling beside him, "to win fame, and fortune, and yourself, I committed a dreadful crime!With lying words I argued away the life of a fellow-creature, whom, whilst I uttered them, I half believed to be innocent; and now, when Ihave attained all I desired, and reached the summit of my hopes, theAlmighty has sent him back upon the earth to blast me with the sight. Three times this day--three times this day! Again! again!"--and as hespoke, his wild and dilated eyes fixed themselves on one of theindividuals that surrounded him. 

"He is delirious, " said they. 

"No, " said the stranger! "What he says is true enough, --at least inpart;" and bending over the expiring man, he added, "May Heaven forgiveyou, Antoine de Chaulieu! I was not executed; one who well knew myinnocence saved my life. I may name him, for he is beyond the reach ofthe law now, --it was Claperon, the jailor, who loved Claudine, and hadhimself killed Alphonse de Bellefonds from jealousy. An unfortunatewretch had been several years in the jail for a murder committed duringthe frenzy of a fit of insanity. Long confinement had reduced him toidiocy. To save my life Claperon substituted the senseless being for me, on the scaffold; he was executed in my stead. He has quitted the country, and I have been a vagabond on the face of the earth ever since that time. At length I obtained, through the assistance of my sister, the situationof concierge in the Hotel Marboeuf, in the Rue Grange-Batelière. Ientered on my new place yesterday evening, and was desired to awaken thegentleman on the third floor at seven o'clock. When I entered the room todo so, you were asleep, but before I had time to speak you awoke, and Irecognized your features in the glass. Knowing that I could not vindicatemy innocence if you chose to seize me, I fled, and seeing an omnibusstarting for St. Denis, I got on it with a vague idea of getting on toCalais, and crossing the Channel to England. But having only a franc ortwo in my pocket, or indeed in the world, I did not know how to procurethe means of going forward; and whilst I was lounging about the place, forming first one plan and then another, I saw you in the church, andconcluding you were in pursuit of me, I thought the best way of eludingyour vigilance was to make my way back to Paris as fast as I could; so Iset off instantly, and walked all the way; but having no money to pay mynight's lodging, I came here to borrow a couple of livres of my sisterClaudine, who lives in the fifth story. "

"Thank Heaven!" exclaimed the dying man; "that sin is off my soul!Natalie, dear wife, farewell! Forgive, forgive all!"

These were the last words he uttered; the priest, who had beensummoned in haste, held up the cross before his failing sight; a fewstrong convulsions shook the poor bruised and mangled frame; and thenall was still. 

And thus ended the Young Advocate's Wedding Day. 

A MURDER IN THE TIME OF THE CRUSADES. 

There is, perhaps, no country or climate more beautiful than England, asseen in one of its rural landscapes, when the sun has just risen upon acloudless summer's dawn. The very feeling that the delightful freshnessof the moment will not be entirely destroyed during the whole day, renders the prospect more agreeable than the anticipated fiery advance ofthe sun in southern or tropical lands. Exhilaration and gladness are themarked characteristics of an English summer morning. So it ever is, andso it was hundreds of years ago, when occurred the events we are about tonarrate. How lovely then, on such a morning as we allude to, looked thatrich vale in the centre of Gloucestershire, through which the lordlySevern flows! The singing of the birds, the reflective splendor of thesilvery waters, the glittering of the dew as it dazzled anddisappeared--all combined to charm sound, sight, and sense, and toproduce a strong feeling of joy. But the horseman, who was passingthrough this graceful scene, scarcely needed the aid of any externalobject to enhance the pleasurable sensation that already filled hisbreast. The stately horse on which he sat, seemed, by its light steps, and by ever and anon proudly prancing, to share in the animation of itsrider. So, the noble stag-hound that followed, and continually looked upcontentedly at its master, appeared, likewise, a participator in thegeneral content. The stranger had indeed cause to rejoice, for he wasupon the fairest errand. He bad wooed and won the gentle heiress of aproud, but good-hearted Gloucestershire baron--he had wooed and won her, too, with the full consent of father, kinsmen, and friends, and he wasnow on his way to the baron's castle to arrange with his betrothed theceremonial of the nuptials. Ride on, thou gallant knight, ride on, andswifter too; for though the day will be yet early when thou arrivest, thou wilt find thyself expected within the Gothic enciente of the Baronde Botetourt's dwelling. A banner waves from the topmost tower to do theehonor and welcome; there walks, too, by the battlements, one whose nighthas been sleepless because of thee, whose thoughts and whose wholeexistence centre in thee, whose look firmly attaches to the road thatbrings thee to her. Ride on then speedily, Sir Knight, to the happinessthy virtue and thy deeds have so well deserved. 

This lover is no ordinary suitor: he is of mingled Saxon and Norman nobleblood, the recent companion-in-arms of Richard Coeur de Lion. His name isRalph de Sudley, and though he has passed his thirtieth year, the effectof long toil and war scarcely appears upon his handsome and still veryyouthful countenance. Yet the knight has seen and endured much: he hasbeen with Richard at the siege and capture of Acre, and at the battle ofAzotus. When Conrad of Montferrat fell by the dagger of the assassins, Sir Ralph took a prominent part in the stormy debates which ensued amongthe Crusaders. He even proposed with his men-at-arms, and those who wouldfollow him, to invade the territory of the Lord of the Mountain, and toavenge in his blood the death which that king of murderers had caused tobe done to Conrad. This event made so deep an impression on his mind, that he still took every opportunity of urging upon his own and otherChristian governments the necessity of extirpating these easternassassins. On his return from the crusades, Sir Ralph found the daughterof his friend, the Baron de Botetourt, just verging into beauteouswomanhood. The glory of his reputation, and the graces of his person, gained her heart at once; the Lady Alianore, though much his junior inyears, loved the knight fondly and devotedly. 

Sir Ralph has reached the portcullis of the castle; the wardour andmen-at-arms are there to receive him with full honors, though he comesprivately, without his armor or his followers: he wears the civil butcostly dress of the period, with no other weapon than a slight sword athis side. But the baron will have each advent of his future son-in-lawwelcomed as an approach of state. 

"Grammercy, Sir Baron, " observed the knight, as after passing through acrowd of domestics, he grasped his host's hand upon the threshold, "onewould imagine me Richard of England himself, or rather Saladin, thatgreatest and most gaudy of Oriental Soldans, to see this pompous preludeto my disjune with your lovely daughter and yourself. "

"Nay, Ralph de Sudley, " replied the baron, "my castle must needs put onits best looks, when it beholds the entry of one who is to be its lordand protector when I shall be no more. But I see you are all impatienceto go within; and, in truth, the sooner your first interview be over thebetter, for the table is prepared, and the pasty awaits us, and thechaplain too, whose inward man, after the morning's Mass, craves somesolid refreshment. "

"A moment, my worthiest of friends, and I am with you, " said the knight, as he hurried by: in another instant the Lady Alianore was in hisembrace. Need we repeat the oft-told tale of love? Need we describe theday of delight Sir Ralph passed in the castle, lingering from hour tohour until the dusk? O, there is some one we must depict, the ladyherself, who so subdued and softened this knightly soul. There, one handupon the shoulder of her lover, her other hand locked in his, she sitslistening to his words, and luxuriating in his discourse. The LadyAlianore, somewhat tall in stature, but perfect in form, has a face ofdazzling beauty, yet the bewitching sweetness of her smile is tempered bya certain dignity of countenance, to which her dark, raven hair, anddarker eyes, do not a little contribute; her hands, and the foot thatpeeps from beneath, her graceful robe, are of exquisite smallness, andbespeak the purest Norman blood. Her extreme fairness, shaded by hersable locks, form a strong contrast to the auburn hair and ruddy visageof the stalwart warrior beside her. 

"This will indeed be too much, Ralph, " observed the lady; "a monarch, hisqueen, and his court, to come to this out-of-the-way castle, to honor thewedding of a lone damsel like myself; I can hardly support the idea of somuch splendor. "

"Fear not, my beloved, " replied the knight, "Richard is homely enough, and all good nature. Moreover, it is but a return of civility; for I itwas who accompanied him to the altar, where he obtained the hand ofBerengaria of Navarre; the office was a dangerous one then, since Iincurred by it the wrath of Philip of France. And why, dearest, shouldnot every magnificence attend our nuptials? It is the outward emblem ofour great content--a mark, like those gorgeous ceremonies that accompanythe festive prayers of the Church, which tell the people of the earth ofa joy having something of the gladness and glory of Heaven in it. "

"Be it as you wish, my own true knight; yet I almost feel that I am toohappy. May God bless and protect us!"

Thus passed this bright day, until the approach of dusk imperativelycompelled the enraptured lovers to separate. The knight had urgentbusiness to settle, early on the morrow, at his own castle, beforesetting out for London, to announce to the king the day fixed for theespousal, and to beg from the monarch the fulfilment of the promise hehad made, to be present in person with his court, at the wedding of hisgallant and faithful vassal. The knight was therefore forced to departere the gloom advanced; for though his journey lay in a friendly andpeaceful country, it was not the habit in those days to be abroad muchafter dusk, without an efficient escort. 

Sir Ralph reluctantly quitted his betrothed: he made his escape moreoverfrom the baron and the chaplain, who prayed his further tarrying, toshare in another flagon of Rhenish about to be produced. The horse anddog were at the porch, and, in a few minutes, the knight had passed thedrawbridge, and was in the same fair road again. 

"I have known Sir Ralph from his birth, " observed the baron to thechaplain, "and I love him as my own son. The king may well come here tosee him wedded; for he has not a nobler, braver, or more generous knightwithin his realm. "

"Truly, Sir Baron, he is endowed with much excellence, " replied thepriest; "I do greatly admire his strong denunciation against the Templarsand other warlike orders, who tolerate the protracted existence of thatband of murderers in the past who have their daggers ever pointedagainst the sons of the Church. Sir Ralph speaks on this subject like atrue soldier of the Cross. "

"Very true, " retorted the baron, "yet I wish our chevaliers would ceaseto think of foreign broils and questions, and attend to affairs at home. This Rhenish is perfect: after all, wine is the only thing really goodthat originates beyond our seas. "

Their discourse had scarcely proceeded farther, when it was suddenlyinterrupted by the loud howling and barking of a dog. The baron and thechaplain started up. "It is Leo, Sir Ralph's dog, " exclaimed the former, "what in God's name can be the matter?" and the two rushed out. 

The Lady Alianore, at her orisons above, heard the same terrible howl andbark. She instantly descended to the courtyard; as she came there, theouter gate was opened, and Leo, the knight's dog, flew past the wardour, and ran to the feet of the lady. The animal's mouth was blood-stained, and his glaring eye-balls and ruffled crest showed the extent of his furyand despair. 

"Something dreadful has happened to Sir Ralph, " she cried, and urgedby the dog, who had seized her robe, she hurried through the gate, and crossed the drawbridge, with a rapidity those who followed couldnot arrest. 

When the baron, his chaplain, and his domestics had proceeded a littlebeyond a quarter of a mile upon the road, a fearful sight met their view. 

The knight lay dead upon the green sward by the side of the highway; apoignard which had effected the mortal wound, still rested fixed into hisback. His body was locked fast in the embrace of the Lady Alianore, wholay senseless upon it: the dog stood by, howling piteously. No tracecould be discovered of who had done the deed. No proof was there beyondthe dagger itself, which was of Oriental fashion, and bore theinscription in Latin _Hoc propter verba tua_; naught beyond that andanother circumstance, which went to show that the knight had been slainby an eastern enemy. The dog, as he re-entered the castle, calledattention to some pieces of blood-stained rag, which, from theirappearance, had dropped from his mouth; one of these, the innermost, wasin texture and pattern evidently part of a Syrian garment. 

The Lady Alianore did not die under this dreadful calamity: she lived tomourn. The knight was interred within the precinct of the Abbey Church ofGloucester; his tomb and effigy were in a niche at an angle of thecloisters. Here would Alianore continually come, accompanied by Leo, who, since his master's death, never left her side; here would she stop, fixedly gazing upon the monument, the tear in her eye, and the chill ofhopeless sorrow in her heart. There are, indeed, few of us, who, wandering through the interior of some noble ecclesiastical edifice, cansuppress a feeling of melancholy, when we view the sepulchre of a knightof repute, who has died in his prime, in the midst of his achievementsand his fame, and who, clad in the harness of his pride, liesoutstretched in the marble before us. Courage and courtesy, chivalry andChristianity, are buried there--there the breast, replete with honor, theheart to feel, and the right arm to defend. The monument tells of thesudden extinguishment of some bright light that shone in a semi-barbarousage, which had its main civilization and refinement from knights andchurchmen solely. If this sight would sadden a stranger soul, what musthave been the deep grief of the lady as she contemplated the coldmemorial of Sir Ralph, and felt that the consummation of her wholeearthly comfort was there entombed! A secret sentiment that satisfied, orrather softened her mental agony, brought her again and again to theplace--ay, again and again to gaze upon the grave, and then to retireinto the church to long and ardent prayer. 

About two years after the knight had been dead, the Lady Alianore was onemorning departing through the cloisters from a visit to the tomb, whenher attention was suddenly arrested by a low growl from the dog whoaccompanied her. She turned back, and saw two persons in the garb offoreign merchants or traders, the one pointing out to the other theknight's monumental effigy. Scarcely had she made the observation, whenLeo rushed from her side, and flew at the throat of him who wasexhibiting the grave; in an instant he brought him to the ground; theother endeavored to escape, but some sacristans who heard the noise, hastened to the spot, and the men were arrested. 

On examination, the two pretended merchants were found to wear easternhabilaments beneath their long gowns, and the cloth of the turban wasconcealed under the broad brimmed hat of each. They both had daggers, andupon the arm of the one the dog had seized, there was the deep scar ofwhat seemed to be a desperate bite. Further proof became needless, forwhen every chance of escape was gone, they made a full confession, andappeared to glory in it. They were emissaries from the Old Man of theMountain. The one on a previous occasion had journeyed from the far eastto do his fearful master's bidding, and had stabbed the knight in theback, on the evening he rode in his gladness from the abode of hisaffianced bride. The fanatic himself narrowly escaped destruction at thetime; for the dog had fixed his teeth into his arm, and it was only byallowing the flesh to be torn out, (his dagger was in his victim, ) thathe contrived to reach a swift Arabian horse, which bore him from thescene. He had since returned to Phoenicia, and had once more come toEngland, bringing with him a comrade to remove a doubt expressed by hismaster, and to testify to the monarch of the Mountain how effectively hisobject had been accomplished. 

The Baron de Botetourt, with the assent of the crown, caused the twomiscreants to be hanged upon a gibbet on the summit of his castle, theirturbans tied to their heels. Leo, as if he had nothing more to live for, soon after pined and died. The Lady Alianore, retired into a convent, andeventually became its abbess. During the course of her monastic life, shepreserved in silence her undying regret for the knight, and therecollection of her happiness, so miserably thwarted. She was always kindand gentle, yet always also dignified and reserved. On her death-bed, sherequested that her remains might be interred in the Abbey of Gloucester, nigh unto the tomb of Sir Ralph de Sudley, and that her monumental tabletshould contain no more than her name and state, and an inscriptionpointing out the extreme vanity of all human felicity. Such a memorial, it is said, was, until entirely effaced by time, to be seen, read, andthought upon, within the cloisters of Gloucester's time-honored andsanctified cathedral.