Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland. 

HISTORICAL, TRADITIONARY, & IMAGINATIVE. 

WITH A GLOSSARY. 

REVISED BY ALEXANDER LEIGHTON, _One of the Original Editors and Contributors_. 

VOL. XXII. 

1884. 

CONTENTS. 

UPS AND DOWNS; OR, DAVID STUART'S ACCOUNT OF HIS PILGRIMAGE, (_JohnMackay Wilson_), THE BURGHER'S TALES. THE ANCIENT BUREAU. (_Alexander Leighton_), LADY RAE, (_Alexander Campbell_), THE DIAMOND EYES, (_Alexander Leighton_), DAVID LORIMER, (_Anon_. )

THE CONVICT, (_Anon_. )

THE AMATEUR ROBBERY, (_Alexander Leighton_), THE PROCRASTINATOR, (_John Mackay Wilson_), THE TEN OF DIAMONDS, (_Alexander Leighton_), WILSON'S TALES OF THE BORDERS, AND OF SCOTLAND. 

 * * * * *

UPS AND DOWNS; OR, DAVID STUART'S ACCOUNT OF HIS PILGRIMAGE. 

Old David Stuart was the picture of health--a personification ofcontentment. When I knew him, his years must have considerably exceededthreescore; but his good-natured face was as ruddy as health could makeit; his hair, though mingled with grey, was as thick and strong as if hehad been but twenty; his person was still muscular and active; and, moreover, he yet retained, in all their freshness, the feelings of hisyouth, and no small portion of the simplicity of his childhood. I lovedDavid, not only because he was a good man, but because there was a greatdeal of _character_ or _originality_ about him; and though his brow wascheerful, the clouds of sorrow had frequently rested upon it. More thanonce when seated by his parlour fire, and when he had finished his pipe, and his afternoon tumbler stood on the table beside him, I have heardhim give the following account of the ups and downs--the trials, thejoys, and sorrows--which he had encountered in his worldly pilgrimage;and, to preserve the interest of the history, I shall give it in David'sown idiom, and in his own words. 

"I ne'er was a great traveller, " David was wont to begin: "through thelength o' Edinburgh, and as far south as Newcastle, is a' that my legsken about geography. But I've had a good deal o' crooks and thraws, andups and downs, in the world for a' that. My faither was in the drovingline, and lived in the parish o' Coldstream. He did a good deal o'business, baith about the fairs on the Borders, at Edinburgh marketevery week, and sometimes at Morpeth. He was a bachelor till he wasfive-and-forty, and he had a very decent lass keep'd his house, theyca'd Kirsty Simson. Kirsty was a remarkably weel-faur'd woman, and anumber o' the farm lads round about used to come and see her, as weel astrades' chields frae about Coldstream and Birgham--no that she gied themony encouragement, but that it was her misfortune to hae a gude-lookingface. So, there was ae night that my faither cam' hame frae Edinburgh, and, according to his custom, he had a drap in his e'e--yet no saemeikle but that he could see a lad or twa hingin' about the house. Hewas very angry; and, 'Kirsty, ' said he, 'I dinna like thae youngsters tocome about the house. '

"'I'm sure, sir, ' said she, 'I dinna encourage them. '

"'Weel, Kirsty, ' said he, 'if that's the way, if ye hae nae objections, I'll marry ye mysel'. '

"'I dinna see what objections I should hae, ' said she, and, without onymair courtship, in a week or twa they were married; and, in course o'time, I was born. I was sent to school when I was about eight yearsauld, but my education ne'er got far'er than the rule o' three. Before Iwas fifteen, I assisted my faither at the markets, and in a short timehe could trust me to buy and sell. There was one very dark night in themonth o' January, when I was little mair than seventeen, my faither andme were gaun to Morpeth, and we were wishing to get forward wi' thebeasts as far as Whittingham; but just as we were about half a mile dounthe loanin' frae Glanton, it cam' awa ane o' the dreadfu'est storms thate'er mortal was out in. The snaw literally fell in a solid mass, andevery now and then the wind cam' roarin' and howlin' frae the hills, andthe fury o' the drift was terrible. I was driven stupid and halfsuffocated. My faither was on a strong mare, and I was on a bit powney;and amang the cattle there was a camstairy three-year-auld bull, thatwad neither hup nor drive. We had it tied by the foreleg and the horns;but the moment the drift broke ower us, the creature grew perfectlyunmanageable; forward it wadna gang. My faither had strucken at it, whenthe mad animal plunged its horns into the side o' the mare, and he fellto the ground. I could just see what had happened, and that was a'. Ijumped aff the powney, and ran forward. 'O faither!' says I, 'ye're nohurt, are ye?' He was trying to rise, but before I could reachhim--indeed, before I had the words weel out o' my mouth--the animalmade a drive at him! 'O Davy!' he cried, and he ne'er spak mair! Wegenerally carried pistols, and I had presence o' mind to draw ane out o'the breast-pocket o' my big coat, and shoot the animal dead on the spot. I tried to raise my faither in my arms, and, dark as it was, I could seehis blood upon the snaw--and a dreadfu' sight it was for a son to see! Icouldna see where he had been hurt; and still, though he groaned butonce, I didna think he was dead, and I strove and strove again to lifthim upon the back o' the powney, and take him back to Glanton; butthough I fought wi' my heart like to burst a' the time, I couldnaaccomplish it. 'Oh, what shall I do?' said I, and cried and shouted forhelp--for the snaw fell sae fast, and the drift was sae terrible, that Iwas feared that, even if he werena dead, he wad be smothered and buriedup before I could ride to Glanton and back. And, as I cried, our poordog Rover came couring to my faither's body and licked his hand, and itspitiful howls mingled wi' the shrieks o' the wind. No kennin' what todo, I lifted my faither to the side o' the road, and tried to place him, half sitting like, wi' his back to the drift, by the foot o' the hedge. 'Oh, watch there, Rover, ' said I; and the poor dog ran yowlin' to hisfeet, and did as I desired it. I sprang upon the back o' the powney, andflew up to the town. Within five minutes I was back, and in a short timea number o' folk wi' lichts cam' to our assistance. My faither wascovered wi' blood, but without the least sign o' life. I thought myheart wad break, and for a time my screams were heard aboon the ragin'o' the storm. My faither was conveyed up to the inn, and, on beingstripped, it was found that the horn o' the animal had entered his backbelow the left shouther; and when a doctor frae Alnwick saw the bodynext day, he said he must have died instantly--and, as I have told ye, he never spoke, but just cried, 'O Davy!'

"My feelings were in such a state that I couldna write mysel', and I gota minister to send a letter to my mother, puir woman, stating what hadhappened. An acquaintance o' my faither's looked after the cattle, anddisposed o' them at Morpeth; and I, having hired a hearse at Alnwick, got the body o' my faither taen hame. A sorrowfu' hame-gaun it was, yemay weel think. Before ever we reached the house, I heard the shrieks o'my puir mither. 'O my faitherless bairn!' she cried, as I entered thedoor; but before she could rise to meet me, she got a glent o' thecoffin which they were takin' out o' the hearse, and utterin' a suddenscream, her head fell back, and she gaed clean awa. 

"After my faither's funeral, we found that he had died worth only aboutfour hundred pounds when his debts were paid; and as I had been bred inthe droving line, though I was rather young, I just continued it, and mymother and me kept house thegither. 

"This was the only thing particular that happened to me for the nextthirteen years, or till I was thirty. My mother still kept the house, and I had nae thoughts o' marrying: no but that I had gallanted a weebit wi' the lasses now and then, but it was naething serious, and wasonly to be neighbour-like. I had ne'er seen ane that I could think o'takin' for better for warse; and, anither thing, if I had seen ane toplease me, I didna think my mother would be comfortable wi' a young wifein the house. Weel, ye see, as I was telling ye, things passed on inthis way till I was thirty, when a respectable flesher in Edinburgh thatI did a good deal o' business wi', and that had just got married, saysto me in the Grassmarket ae day: 'Davy, ' says he, 'ye're no gaun out o'the toun the night--will ye come and tak' tea and supper wi' the wifeand me, and a freend or twa?'

"'I dinna care though I do, ' says I; 'but I'm no just in a tea-drinkin'dress. '

"'Ne'er mind the dress, ' says he. So, at the hour appointed, I steppedawa ower to Hanover Street, in the New Town, where he lived, and wasshown into a fine carpeted room, wi' a great looking-glass, in a giltframe, ower the chimley-piece--ye could see yoursel' at full length in'tthe moment you entered the door. I was confounded at the carpets and theglass, and a sofa, nae less; and, thinks I, 'This shows what kind o'bargains ye get frae me. ' There were three or four leddies sitting inthe room; and 'Mr. Stuart, leddies, ' said the flesher; 'Mr. Stuart, Mrs. So-and-so, ' said he again--'Miss Murray, Mr. Stuart. ' I was like to drapat the impudence o' the creatur--he handed me about as if I had been abairn at a dancin' school. 'Your servant, leddies, ' said I; and didnaken where to look, when I got a glimpse o' my face in the glass, and sawit was as red as crimson. But I was mair than ever put about when thetea was brought in, and the creatur says to me, 'Mr. Stuart, will youassist the leddies?' 'Confound him, ' thought I, 'has he brought me hereto mak' a fule o'me!' I did attempt to hand round the tea and toast, when, wi' downright confusion, I let a cup fall on Miss Murray's gown. Icould have died wi' shame. 'Never mind--never mind, sir!' said she;'there is no harm done;' and she spoke sae proper and sae kindly, I wasin love wi' her very voice. But when I got time to observe her face, itwas a perfect picture; and through the hale night after, I could donaething but look at and think o' Miss Murray. 

"'Man, ' says I to the flesher the next time I saw him, 'wha was yon MissMurray?' 'No match for a Grassmarket dealer, Davy, ' says he. 'I wasthinkin' that, ' says I; 'but I wad like to be acquainted wi' her. ' 'Yeshall be that, ' says he; and, after that, there was seldom a monthpassed that I was in Edinburgh but I saw Miss Murray. But as tocourtin', that was out o' the question. 

"A short time after this, a relation o' my mither's, wha had been amerchant in London, dee'd, and it was said we were his nearest heirs;and that as he had left nae will, if we applied, we would get theproperty, which was worth about five thousand pounds. Weel, three orfour years passed awa, and we heard something about the lawsuit, butnaething about the money. I was vexed for having onything to say to it. I thought it was only wasting a candle to chase a will-o'-the-wisp. About the time I speak o', my mither had turned very frail. I saw therewas a wastin' awa o' nature, and she wadna be lang beside me. The daybefore her death, she took my hand, and 'Davy, ' says she to me--'Davy, 'poor body, she repeated (I think I hear her yet)--'it wad been a greatcomfort to me if I had seen ye settled wi' a decent partner before Idee'd; but it's no to be. '

"Weel, as I was saying, my mither dee'd, and I found the house verydowie without her. It wad be about three months after her death--I hadbeen at Whitsunbank; and when I cam' hame, the servant lassie put aletter into my hands; and 'Maister, ' says she, 'there's a letter--can itbe for you, think ye?' It was directed, 'David Stuart, _Esquire_ (naeless), for----, by Coldstream. ' So I opened the seal, and, to mysurprise and astonishment, I found it was frae the man o' business I hademployed in London, stating that I had won the law-plea, and that Imight get the money whene'er I wanted it. I sent for the siller the verynext post. Now, ye see, I was sick and tired o' being a bachelor. I hadlang wished to be settled in a comfortable matrimonial way--that is, frae e'er I had seen Miss Murray. But, ye see, while I was a drover, Iwas very little at hame--indeed I was waur than an Arawbian--and hadvery little peace or comfort either, and I thought it was nae use takin'a wife until something better might cast up. But this wasna the onlyreason. There wasna a woman on earth that I thought I could live happywi' but Miss Murray, and she belanged to a genteel family: whether shehad ony siller or no, I declare, as I'm to be judged hereafter, I neverdid inquire. But I saw plainly it wadna do for a rough country drover, jauped up to the very elbows, and sportin' a handfu' o' pound-notes theday, and no' worth a penny the morn--I say, I saw plainly it wadna dofor the like o' me to draw up by her elbow, and say 'Here's a fine day, ma'am, ' or, 'Hae ye ony objections to a walk?' or something o' thatsort. But it was weel on for five years since I had singled her out; andthough I never said a word anent the subject o' matrimony, yet I hadreason to think she had a shrewd guess that my heart louped quicker whenshe opened her lips than if a regiment o' infantry had stealed behint meunobserved, and fired their muskets ower my shouther; and I sometimesthought that her een looked as if she wished to say, 'Are ye no gaun toask me, David?'

"But still, when I thought she had been brought up a leddy in a kind o'manner, I durstna venture to mint the matter; but I was fully resolvedand determined, should I succeed in getting the money I was trying for, to break the business clean aff hand. So, ye see, as soon as I got thesiller, what does I do but sits down and writes her a letter--and sic aletter! I tauld her a' my mind as freely as though I had been speakin'to you. Weel, ye see, I gaed bang through to Edinburgh at ance, no threedays after my letter; and up I goes to the Lawnmarket, where she wasliving wi' her mother, and raps at the door without ony ceremony. Butwhen I had rapped, I was in a swither whether to staun till they cameout or no, for my heart began to imitate the knocker, or rather to tellme how I ought to have knocked; for it wasna a loud, solid drover'sknock like mine, but it kept rit-tit-tat-ting on my breast like theknock of a hairdresser's 'prentice bringing a bandbox fu' o' curls andither knick-knackeries, for a leddy to pick and choose on for a fancyball; and my face lowed as though ye were haudin' a candle to it; whenout comes the servant, and I stammers out, 'Is your mistress in?' saysI. 'Yes, sir, ' says she; 'walk in. ' And in I walked; but I declare Ididna ken whether the floor carried me, or I carried the floor; and whashould I see but an auld leddy wi' spectacles--the maiden's mistress, sure enough, though no mine, but my mother-in-law that was to be. So shelooked at me, and I looked at her. She made a low curtsey, and I triedto mak' a bow; while all the time ye might hae heard my heart beatin' atthe opposite side o' the room. 'Sir, ' says she. 'Ma'am, ' says I. I wadhae jumped out o' the window had it no been four stories high; but sinceI've gane this far, I maun say something, thinks I. 'I've ta'en theliberty o' callin', ma'am, ' says I. 'Very happy to see ye, sir, ' saysshe. Weel, thinks I, I'm glad to hear that, however; but had it been tosave my life, I didna ken what to say next. So I sat down; and at lengthI ventured to ask, 'Is your daughter, Miss Jean, at hame, ma'am?' saysI. 'I wate she is, ' quo' she. 'Jean!' she cried wi' a voice that madethe house a' dirl again. 'Comin', mother, ' cried my flower o' theforest; and in she cam', skippin' like a perfect fairy. But when she sawme, she started as if she had seen an apparition, and coloured up to thevery e'ebrows. As for me, I trembled like an ash leaf, and steppedforward to meet her. I dinna think she was sensible o' me takin' her bythe hand; and I was just beginning to say again, 'I've taken theliberty, ' when the auld wife had the sense and discretion to leave us byour-sel's. I'm sure and certain I never experienced such a relief sinceI was born. My head was absolutely ringing wi' dizziness and love. Imade twa or three attempts to say something grand, but I never gothalf-a-dozen words out; and finding it a' nonsense, I threw my armsaround her waist, and pressed her beatin' breast to mine, and stealing ahearty kiss, the whole story that I had made such a wark about was owerin a moment. She made a wee bit fuss, and cried 'Oh fie!' and 'Sir!' orsomething o' that kind; but I held her to my breast, declaring myintentions manfully--that I had been dying for her for five years, andnow that I was a gentleman, I thought I might venture to speak. In fact, I held her in my arms until she next door to said 'Yes!'

"Within a week we had a'thing settled. I found out she had nae fortune. Her mother belanged to a kind o' auld family, that, like mony ithers, cam' down the brae wi' Prince Charles, poor fallow; and they were baithrank Episcopawlians. I found the mither had just sae muckle a year fraesome o' her far-awa relations; and had it no been that they happened toca' me Stuart, and I tauld her a rigmarole about my grandfaither andCulloden, so that she soon made me out a pedigree, about which I kennednae mair than the man o' the moon, but keept saying 'yes' and'certainly' to a' she said--I say, but for that, and confound me, if shewadna hae curled up her nose at me and my five thousand pounds into thebargain, though her lassie should hae starved. But Jeannie was a perfectangel. She was about two or three and thirty, wi' light brown hair, hazel e'en, and a waist as jimp and sma' as ye ever saw upon a humancreature. She dressed maist as plain as a Quakeress, but was a patterno' neatness. Indeed, a blind man might seen she was a leddy born andbred; and then for sense, haud at ye there, I wad matched her againstthe minister and the kirk elders put thegither. But she took that o' hermither; o' whom mair by-and-by. 

"As I was saying, she was an Episcopawlian, --a downright, open-daydefender o' Archbishop Laud and the bloody Claverhouse; and she wishedto prove down through me the priority and supremacy o' bishops owerpresbyteries, --just downright nonsense, ye ken; but there's naeaccounting for sooperstition. A great deal depends on how a body'sbrought up. But what vexed me maist was to think that she wad be gaun toae place o' public worship on the Sabbath, and me to anither, just liketwa strangers; and maybe if her minister preached half an hour langerthan mine, or mine half an hour langer than hers, or when we had naeintermission, then there was the denner spoiled, and the servant nokenned what time to hae it ready; for the mistress said ane o'clock, andthe maister said twa o'clock. Now, I wadna gie tippence for a caulddenner. 

"But, as I was telling ye about the auld wife, she thocht fit to readbaith us a bit o' a lecture. 

"'Now, bairns, ' said she, 'I beseech ye, think weel what ye are about;for it were better to rue at the very foot o' the altar, than to rue itbut ance afterwards, and that ance be for ever. I dinna say this to casta damp upon your joy, nor that I doubt your affection for are another;but I say it as ane who has been a wife, and seen a good deal o' theworld; an, ' oh bairns! I say it as a _mother_! Marriage without love islike the sun in January--often clouded, often trembling through storms, but aye without heat; and its pillow is comfortless as a snow-wreath. But although love be the principal thing, remember it is not the onlything necessary. Are ye sure that ye are perfectly acquainted wi' eachother's characters and tempers? Aboon a', are ye sure that ye esteem andrespect ane anither? Without this, and ye may think that ye like eachother, but it's no real love. It's no that kind o' liking that's tolast through married years, and be like a singing bird in your breaststo the end o' your days. No, Jeannie, unless your very souls be, as itwere, cemented thegither, unless ye see something in him that ye see innaebody else, and unless he sees something in you that he sees innaebody else, dinna marry still. Passionate lovers dinna aye mak'affectionate husbands. Powder will bleeze fiercely awa in a moment; butthe smotherin' peat retains fire and heat among its very ashes. Rememberthat, in baith man and woman, what is passion to-day may be disgust themorn. Therefore, think now; for it will be ower late to think o' myadvice hereafter. '

"'Troth, ma'am, ' said I, 'and I'm sure I'll be very proud to ca' sic asensible auld body _mither_!'

"'Rather may ye be proud to call my bairn your _wife_, ' said she; 'for, where a man ceases to be proud o' his wife, upon all occasions, and atall times, or where a wife has to blush for her husband, ye may sayfareweel to their happiness. However, David, ' continued she, 'I dinnadoubt but ye will mak' a gude husband; for ye're a sensible, and Ireally think a deservin' lad; and were it nae mair than your name, thename o' Stuart wad be a passport to my heart. There's but ae thing thatI'm feared on--just ae fault that I see in ye; indeed I may say it's thebeginning o' a' ithers, and I wad fain hae ye promise to mend it; for ithas brought mair misery upon the marriage state than a' the sufferingso' poverty and the afflictions o' death put thegither. '

"'Mercy me, ma'am!' exclaimed I, 'what de ye mean? Ye've surely beenmisinformed. '

"'I've observed it mysel', David, ' said she seriously. 

"'Goodness, ma'am! ye confound me!' says I; 'if it's onything that'sbad, I'll deny it point blank. '

"'Ye mayna think it bad, ' says she again, 'but I fear ye like a _dram_, and my bairn's happiness demands that I should speak o' it. '

"'A dram!' says I; 'preserve us! is there ony ill in a _dram?_--that'sthe last thing that I wad hae thought about. '

"'Ask the broken-hearted wife, ' says she, 'if there be ony ill in adram--ask the starving family--ask the jailer and the gravedigger--askthe doctor and the minister o' religion--ask where ye see roups o'furniture at the cross, or the auctioneer's flag wavin' frae thewindow--ask a deathbed--ask eternity, David Stuart, and they will tellye if there be ony ill in a dram. '

"'I hope, ma'am, ' says I, --and I was a guid deal nettled, --'I hope, ma'am, ye dinna tak' me to be a drunkard. I can declare freely, thatunless maybe at a time by chance (and the best o' us will mak' a slipnow and then), I never tak' aboon twa or three glasses at a time. Indeed, three's just my set. I aye say to my cronies, there is nae lucktill the second tumbler, and nae peace after the fourth. So ye perceive, there's not the smallest danger o' me. '

"'Ah, but, David, ' replied she, 'there _is_ danger. Habits growstronger, nature weaker, and resolution offers less and less resistance;and ye may come to make four, five, or six glasses your set; and fraethat to a bottle--your grave--and my bairn a broken-hearted widow. '

"'Really, ma'am, ' says I, ye talked very sensibly before, but ye are awawi' the harrows now--quite unreasonable a'thegither. However, to satisfyye upon that score, I'll mak' a vow this very moment, that, except'----

"'Mak' nae rash vows, ' says she; 'for a breath mak's them, and less thana breath unmak's them. But mind that, while ye wad be comfortable wi'your cronies, my bairn wad be frettin' her lane; and though she mightsay naething when ye cam hame, that wadna be the way to wear her loveround your neck like a chain of gold; but, night after night, it wadbreak away link by link, till the whole was lost; and if ye didna hate, ye wad soon find ye were disagreeable to each other. Nae true woman willcondescend to love ony man lang, wha can find society he prefers to hersin an alehouse. I dinna mean to say that ye should never enter acompany; but dinna mak' a practice o't. '

"Weel, the wedding morning cam, and I really thocht it was a greatblessin' folk hadna to be married every day. My neckcloth wadna tie asit used to tie, and but that I wadna swear at onybody on the day o' mymarriage, I'm sure I wad hae wished some ill wish on the fingers o' thelaundress. She had starched the muslins!--a circumstance, I am perfectlycertain, unheard of in the memory o' man, and a thing which my motherne'er did. It was stiff, crumpled, and clumsy. I vowed it wasinsupportable. It was within half an hour o' the time o' gaun to thechapel. I had tried a 'rose-knot, ' a 'witch-knot, ' a 'chaise-driver'sknot, ' and a 'running-knot, ' wi' every kind o' knot that fingers couldtwist the neckcloth into, but the confounded starch made every ane lookwaur than anither. Three neckcloths I had rendered unwearable, and thefourth I tied in a 'beau-knot' in despair. The frill o' my sark-breastwadna lie in the position in which I wanted it! For the first time myvery hair rose in rebellion--it wadna lie right; and I cried, 'Themischief tak' the barber!' The only part o' my dress wi' which I wassatisfied, was a spotless pair o' nankeen pantaloons. I had a dog theyca'ed Mettle--it was a son o' poor Rover, that I mentioned to yebefore, Weel, it had been raining through the night, and Mettle had beenout in the street. The instinct o' the poor dumb brute was puzzled tocomprehend the change that had recently taken place in my appearance andhabits, and its curiosity was excited. I was sitting before thelooking-glass, and had just finished tying my cravat, when Mettle cambouncing into the room; he looked up in my face inquisitively, and, tounriddle mair o' the matter, placed his unwashed paws upon my unsoilednankeens. Every particular claw left its ugly impression. It wasprovoking beyond endurance. I raised my hand to strike him, but the poorbrute wagged his tail, and I only pushed him down, saying, 'Sorrow tak'ye, Mettle, do ye see what ye've dune?' So I had to gang to the kitchenfire and stand before it to dry the damp, dirty footprints o' theoffender. I then found that the waistcoat wadna sit without wrinkles, such as I had ne'er seen before upon a waistcoat o' mine. The coat, too, was insupportably tight below the arms; and, as I turned half roundbefore the glass, I saw that it hung loose between the shouthers! 'Assure as a gun, ' says I, 'the stupid soul o' a tailor has sent me hamethe coat o' a humph-back in a mistak'!' My hat was fitted on in everypossible manner, ower the brow and aff the brow, now straight, nowcocked to the right side and again to the left, but to no purpose; Icouldna place it to look like mysel', or as I wished. But half-pasteight chimed frae St. Giles'. I had ne'er before spent ten minutes todress, shaving included, and that morning I had begun at seven! Therewas not another moment to spare; I let my hat fit as it would, seized mygloves, and rushed down stairs, and up to the Lawnmarket, where Iknocked joyfully at the door o' my bonny bride. 

"When we were about to depart for the chapel, the auld leddy rose togie us her blessing, and placed Jeannie's hand within mine. She shed afew quiet tears (a common circumstance wi' mithers on similaroccasions); and 'Now, Jeannie, ' said she, 'before ye go, I have justanither word or twa to say to ye'--

"'Dearsake, ma'am!' said I, for I was out o' a' patience, 'we'll do veryweel wi' what we've heard just now, and ye can say onything ye like whenwe come back. '

"There was only an elderly gentleman and a young leddy accompanied us tothe chapel; for Jeannie and her mother said that that was mair genteelthan to have a gilravish o' folk at our heels. For my part, I thought, as we were to be married, we micht as weel mak' a wedding o't. I, however, thought it prudent to agree to their wish, which I did the mairreadily, as I had nae particular acquaintance in Edinburgh. The onlypoint that I wad not concede was being conveyed to the chapel in acoach. That my plebeian blood, notwithstanding my royal name o' Stuart, could not overcome. 'Save us a'!' said I, 'if I wadna _walk_ to bemarried, what in the three kingdoms wad tempt me to walk?'

"'Weel, ' said the auld leddy, 'my daughter will be the first o' ourfamily that ever gaed on foot to the altar. '

"'An' I assure ye, ma'am, ' said I, 'that I would be the first o' myfamily that ever gaed in ony ither way; and, in my opinion, to gang onfoot shows a demonstration o' affection and free-will, whereas gaun in acarriage looks as if there were unwillingness or compulsion in thematter. ' So she gied up the controversy. Weel, the four o' us walked awadoun the Lawnmarket and High Street, and turned into a close by the tapo' the Canon gate, where the Episcopawlian chapel was situated. Forseveral days I had read ower the marriage service in the prayer-book, inorder to master the time to say 'I will, ' and other matters. Nevertheless, no sooner did I see the white gown of the clergyman, andfeel Jeannie's hand trembling in mine, than he micht as weel hae spokenin Gaelic. I mind something about the ring, and, when the minister wasdone, I whispered to the best man, 'It's a' ower now?' 'Yes, ' said he. 'Heeven be thankit!' thought I. 

"Weel, ye see, after being married, and as I had been used to an activelife a' my days, I had nae skill in gaun about like a gentleman wi' myhands in my pockets, and I was anxious to tak' a farm. But Jeannie didnot like the proposal, and my mother-in-law wadna hear tell o't; so, byher advice, I put out the money, and we lived upon the interest. For sixyears everything gaed straight, and we were just as happy and ascomfortable as a family could be. We had three bairns: the eldest was adaughter, and we ca'ed her Margaret, after her grandmother, who livedwi' us; the second was a son, and I named him Andrew, after my faither;and our third, and youngest, we ca'ed Jeannie, after her mother. Theywere as clever, bonnie, and obedient bairns as ye could see, andeverybody admired them. There was ane Luckie Macnaughton kept a tavernin Edinburgh at the time. A' sort o' respectable folk used to frequentthe house, and I was in the habit o' gaun at night to smoke my pipe andhear the news about Bonaparte and the rest o' them; but it was veryseldom that I exceeded three tumblers. Weel, among the customers therewas ane that I had got very intimate wi'--as genteel and decent alooking man as ye could see; indeed I took him to be a particularserious and honest man. So there was ae night that I was rather mairthan ordinary hearty, and says he to me: 'Mr Stuart, ' says he, 'willyou lend your name to a bit paper for me?' 'No, I thank ye, sir, ' saysI; 'I never wish to be caution for onybody. ' 'It's of no consequence, 'said he, and there was no more passed. But as I was rising to gang hame, 'Come, tak' anither, Mr. Stuart, ' said he; 'I'm next the wa' wi'ye--I'll stand treat. ' Wi' sair pressing I was prevailed upon to sitdoun again, and we had anither and anither, till I was perfectlyinsensible. What took place, or how I got hame, I couldna tell, and theonly thing I remember was a head fit to split the next day, and Jeannievery ill pleased and powty-ways. However, I thought nae mair about it, and I was extremely glad I had refused to be bond for the person whoasked me; for within three months I learned that he had broken andabsconded wi' a vast o' siller. It was just a day or twa after I hadheard the intelligence, I was telling Jeannie and her mother o' thecircumstance, and what an escape I had had, when the servant lassieshowed a bank clerk into the room. 'Tak' a seat, sir, ' said I, for I haddealings wi' the bank. 'This is a bad business, Mr. Stuart, ' said he. 'What business?' said I, quite astonished. 'Your being security for Mr. So-and-so, ' said he. 'Me!' cried I, starting up in the middle o' thefloor--'Me!--the scoundrel--I denied him point blank!' 'There is yourown signature for a thousand pounds, ' said the clerk. 'A thousandfuries!' exclaimed I, stamping my foot; 'it's a forgery--an infernalforgery!' 'Mr. Such-a-one is witness to your handwriting, ' said theclerk. I was petrified; I could hae drawn down the roof o' the houseupon my head to bury me! In a moment a confused recollection o' theproceedings at Luckie Macnaughton's flashed across my memory, like aflame from the bottomless pit! There was a look o' witherin' reproach inmy mother-in-law's een, and I heard her mutterin' between her teeth, 'Iaye said what his three tumblers wad come to. ' But my dear Jeannie boreit like a Christian, as she is. She cam forward to me, an', poor thing, she kissed my cheek, and says she, 'Dinna distress yoursel', David, dear--it cannot be helped now--let us pray that this may be a lesson forthe future. ' I flung my arm round her neck--I couldna speak; but at lastI said, 'Oh Jeannie, it will be a lesson, and your affection will be alesson!' Some o' your book-learned folk wad ca' this conduct philosophyin Jeannie; but I, wha kenned every thought in her heart, was aware thatit proceeded from her resignation as a true Christian, and her affectionas a dutiful wife. Weel, the upshot was, I had robbed mysel' out o' athousand pounds as simply as ye wad snuff out a candle. You have heardthe saying, that sorrow ne'er comes singly; and I am sure, in a' myexperience, I have found its truth. At that period I had two thousandpounds, bearing six per cent. , lying in the hands o' a gentleman o'immense property. Everybody believed him to be as sure as the bank. Scores o' folk had money in his hands. The interest was paid punctually, and I hadna the least suspicion. Weel, I was looking ower the papers onemorning at breakfast, and I happened to glance at the list o' bankrupts(a thing I'm no in the habit o' doing), when, mercy me! whose nameshould I see but the very gentleman's that had my twa thousand pounds! Ihad the paper in one hand and a saucer in the other. The saucer and thecoffee gaed smash upon the hearth! I trembled frae head to foot. 'OhDavid! what's the matter?' cried Jeannie. 'Matter!' cried I; 'matter!I'm ruined!--we're a' ruined!' But it's o' nae use dwelling on this. Thefallow didna pay eighteenpence to the pound; and there was threethousand gaen out o' my five! It was nae use, wi' a young family, totalk o' living on the interest o' our money now. 'We maun tak' a farm, 'says I; and baith Jeannie and her mother saw there was naething else forit. So I took a farm which lay partly in the Lammermoors and partly inthe Merse. It took the thick end o' eight hundred pounds to stock it. However, we were very comfortable in it; I found mysel' far mair at hamethan I had been in Edinburgh; for I had employment for baith mind andhands, and Jeannie very soon made an excellent farmer's wife. Auldgrannie, too, said she never had been sae happy; and the bairns were ashealthy as the day was lang. We couldna exactly say that we were makingwhat ye may ca' siller, yet we were losing nothing, and every yearlaying by a little. There was a deepish burn ran near the onstead. Wehad been about three years in the farm, and our youngest lassie wasabout nine years auld. It was the summer time, and she had been paidlingin the burn, and sooming feathers and bits o' sticks; I was lookingafter something that had gaen wrang about the threshin' machine, when Iheard an unco noise get up, and bairns screamin'. I looked out, and Isaw them runnin' and shoutin'--'Miss Jeannie! Miss Jeannie!' I rushedout to the barnyard. 'What is't, bairns?' cried I. 'Miss Jeannie! MissJeannie!' said they, pointing to the burn. I flew as fast as my feetcould carry me. The burn, after a spate on the hills, often cam awa in amoment wi' a fury that naething could resist. The flood had come awaupon my bairn; and there, as I ran, did I see her bonnie yellow hairwhirled round and round, sinking out o' my sight, and carried awa dounwi' the stream. There was a linn about thirty yards frae where I sawher, and oh! how I rushed to snatch a grip o' her before she was carriedower the rocks! But it was in vain--a moment sooner, and I might haesaved her; but she was hurled ower the precipice when I was within anarm's length, and making a grasp at her bit frock! My poor littleJeannie was baith felled and drowned. I plunged into the wheel below thelinn, and got her out in my arms. I ran wi' her to the house, and I laidmy drowned bairn on her mother's knee. Everything that could be done wasdone, and a doctor was brought frae Dunse; but the spark o' life was outo' my bit Jeannie. I felt the bereavement very bitterly; and for many aday, when Margaret and Andrew sat down at the table by our sides, myheart filled; for as I was helpin' their plates, I wad put out my handagain to help anither, but there was nae ither left to help. But Jeannietook our bairn's death far sairer to heart than even I did. For severalyears she never was hersel' again, and just seemed dwinin' awa. Sea-bathing was strongly recommended; and as she had a friend inPortobello, I got her to gang there for a week or twa during summer. Ourdaughter Margaret was now about eighteen, and her brother Andrew aboutfifteen; and as I thought it would do them good, I allowed them to gangwi' their mither to the bathing. They were awa for about a month, and Ifirmly believe that Jeannie was a great deal the better o't. But it wasa dear bathing to me on mony accounts for a' that. Margaret was analtered lassie a'thegither. She used to be as blithe as a lark in May, and now there was nae gettin' her to do onything; but she sat couringand unhappy, and seighin' every handel-a-while, as though she weremiserable. It was past my comprehension, and her mother could assign naeparticular reason for it. As for Andrew, he did naething but yammer, yammer, frae morn till night, about the sea; or sail boats, rigged wi'thread and paper sails, in the burn. When he was at the bathing he hadbeen doun aboot Leith, and had seen the ships, and naething wad servehim but he would be a sailor. Night and day did he torment my life outto set him to sea. But I wadna hear tell o't--his mother was perfectlywild against it, and poor auld grannie was neither to hand nor to bind. We had suffered enough frae the burn at our door, without trusting ouronly son upon the wide ocean. However, all we could say had naeeffect--the craik was never out o' his head; and it was still, 'I willbe a sailor. ' Ae night he didna come in as usual for his four-hours, andsupper time cam, and we sent a' round about to seek him, but naebody hadheard o' him. We were in unco distress, and it struck me at ance that hehad run to sea. I saddled my horse that very night and set out forLeith, but could get nae trace o' him. This was a terrible trial to us, and ye may think what it was when I tell ye it was mair than atwelvemonth before we heard tell o' him; and the first accounts we hadwas a letter by his ain hand, written frae Bengal. We had had a cartdown at Dunse for some bits o' things, and the lad brought the letter inhis pocket; and weel do I mind how Jeannie cam' fleein' wi' it open inher hand across the fields to where I was looking after some workersthinnin' turnips, crying, 'David! David! here's a letter frae Andrew!''Read it! read it!' cried I, for my een were blind wi' joy. But Andrew'srinnin' awa wasna the only trial that we had to bear up against at thistime. As I was tellin' ye, there was an unco change ower Margaret sinceshe had come frae the bathin'; and a while after, a young lad that hermother said they had met wi' at Portobello began to come about thehouse. He was the son o' a merchant in Edinburgh, and pretended that hehad come to learn to be a farmer wi' a neighbour o' ours. He was a wild, thoughtless, foppish-looking lad, and I didna like him; but Margaret, silly thing, was clean daft about him. Late and early I found him aboutthe house, and I tauld him I couldna allow him nor ony person to bewithin my doors at any such hours. Weel, this kind o' wark was carriedon for mair than a year; and a' that I could say or do, Margaret and himwere never separate; till at last he drapped off comin' to the house, and our daughter did naething but seigh and greet. I found that, afterbringing her to the point o' marriage, he either wadna or durstna fulfilhis promise unless I wad pay into his loof a thousand pounds as herportion. I could afford my daughter nae sic sum, and especially no to bethrown awa on the like o' him. But Jeannie cam to me wi' the tears onher cheeks, and 'O David!' says she, 'there's naething for it butpartin' wi' a thousand pounds on the ae hand or our bairn's death--andher--shame on the ither!' Oh! if a knife had been driven through myheart, it couldna pierced it like the word _shame_! As a faither, whatcould I do? I paid him the money, and they were married. 

"It's o' nae use tellin' ye how I gaed back in the farm. In the yearsixteen my crops warna worth takin' aff the ground, and I had twa scoreo' sheep smothered the same winter. I fell behint wi' my rent; andhousehold furniture, farm-stock, and everything I had, were to be soldoff. The day before the sale, wi' naething but a bit bundle carrying inmy hand, I took Jeannie on my ae arm and her puir auld mither on theother, and wi' a sad and sorrowfu' heart we gaed out o' the door o' thehame where our bairns had been brought up, and a sheriff's officersteeked it behint us. Weel, we gaed to Coldstream, and we took a bitroom there, and furnished it wi' a few things that a friend bought backfor us at our sale. We were very sair pinched. Margaret's gudeman ne'erlooked near us, nor rendered us the least assistance, and she hadna itin her power. There was nae ither alternative that I could see; and Iwas just gaun to apply for labouring wark when we got a letter fraeAndrew, enclosing a fifty-pound bank-note. Mony a tear did Jeannie andme shed ower that letter. He informed us that he had been appointed mateo' an East Indiaman, and begged that we would keep ourselves easy; forwhile he had a sixpence, his faither and mither should hae the half o't. Margaret's husband very soon squandered away the money he had got fraeme, as weel as the property he had got frae his faither; and, to escapethe jail, he ran off, and left his wife and family. They cam to stop wi'me; and for five years we heard naething o' him. We had begun a shop inthe spirit and grocery line, and really we were remarkably fortunate. Itwas about six years after I had begun business, ae night just after theshop was shut, Jeannie and her mother, wha was then about ninety, andMargaret and her bairns, and mysel', were a' sittin' round the fire, when a rap cam to the door; ane o' the bairns ran and opened it, and twagentlemen cam in. Margaret gied a shriek, and ane o' them flung himsel'at her feet. 'Mother! faither!' said the other, 'do ye no ken me?' Itwas our son Andrew, and Margaret's gudeman! I jamp up, and Jeannie jampup; auld grannie raise totterin' to her feet, and the bairns screamed, puir things. I got haud o' Andrew, and his mother got haud o' him, andwe a' grat wi' joy. It was such a night o' happiness as I had neverkenned before. Andrew had been made a ship captain. Margaret's husbandhad repented o' a' his follies, and was in a good way o' doing in India;and everything has gane right and prospered wi' our whole family fraethat day to this. "

THE BURGHER'S TALES. 

THE ANCIENT BUREAU. 

The sources of legends are not often found in old sermons; and yet itwill be admitted that there are few remarkable events in man's history, which, if inquired into, will not be found to embrace the elements ofvery impressive pulpit discourses. Even in cases which seem to disprovea special, if not a general Providence, there will always be found inthe account between earth and heaven some "desperate debt, " mayhap an"accommodation bill, " which justifies the ways of God to man. It mayeven be said that the fact of our being generally able to find that itemis a proof of the wonderful adaptability of Christianity to the fortunesand hopes of our race. That ministers avoid the special topics ofpeculiar destinies, may easily be accounted for otherwise than bysupposing that they cannot explain them so as to vindicate God'sjustice; but if ever there was a case where that difficulty would seemto the eye of mere reason to culminate in impossibility, it is thatwhich I have gleaned from a veritable pulpit lecture. I have the sermonin my possession, but from the want of the title-page, I am unable toascertain the author. The date at the end is 1793, and the text is, "Inscrutable are _his_ judgments. "

Inscrutable indeed in the case to which the words were applied--no otherthan an instance of death by starvation, which occurred in Edinburgh inthe year we have just mentioned. In that retreat of poverty calledMiddleton's Entry, which joins the dark street called the Potterrow, andBristo Street, the inhabitants were roused into surprise, if not afeeling approaching to horror, by the discovery that a woman, who hadlived for a period of fifteen years in a solitary room at the top of oneof the tenements, had been found in bed dead. A doctor was called, butbefore he came it was concluded by those who had assembled in the smallroom that she had died from want of food; and such was the fact. Thebody--that of one not yet much past the middle of life, and with faircomplexion and comely features--was so emaciated, that you might havecounted the ribs merely by the eye; and all those parts where the bonesare naturally near the surface exhibited a sharpness which suggested thefancy, that as you may see a phosphorescent skeleton through the glow, you beheld in the candle-light the figure of death under the thincovering of the bones. She realized, in short, the description whichdoctors give of the appearance of those unfortunate beings who die ofwhat is technically called _atrophia familicorum_--that Nemesis ofcivilisation which points scornfully to the victim of want, and thenlooks round on God's bountiful table, set for the meanest of hiscreatures. So we may indite; but rhetoric, which is useless where theimages cannot rise to the dignity or descend to the humiliation of thevisible fact, must always come short of the effect of the plain wordsthat a human creature--perhaps good and amiable and delicate to thatshyness which cannot complain--has died in the very midst of aproclaimed philanthropy, and within the limits of a space comprehendingsmoking tables covered with luxuries, and surrounded by Christian menand women filled with meat and drink to repletion and satiety. 

Some such thoughts might have been passing through the minds of theassembled neighbours; and they could not be said to be the less truethat a shrunk and partially-withered right arm showed that the doom ofthe woman had been so far precipitated by the still remaining effects ofan old stroke of palsy. And the gossip confirmed this, going also intoparticulars of observation, --how she had kept herself so to herself asif she wished to avoid the neighbours, --a fact which to an extentjustified their imputed want of attention; how almost the onlyindividual who had visited her was a peculiar being, in the shape of avery little man, with a slight limp and thin pleasant features, illuminated by a pair of dark, penetrating eyes. For years and years hadhe been seen, always about the same hour of the day, ascending herstair, and carrying a flagon, supposed to contain articles of food. Thenthe gossiping embraced the furniture and other articles in the room, which, however they might have been unnoticed before, had now assumedthe usual interest when seen in the blue light of the acted tragedy: thesmall mahogany table and the two chairs--how strange that they should beof mahogany!--and some of the few marrowless plates in the rack over thefireplace, why, they were absolute china! but above all, the exquisitelittle bureau of French manufacture, with its drawers, its desk, andpigeon-holes, and cunning slides--what on earth was it doing in thatroom, when its value even to a broker would have kept the woman alivefor months? Questions these put by a roused curiosity, and perhaps notworth answer. Was not she a woman, and was not that enough?

Not enough; for legendary details cluster round startling events, andoften carry a moral which may prevent a repetition of these; and so, hadit not been for this apparently inexplicable death by starvation, ourwonderful story might never have gathered listeners round the eveningfire. We must go back some twenty years before the date of the saidsermon to find a certain merchant-burgess of the city of Edinburgh, David Grierson, occupying a portion of a front land situated in theCanongate, a little to the east of Leith Wynd. It would be sheeraffectation in us to pretend that this merchant-burgess had any mentalor physical characteristic about him to justify his appearance in aromance, if we except the power he had shown of amassing wealth, ofwhich he had so much that he could boast the possession of more thantwenty goodly tenements, some of wood and some of stone, besides sharesof ships and bank stock. And no doubt this exception might stand for thething excepted from, for money, though commonly said to be extraneous, is often so far in its influences intraneous, that it changes thefeelings and motives, and enables them to work. And then don't we knowthat it is by extraneous things we are mostly led? But however all thatmay be, certain it is that our merchant-burgess was a great man in hisown house in the Canongate, where his family consisted of RachelGrierson, his natural daughter, by a woman who had been long dead, andWalter Grierson, his legitimate nephew, who had been left an orphan inhis early years, and who was his nearest lawful heir. Two servantscompleted the household; and surely in this rather curious combinationthere might be, if only circumstances were favourable to theirdevelopment, elements which might impart interest to a story. 

So long as the shadow of the dark angel was, as Time counted, far awayfrom him, Burgess David was comparatively happy; but as he got old andolder, he began to realize the condition of the poet--

 "Now pleasure will no longer please, And all the joys of life are gone; I ask no more on earth but ease, To be at peace, and be alone: I ask in vain the winged powers That weave man's destiny on high; In vain I ask the golden hours That o'er my head for ever fly. "

Then he waxed more and more anxious as to what he was to do with hismoney. He tried to put away the thought; but the terrible _magistranecessitas_ went round and round him with ever-diminishing circles, clearly indicating a conflict in which he must succumb. He must make awill; an act which it is said no man is ever in a hearty condition toperform, unless mayhap he is angry, and wishes to cut off an ungratefuldog with a shilling; and besides the general disinclination to sign thedisposal of so much wealth, of which he was more than ordinarily fond, and to give away, as it were, _omnia praeter animam_, in the very viewof giving away the soul too, he was in a great perplexity as to how todivide his means. Nor could he reconcile himself to a division at all, preferring, as the greatly lesser evil, the alternative of destinatinghis fortune all of a lump, with some hope of its being kept together. Asfor Walter, though he had some affection for him, he had not muchconfidence in him, for he had seen that he was hare-brained as regardedthings which suited his fancy, and pig-brained as respected those whichsolicited and required sound judgment; while Rachel, again, waseverything which, among the lower angels, could be comprehended underthe delightful title of "dear soul, " an amiable and devoted creature, asstedfast in her affections as she was wise in the selection of theirobjects. So by revolving in his mind all the beauties of the characterof her who, however disqualified by law, was still of his flesh andblood, yea, of his very nature, as he complacently thought in complimentto himself, he became more and more reconciled to his intention, if thevery thought of making a will, which had been horrible to him, did notbecome even a pleasing kind of meditation. So is it--when Nature imposesan inevitable duty, she gives man the power of inventing a pleasingreason for his obedience; nay, so much of a self-dissembler is he, thathe even cheats himself into the belief that his obedience is an act ofhis own will. In all which he at least proved the value of one of thearguments in favour of marriage; for trite it is to say, a bachelorbears to no one a love which reconciles him to will-making, while afather, in leaving his means to his children, feels as if he were givingto himself. But this plan of our merchant-burgess had in addition aspice of ingenuity in it which still more pleased him--he would socontrive matters that the daughter and the nephew would become, afterhis death, man and wife. He had only some doubts how far their tastesagreed, --probably an absurd condition, in so much as we all know thatlove is often struck out by opposition, and that there is a pleasantsuitability in a husband preferring the head of a herring, and the wifethe tail. 

Having thus arrived at a sense of his duty by the pleasant path of hisaffection, Mr. David Grierson seized the first opportunity whichpresented itself of sounding the heart of Rachel, in order to know inwhat direction her affections ran. Sitting in his big chair, all socomfortably cushioned by the hands of the said Rachel herself, and witha good fire alongside, due also to her unremitting care, he called herto him, and placing his arm round her waist, as he was often in thehabit of doing, said to her--

"Rachel, dear, I feel day by day my strength leaving me, and it may be, nay, will be, that I will not be very much longer with you. "

Rachel looked at him for a little, but said nothing, for, as the sayinggoes, her heart came to her mouth, and she could not have spoken even ifshe would; but the father understood all this, and preferred the muteexpression of a real grief to a hysterical burst--of which, indeed, hercalm genial nature was incapable. 

"Forgive me, dear, " continued he, "for I would not willingly cause yousorrow, but I have a reason for speaking in this grave way. Who is tofill the old arm-chair when I cannot occupy it?"

And he smiled somewhat grimly as he sought her eye, in which he couldobserve the most real of all nature's evidences of emotion. 

"What mean you, father?" she replied, with something like an effort torespond to his humour. 

"Why, then, Rachel, " he said, "to be out with it, I want to know whetheryou have fixed your heart on any one. "

"Only upon you, dear father, " she replied, with a smile which struggledagainst her seriousness. 

"Nay, Rachel, " continued he. "It is no light matter, and I must have ananswer. I intend to leave you my whole fortune, but upon one condition, which is, that if Walter Grierson shall sue for your hand, you willconsent to marry him. "

To this there was a reply given with an alacrity which showed how herheart pointed--"Yes;" then, adding that wonderful little word "but, "which makes such havoc among our resolutions, she paused, while her eyessought the ground. 

"What 'but' can be here?" interjected the old man. "Surely you do notmean to doubt whether _he_ would consent?"

"And yet that is just my doubt, " she replied, as if she felt humiliatedby the admission. 

"Doubt!" cried the father, in rising wrath; "doubt, doubt if a beggarwould consent to be made rich by marrying _you_! Why, Rachel, dear, ifthe fellow were to breathe a sigh of hesitation, he would deserve to bea beggar with more holes than wholes in his gabardine, and too poor evento possess a wallet to carry his bones and crumbs. Have you any reasonfor your strange statement?"

"No, " replied the girl, with a sigh. "It is only my heart that speaks. "

"And the heart never lies, " said he sharply. "But I shall see, " hemuttered to himself, "whether a certain tongue in a certain head shallspeak in the same way. "

"But would it not bring me down, " said she, "were he to think that hewas forced by a promise?"

"A promise!" rejoined he; "why, so it would, my dear. I see you areright. " But then he thought he could sound him without putting anyobligation upon him. "And a pretty obligation it would be, " hecontinued, "for a young fellow cut off with a shilling to bind himselfto consent to be the acceptor of two such gifts as a fine girl and afortune. "

And Burgess David tried to laugh; but the effort was still that of aheavy heart, and, reclining his head upon the back of the chair, herelapsed into those thoughts which, as Age advances to the term whereHope throws down her lamp, press in and in upon the spirit. Rachelglided away quietly, perhaps to think; and certainly she had somethingto think about. 

So, too, doubtless had Mr. David Grierson, who, after indulging in hisreverie, wherein the subject of will-making suggested a match betweenhimself and a certain bridegroom who never says nay, awoke to theinterest of his scheme of match-making in this world. So far he hadaccomplished his object, for he could rely upon his faithful Rachel'sperformance of her promise; and if the two should be married, he knewhow to take care to give her the power of the money, and keep a youth, in whose prudence he had no great faith, in proper check. Next he had tosound the nephew. Nor was it long before he had an opportunity--eventhat same afternoon. 

"Walter, " he began with an abruptness for which probably the young manwas scarcely prepared, "I am getting old, and must now think ofarranging my affairs so as to endeavour to make my fortune serve thepurpose of rendering those happy in whom I have a natural interest. So Ihave some interest also as well as, I suspect, some right to put thequestion to you, whether you ever thought of Rachel Grierson for yourwife?"

"Upon my word, " replied the nephew, with just as little _mauvais honte_as suited his nature, "I never thought of aspiring to the _honour_. "

A word this last which grated on the ear of the rich merchant-burgess, inasmuch as it suggested a suspicion of the figure of speech calledirony, seeing that Rachel Grierson was a bastard, and the youth carriedthe legitimate blood of the Griersons in his veins. 

"Honour or no honour, " replied he sharply, and perhaps contrary to hisoriginal intention, "Rachel Grierson is to inherit my fortune, ay, everypenny thereof. "

"Every penny thereof, " echoed the youth, as if his mind had flown awaywith the words, and dropt them in despair as it flew. 

"Yes, " rejoined the angry uncle, "lands, tenements, hereditaments, shares, dividends, stock, furniture, bed and table linen. "

"And table linen, " echoed the entranced nephew. 

"Yes; everything, " continued the uncle; and calming down as he saw thewhite lips and blank despair of the youth, he added--"And to you I willleave and bequeath my natural-born daughter, Rachel Grierson. "

And as he uttered these significant words, he watched carefully the faceof the youth, where, however, all indications defied his perspicacity, inasmuch as blank astonishment was still the prevailing expression. Butafter some minutes the young man stuttered out--

"A legacy worthy of a nobleman!"

Words that sounded beautifully, because they were true as regardedRachel, whatever they might be as respected his secret intention; yet asthe children vaticinate from the examination of each other's tongues, ifthe uncle had examined the organ, he might have discovered some of thoseblue lines which produce an exclamation from the young augurs. 

"_Words_ worthy, too, of a nobleman, " cried the old man in a tremblingvoice; and holding out his hand, which shook under his emotion ofdelight at hearing his beloved Rachel so praised, he seized that of hisnephew--

"Yes, Walter, " he added, "you have by these words redeemed yourself, andI will take them as an offering of your willingness to accept my legacy;but, remember, I extort no promise, which might reduce the value of ayoung woman's affection, --a gift to be accepted for its own sake. "

"I am content, " said Walter. 

"And I am satisfied, " added the uncle. "But here is wine on the table, "he continued, as he turned his eye in the direction of a decanter ofgood claret, just as if Rachel had, by her art of love, anticipatedwhat he wished at this moment. "Ah, Walter, if she shall watch yourwants as she has done mine, you will live to feel that you cannot want_her_, and live; so fill up a glass for me, and one for yourself, thatwe may drink to the happiness of the dear girl when, after I am dead, she shall become your wedded wife. "

"With all and sundry lands, tenements, hereditaments, and so forth, "cried Walter, with a laugh which might pass as genuine, and which wasresponded to by a chuckle from the dry throat of the uncle, whichcertainly was so. 

So the pledge was taken; and Walter Grierson went away, leaving the oldmerchant-burgess as happy as any poor mortal creature can be when sonear the term of his departure. Such is our way of speaking; and yet weare forced to admit, that at no period of life, however near theultimate, abating the advent of the great illumination which breaks likea new dawn upon the internal sense of a favoured few, can you say thatthe hold of this world upon the spirit is ever renounced. Whether theyoung man was as happy, we may not venture to say; but this we mightsurmise, even at this stage of our story, and in reference to theclassical proverb, that the bastard might be the beautiful Nisa, and thelawful heir the ill-favoured Mopsus. 

These things we may leave to development; and with a caution to thereader not to be over-suspicious, we will follow our Nisa, RachelGrierson, as she proceeds from the house of the merchant-burgess up theHigh Street, at a period of the evening of the same day when the shadowsof the tall lands wrapped the crowds of loiterers and passengers almostin utter darkness; not that she chose this time for any purpose ofsecrecy, --for she had no secret, except that solitary one which everyyoung woman has, and holds, up to the minute of conviction, that she isengaged, after which it becomes a flame blown by her own breath, --butsimply because it suited the routine of her duties. Her night-cloak kepther from the cold, and the panoply of her virtue secured her frominsult; so, threading her way amidst the throng, she arrived at the headof the old winding street called the West Bow, where, at a projection alittle to the north of Major Weir's Entry, she mounted a narrow stair. On arriving at a door on the third landing-place, she tapped gently, andin obedience to a shrill voice, which cried "Come in, " she lifted thelatch, and entered a small room, where, at a bench, sat a very peculiarpersonage. This was no other than the famous Paul Bennett, an artist injewellery, who at that time excelled all his compeers for beauty ofdesign and exquisite refinement of minute elaboration. And this, perhaps, a good judge of mankind might have augured of him; for whilehis body was far below the middle size, his long thin fingers, taperingto a point, seemed to be suitable instruments intended to serve a pairof dark eyes so lustrous and sharp, that nothing within the point of thebeginning of infinitesimals might seem to escape them. Nor was his paleface less suggestive of his peculiar faculties; for it was made up offine delicate features, harmonized into regularity, and so expressive, that it seemed to change with every feeling of the moment, even as theflitting moonbeams play on the face of a statue. In addition to thesepeculiarities, his appearance was rendered the more striking, that, working as he did under a strong reflected light, cast down immediatelybefore his face by a dark shade, the upper part of his person and acircle on the bench were in bright relief, while the other parts of theroom were comparatively dark. 

"Still at work, Paul, " said Rachel, as she entered; "how long do youintend to work to-night?"

"Till the idea becomes dim, and the sense waxes thick, " replied he, ashe turned his eyes upon her. 

"I have something to tell you, " she continued, as she sat down on achair between him and the fire, if that could be called such whichconsisted of some red cinders. 

"Some other wonder, " replied he; "another cropping out of the workingsof fate. "

Words these, as coming from our little artist, which require someexplanation, to the effect that Paul was a philosopher, too, in his ownway. Early misfortunes, which mocked the resolutions of a will neververy strong, had played into a habit of thinking, and brought him to theconviction that every movement or change in the moral world, not lessthan in the physical, is the result of a cause which runs back throughendless generations to the first man, and even beyond him. Paul was, inshort, a fatalist; not of that kind which romance writers feign in orderto make the character work through a gloomy presentiment of his owndestiny, but merely a believer in a universal original decree, theworkings of which we never know until the effects are seen. A fatalistof this kind almost every man is, less or more, in some mood or another;only, to save himself from being a puppet, moved by springs or drawn bystrings, he generally contrives to except his _will_ from the scheme ofthe iron-bound necessity. But Paul would permit of no such exception. The will, with him, was merely the _motive in action_; and as hecompelled you to admit that no thought is, in man's experience, evercalled into being, only developed from prior conditions, and that, evenas to an idea, the doctrine _Nihil nisi ex ovo_ is true, and thereforethat no man can manufacture a motive, so he took a short way with themaintainers of a moral liberty. This doctrine, so gloomy, so grand, yetso terrible, was, to Paul, a conviction, which he almost made practical;nay, he seemed to realize a kind of poetic pleasure from reveries, whichrepresented to him the universe, with the sun and the stars, and allliving creatures--walking, flying, swimming, or crawling--going throughtheir parts in the great melodrama of destiny, no one knowing how, orwhy, or wherefore, yet every human being believing that he is master ofhis actions, at the very moment that he might be conscious that hisbelief is only a part of the great law of necessity. Then it seemed asif this delusion in which men indulge, and are forced to indulge, was anelement of the farce introduced into the play, so as to relieve the mindfrom the heavy burden of contemplating so terrible a theory. 

"Something to tell me, Rachel!" continued he; "and what may that be?"

"My father has told me to-day, " replied she, "that he is to leave me allhis fortune; and however grieved I may be at the thought of losing him, I am glad to think that it may be in my power to be of service to you, Paul, as my only relative on my mother's side. "

"Service, " muttered Paul to himself, while he looked into her face aswistfully as a lover, which indeed he was, though in secret. "And whatis to become of Walter Grierson?" he asked. 

"When he finds that the entire fortune is mine, " replied she, "he willpropose to marry me; and this is what my father wishes to bring about byputting the fortune in my power. "

"So the events crop out from the long chain of causes, " thought Paul;"but who shall tell the final issue? Look here, Rachel, " he continued, as he laid his hand on a golden locket which lay before him in the shapeof a heart, "I have made this to order;" and as he spoke he touched aspring, whereupon a lid opened, and up flew a pair of tiny doves, which, with fluttering wings of gold and azure, immediately saluted each otherwith their long bills, and piped a few notes in imitation of the cushat. The touch of another spring immediately consigned them again to thecavity of the heart, --a conceit altogether of such refined manufactureand ingenuity of design, as to remind us of the saying of Cicero, thatthere is an exquisiteness in art which never can be known till it isseen fresh from the hand of genius. 

"And who ordered that beautiful thing?" inquired Rachel. 

"Walter Grierson, " replied Paul, fixing his eyes upon her sorrowfully, as if he felt oppressed by that gloomy theory of his. 

Nor did he fail to perceive the effect his few words had produced uponthe heart of his cousin, where there was a fluttering very differentfrom that of cooing turtles; for the fate of her happiness seemed to herto be suspended on the answer to a question, and that question she wasafraid to put. 

"Be patient, and learn to hear, " continued the little philosopher. "Ereyet Cheops built the Pyramids, or Joshua commanded the sun to standstill, yea, before the first sensation tingled in the first nerve madeout of the dust, the beginnings were laid of these events of this dayand hour, and, in particular, of that one which may well astonish youand grieve you--viz. , that the locket is intended for and inscribed toAgnes Ainslie. "

"Agnes Ainslie!" repeated Rachel, with parched lips and tremblingvoice, "the daughter of Mr. John Ainslie, my father's agent, to whom Iam even now going, by Mr. Grierson's command, to request him to call tomorrow for the purpose of preparing the settlement!"

"A strange perplexity of events, " said Paul. "But what is this minglingof threads to the great web of the universe, which is eternally beingwoven and unwoven, unaffected by the will of man? And then these smallissues, the loss of a fortune by a man, and that of a lover by a woman, how mighty they are to the individual hearts and affections!"

"Mighty indeed, " sobbed Rachel, who had loved Walter so long, andrejoiced to have it in her power to bestow a fortune upon him, and nowfound all her hopes dissolved into the ashes of grief anddisappointment. "Mighty indeed; and these thoughts of yours are sodreary, how can one believe in them and live!"

"We are compelled to live, " replied he, "even by that same decree whichbinds us to the infinite chain. Were it not so, man would imitate theday-flies, and die at sundown, that he might escape the dark night whichreveals to him the mystery of his being, whereat he trembles and sobs;and all this is also in the decree. "

"But if all these things are so, " said Rachel, "what do you say ofhappiness? Is there no joy in the world? Are not the birds happy, whenin the morning the woods resound with their song, and so, too, everyanimal after its kind? Are not children joyful when the house rings withtheir mirth? and have not men and women their pleasures of a thousandkinds? nay, might not I myself have been one of the happiest of beings, if, with the fortune which is to be left to me, that locket had beenengraved with the name of Rachel Grierson in place of Agnes Ainslie?"

"Yes, " replied he, "happiness is in the decree as well; and, " he addedwith a smile, "it is always cropping out around us, but no one canmanufacture the article. If you wait for it, you may feel it; if you runafter it, you will probably not find it, because it is not ready bythose eternal laws which, at their beginning, involved its coming up ata certain moment of long after-years. Then, at the best, pleasure andpain are mere oscillations; but the first movement is downwards, for wecry when we come into the world; and the last is also downwards, for wegroan when we go out of it. It is the old rhyme--

 'We scream when we're born, We groan when we're dying; And all that's between Is but laughing and crying. '"

A parade of philosophy all this which at another time might have had buta small effect upon a youthful mind, but Rachel was in the meantimeoccupied by looking at the inscription on the fatal toy; and we all knowthat the feeling of the dominant idea of the moment assimilates to itsown hue the light or shade of all other ideas of a cognate kind; andthere is in this process also a selection and rejection whereby allmelancholy ideas cluster in the gloomy atmosphere, if we may so term it, of the prevailing depression, and all joyful ones come together by theattraction of a joyful thought; and so Rachel was impressed by viewswhich, if they had been modified by the comforting doctrines ofChristianity, might have enabled her at once to bear and to hope. Evenwhen Paul had finished, she was still gazing on the locket. A moment ortwo more, and she laid it down with a deep sigh, saying, almostinvoluntarily, "If my name had been there, I would not have repined atthe loss of all my expected fortune. " Then, shaking hands with thispeculiar being, whom she could not but respect for his ingenuity, aswell as for a kindliness and sympathy which lay at the bottom of all hisabstract theories, she left him to his work, at which he would continuetill drowsiness made, as he said, the idea dim and the nerve thick. 

Retracing her steps down the long dark stair, not a very efficientmedium for the removal of impressions so unlike the results of ournatural consciousness, Rachel Grierson found herself again among thebustling crowds of the High Street. Nor could she view these busy peoplein the light by which she saw them before entering the little dark roomof the philosopher. Though she did not know the classical word, shelooked upon them as so many _automata_; and the long chain of causescame into her mind so vividly, that she found herself repeating the verywords of Paul. Then there was the reference to her own individual fate;and was it not through the self-medium she saw all these people in sostrange a light?--with Hope's lamp dashed down at her feet, andextinguished at the very moment when, by the communication of herfather, she thought she had the means of recruiting it with a store ofoil never to be exhausted till possession was accomplished. Still underthese impressions, she came to the door of Mr. Ainslie's house. Therewere sounds of mirth and music coming from within; and so plastic is themind when under a deep and engrossing feeling, that she found nodifficulty in concentrating and modifying these sounds into joyfularticulations from the very mouths of Walter Grierson and Agnes Ainsliethemselves. Such are the moral echoes which respond to, because they areformed by the suspicions of, disappointed love. No longer for the momentwere Paul's thoughts true. These happy beings inside were happy becausethey had the hearts and the wills to enjoy; but she could draw noconclusion that she herself could dispose her mind for the acceptance ofthe world's pleasures also when her gloom should be away among theshadows, and nature's innumerable enjoyments placed within her power. Yet, withal, she could execute her commission, and upon the door beingopened, she could enter in the very face of that mirth of which shefancied herself the victim. 

On being shown into a parlour, she was presently waited upon by Mr. Ainslie, who seemed to her to have come from the scene of enjoyment inthe drawing-room. She could even fancy that he eyed her as in some waystanding in the path of his daughter's expectations through Walter--afancy which of course would gain strength from the somewhat excitedmanner in which he received the words of her commission, to the effectthat he would repair the next forenoon to the house of themerchant-burgess, for the purpose of preparing his last will andtestament. The notary agreed to attend, and thus, still construingappearances according to the assimilating bent of her mind, she departedfor home. After going through the routine of her domestic duties, andcaring for her invalid father, she retired to bed--that place ofso-called rest, where mortals chew the cud of the thoughts of the day orof years. And how unlike the two processes, the physical and themental!--in the one is brought up for a second enjoyment the green grassof nature, still fresh and palatable and nutritious; in the other, theseared leaves of memory, feeding unavailing regrets, and filling themicrocosm with phantoms and dire shapes of evil, the types whereof neverhad an existence in the outer world. Walter Grierson was lost to her forever, and the dire energies of fate, as described by theartist-philosopher, seemed to hang over her, claiming, in harsh tones, her will as a mere instrument in the working out of her own destiny. 

Next day Mr. Ainslie called, and was for a long time closeted with Mr. Grierson; but so careless was she now of the fortune about being left toher, and which she was satisfied would not now be a means of showing heraffection for Walter, that she felt little interest in an affair whichotherwise might have appeared of so much importance to her. Herattention was, notwithstanding, claimed by an incident. After theinterview, the notary visited Walter Grierson in his room, where theyoung man seemed to have been waiting for him. In ordinary circumstancesit might have appeared strange that a man of business, bound to secrecy, would divulge the terms of a will to any one, but far more that heshould take means for apprising a nephew that he was deprived of anyshare of his uncle's means. Nor could she account for this interview onany other supposition than that Mr. Ainslie knew of the intentions ofWalter towards his daughter, and that he took this early opportunity ofintimating that a disinherited young man, of the grade of a merchant'sclerk, would not, as a son-in-law, suit the expectations of an ambitiouswriter. Yet out of this interview there came to, if not drawn by, herfancy a glimmer of hope, inasmuch as, if the young man were rejected bythe notary in consequence of the ban of disinheritance, he would be leftto the attractions of her wealth; but this supposition involved theassumption that her triumph would be over a mind that was mercenary, andnot over a heart predisposed to love; nay, her generosity revolted atthe thought of gratifying her long-concealed passion at the expense ofthe sacrificed love of another. That other, too, had a better right tothe object than she herself, in so far that Agnes Ainslie's love hadbeen returned, while hers had not. But these speculations were to bebrought to the test by words and actions. 

No sooner had Mr. Ainslie left than Rachel was visited in her privateparlour by Walter Grierson himself. He had seldom taken that libertybefore, for her secret passion had been ruled by a stern virtue. Anatural shyness, remote from coyness, demanded the conciliation ofrespect, though ready at a moment to pass into the generosity ofconfidence where she was certain of a return; but his presence beforeher might have been accounted for by his appearance, which was that ofone whose excitement was only attempted to be overborne by an effort--aresult more mechanical than spiritual. His manner, not less than hiscountenance, composed to gravity, was belied by the tremulous light ofhis eye; and as he seized her hand and pressed it fervently, she couldfeel that his trembled more than her own. Her manner was alsoembarrassed, as it well might be, where so many conflicting feelings, some revived from old memories, and some produced by the singular eventsof the day and hour, agitated her frame. 

"I am going to surprise you, cousin, " he said, while he fixed his eyeupon her, as if to watch the effect of his words. 

Rachel forgot for a moment the philosophy of Paul--why should one besurprised when the thing that is to be is a result of a change insomething else as old as Aldebaran, let alone "the sun and the sevenstars?" She was indeed prepared for a surprise. 

"It is just the old story of the heart, " he resumed. "Our intercoursebegan so early, and partook so much of that of mere relations, that Inever could tell when the mere social feeling gave place to anotherwhich I need not mention. You know, Rachel, what I mean. "

She was silent because she was distrustful, yet her heart beat bravelyin spite of her efforts; for was not this man the object of her love, and is not love moved with an eloquence which makes reason ashamed ofher poor figures and modes?

"Yes, " he went on, "I take it for granted that you know I am onlylabouring towards a confession. Yes, dear heart, for years I haveconsidered you as the one sole object in all this world of fair visionsformed to make me happy. You see I cannot get out of the ordinary modeof speech. The lover is fated to adjure, to praise, and to petitionalways in the same set form of words; yet is not the confession enough?"

"So far, " said she; "but I have never seen any evidence of all this;" asif she wanted more in the same strain--sweet to the ear, thoughdistrusted by the reason. 

"No more you have, " he continued, "yet you know that love is oftensuspicious of itself. I have watched with my eye your movements andattitudes when you thought I was not observing you. My ear has followedyour voice through adjoining rooms when you thought I was listening toother sounds. I have admired your words, without venturing the responseof admiration. Often I have wished to fold you in my arms when youdreamt nothing of my inward thoughts. In short, Rachel, I have loved youfor years! Yes, I have enjoyed, or suffered, this gloating, yea, delightful misery of the heart when it feeds upon its own secrettreasures, and trembles at the test which might dissolve the dream. "

"And why this suppression and secrecy, Walter?" she asked. "How couldyou know, " she continued, as she held down her head, "that I would beadverse to your wishes; nay, that I was not even in the same conditionas yourself?"

"Surely you do not mean to say that?" he cried, with something like therapture of one relieved by pleasure from pain. "I am not worthy even ofthe suspicion that you speak according to the bidding of your heart. Have I not watched your looks, and penetrated into your eyes, toascertain whether I might venture to know my fate, and yet never coulddiscover even the symptom of a return; and then was I not under aconviction that your affections were engaged elsewhere?"

"Where?" asked Rachel, with a look of surprise. 

"We are apparently drifting into confessions, " responded he. "I may saythat I never could construe your visits to Paul, the ingenious artist, merely as dictated by admiration of his wonderful genius. "

"You do not know that Paul is the son of my mother's sister, " repliedshe. "Your uncle knows; but there may be reasons why you don't. "

"Then I am relieved, " was the lover's ejaculation, in a tone as if hehad got quit of a great burden. 

"Yes, that is the truth, " continued she; "but I also confess that I havebeen attracted to his small dark workshop by the exquisite curiositiesof art on which he is so often engaged, and which, by occupying so muchof his time, keep him poor. It was only yesterday I saw on his bench alocket which seems to transcend all his prior efforts. "

The young man smiled and nodded. What could he mean? Why was he notdumbfoundered?

"It is in the shape of a heart, " she continued; "and upon touching aspring there fly up two tiny figures, which, with fluttering wings, seemto devour each other with kisses. "

Words which forced themselves out of her in spite of her shyness, butwhich she could not follow up by more than a side-look at her admirer. 

"And upon which, " said he, still smiling, "there is engraven theinscription, 'From Walter Grierson to Agnes Ainslie. '"

"Yes, " sighed Rachel, "the very words. I read them again and again, andcould scarcely believe my eyes. "

"And well you might not, " said he; "but your simple heart has never yetinformed you that love finds out strange inventions. I have been guiltyof a _ruse d'amour_, for which I beg your pardon. Knowing that you werein the habit of visiting Paul's workroom, and seeing all the work of hiscunning fingers, I got him to make the locket out of a piece of gold Igot from my uncle, and the inscription was, "--and here he paused as ifto watch her expression, --"yes, designed, to quicken your affection forme by awakening jealousy. I confess it. Agnes Ainslie was and is nothingto me; and I used her name merely because I thought that you would viewher as a likely rival. "

"Can all this be true?" muttered Rachel to herself, as the wish tobelieve was pursued by the doubt which revolted against a departure fromall natural and rational actions. 

Perhaps she was not versed in the ways of the world; but whether so ornot, the difference in effect would have been small; for what man, beloved by a woman, ever yet pled his cause before his mistress withoutother than a wise man for his client?

"And if it is your wish, my dear Rachel, " he continued, "the inscriptionshall be erased, and replaced by the name of Rachel Grierson. What sayyou?"

His hand was held out for that acceptance which betokened consent. Itwas accepted; yes, and more, His arms were next moment around her waist;the heart of the yielding girl beat rarely, the wistful face was turnedup as even courting his eyes, the kiss was impressed;--why, more, RachelGrierson was surely Walter Grierson's, and he was hers, and surely to befor ever in this world. 

Rachel was now in that state of mind when the pleasantness of acontemplated object excludes any inquiry whether it is true or false, good or evil; and, in spite of Paul's fatalism, she was satisfied thatit was with Walter's own free will that he had done what he had done, and said what he had said. The changed inscription on the locket, andthe delivery of that pledge to her, would complete the vowing of thetroth whereby she was to become his wife. Entirely ignorant of what hadtaken place between the nephew and the uncle, by means of which shemight have been able to analyze his conduct, she had only the closetingof Mr. Ainslie and Walter to suggest to her that the young man's suddendeclaration was the result of his knowledge that she was to be soleheiress. The heart that is under the influence of love, as we havehinted, is too credulous to the tongue of the lover to doubt thesincerity of his professions. So all appeared well. The motives inaction were adequate to the will of the parties who used them; and asshe felt that her love was in the power of herself, so she could notdoubt that Walter's affection was the result of his approval of her goodqualities. Paul was now no longer an oracle. She would be pleased tohave an opportunity of showing him that his genius lay more in hisfingers than in his head. She had now, however, something else to do. She went to her father's room. He was in one of those reveries to which, as we have said, all the thinking of the extremely aged is reduced, whenthe world and its figures of men and women, its strange oscillations andchanges, its passions, pleasures, and pains, seem as made remote by theintervention of a long space--dim, shadowy, and ghost-like. It is one ofthe stages through which the long-living must pass, and, like all theother experiences of life, it is true only to one's self--it cannot becommunicated by words. "Old memories are spectres that do seem to chasethe soul out of the world, "--an old quotation which may be admittedwithout embracing the metaphysical paradox, that "subjective thought isthe poison of life, " or conceding the sharp sneer of the cynic--

 "Know, ye who for your pleasures gape, Man's life at best is but a scrape. "

But the entry of his daughter brought the old man back to the margin ofreal living existences. He held out his hand to her, and smiled in theface that was dear to him, as if for a moment he rejoiced in theexperience of a feeling which connected him with breathing flesh andblood. The object of her visit was soon explained. Whispering in hisear, as if she were afraid of the sound of her own words, she told himthat Walter had promised her a love-token, and that she wished to givehim one in return, for which purpose she desired that she might bepermitted to use one or two old "Spanish ounces" that lay in the oldbureau. 

"Yes, yes, dear child, " said he. "Get a golden heart made of them. Itwill be an emblem of the true heart you have to give him, and a pledgeto boot. " Then, falling into one of his reveries, in which his mindseemed occupied by some strong feeling--"I am thus reminded, " hecontinued, "of the old song you used to sing. There is a verse which Ihope will never be applicable to you as it was to me. I wish to hear itfor the last time, " he added, with a languid smile, "in consideration ofthe ounces. "

Rachel knew the verse, because she had formerly noticed that it movedsome chord in his memory connected with an old love affair in which hisheart had been scathed; but she hesitated, for the meaning it conveyedwas dowie and ominous. 

"Come, come, " said he, "the fate will never be yours. "

She complied, yet it was with a trembling voice. The tune is at best buta sweet wail, and there was a misgiving of the heart which imparted thethrilling effect of a gipsy's farewell--

 "If I had wist ere I had kisst, That true love was so ill to win, I'd have lock'd my heart in some secret part, And bound it with a silver pin. "

"Now you may take the ounces, " said he with a sigh. "The verse has moremeaning to me than you wot off, and surely, I hope, less to you. "

And having thus gratified his whim--if that could be called a whim whichwas a desire to have repeated to him a sentiment once to him, as hehinted, a reality connected with the young heart when it was lusty, andhis pulse strong and thick with the blood of young life--- she went tothe bureau, and, taking three of the ounces, she left the room. In thegloaming, she was again on her way to Paul's workshop, where she foundthe artist, as usual, with his head bent over the bright desk on thebench, engaged in some of his fanciful creations. Having seated herselfin the chair where she had so often sat, she commenced her story of thecircumstances of the day, --how Walter Grierson had acted and spoken toher; how he had accounted for the locket and inscription; how heintended to change the latter, and substitute her name for that of AgnesAinslie; how he had sought her love, and succeeded in his seeking; howshe was satisfied that he was sincere in his professions; and how shehad got the ounces from her father to make a love-token, to give inexchange for Walter's. All which Paul listened to with deep attention, now and then a faint smile passing over his delicate face, and followedby the old pensive expression which was peculiar to one so deeply imbuedwith the conviction that he was an organism in nature's plan, acted uponto fulfil a fate of which he could know nothing. 

"And so the powers work, " said he, as he looked in the hopeful face ofhis friend. "You are now happy, Rachel, because you believe what Walterhas said to you, and you have no power over your belief. But, " hecontinued, after a moment or two's silence, "I _may_ have power overyou, but not over myself. Walter Grierson has told you a falsehood, andhis motive for it is adequate to his nature. Since he gave me the orderfor the locket, he has learnt that you are to inherit the whole fortuneof your father, on the condition that you are to marry him; and his lovefor Agnes has been overborne by another feeling--the desire to possessyour wealth. Neither the one nor the other of these feelings could hemanufacture, or even modify, any more than he could charm the winds intosilence, or send Jove's bolt back to its thunder-cloud; and now, lookyou, his game is this: if you succeed to the money, he will marrywithout loving you; if not, he will marry the woman he loves--AgnesAinslie. "

"You alarm me, Paul, " said she, involuntarily holding forth her arms, asif she would have stopped his speech. 

"And you cannot help your alarm, " said he calmly; "neither can I help_not_ being alarmed by your alarm. "

"Oh, you trifle with my feelings, " she cried, with a kind of wail. "What have all these strange thoughts to do with this situation in whichI am placed? Even though all things are pre-ordained, neither of us canbe absolved from doing our duty to God and ourselves. "

"Absolved!" echoed Paul. "Why, Rachel, look you, we are forced to do it, or not to do it, precisely as the motive culminates into action, but weare not sensible of the compulsion; and so am I under the necessity totell you that Walter Grierson is playing false with you, according tothe inexorable law of his nature. It is not an hour yet since AgnesAinslie called here with some old trinkets, and requested me to make aring out of them; nor was I left without the means of understanding thatit was to be given in exchange for the locket. "

"Is it possible?" cried she. "And can it be that I am deceived, and thatsecret powers are working my ruin?"

"Not necessarily your ruin, " said he; "no mortal knows the birth of thenext moment. The womb of fate is never empty; but no man shall dare tosay what is in it till the issue of every moment proves itself. Nor doesall this take away hope, for hope is in the ancient decree, like all theother evolutions of time, including that hope's being deferred till theheart grows sick; and, " he added, as he looked sorrowfully into herface, "that is the fate of mine, for, know you, Rachel Grierson, I havelong loved you, and have now seen that the riches you are to inherit putyou beyond the sphere of my ambition. I have often wished--pardon meRachel--yes, I have often wished you might be left a beggar, that Imight have the privilege of using the invention with which I am giftedto astonish the world by my handiwork, and bring wealth to her I loved. "

"I am surrounded on all sides by difficulties, " sighed the young woman, as she seemed to find herself in the mazes of an unseen destiny. As shelooked at her cousin, she thought that one of her evils was that thecapture of her affections so early by Walter had prevented her fromviewing Paul in any other light than that of an ingenious artist, and aman of kindly sympathies, however much he was separated from mankind bya theory of the world too esoteric for ordinary thought, and which yet, at some time of man's life, forces its way amidst palpitations of fearto every heart. 

On reaching home she met there the notary, Mr. Ainslie, who informedher, probably at the request of her father (for information of that kindis seldom given gratuitously), that the will had been signed, and leftin the possession of the old man. Even this communication, so calculatedto shake from the heart so many of the sorrows of life, had no greatereffect upon her generous nature than to increase the responsibility offulfilling the condition upon which the inheritance was to be receivedand held. If she had not been under the effect of an early prepossessionin favour of Walter, she might have doubted the sincerity of hisstatement, as it came from his own mouth. Suspicion attached to everyword of it; but after the communication made by Paul, it was scarcelypossible for her to resist the conclusion that he had told her afalsehood, and that he was aiming at the fortune, without the power orthe inclination to give her in return his love; nay, that he washeartlessly sacrificing to his passion for gold two parties--the objectof his real love, and that of his feigned. Yet she did not resist thatconclusion; and so good an analyst was she of her own mind, that evenwhen in the very act of throwing away these suspicions of his honesty, she knew in her soul that her love was in successful conflict with anarray of evidence establishing the fact which she disregarded. Then theconsciousness of this inability to cease loving the man whom she couldhardly doubt to be a liar, as well as heartless and mercenary, broughtup to her the strange theory of Paul. The motive which no man or womancould make or even modify, was the prime spring as well as ruler of thewill, cropping out, to use his own words, from moral, if not alsophysical causes, laid when God said, "Let there be light, and there waslight. " A deeper thinker than most of her sex, she felt "the sublimityin terror" of this view of God's ways with man. If she could not resistthe resolution to love Walter, how could he resist the love he bore toanother? The thought shook her to the heart; nor was she less painedwhen she reflected on the hapless Paul, with his long-concealedaffection, so pure from the sordidness of a desire for money, that hewould have toiled for her under the flame of the midnight lamp, continued into the light of the rising sun. 

During the night the persistency of her resolution to remain by her pastaffection was maintained; yet as it was still merely a persistencyimplying the continuance of a foe ready to assert the old rights, shewas so far unhappy that she wanted that composure of mind which consistsin the absence of conflict among one's own thoughts. 

In the morning she found the locket lying on her parlour table, with theinscription changed from Agnes Ainslie to Rachel Grierson. She took itup and fixed her eyes upon it. At one time she would have given theworld for it; now it attracted her and repelled her. It came from theonly man she loved; but another name had been on it, which ought, foraught she could be sure of, to have been on it still. It might be thepledge of affection, but it might also be the evidence of falsehood toher and unfaithfulness to another. And then, as she traced the lines ofher name, she thought she could discover the signs of a tremulousness inthe hand that traced them. Amidst all these thoughts and conflictingfeelings, she could not help recurring to the circumstance that he hadnot presented the locket with his own hands. She was unwilling toindulge in an unfavourable construction; and perhaps the more so that itso far pleased her as relieving her from the dilemma of accepting itwith more coldness than her love warranted, or more warmth than herreason allowed. Nay, though she gloated over his image when she wasalone, she felt an undefined fear of meeting him. Might he not beprecipitated into some further defence or confession, which mightfortify suspicions still battling against her prepossessions, anddiminish her love? Nor was this disinclination towards personalinterviews confined to this day--it continued; and it seemed as if healso wished his connection with her to stand in the meantime upon thepledges and confessions already made. This she could also notice; but asfor rendering a true reason for it, she couldn't, even with the greatability she possessed in construing conduct and character. 

But meanwhile time was accumulating antagonistic forces which wouldexplode in a consummation. Her thoughts were to be occupied by another, who claimed her affections and care by an appeal as powerful as it waswithout guile. Her father was seized with paralysis. He was laidspeechless on the bed where she sat, a watchful and affectionate nurse, ready to sacrifice sleep and peace and rest to the wants of him who, allthrough her life, had been her friend and benefactor, and who hadprovided for her future days at the expense of hopes entertained by hislegitimate heirs. For three days he had lain without speaking a word, and Rachel could only guess his wants by mute signs. During all thistime her thoughts had scarcely glanced at Walter. He seemed anxiousabout the condition of his uncle, calling repeatedly at the bedroomdoor, and going away without entering. But his manner indicated noaffection, if it did not rather seem that he considered the old man haddone his worst against him, and that sorrow was not due from one he haddisinherited. Her affections were too much engrossed by her patient topermit her thinking of what was being transacted in the outside world. Yet, when she looked upon the face of the invalid, so pale andmotionless, where so long the shades of grief and the lights of joy hadchased each other, by the old decree of human destiny, the words of Paulwould occur to her. Was the death that was there impending the result ofa more necessary law than that which had ruled every other condition ofbody or mind which had ever been experienced by the patient sufferer?Then there came the question, Could Walter Grierson so regulate hisheart as to force it to love her in preference to Agnes Ainslie? Couldshe, Rachel herself, so rule her feelings as to cease loving the man shestill suspected of falsehood and treachery? It was even while she wasthus ruminating over thoughts that made her tremble, that she observed, on the third night, a change in her patient. He seemed to start by theadvent of some recollection. His body became restless, and he waved hishand wildly, as if he wanted her to bend over him, to hear what he mightstruggle to say. She immediately obeyed the sign. He fixed his eyes uponher, made efforts to articulate, which resulted only in a thick, brokengibberish. She could only catch one or two indistinct words, from whichit seemed that he wished to tell her _where she would find the will_;but the precise phrase whereby he wished to indicate the deposit waspronounced in such an imperfect manner that she could not make it out. Strangely enough, yet still consistently with the generosity of hercharacter, she did not like to pain him by indicating that she did notunderstand him. Nay, she nodded pleasantly, as if she wanted him to beeasy, under the satisfaction that he had succeeded in his efforts toarticulate. Yet so far was she from thinking of the importance of thecommunication to herself, that she flattered him into the belief that, as he could now speak so as to be understood, he was in the way ofimproving. Alas for the goodness which is evil to the heart thatproduces it!

 "There are of plants That die of too much generosity-- Exhaling their sweet life in essences. "

Paul would have said that this too was a cropping out of the old causalstrata. In two hours more, David Grierson was dead, and Rachel was leftto mourn for her parent and benefactor. 

Now the issues were accumulating. A very short time only was allowed toelapse before Mr. Ainslie, accompanied by Walter, came to seal up therepositories; an operation which was gone through in a manner whichindicated that both of them thought they were locking up and makingsecure that which would destroy their hopes. They seemed under theconviction that the will was in the bureau; and if they had been menotherwise than merely what, as the world goes, are called honest, theymight have abstracted the document; for the generous Rachel never evenlooked at their proceedings, grieved as she was at the death of herfather. They were, at least, above that. 

In a few days David Grierson was consigned to the earth, and, after thefuneral, Mr. Ainslie, accompanied by Walter, again attended to open therepositories and read the testament. Rachel agreed to be present. Whenthe seals were removed, she was asked by the notary if she knew wherethe document was deposited. She now felt the consequence of the easymanner in which she had let slip the opportunity so dearly offered byher father, of knowing the _locale_ of a writ in all respects soimportant; for it cannot be doubted that, if she had persevered, shemight have succeeded in drawing out of him the word, articulated so asthat she might have comprehended it. She accordingly, yet without anyanticipation of danger, answered in the negative, whereupon the notaryand nephew, who seemed to be on the most friendly terms, set about asearch. Rachel remained. A whole hour was passed in the search; the willwas not yet found. Every drawer of the bureau was examined, --thepresses, the cabinets, the table-drawers, the trunks. And so anotherhour passed--no will. Rachel began to get alarmed, and perhaps the morethat she saw upon the faces of the searchers an expression which shecould not comprehend. Their spirits seemed to have become elated as hersbecame depressed; yet why should that have been, if Walter Grierson wasto be "true to his troth?"

"We need search no more, " said Mr. Ainslie. "The will is not in thehouse. I should say it is not in existence, and that Mr. Grierson, having changed his mind, had destroyed it. "

"Not so, " replied Rachel, "for a few minutes before his death he triedto tell me where it was, but the name of the place died away upon histongue, and I could not catch it. "

"Neither can we catch the deed, " said Walter, with a laugh which had aspice of irony in it. 

And so the search was given up. The two searchers left the house, apparently in close conversation. Rachel sought her room and threwherself on a sofa, oppressed by doubts and fears which she could notvery well explain. The manner of Walter appeared to her not to be thatof one who was pledged to marry her. Her mind ran rapidly back overdoubtful reminiscences which yielded no comfort to the heart; nay, shefelt that he had never been as a lover to her; and far less that daywhen, as it appeared, he was to be master of his uncle's wealth. Yetagain comes the thought, Was he pledged to her? Ay, that was certainenough; and then she was so little versed in the subtle ways of theworld, that she could not doubt of his being "true to his troth. "

As soon as she recovered from her meditation, she sought again theworkroom of the artist, to whom she told the issue of the search for thewill. Paul looked at first greatly struck, but under his strangephilosophy he recovered that calmness which belongs to those of his wayof thinking. 

"Have I not often preached to you, Rachel, " said he, as he lay back onhis chair, "that all these things were fixed ere Sirius was born? Yea, "he added, as a smile played amid the seriousness of his face, "ere yetthere was a space for the dog-star to wag his tail. The croppings outwill now come thick, and you will know whether you are to be a lady or abeggar. "

Rachel might have known that the consolation offered by fatalists isonly the recommendation of a resignation which, as fated itself, isgloomy, if not awful, for it amounts to an annihilation of self, withall hopes, energies, and resolutions. She heard his words, and forgavehim, if she did not believe him; for she knew that he was true in hisfriendship, and benevolent in his feelings--parts these, too, as hewould have said, of the decree. She left him in a condition of sadnessfor which she could not yet account, and the hues of her mind seemed tobe projected on all objects around her. She retired to rest; but shecould not banish from her mind that the realities of her conditionrequired to be read by the blue light of Paul's philosophy. It was farin the morning before she fell asleep; and when nine came she feltunrested. The servant came in to her and told her the hour. Thebreakfast was ready; but Walter, who had not returned on the priornight, was not as usual waiting for her. The announcement was ominouslyin harmony with the thoughts she had tried to banish. She scarcelytouched the breakfast, and the day passed in expectation of Walter. Night came, but it did not bring him. The next day passed in the sameway. People called to condole without knowing how much she stood in needof condolence; but still no Walter came to redeem the pledge of hislove. Yet still she hoped; nor till an entire month had gone over herhead did she renounce her confidence that he would be "true to histroth. "

At the end of this period Paul advised her to take counsel. He told herthat the law had remedies for losses of deeds; and she accordinglyconsulted a legal gentleman of the name of Cleghorn. The result was notfavourable. It appeared that Mr. Ainslie denied that there was any copyor scroll of the will, through the means of which it might have been"set up, " by what is called a proving of the tenor. There was no hopehere, and by-and-by she saw advertised in the _Caledonian Mercury_ thatthe furniture of the house was to be sold within a week. She was thereon mere tolerance; and now she had got a clear intimation to flit. Asfor money or effects, she had none, except her wardrobe, for she neverthought of providing for an exigency which she was satisfied never wouldoccur. Again she applied to Paul, who, with her consent, went and tookfor her a solitary room in the close we have already mentioned. It washer intention to acquire a livelihood by means of her needle, at thattime almost the only resource for genteel poverty. Some articles offurniture were got, principally by Paul; and there, two days before thesale, she took up her residence. Nor did the kindness of Paul stop here. He attended the sale, and, considerately judging that some articlesbelonging to her father would be acceptable to her, he purchased, for asmall sum, the old bureau of which we have already spoken. The articlewas removed to Rachel's room. 

For a period of fifteen years did Rachel Grierson live in that roomplying her needle to obtain for her a subsistence. Her story, which cameto be known, procured her plenty of work; and the ten fingers, whichwere sufficiently employed, sufficed for the wants of thestomach, --small these wants, probably, in her who had heard of themarriage of Walter with Agnes Ainslie; yea, she who could bear to hearthat intelligence might claim a right to be a pupil of Paul's school ofphilosophy. Paul she indeed loved as a friend, but she never could bringherself to the resolution of marrying the little artist. There was atrain of evils: the "croppings out" of her fate, as Paul called it, werethick enough and to spare; for she fell into bad health, which was theprecursor of a fit of palsy, depriving her for ever of the power ofworking for herself. Then it was that Paul's affection was shown moreclearly than ever. Day by day he brought her all the food she required;but at length he himself was taken ill, and his absence was fatal. Prideprevented her from making her necessity known to the neighbours, withwhom she had but little intercourse. We have told how she was founddead; and when we say that Paul recovered to be present at her funeral, we have only one fact more to state. It is this: Paul took the oldbureau home to his own little room, to keep as a memorial of the onlywoman he ever loved. One day, when repairing the internal drawers, hefound in a hollow perpendicular slip, which looked like a broad beading, a document which was thus entitled on the back:

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT

BY

DAVID GRIERSON, IN FAVOUR OF

RACHEL GRIERSON, 1776

LADY RAE. 

During the time that Oliver Cromwell was in Edinburgh, a lady called oneday at his lodgings and solicited an interview. She was closely wrappedup in a large and loose mantle, and deeply veiled. The former, however, did not conceal a shape of singular elegance, nor mar the light andgraceful carriage of the wearer. Both were exceedingly striking; and ifthe veil performed its duty more effectually than the mantle, bycompletely hiding the countenance of the future Protector's fairvisitor, it was only to incite the imagination to invest thatcountenance with the utmost beauty of which the "human face divine" issusceptible. Nor would such creation of the fancy have surpassed thetruth, for the veiled one was indeed "fair to look upon. "

On its being announced to Cromwell that a lady desired an interview withhim, he, in some surprise, demanded who and what she was. The servantcould not tell. She had declined to give her name, or to say what wasthe purpose of her visit. 

The Protector thought for a moment, and as he did so, kept gazing, witha look of abstraction, in the face of his valet. At length--

"Admit her, Porson, admit her, " he said. "The Lord sends his ownmessengers in his own way; and if we deny them, He will deny us. "

Porson, who was one of Cromwell's most pious soldiers--for he served inthe double capacity of warrior and valet--stroked his sleek hair downover his solemn brow, and uttered a sonorous "amen" to the unconnectedand unintelligible observation of his master, who, it is well known, dealt much in this extraordinary sort of jargon. 

Having uttered his lugubrious amen, Porson withdrew, and in a fewminutes returned, conducting the lady, of whom we have spoken, into thepresence of Cromwell. 

On entering the apartment, the former threw aside her veil, anddiscovered a countenance of such cunning charms as moved the futureProtector to throw into his manner an air of unwonted gallantry. 

At the lady's first entrance he was busy writing, and had merely throwndown his pen when she appeared, without intending to carry his courtesyany further; but he had no sooner caught a sight of the fair face of hisvisitor, than, excited by an involuntary impulse, he rose from his chairand advanced towards her, smiling and bowing most graciously; thelatter, however, being by no means remarkable either for its ease or itselegance. 

"Pray, madam, " now said Cromwell, still looking the agreeable--so far ashis saturnine features would admit of such expression--"to what happycircumstance am I indebted for the honour of this visit?"

"The circumstance, sir, that brings me here is by no means a happy one, "replied the lady, in tones that thrilled even the iron nerves of OliverCromwell. "I am Lady Rae, General; the wife of John Lord Rae, at presenta prisoner in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh for his adherence to the causeof the late king. "

"Ah, my Lady Rae, I am sorry for you--sorry for you indeed; butdoubtless you have found consolation in the same source whence yourafflictions have sprung. Truly may I reckon--indeed may I, doubtless--that the Lord, who has seen fit to chastise you, has alsocomforted you under this dispensation. "

"None, Sir General, who seek the aid of the Almighty in a true spiritever seek that aid in vain, " replied Lady Rae; "and I have been aseeker, and have found; nor have I, I trust, been wanting on thisoccasion in a due submission to his will. "

"Truly, I hope not; indeed do I, " replied Cromwell. "Then, what would yewith me, fair lady? What would ye with one so feeble and humble as I am, who am but as a tool, a mean instrument in the hand of the artificer?"And the speaker assumed a look of the deepest humility. 

"I dare not utter it! I dare not utter it, General!" exclaimed Lady Rae, now giving way, for the first time, to that emotion which was agitatingher whole frame, although she had hitherto endeavoured, and notunsuccessfully, to conceal it. "I dare not utter it, " she said, "lest itshould bring death to my hopes; yet came I hither for no other purpose. "

"Speak, lady, speak, " said Cromwell. "What would'st thou with me?"

Lady Kae flung herself on her knees, and exclaimed, with upraisedcountenance and streaming eyes--

"Save my husband, General! Restore him to liberty and to me; and thus, on my knees, shall I daily offer up prayers to heaven for thy safety andprosperity. Oh refuse me not!--refuse me not, General, as thou thyselfhopest for mercy from thy God in the hour of retribution!" And shewildly grasped the knees of the republican commander. 

Without saying a word, Cromwell gently disengaged himself from the fairsuppliant, and, turning his back upon her, stalked to the further end ofthe apartment, seemingly much agitated. 

On gaining the extremity of the room, Cromwell stood for two or threeminutes, still keeping his back to Lady Rae, with arms folded, anddrooping his head, as if musing deeply. At the expiry of this period, hesuddenly turned round, and advancing towards his fair visitor with quickand hurried step, said--

"My Lady Rae, may the Lord direct me in this matter and in all others. Ihave been communing with myself anent your petition; truly have I, butsee not that I can serve thee; I cannot indeed. If we would all walk inthe straight path, we had need to walk warily; for in this matter Icannot help thee, seeing my Lord Rae is a State prisoner, and I have nopower over him; none, truly, none whatever. The law is strong, and maynot be trifled with. But I will consider, fair lady, indeed will I; Iwill seek direction and counsel in the matter from on high. I will do sothis night; I will have this night to think of the matter, and thou wiltcall upon me at this hour to-morrow, and I will then see if the Lordwill vouchsafe me any light as to how I may assist thee and thy poorhusband; for on thy account I would do so if I could. "

Confused, and all but wholly unintelligible, as was this address ofCromwell's, Lady Rae perceived that it contained a gleam of comfort, that a ray of hope-inspiring light, however feeble, played through itsobscurity; and, satisfied with this, she urged her suit no further, but, with a thankful acceptance of the Parliamentary general's invitation toher to wait upon him on the following day, she withdrew. 

On Lady Rae issuing from Cromwell's lodgings, she stood in the street, gazing around her for an instant, as if looking for some one whom shehad expected to find waiting her, but who was not at the moment insight. This was the case; but it was only for a moment that she was sodetained. She had glanced but two or three times around her, when shewas joined by a personage of very striking appearance. This was a hugeHighlander, considerably above six feet in stature, proportionably stoutand well made, and apparently of enormous strength. He was dressed inthe full costume of his country, and armed to the teeth. By his sidedepended a tremendous claymore; in his belt were stuck a dagger and abrace of pistols; and on his shoulder rested that formidable weaponcalled a Lochaber axe. 

The countenance of this tremendous personage was in keeping with hisother charms: it was manly, and decidedly handsome, but withal wasmarked with an expression of fierceness that was appalling to look upon;and was thus calculated, when associated with his gigantic figure, toinspire at once admiration and fear. 

As this formidable personage approached Lady Rae, he touched his bonnetwith an air of the most profound respect, and assumed a look andattitude of devoted attention to her commands. 

"I have seen him, John, " said Lady Rae, addressing her Goliath of anattendant, who was neither more nor less than a retainer of Lord Rae's, but one who stood high in the estimation of both the former and thelatter for his fidelity, and, fierce as he looked, for the gentleness ofhis nature. John M'Kay--for such was his name--was, in short, anespecial favourite of both Lord and Lady Rae, and was admitted to adegree of confidence and familiarity that elevated him much above hisreal condition. They were proud, too, of his superb figure, anddelighted to exhibit him in the full dress of his country, as a specimenof the men which it produced. "I have seen him, John, " said Lady Rae, whose protector and attendant John always was when she went forth onoccasions of business of importance like the present. 

"And what he'll say, my letty?" inquired John in a low and gentle tone, and stopping to catch Lady Rae's communication. 

"Not much that is quite satisfactory, John. He speaks in a strangestyle, but I think there is ground of hope. He did not altogether refusethe prayer of my petition, but bade me call upon him again to-morrow. "

John looked grave, but made no reply. His lady walked on, and hefollowed at a respectful distance. 

The former now directed her steps to a locality in the city with whichshe was but too familiar, and which she had had occasion of late but toooften to frequent. This was the Tolbooth--the place of her husband'sconfinement. 

On reaching the outer entrance to the jail, the low half-door, thicklystudded with huge-headed nails, by which it was temporarily securedduring the day, was immediately thrown open for her admission by theturnkey--a little crusty-looking personage in a fur cap--who had beenleaning over it, listlessly looking around him, on her ladyship'sapproach. As the latter entered the prison door, the former stood to oneside, doffed his little fur cap, and respectfully wished her ladyship agood morning. 

"How are you to-day, James?" said Lady Rae in kindly tones; "and how ismy lord?"

"Quite well, my lady, quite well, " replied the little turnkey, extremelyproud, seemingly, of the condescension of her ladyship. The latterpassed on, and commenced threading her way through the tortuous butwell-known passages which led to her husband's prison-room. John M'Kayfollowed his mistress into the jail, previously leaving his arms at thedoor--a condition to which he had always to submit before gainingadmission. Having denuded himself of his weapons, John also passed on, but not before he had shaken his fist ominously in the face of thelittle jailer. This was John's constant practice every time he enteredthe prison; and, simple as the act was, it had a good deal of meaning. It meant, in the first place, that John associated the misfortune of hismaster's confinement with the little turnkey's employment; that heconsidered him as aiding and abetting in the same. It further meant, that if it were not for one thing more than another, or, as John himselfwould have expressed it, "for todder things more nor ones, " he wouldhave brought his Lochaber axe and the turnkey's head into more intimatecontact. 

In the meantime, Lady Rae having ascended several flights of dark andnarrow stairs, and traversed several passages of a similar description, had arrived at a particular door, on either side of which stood agrenadier, with shouldered musket and bayonet fixed. They were theguards placed upon her husband, who occupied the apartment which theysentinelled. 

The soldiers, who had orders to admit her ladyship and attendant to theprisoner at any time between the hours of nine in the morning and sevenat night, offered no hindrance to her approaching the door and rappingfor admittance. This she now did; and the "Who's there?" of the captivewas replied to in a powerfully Celtic accent by John M'Kay, with--"MyLetty Rae, my lort. " The door instantly flew open, and its inmate cameforth, with a smiling and delighted countenance, to receive hisbeautiful and faithful wife. 

In the meantime, John M'Kay took his station on the outside of thedoor--a more friendly guard over the inmates of the apartment to whichit conducted than those who stood on either side of him. Here the samefeeling which had dictated John's significant hint to the turnkey below, suggested his general bearing and particular manner to the two soldiersnow beside him. 

Maintaining a profound and contemptuous silence, he strutted up and downthe passage--without going, however, more than two or three yards eitherway--in front of the door of his lordship's apartment, keeping his hugeform proudly erect, as he thus paced the short walk to which he hadlimited himself, and casting, every now and then, a look of fiercedefiance on the appalled soldiers, who looked with fear and dread on thechafed lion with whom they found themselves thus unpleasantly caged, andwho seemed every moment as if he would spring upon and tear them topieces; and, in truth, little provocation would it have taken to havebrought John M'Kay's huge fists into play about their heads. There canbe no doubt that there was nothing at that moment which would have givenJohn more satisfaction than their affording him an excuse for attackingthem. This, however, the soldiers carefully avoided; and, not contentwith refraining from giving the slightest offence, either in word, look, or deed, endeavoured to conciliate John by an attempt to lead him intofriendly conversation. But the attempt was in vain. Their advances wereall repelled, either with silent contempt or with a gruff uncourteousresponse. A specimen of the conversation which did take place betweenM'Kay and the guards may be given:--

"Delightful day, friend!" said one of the soldiers. 

"S'pose it is!" replied John sternly, and continuing his walk. 

A pause. 

"Anything new in the town to-day?" at length said the other soldier. 

"S'pose something new every tay!" replied John gruffly. 

"Ay, ay, I dare say; but have _you_ anything new to tell us?"

"Maype I have, " said John, with a grim smile. 

"What is it?"

"Tat I'll knock your tam thick head against tat wall if you'll pe botterme wi' any more o' your tam nonsense. Tat's news for you!" and John gaveone of those peculiar Celtic grunts which no combination of letters canexpress. "And you, you scarecrow-looking rascal, " he continued, addressing the other sentinel, "if you'll spoke anoder word, I'll crammy sporran doon your dam troat. "

Having delivered himself of these friendly addresses, John resumed hismarch, with additional pride of step and bearing. In a minute after, hewas summoned into Lord Rae's apartment, where he remained until Lady Raeleft the prison, which she did in a short time afterwards. 

It was with a beating heart and anxious mind that Lady Rae wended herway, on the following day--attended, as usual, by her giganticserving-man--to the lodgings of Oliver Cromwell. On reaching the house, M'Kay took his station, as on a former occasion, on the outside, whileher ladyship advanced towards the door, within which she speedilydisappeared, her admittance having been more prompt on the present visitthan the former. 

In an instant after, Lady Rae was again in the presence of OliverCromwell. As on the former occasion, he was employed in writing when sheentered, and as on that occasion, so also he threw down his pen, androse to receive her. 

"Anent this matter of yours, my lady, " began Cromwell abruptly, andwithout any previous salutation, although he looked all civility andkindness, "I really hardly know what to say; truly do I not; but theLord directs all, and He will guide us in this thing also. "

"I trust so!" interrupted Lady Rae, meekly. 

"Yes, " resumed the future Protector of England; "for we are but weakcreatures, short-sighted and erring. But indeed, as I told you before, my lady, your husband is a State prisoner; truly is he, and thereforemay I not interfere with him. I cannot; I have not the power. Yet wouldI serve thee if I could; truly would I with great pleasure. But these, you see, are strange times, in which all men must walk warily; for weare beset with enemies, with traitors--deceivers on all sides, men whofear not the Lord. Yet, for this matter of yours, my Lady Rae, I willtell you: I cannot take your husband from prison; it would be unseemlyin the sight of all God-fearing men; but truly, if you could in any waysmanage to get his lordship once without the prison walls, I would takeupon me to prevent his being further troubled. He should have aprotection under my hand; truly he should, although it might bring me tosome odium with my friends. But he should have it, nevertheless, out ofmy respect for you, my lady. Now go, go, my lady; I may say no more onthe subject. Go, try and fall on some means of getting thy husbandwithout the walls of his prison; this done, come instantly to me, andthou shalt have a protection for him under my hand; indeed thou shalt. "

To Lady Rae, this proposal was a grievous disappointment. It containedan arrangement which she had never contemplated, and which seemed asimpracticable as it was strange; yet she saw it was all she had toexpect, and that whatever might be the result, she must be content withthe extent of interference on her husband's behalf, which was includedin the singular measures suggested by Cromwell. 

Impressed with this conviction, Lady Rae thanked him for his kindness, said she would endeavour to get her husband without the prison gates bysome means or other, and would then again wait upon him for theprotection he was so generous as to offer. 

"Do so, my lady, do so, " said Cromwell, escorting her ladyship to thedoor with an air of great gallantry; "and may the Lord have thee in hisholy keeping. "

Lady Rae turned round, again thanked the general, curtseyed, andwithdrew. 

On reaching the street, her ladyship was instantly joined by herfaithful attendant M'Kay, who had been waiting with the greatest anxietyand impatience for her return; for to him his master's life and libertywere dearer far than his own, and he well knew that both were much inthe power of the extraordinary man on whom his lady was now waiting. 

On the first glance which he obtained of his mistress's countenance, John saw, with a feeling of disappointment that lengthened his ownseveral inches, that the interview had not been a satisfactory one. Hisnative sense of politeness, however, and of the deference due to hismistress, prevented him making any inquiries as to what had passed untilshe should herself choose to communicate with him on the subject. Forsuch communication, however, he had longer to wait than usual; for, lostin thought and depressed with disappointment, Lady Rae walked on a goodway without taking any notice whatever of her attendant, who wasfollowing at a distance of several yards. At length she suddenlystopped, but without turning round. This John knew to be the signal forhim to advance. He accordingly did so, and, touching his bonnet, waitedfor the communication which it promised. 

"I am afraid, John, " now said Lady Rae--"I am afraid we shall bedisappointed, after all. The general has made the strangest proposal youever heard. He says that he cannot, without compromising himself, or tothat effect, liberate his lordship from jail; but that if he were onceout--that is, if he could be got out by any means--he would save himfrom being further troubled, and would grant him a protection under hisown hand. But how on earth are we to get him out? It is impossible. These two guards at the door, besides other difficulties, render italtogether impracticable. I know not what is to be done. "

It was some seconds before M'Kay made any reply. At length--

"I'll no think ta difficulty fery crate, after all, my letty, " repliedJohn. "There's shust ta bodachan at ta dore, I could put in my sporran, and ta twa soger. "

"Yes, John; the first you might perhaps manage, " said Lady Rae, smiling, and glancing unconsciously at the huge figure of her attendant, whichpresented so striking a contrast to that of the little, slim, crustyturnkey; "but the two soldiers--"

"Whoich, " exclaimed John contemptuously; "if's no far prettier men thanwas there yesterday, it'll no trouble me much to manage them too, myletty. A wee bit clamsheuchar wi' my Lochaper axe, or a brog wi' myskean-dhu, will make them quate aneuch, my letty. Tat's but a smallshob. "

"John, John, no violence, no violence!" exclaimed Lady Rae, in greatalarm at the sanguinary view of the process for her husband's liberationwhich John had taken. "No violence. If his lordship's liberation beattempted at all, there must be no violence; at least none to theshedding of blood, or to the inflicting the smallest injury on any one. The idea is horrible; and, if acted on, would only make matters worse. Your own life, John, would be the forfeit of such an atrociousproceeding. "

"Foich, a figs for tat, my letty, beggin' your lettyship's pardon, "replied John, a good deal disappointed at the peaceful tone of hismistress, and at the loss of an opportunity, such as he had longdesired, of taking vengeance on his master's guards and jailers. "Foich, a figs for tat, my letty, beggin' your lettyship's pardon, " he said. "Icould teuk to the hills in a moment's notice, and see who'll catch JohnM'Kay then. "

"Well, well, perhaps, John, you might, but you must speak no more ofviolence; I charge you, speak no more of it. We will, in the meantime, go to his lordship and submit the matter to him, and be guidedthereafter by his advice. "

Having said this, Lady Rae directed her steps to the jail, and, closelyfollowed by M'Kay, was soon after in the apartment of the prisoner. 

Lord Rae having been apprised by his lady of the result of her interviewwith Cromwell, a secret consultation between the two, which lastednearly an hour, ensued. 

During this consultation, many different plans for effecting theliberation of the prisoner were suggested, and, after being dulyweighed, abandoned as impracticable. One at length, however, wasadopted, and this one was proposed by M'Kay; it was characteristic ofthe man, and came as close in its nature to his original one as hedurst presume upon. 

This plan, which was a simple enough one, was to seize the two guards atthe outside of the door, and to hold them fast until Lord Rae shouldhave rushed past them and got out of the prison. The turnkey at theouter door, who, as has been already said, was a little slender man, hislordship was to seize and throw down, and then get over the littlehalf-door, which was under his guardianship, the best way he could. Arow of short, sharp pikes, however, with which it was fenced on itsupper edge, rendered this a formidable difficulty; but it was thoughtthat it might, to speak literally, be got over by the aid of a long formwhich stood on one side of the passage of the jail, for theaccommodation of visitors. 

All this trouble a touch of the key would have saved; but this thelittle man always carried in his pocket, never allowing it to remain inthe lock an instant, however frequent or numerous his visitors might be. 

The securing of the two guards at the prisoner's door, by far the mostserious part of the business, M'Kay took upon himself, and with a degreeof confidence that sufficiently showed how well he was aware of his ownsurpassing strength. 

This plan of proceedings arranged, it was resolved that it should be putin execution that very afternoon. On that afternoon, accordingly, JohnM'Kay again appeared at the jail door, demanding admittance to hismaster. The door was immediately thrown open to him by the littleturnkey, whom he now for the first time addressed in a friendly tone. 

The same change of manner marked his salutation to the guards at thedoor of his master's apartment. To these he spoke in the most civil andobliging terms possible. The men, who had often winced under his savagegrowls and fierce looks, wondered at the change, but were glad enough tomeet with it in place of his former ferocity. 

John, after talking for a few minutes with the sentinels, went into hislordship's room. The latter was dressed, and ready for the boldproceeding about to be adopted. "Think you you can manage them, John?"said his lordship in a whisper, after the door had been secured in theinside. 

"Pooch, a dizzen o' them, my lort!" replied M'Kay in the sameunder-tone. "It's twa bits o' shachlin' podies no wors speakin' aboot. "

"But they are armed, John--they have guns and bayonets; and the formerare loaded. "

"Pooch, their guns! what'll sicknify their guns, my lort, when I'll havecot a hold o' the craturs themsels in my hants?" and he held out hisenormous brown paws as if to certify their power. "I'll crush the podieslike a mussel shells. "

"No violence, John, remember, " said Lord Rae energetically, but smilingas he spoke, --"that is, to the extent of doing the men any, the smallestpersonal injury. Remember now, John; do otherwise, " continued hislordship in a more severe tone, "and you forfeit my favour and esteemfor ever. Mark, John, besides, " added his lordship, who seemed mostanxious on the point which he was now pressing on M'Kay's consideration, "your doing any injury to these men would be destruction to me; for, under such circumstances, the general would not grant me a protectionafter I was out, and my case would otherwise be rendered infinitelyworse and more hopeless than it is. Now, remember all this, John, and dothe men no personal injury, I charge you. "

John's face reddened a little at the earnestness with which theseinjunctions were delivered, and probably he thought they indicatedsomething like degeneracy in his chief; but he promised compliance withhis commands; and, to render his obedience more certain, by lesseningthe temptation to infringe them, he denuded himself of a concealed dirk, which he always carried about him, over and above the arms he openlywore. Of this proceeding, which was voluntary on M'Kay's part, hismaster highly approved, but, smiling, said--

"You have still your fists, John, nearly as dangerous weapons as thatyou have just laid aside; but I hope you will use them sparingly. "

John smiled, and promised he would. 

In a few minutes afterwards M'Kay came forth from Lord Rae's apartmentto perform the daring feat of securing two armed men by the mere forceof physical strength; for he was now without weapon of any kind. When hecame out, however, it was with an appearance of the most friendlyfeeling towards the soldiers. He came out smiling graciously, andentered into familiar chat with the men, alleging that he came to putoff the time till his master had written a letter which he was todeliver to a person in town. 

Thrown off their guard by M'Kay's jocular and cordial manner, thesoldiers grounded their muskets, and began to enter in earnest into theconversation which he was promoting. M'Kay, in the meantime, waswatching his opportunity to seize them; but this, as it was necessary heshould be placed, with regard to them, so as to have one on either sideof him, that he might grasp both at the same instant, he did not obtainfor some time. 

By dint, however, of some exceedingly cautious and wary manoeuvring, M'Kay at length found himself in a position favourable to his meditatedproceedings. On doing so, he, with the speed and force of lightning, darted an arm out on either side of him, seized a soldier by the breastwith each hand, and with as much ease as a powerful dog could turn overa kitten, laid them both gently on their backs on the floor of thepassage, where he held them extended at full length, and immovable inhis tremendous grasp, till he felt assured that Lord Rae had cleared theprison. This the latter effected with the most perfect success. Themoment M'Kay seized the soldiers--an act of which Lord Rae was apprisedby the former's calling out, "Noo, noo, my lort"--he rushed out, ranalong the passage, descended the stair in three or four leaps, came uponthe little turnkey unawares, as he was looking over the half-door of theprison entrance--his sole occupation during three-fourths of theday--seized him by the neck of the coat behind, laid him down, as M'Kayhad done by the soldiers, at his full length--no great length afterall--on the floor; drew the form to the door, placed it over the littleturnkey in such a way as to prevent his rising, jumped on it, leapt intothe street at one bound, and instantly disappeared. All this was done inthe tenth part of the time that has been taken to relate it. It was, intruth, the work of but a moment. 

On being satisfied that Lord Rae had made his escape--

"Noo, lads, ye may got up, " said M'Kay, loosening his hold of the men, and starting himself to his feet. "Ta burd's flown; but ye may lookafter ta cage, and see tat no more o' your canaries got away. "

Freed from the powerful grasp which had hitherto pinned them to thefloor, the soldiers sprang to their feet, and endeavoured to get hold oftheir muskets. Seeing this, M'Kay again seized them, and again threwthem to the floor; but on this occasion it was merely to show the powerhe had over them, if they should still have any doubt of it. 

"Noo, lads, I'll tell you what it is, " said M'Kay, addressing theprostrate soldiers--"if you'll behave yoursels desenly, and no bebotherin' me wi' ony more o' your tarn nonsense, I'll aloo you to makeme your prisoner; for I'm no intending to run away; I'll kive myself upto save your hides, and take my shance of ta law for what I'll do. Tat'smy mind of it, lads. If you like to acree to it, goot and well; if not, I will knock your two heads togidder, till your prains go into smash. "

But too happy to accept of such terms, the soldiers at once assented tothem; and on their doing so, were permitted once more to resume theirlegs, when M'Kay peaceably yielded himself their prisoner. The giganticHighlander could easily have effected his own escape; but he could nothave done so without having recourse to that violence which had been soanxiously deprecated by both his master and mistress. Without inflictingsome mortal injury on the soldiers, he could not have prevented themfrom pursuing him when he had fled, and probably firing on him as he didso. All this, therefore, had been provided for by the arrangementspreviously agreed upon by Lord Rae and his retainer. By these it wassettled, that he should, on the former's making his escape, peaceablyyield himself up to "underlie the law, " in a reliance on the friendlydisposition of Cromwell towards the fugitive, which, it was not doubted, would be exerted in behalf of his servant. Such proceeding, it wasthought too, would bring Lord Rae's case sooner to issue; and be, withregard to the law, as it were, throwing a bone in the dog's way toarrest his attention, and interrupt his pursuit of the original and moreimportant object of his vengeance. 

On delivering himself up, M'Kay was immediately placed in confinement, and shortly after brought to trial, for aiding and abetting in theescape of a State prisoner. The trial was a very brief one; for thefacts were easily established, and sentence was about to be passed onthe prisoner, when a stir suddenly arose at the court door. Thepresiding judge paused; the stir increased. In the next instant it washushed; and in that instant Cromwell entered the court. On advancing apace or two within the apartment, he took off his hat, bowedrespectfully to the judges, and proceeding onwards, finally ascended thebench and took his seat beside them. 

When a man feels himself master, he need be under no great ceremony;neither need he trouble himself much about forms or rules which regulatethe conduct of inferiors. Cromwell, on this occasion, got up in a fewminutes after he had taken his place, and delivered to the court a long, and, after his usual fashion, obscure and unconnected oration in favourof the prisoner at the bar. The chief ground, however, on which herested his defence and exculpation of M'Kay, was the fidelity to hismaster, which the crime with which he was charge implied, and the worseeffect to the cause of morality than good to the political interests ofthe State, which the infliction of any punishment in such case wouldproduce. "If, " concluded Cromwell, "fidelity to a master is to bepunished as a crime, where shall we look for honest servants?"

The reasoning of Cromwell, even had it been less cogent than it was, could not be but convincin to those who knew of and dreaded his power. He was listened to with the most profound attention, and the justnessof his arguments and force of his eloquence acknowledged by theacquittal of the prisoner. 

As M'Kay rose from his seat at the bar to leave the court, Cromwell eyedhim attentively for some seconds, and, struck with his prodigious sizeand fierce aspect, whispered to one of the judges near him, "May theLord keep me from the devil's and _that_ man's grasp. "

We have now only to add, that the protection promised by Cromwell toLady Rae for her husband was duly made out, and delivered to her. Weneed not say that it was found to be a perfectly efficient document. 

THE DIAMOND EYES. 

When I entered Edinburgh College the students were tolerably free fromany of those clubs or parties into which some factitious subject--oftena whim--divides them. In the prior year the spirit of wager had seized agreat number of them with the harpy talons of the demon of gambling, giving rise to consequences prejudicial to their morals, as well as totheir studies. A great deal of money among the richer of them changedhands upon the result of bets, often the most frivolous, if notaltogether ridiculous. Now, we are not to say that, abstracted from thelove of money, the act of betting is unqualifiedly bad, if rather we maynot be able to say something for it, insomuch as it sometimes bringsout, and stamps ingenuity or sagacity, while it represses and chastisesarrogance. But the practice at the College at that time was actuallywild. They sought out subjects; the aye and the no of ordinary conversewas followed by the gauntlet, which was taken up on the instant; andthey even had an umpire in the club, a respectable young man of the nameof Hawley, who was too wise to bet himself, but who was pleased with thehonour of being privileged to decide the bets of the others. 

In the heat of this wild enthusiasm, it happened that two of theseyouths, one called Henry Dewhurst, and the other Frank Hamilton, werewalking on the jetty which runs out from the harbour of Leith a fullmile into the Forth. Dewhurst was the son of a West India planter, whoallowed him £300 a year, every penny of which was spent in paying only apart of his bills long before the year was done; one of which bills Ihad an opportunity of seeing, to my wonder--how any one could eat £15worth of tarts and sweetmeats in the course of not many months! Hamiltonwas the son of a west country proprietor, and enjoyed the privilege ofusing, to his ruin, a yearly allowance of £250. In the midst of theirsauntering they hailed two of their friends, --one Campbell, a sworncompanion of the young West Indian; and the other Cameron, as closelyallied to Hamilton;--all the four being, as the saying goes, "birds of afeather, " tossing their wings in the gale of sprees, and not alwayssleeping in their own nests at night. 

As they approached the end of the jetty, they met a lad who had woundedone of these large gulls called Tom Norries, --a beautiful creature, withits fine lead-coloured wings and charming snow-white breast, and eyelike a diamond. 

"I will give you a shilling for the bird, " said Dewhurst. 

"But what are you to do with it?" replied the lad. "I would not like itto be killed. It is only hurt in the wing; and I will get half-a-crownfor it from one who has a garden to keep it in. "

"No, no, " said Dewhurst, "I'll not kill it. Here's your half-crown. "

And the bargain was struck. Dewhurst, with the struggling bird in hishand, went down, followed by his friends, one of the side stairs to thestone rampart, by which the jetty is defended on the east. There theysat down. The sun was throwing a blaze of glory over a sea which repaidthe gift with a liquid splendour scarcely inferior to his of fire; andthe companions of the bird, swirling in the clear air, seemed to beattracted by the sharp cries of the prisoner; but all its efforts werevain to gratify its love of liberty and their yearning. It was in thehands of those who had neither pity for its sufferings, considerationfor the lessons it carried in its structure, nor taste for estimatingits beauties. One of another kind of students might have detectedadaptations in the structure of that creature sufficient to have raisedhis thoughts to the great Author of design and the source of allbeauty, --that small and light body, capable of being suspended for agreat length of time in the air by those broad wings, so that, as a birdof prey, it should watch for its food without the aid of a perch; thefeathers, supplied by an unctuous substance, to enable them to throw offthe water and keep the body dry; the web-feet for swimming; and the longlegs, which it uses as a kind of stay, by turning them towards the headwhen it bends the neck, to apply the beak--that beak, too, so admirablyformed--for taking up entire, or perforating the backs of the sillyfishes that gambol too near the surface. Ay, even in these fishes, which, venturing too far from their natural depths, and becoming amorousof the sun, and playful in their escapades, he might see the symbol ofman himself, who, when he leaves the paths of prudence, and getstop-light with pleasure, is ready, in every culmination of his delirium, to be caught by a waiting retribution. Ah! but our student, who held thebird, was not incurious--only cold and cruel in his curiosity. 

"Hamilton, " said he, "that bird could still swim on the surface of thatsea, though deprived of every feather on its body. "

"I deny it, " replied Hamilton. "It will not swim five minutes, "

"What do you bet?"--- The old watchword. 

"Five pounds. "

"Done. "

And getting Campbell to hold the beak, which the bird was using with allits vigour, he grasped its legs and wings together by his left hand, andbegan to tear from the tender living skin the feathers. Every handfulshowed the quivering flesh, and was followed by spouts of blood; nor didhe seem to care--although the more carefully the flaying operation wasperformed, the better chance he had of carrying his wager--whether hebrought away with the torn tips portions of the skin. The writhing ofthe tortured creature was rather an appeal to his deliberate cruelty, and the shrill scream only quickened the process. The back finished andbloody, the belly, snow-white and beautiful, was turned up, the featherstorn away, the breast laid bare, and one wing after the other stript ofevery pinion. Nothing in the shape of feathers, in short, was left, except the covering of the head, which resisted his fingers. 

"There now is Plato's definition of a man personified, " said he as helaughed. 

During all this time a lady looked over the parapet. Dewhurst caught hereye red with anger, but he only laughed the louder. 

"Now, Hamilton, " said he, "you take the bird, and we mount to theplatform. When I give the sign, fling him in, and we shall see how thebet goes. "

They accordingly mounted, and the lady turning her back, as if she hadbeen unable to bear longer the sight of so much cold cruelty, directedher vision towards the west; but a little boy, who was along with her, seemed to watch the operation. 

"Now, " cried Dewhurst. 

And Hamilton thiew the bird into the sea. The creature, stillvivacious, true to its old instinct, spread out its bare wings in anattempt to fly, but it was in vain; down it came sinking below thesurface, but rising quickly again to lash, with the bleeding wings, thewater on which it used to swim so lightly and elegantly. The strugglebetween the effort to fly and the tendency to sink was continued forseveral minutes, its screams bringing closer around it many of itscompeers, who looked as if with pity and amazement on the sufferingvictim, known to them now only by the well-known cry of distress. 

Meanwhile these curious students of natural history stood looking overthe rail, watch in hand; and the little boy, an important personage inour story, also intent upon the experiment, cried out two solitarywords, very simple ones too, and yet fraught with a strange import, asregards consequences, that could not be gathered from them. 

"See, ma'. "

But the lady to whom they were addressed had still her head turned away. 

"Six minutes, " cried Dewhurst. "The time is up, and the bird is onlythis instant down. I win. "

"I admit it, " responded Hamilton, evidently disconcerted. "I shall payyou to-night at Stewart's, at seven o'clock. I got my remittanceyesterday. "

"Content, " said Dewhurst, "That's the third bet I have gained off youwithin a fortnight, "

Hamilton bit his lip and scowled--- an act which only roused against himthe raillery of his comrades, who were now collected in a circle, andsymptoms of anger of a more expressive kind showed themselves. 

"You have been at this trade of flaying before, " said he, lookingsternly at Dewhurst. "Your father, like the other West Indians, is wellacquainted with the flaying of negroes, and you have been following hisexample with the Jamaica lungies. But, by G--d, " he added, gettingenraged, "next time we cross the rapiers of a bet, it shall be for tentimes five. "

"This instant, " answered Dewhurst, on whom the imputations about hisfather acted as a fiery stimulant. 

"Seek your subject, " responded Hamilton. 

"You see that lady there?" continued the West Indian. "She has a boywith her. "

"I do. "

"The mother of the boy, or not?" continued Dewhurst. "I say she is; and, in place of fifty, I'll make it a hundred. "

"Have you ever seen them before?" asked Hamilton, trying to be calm. 

"Never. I know no more of them than you do; and, besides, I give youyour choice of mother, or not mother. "

"Ha! ha!" laughed Campbell, as he looked intently at Dewhurst. "Are youmad, Dewhurst? Has your last triumph blinded you? The woman is too oldby ten years. "

Hamilton turned round without saying a word, and drew cautiously nearthe lady, whose eyes, as she stood looking at a foreign ship coming in, were still scornful, and it seemed as if she waited until some gentlemancame up to inform him of the cruel act she had so recently witnessed. Resisting her fiery glances, he surveyed her calmly, looking by turns ather and the boy. A slight smile played on his lip in the midst of theindications of his wrath. One might have read in that expression--

"Not a feature in these two faces in the least similar, and the age isbeyond all mortal doubt. I have the gull-flayer on the hip at last. "

And returning to the companions with the same simulated coolness--

"Done for a hundred, " he said. "That lady is not the mother of thatboy. "

"Agreed, " answered Dewhurst, with a look of inward triumph. "How to bedecided?"

"By the lips of the lady herself. "

"Agreed. "

"Yes, " joined Campbell, "if you can get these lips to move. She looksangry, and now she is moving along probably for home, bequeathing to usthe last look of her scorn. We shall give her time to cool down, andCameron and I will then pay our respects to her. We shall get it out ofthe boy if she refuse to answer. "

It was as Campbell said. The lady with the boy, who held her by thehand, had begun her return along the jetty. The companions kept walkingbehind; and of these, Campbell and Dewhurst fell back a little from theother two. 

"Hark, Campbell, " said Dewhurst. "Back me against Cameron for any sumyou can get out of him. I'm sure of my quarry; and, " laughing within theteeth, he added, "I'll gull him again. "

"You're ruined, man, " whispered his companion. "The woman is evidentlytoo old, and I am satisfied you will catch some of her wrinkles. "

A deeper whisper from Dewhurst conveyed to the ear of his friend--

"I heard the boy call her mother. "

"The devil!" exclaimed Campbell in surprise; but, catching himself, "itmight have been grandmother he meant. "

"No, no. Children in Scotland use grandma', never ma', to grandmother. I'm satisfied; and if you are not a fool, take advantage of my "--

"Dishonesty, " added Campbell. 

"No; all fair with that fellow Hamilton. Besides, all bets assume aretention of reasons, otherwise there could be no bets. In addition, Idid not assert that I did not hear them address each other. "

"That's something, " said Campbell. "I do not say it is impossible, oreven very improbable, that she may be the mother; and if you will assureme, on your honour, of what you heard, I will have a little speculativepeculation on Cameron. "

"I can swear; and if I couldn't, do you think I would have bet so high, as in the event of losing I should be ruined?"

"I'm content, " said Campbell. "Ho, there, Cameron! I will back Dewhurston the maternity for ten. "

"That will just pay Nightingale, " replied Cameron. "I accept. Now forthe grand _denouement_. Let us accost the arbitress of our fortunes. "

"Not yet, " said Hamilton. "Wait till she gets to the lighthouse, wherethere are people. It is clear she has not a good opinion of us, and inthis solitary place she might get alarmed. "

Hanging back to wait their opportunity, now upon the verge of a decisionwhich might be attended with disastrous results to some of them, thewhole four appeared absorbed in anxiety. Not a word was spoken; and itseemed possible that, during these trying minutes, a hint would havebroken up the imprudent and dangerous compact. The terror of the clubwas before them, and the false honour which ruled them, in place ofobedience to their fathers, and humanity to dumb creatures, retained theascendency. So has it ever been with the worship of false gods: theirexactions have always been in proportion to the folly and credulity oftheir votaries. The moment was approaching. The die was to carryformidable issues. Dark shadows broke in through the resolution to bebrave, as might have been observed in the features of both theprincipals. At length Campbell took the lead. They approached the lady, who at first seemed to shrink from them as monsters. 

"We beg pardon, " he said. "Be assured, madam, we have not the mostdistant intention to offend you. The truth is, that we have a bet amongus as to whether you are the mother of this fine boy. We assure you, moreover, that it was the sport of betting that sought out the subject, and the nature of that subject cannot, we presume, be prejudicial eitherto your honour or your feelings. While I ask your pardon, allow me toadd that the wager, foolish or not, is to be decided by your answer--yesor no. "

"No. "

After pronouncing, with a severe sternness, this monosyllable, shepaused a little; and looking round upon the youths with a seriousnessand dignity that sat upon her so well that they shrunk from her glance, she added, with a corresponding solemnity--

"Would to God, who sees all things--ay, and punishes all those who arecruel to the creatures He has formed with feelings suitable to theirnatures, and dear to them as ours are to us--that he who bet upon mybeing the mother of this boy may be he who tortured the unoffendingbird!"

And, with these words, she departed, leaving the bewildered studentslooking at each other, with various emotions. It was, perhaps, fortunatefor Dewhurst that the little sermon, contrary to the practice of thecourts, came after, in place of preceding the condemnation, for he hadbeen rendered all but insensible by the formidable monosyllable. He sawthere was some mystery overhanging his present position. He doubted, and he did not doubt the lady; but he heard the boy use the word, andhe took up the impression that he was, by some mistake on his part, tobe punished for the flaying of the bird. The lady's eye, red and angry, had been fixed upon him, and now, when she was gone, he still saw it. But there were more lurid lights, playing round certain stern factsconnected with his fortunes. He must pay this £100 on the decision ofher who had burned him with her scorn. There was no relief for him. Theclub at the College had no mercy, and he had enraged Hamilton, whosespirit was relentless. He had been under rebuke from his father, who hadthreatened to cut him off; and, worse still, the remnant of the lastyearly remittance was £110 in the Royal Bank, while debts stood againsthim in the books of tailors, confectioners, tavern-keepers, shoemakers--some already in the form of decrees, and one at least in theadvanced stage of a warrant. To sum up all, he was betrothed to MissM------- sh, the sister of a writer to the signet, who had alreadyhinted doubts as the propriety of the marriage. He saw himself, inshort, wrecked on the razor-backed shelving rocks of misery. In hisextremity, he clutched at a floating weed: the woman, the lady, did notspeak the truth. He had ears, and could hear, and he would trust tothem. The boy could not be wrong. 

"Campbell, " he cried, "dog her home--she lies!" Hamilton and Campbellburst out into a laugh, but Campbell had been taken aback by the lady'sanswer: he had not £10 to pay Cameron, and the fear of the club wasbefore him, with its stern decree of the brand of caste and rejection byhis associates. Since the moment of the lady's answer, he had beenconscious of obscure doubts as to her truthfulness, clustering round thesuspicion that she might have known, by hearing something, thatDewhurst, the gull-flayer, was on the side of the maternity, and thatshe wanted to punish him--a notion which seemed to be favoured by thesomewhat affected manner of her expressing her little sermon. Thesedoubts, fluid and wavering, became, as it were, crystallized byDewhurst's cry that she was a liar; and, the moment he felt the sharpangles of the idea, he set off after the lady. 

This hope, which was nothing more than despair in hysterics, enabledDewhurst to withstand, for a little, the looks of triumph in Hamiltonand Cameron, in spite of their laugh, which still rung in his ears. Thesermon had touched him but little, and if he could have got quit of thiswildly contracted debt, he would likely be the same man again. He didnot, as yet, feel even the dishonour of having taken advantage of theboy's statement--an act which he had subtlety enough to defend. Give himonly relief from this debt, the fire of the club, the stabbing glancesof Hamilton's eye. At least he was not bound to suffer the personalexpression of his companions' triumph any longer than he could away. 

"We will wait the issue of Campbell's inquiry, " he said with affectedcalmness. "I have a call to make in the Links. "

And he was retreating, even as he uttered these words. 

"I owe you £5, " cried Hamilton, "which, _as a man of honour_, I pay youto-night at seven o'clock, upon the instant, at Stewart's. I have nowish to be dragged before the club. "

With this barb, touched with wararra poison, or ten times distilledkakodyle, and a layer of honey over all, Dewhurst hurried away, to makeno call. He was hard to subdue, and a puppy, whose passion it was tostrut, in the perfection of a refined toilette, among fashionablestreet-walkers. While he was abroad, his cares rankling within wereoverborne by the consciousness of being "in position. " The dog's nose iscold even when his tongue is reeking; and as he walked slowly along, hisexterior showed the proper thermo-metric nonchalance--it was not thetime for a pyrometric measurement within the heart. On his way, hetalked to a Leith merchant, who hailed him; yet he exhibited therequired _retenu_, so expressive of confidence and ease within, andwithal so fashionable. You might have said that he had the heart to winga partridge, --to "wing it, " a pretty phrase in the mouth of a politesportsman, who, if a poacher were to break the bones of his leg, would, in his own case, think it a little different. Yes, Dewhurst might havebeen supposed to be able to "wing a partridge, "--not to "flay a gull. "

It was while thus "in position"--not its master, but its slave--thatcurvation of the spine of society, which produces so much paralysis anddeath--that, when he came to Princes Street, he felt himself constrainedand able to walk up South St. Andrew Street, direct to the door of theRoyal Bank. He even entered; he even drew a draft; he even made thatdraft £110, all the money he had there in keeping for so many comingwants and exigencies; he even presented it to the teller, who knew hiscircumstances and his dangers--ay, and his father's anxieties while hesent the yearly remittance. 

"All, Mr. Dewhurst?" said the teller, looking blank at the draft. 

"All, sir; I require it all, " answered the student, with such a mouthfulof the vowel, that we might write the word _requoire_, and not be farfrom the pronunciation. 

The teller gave his head a significant shake. If he had had a tail toshake, and had shaken that tail, it would have been much the same. 

Having got the money, he was more than ever under the law of thatproclivity, on the broad line to ruin, on which so many young men takestations; and still retaining his, he went at the hour of the hotjoints, to dine at the Rainbow, where he met many others, in thatrefreshment house, of the same class, who, like himself, considered--that is, while the money was there--that guineas in thepurse supersede the necessity of having ideas in the head. He took tosuch liquid accompaniments of the dinner, as would confirm theresolution he had formed, of paying at once his debt of honour. And whynot? Was not he of that world whose code of laws draws the legitimateline of distinction between debts contracted to industrious tradesmenfor the necessaries of life, and those which are the result of whim, pride, or vindictiveness? All recollections of the flaying of the bird, and of the lady's adjuration to heaven, had given way to the enthusiasmof the noble feeling to obey the dictates of that eternal and immutablecode of honour. And by seven o'clock he was at Stewart's, where he foundHamilton and Cameron waiting for their respective "pounds of flesh. "

"Here is the £5, " cried Hamilton, as he entered; and, throwing the noteupon the table, "it is for the gull trick. "

"And here, " responded the West Indian, "is your £100 for the womantrick. "

And he cast from him the bundle of notes, with a grandeur of both honourand defiance. "But I have a reservation to make. Campbell has notreported to me the issue of his commission; and if it shall turn outthat the woman retracts, I will reclaim the money. "

"And get it too, " said the other, laughing sneeringly, as he countedthe notes. "But here comes Campbell. "

"Campbell, " cried Cameron, as his debtor entered, "I want my £10 to payNightingale. "

"Ask Dewhurst, " said Campbell. "I have been cheated by him. He told me alie. The woman speaks true, and I shall be revenged. "

"I have nothing to do with Dewhurst, " answered Cameron. "You are mydebtor; and if I don't get the money to-night--you know my lodgings--theclub will decide upon it to-morrow. "

And, throwing a withering look upon his old friend--a word now changedfor, and lost in that expressive vocable, debtor--he hurried out, followed by Hamilton, who had both his money and his revenge, and wishedto be beyond the reach of a recall. 

Left to themselves, the two remaining friends of the hour before, butnow no longer friends, looked sternly at each other. The one consideredhimself duped; the other was burning under the imputation of being acheat and a liar. 

"Oh I don't retract, " said Campbell, with increased fierceness. "It wasupon the faith of your word that I ventured the bet against my ownconvictions. I have traced the lady to Great King Street, where sheresides, as the aunt of the boy; and I am satisfied that, in a casewhere the boy's mother is alive, and now in her own house, he, of theage he is, never could have used the word mother or mamma, or any wordof that import, to his father's sister. All power and energies arecomparative. This £10 cracks the spine of my fortune as effectually asten times the amount. I have not the money, and know no more where tofind it than I do to get hold of the philosopher's stone. I repeat Ihave been cheated, and I demand of you the money. "

"Which you shall never get, " replied Dewhurst. "I can swear that Iheard the words. They thrill on my ears now; and the best proof of myconviction is, that I am myself ruined. Yes, " and he began to roll hiseyes about, as the terrors of his situation came rushing upon him, onthe wake of the now departing effects of the Rainbow wine--"Yes, theswell, the fop, the leader of the college _ton_, whose coat came fromthe artistic study of Willis, whose necktie could raise a _furore_, whose glove, without a wrinkle, would condescend only to be touched byfriendship on the tip of the finger, is now at the mercy of any one oftwenty sleasy dogs, who can tell the sheriff I owe them money. Money!why, I have only fifteen pounds in the wide world, and I must pay thatto my landlady. "

As he uttered these last words, the door opened, and there stood beforehim a man with a blue coat, surmounted by a red collar. He held a paperin his hand; his demeanour was deferential and exuberantly polite. 

"That sum you have mentioned, sir, " he said, looking to the student, "with £10 added, will save you and me much trouble. The debt to Mr. Reidis £25; and here is a certain paper which gives me the power to do anunpolite thing. You comprehend? I am an advocate for painlessoperations. "

"Will you accept the £15?" said Dewhurst, now scarcely able toarticulate. 

"Yes, if this gentleman here, who is, I presume, your friend, willkindly add the £10. The expenses may stand. "

Campbell could only grin at this strange conversation. 

"Unwilling?" continued the messenger. "Ah, I see. It is strange thatwhen I devote myself to a gentleman, his friends fly away. This is mymisfortune. Well, there is no help for it. We must take a walk to theprison, " addressing himself to his debtor. "You are a gentleman, and Ishall be your servant in livery. "

Dewhurst braced himself with a violent effort, like a spasm, and tookhis hat. 

"Give me the £10, " said Campbell. "It will make no difference now. Thereare no degrees in despair. "

"I must take care of my master's money, " said the officer, with anattempt at a smile; and without going the full length of imitating thatmost philanthropic of all executors of the law, Simpson, who patted hisvictims on the back while he adjusted the rope, he added, "And now, sir, I am at your humble service. "

In a very short time after, the strange events of that day wereterminated by the young man being placed in the debtor's prison of theCalton. Like other jail birds, he at first shunned his brethren inmisfortune, fleeing to his room, and shrouding himself in solitude andpartial darkness. The change from a life of gaiety, if not dissipation, to the experiences of prison squalor, had come upon him withoutpreparation, if indeed preparation for evil ever diminishes or muchameliorates the inevitable effects of the visitation. Unfortunatesexhibit wonderful diversities in their manifestations. Dewhurst becamedejected, broken in spirits, sad, and remorseful. He scarcely stirredfrom the bed on which he had thrown himself when he entered; and hismind became a theatre where strange plays were acted, and strangepersonages performed strange parts, under the direction of stagemanagers over whom he had no control. Though some unhappy predecessor inthe same cell had scribbled on the wall, "A prison is a cannie place, Though viewed with reprobation, Where cheats and thieves, and scants o' grace, Find time for cogitation, "

he did not find that he could properly cogitate or meditate, even if hehad been, which he never was, a thinker. All his thoughts were reducedto a continued wild succession of burning images, --the mild face of hismother, so far away, as it smiled upon him when he ran about among thecane groves of the west; the negroes, with their "young massa" on theirtongues, jabbering their affection; his father scowling upon him asundutiful; another, not so far away, in whose eyes--beautiful tohim--love dwelt as his worshipper, looking all endearment, only the nextmoment to cast upon him the withering glance of her contempt, if nothatred; admirers, toadies, satellites, and sycophants, all there ingroups and in succession, beslabbering him with praises, then explodingin peals of laughter. Nor was another awanting in these saturnalia--theform and face of her whose one word of sentence had been to him as adoom, and who fixed that doom in his soul by her red glance of reproof. Seemingly very indifferent objects assumed in the new lights of hisspirit gigantic and affraying features, --the sea-gull, with its tornback, bleeding and quivering, and those diamond eyes so bright even inits looks of agony--an object low indeed in the scale of nature, buthere elevated by some overruling power into the very heart of man'sactions and destinies, as if to show out of what humble things thelightnings of retribution may come. Nay, these diamond eyes haunted him;they were everywhere in these saturnalian reveries, following everyrecurring image as an inevitable concomitant which he had no power todrive away, entering into the orbits of the personages, gleaming out ofthe heads of negroes, that of his father, that of his mother, even thatof his mistress, imparting to the looks and glances of the latter abrilliancy which enhanced beauty, while it sharpened them intopoignancy. But most of all were they in some way associated with theform of the unknown lady. She never appeared to him as the being on whomhis destiny was suspended; but, sooner or later, her own comparativelylustreless orbs changed into those diamonds, which could fulminate scornnot less than they could beam out supplication. 

For several days and nights he had scarcely any intervals of peace fromthese soul-penetrating fancies, and these moments were due to visits. But who came to visit? Not the writer to the signet, the brother of hisaffianced, whom he had expected to see first of all as a friend, if notas a relation, ready to extend the hand that would save him; not any ofthose with whom he had shared the folly of extravagance, if notdissipation, on whom he had lavished favours in the wildness of hisgenerosity. The first was felicitating himself on his sister's escape;the latter received the lesson that teaches prudence _a la distance_. His only visitors were one or two heads of families where he had beenreceived as a fashionable friend, and these came only to look andinquire. Their curiosity was satisfied when they got out of him theamount of his debt, and pleased when they considered that theirdaughters were at home, and under no chance of becoming allied to aprisoner. One or two old associates, too, paid their respects to him, but they were of those who had resisted his fascinations and found theirpleasures in their studies. We seek for the virtues, but we do notalways find them in the high places, where masks, copied from them andbearing their beautiful lineaments and their effulgence, are worn intheir stead only to cover the vices which are their very antipodes. No:more often in lowlier regions, lying _perdu_ behind vices, notvoluntary, but often, as it were, inflicted and peering out, ashamed tobe seen, because arrayed in the rags of poverty. A solitary femalestole in to him. Who was she? One with whom he had formed a connectionof not an honourable kind, only now interrupted by the walls of theprison? No. One whom he had long before cast off, only because the vicehe had inoculated her with had cast off the beauty that had inflamedhim. Nor did he know the meaning of that stealthy visit, which lastedonly for a few minutes--so unexpected, for he had not seen her duringmany months, so singular, so unnatural, so unlike the world, returninggratitude for injury, benediction for infamy, until, after she hadsuddenly slipped away, he found by the side of the wall a small bottleof wine. That form and face, once more beautiful in his estimation thanwere those even now of his honourable affianced, entered among theimagery of his reveries; but the diamond eyes never displaced those ofher gentle nature. He had wronged her, but they never filled with thefire of denunciation. She had looked her grief at him only through thetears he had raised in them, and had never attempted to dry. Yes, thediamond eyes entered everywhere, and into every form but that one wherethe red heat of revenge might have been expected to shrivel up andharden the issues of tears. 

Further on in the same evening, the jailer, a good-natured sort offellow, came in to him while he was absorbed in these thoughts. He wasat the time sitting on his bed. 

"A lady called in the dusk, " he said, "and inquired if it was true youwere here. I told her it was. "

"And what more?" asked the youth, as he started out of his day-dream. "But, stay--what like was she?"

"I could scarcely see her, " replied the man; "middling tail, ratheryoung, as I thought--with a veil, through which I could see a pair ofpretty, bright eyes. "

"Were they like diamonds?" cried the student, absolutely forgetting thathe was speaking to an ordinary mortal about very ordinary things. 

"Ha, ha! I never saw diamond eyes, " answered the jailer; "but I've seenglass ones in a doll's head looking very bright. Why, you 'aven't gotmad, like some of the chicken-hearted birds in our cage?"

"Yes, " cried the youth, "I'm frantic-mad; but stay, have patience. Didshe want to see me?"

"Yes, she asked if she could; but when I told her she might, she seemedto get afeared to come into a jail, and said she would call againto-morrow night at the same hour. "

"Can you tell me nothing more of what she was like?--not she who washere this evening?"

"Why, no; don't you think I know her kind? Oh, we see many o' them. Theystick closest to the unfortunate, but 'tis because they are unfortunatethemselves. Common thing, sir. Never feel for others till we havesomething to feel for ourselves. The visitor is a lady, sir. "

"Can you tell me nothing more?" said the student eagerly. "How was shedressed?"

"A large, elegant cloak, sir; can scarcely say more. "

"Was it trimmed with fur?"

"Not sure; but now, when I think, there was some lightish trimming--Imean lighter than the cloak. "

"And the bonnet?"

"Why, I think velvet; but you'll maybe see her yourself to-morrow. Thelike o' her may do you good. The unfortunates who stick so close to theunfortunate do no good--they're a plaster that don't cure. "

"It is Maria!" ejaculated Dewhurst, as the jailer shut the door. "Shefeels for me, and has come in spite of her hard-hearted brother. Herdiamond eyes are of another kind. They speak wealth, and love to bestowit. Her fortune is her own, and with that I may yet turn that waywarddestiny, and laugh at my persecutors. "

That ray of hope, illuminating his soul, changed almost in an instantthe whole tenor of his mind. It might be compared to a stream of nervousenergy, emanating from the brain, and shooting down through the networkof chords, confirming convulsed muscles, and; imparting to tremblingmembers consistency of action and graces of motion. His reveries werescared by it, as owls under the influence of a sunbeam, and retreatedinto the dark recesses from which they had been charmed by theenchantment of despair. The personages of these visions were no longeravengers, casting upon him the burning beams of the diamond eyes. Theywere hopeful, pitiful; the flatterers and fawners were at their old workagain, and Pleasure, with her siren face, smiled blandishments on him. Then he would justify the favours of the heaven he made for himself. Hewould be a logician, for once, in that kind of dialectics called the"wish-born. "

"What was I afraid of?" he said to himself. "There is no turpitude, noshame in a fair bet. I was worsted in an honourable contest. What crazypower mocked me into the belief that all this that has befallen me wasconnected with the flaying of a bird? Don't we break the necks ofinnocent, yea, gentle fowls, not depredators like gulls, every day forour dinners? And don't ladies, as delicate as the unknown censor whodared to chastise me with her eyes, eat of the same, with a relishdelightful to the tongues that pronounce the fine words of pity andphilanthropy? But, even admitting there was cruelty in the act, where isthe link that binds it with the consequences which have brought mehere? The bet upon the maternity was not an effect of the flaying of thebird. If it followed the prior bet, it would have followed another, inwhich I was gainer, equally the same. The mad energy which weaves in myhead these day-dreams, and pursues me with these diamond eyes of wrath, is a lying power, and I shall master it by the strength of my reason, which at least is God's gift. Come, my Maria, as my good angel, andenable me to free my mind from illusions. I will sit and look into youreyes, as I have done so often. Yes, I will satisfy myself that theyshine still with the lustre of love, hope, and happiness; and oh, letthese, and these only, enter into my dreams. "

And thus he satisfied himself, as all do, whose hope weaves thesyllogisms of their wishes, and sits to see pleasure caught on the wing. The day passed apace to usher in the evening with its messenger ofpeace. Where, in that squalid place, would he seat her, whose peculiarprovince was the drawing-room? How would he receive her first look ofsympathy? how repay it? with what words express his emotions? with whatfervour kiss those lips redolent of forgiveness? with what ecstasy lookinto those eyes refulgent with love? He would control himself, and becalm. He would rehearse, that he might not fail in the forms of aninterview on which hung his destiny, almost his life. The hour of sevenarrived. He heard the heavy foot of the jailer come tramp, tramp alongthe lobby. There was a softer step behind, as if the echo of the heaviertread. A stern voice and a softer one mingled their notes. The dooropened. 

"My Mar--! O God! these scornful eyes again. "

"Not scornful now, " replied the soft voice of a woman, as she cameforward, and stood before him in the dusk. 

"Were there light enough, " she continued, "I would lift my veil andshow you that they are capable of a kindlier light than even that theynow carry, for the offering I made to heaven has been more thananswered. "

"Ah, you come to retract, " he said, "to speak the truth at last. It isnot too late to say you _are_ the mother--the mother of the boy. Norneed you be ashamed: there may be reasons; but many a woman lives torepent--"

"Hold, sir, " she cried with indignation, as she fixed upon him a lookeven more penetrating than that he so well remembered. "I have nothingto retract--nothing to be ashamed of. I came here out of pure sympathy, to make amends to one who has fallen for a prayer which burst from me inmy anger. Your friend, who called for me, told me that you were aprisoner, and that your imprisonment was the consequence of the wagerwhich it fell to me to decide. I did not come to repeat to you what Isaid before, that I am not the mother of the boy, but to make anexplanation. "

"And I have one to ask, " said he. 

"I am ready to answer. "

"How could I be deceived?" said he. "I heard the boy address you as hismother. "

"And that is what I came to explain. I have taxed my memory since Mr. Campbell insisted, in my presence, that Frederick did address me in themanner you have stated. Shall I tell you the precise words he used?"

"I wait for them. "

"Well, they were, 'See ma. '"

"The very words; and were they not enough for proof and belief?"

"Yes, sir; but there are words which have two significations. Ma' isthe contraction, as you know, for mamma, but it is pronounced the sameas _maw_, which is a word which we use to designate those birdsotherwise called gulls. I recollect that while I was unable to bear thesight of the tortured bird, and had turned my head in another direction, my nephew kept looking over the rails, and that, as he saw thestruggling creature, he cried out to me the words you misconstrued. Andthus the mystery is cleared up. "

"Miserable and fatal error, " he gasped out, as he staggered back. "Andthe connection!--the connection! There _was_ retribution in thosediamond eyes. "

"What mean you, sir?"

"The bird's eyes that haunt me in my reveries, and enter into thesockets of my dream-beings!"

"Are you mad?"

"No; or the heavens are mad, with their swirling orbs and blazingcomets, that rush sighing through space before some terrible power thatwill give them no respite, except with the condition that when they restthey die. "

"Poor youth! so early doomed; I pity you. "

"Ay, pity those who have no pity--those are the truly wretched; forpity, in the world's life, is the soul of reason's action. Ah, madam, itis those who have pity who do not need the pity of others, for they aregenerally free from the faults that produce the unhappiness that needspity. "

"But you have been punished, I admit, in a very strange and mysteriousway; for the word used by the boy was the joining link of the twotransactions, and you were led to misconstrue it--ay, and to takeadvantage of your misconstruction to get the better of your friend. "

"I see it all. "

"But I say you have been punished, " continued she, consolingly; "and Iperceive you are penitent--perhaps justice is satisfied; and when youare liberated, you may be the better for the lesson. I shall now reversemy prayer, and say to one I shall perhaps never see again, May God dealmercifully by you. "

And with these words, she retreated. But her prayer was never answered, so far as man can judge of heaven's mysterious ways. The convictionsettled down and down into his heart, that that apparently simple affairof killing a bird--which, even with the aggravation of all the crueltyexhibited by the thoughtless, yet certainly pitiless youth, is so apt tobe viewed carelessly, or only with an avowal of disapprobation--which, if too much insisted on as an act to be taken up by superiorretribution, is more apt still to be laughed at--was the cause of allthe ills that had befallen him. The diamond eyes proved to him no fancy. But for all this, we are afforded, by what subsequently occurred, somemeans of explanation, which will be greedily laid hold of by minutephilosophers. Even then it was to have been feared that the seeds ofconsumption had been deposited in favourable soil. In our difficultiesabout explanations of mental phenomena, we readily flee to diseases ofthe body, which, after all, only removes the mystery a step or two backin the dark. 

It remains for me to add some words of personal experience. Aconsiderable period after these occurrences, I had occasion--by aconnection with a medium through which Dewhurst received from hisfather, whose fortunes had in the meantime failed, a petty allowance--tobe the bearer to him, now liberated, of a quarter's payment. I forgetthe part of the town where I found him, but I have a distinctremembrance of the room. It was a garret, almost entirely empty. He waslying on a kind of bed spread upon the floor. There was a small grate, with a handful of red cinders in it; only one chair, and a pot or pan ortwo. There was a woman moving between him and the fireplace, as if shehad been preparing some warm drink or medicine of some kind for him. Idid not know then, but I knew afterwards, that that woman was she whocalled upon him in prison, and deposited the small bottle of wine. Herlove for him had always overcome any of those feelings of enmity, orsomething stronger, generally deemed so natural in one who has beenrobbed of her dearest treasure, and ruined. She alone had indeed notassumed the diamond eyes. The diamonds were elsewhere, --yea, in herheart, where she nourished pity for him who had so cruelly deserted her, and left her to a fate so common, and requiring only a hint to beunderstood by those who know the nature of women. After he had got outof prison, she sought him out, got the room for him, collected thepaltry articles, procured food for him, and continued to nurse him tillhis death, with all the tenderness of a lover who had not only not beencast off, but cherished. He betrayed the ordinary symptoms ofconsumption, and the few words he muttered were those of thanks. I thinkhe was buried in the Canongate Churchyard. 

DAVID LORIMER. 

 "There is a history in all men's lives. "--SHAKSPEARE. 

It has been often said, and, I believe, with truth, that there are fewpersons, however humble in station, whose life, if it has been of anyduration, does not present some incidents of an interesting, if notinstructive, nature. 

Induced by a belief in this assertion as a general truth, and yetfurther by an opinion that, in my own particular case, there areoccurrences which will be considered somewhat extraordinary, I ventureto lay the following sketch of my life before the reader, in the hopethat it will not be found altogether devoid of interest. 

With the earlier part of my history, which had nothing whateverremarkable in it, I need not detain the reader further than to say thatmy father was, though not a wealthy, a respectable farmer inLanarkshire; that he lived at----, within fourteen miles of Glasgow;that I was well educated; and that, at the period when I take up my ownhistory, I was in the eighteenth year of my age. 

Having given these two or three particulars, I proceed:

It was in the year 18--, and during the week of the Glasgow Fair, whichoccurs in July, that my father, who had a very favourable opinion of myintelligence and sagacity, resolved to entrust me with a certainimportant mission. This was to send me to the fair of Glasgow topurchase a good draught horse for him. 

I am not sure, however, that, with all the good opinion my fatherentertained of my shrewdness, he would have deputed me on the presentoccasion had he been able to go himself; but he was not able, beingconfined to bed by a severe attack of rheumatism. Be this as it may, however, the important business was put into my hands; and great was thejoy it occasioned me, for it secured me in an opportunity of seeingGlasgow Fair--a scene which I had long desired to witness, and which Ihad seen only once when but a very young boy. 

From the moment I was informed by my father of his intention of sendingme to the fair, and which was only on the day preceding that on whichthe horse-market is held, my imagination became so excited that I couldattend to nothing. I indeed maintained some appearance of working--forthough the son of a farmer, I wrought hard--but accomplished little ofthe reality. 

The joys and the splendours of Glasgow Fair, of which I had a dim butcaptivating recollection, rose before my mind's eye in brilliantconfusion, putting to rout all other thoughts, and utterly paralyzingall my physical energies. Nor was the succeeding night less blessed withhappy imaginings. My dreams were filled with visions of shows, Punch'sopera, rope-dancers, tumblers, etc. Etc. , and my ears rang with themusic of fiddles, bugles, tambourines, and bass drums. It was adelicious night with me; but the morning which brought an approach tothe reality was still more so. 

Getting up betimes, I arrayed myself in my best attire; which attire, asI well recollect, consisted of a white corduroy jacket, knee-breeches ofthe same colour and material, and a bright-red waistcoat. A "neatBarcelona, " tied carelessly round my neck, and a pair of flaming-redgarters, at least two inches broad, wound round my legs just below theknee, and ending in a knot with two dependent ends hanging down, thatwaved jauntily as I walked, completed my equipment. 

Thus arrayed, and with thirty pounds in my pocket to purchase a horsefor my father, I took the road, stick in hand, for Glasgow. 

It was a fine summer morning. I was in high spirits; and, in my redwaistcoat and red garters, looked, I believe, as tight and comely a ladas might be seen. 

Pushing on with a light heart and light step, I quickly reached thesuburbs of the city, and in a few minutes more was within view andearshot of the sights and sounds of the fair. I saw the crowd; I got aglimpse of the canvas roofs of the shows at the end of the oldbridge--the locality on which the fair was then held; and heard thescreaming and braying of the cracked trumpets, the clanging of thecymbals, and the thunders of the bass drums. 

My heart beat high on hearing these joyous sounds. I quickened my pace, and in a few seconds was in the thick of the throng that crowded thespace in front of the long line of shows extending from the bridge tothe Bridgegate. As it was yet several hours to the height of thehorse-market, I resolved on devoting that interval to seeing some of theinteresting sights which stood in such tempting array before me. 

The first that fixed my regard was "The Great Lancashire Giant, " whoseportrait at full length--that is, at the length of some fifteen ortwenty feet--flapped on a sheet of canvas nearly as large as themainsail of a Leith smack. 

This extraordinary personage was represented, in the picture, as a youthof sixteen, dressed in a ruffled shirt, a red jacket, and whitetrousers; and his exhibitor assured the spectators that, though but aboy, he already measured nine feet in height and seven feet round thebody; that each of his shoes would make a coffin for a child of fiveyears old, and every stocking hold a sack of flour. Six full-grownpersons, he added, could be easily buttoned within his waistcoat; andhis tailor, he asserted, was obliged to mount a ladder when he measuredhim for a jacket. 

Deeply interested by the astounding picture of this extraordinary youth, and the still more astounding description given of him by his exhibitor, I ascended the little ladder that conducted to the platform in front ofthe show, paid my twopence--the price of admission--and in the nextminute was in the presence of "The Great Lancashire Giant;" a positionwhich enabled me to make discoveries regarding that personage that werenot a little mortifying. 

In the first place, I found that, instead of being a youth of sixteen, he was a man of at least six-and-thirty; in the next, that if it had notbeen for the raised dais on which he stood, the enormous thickness ofthe soles of his shoes, and the other palpably fictitious contrivancesand expedients by which his dimensions were enlarged, he would notgreatly have exceeded the size of my own father. I found, in short, thatthe tremendous "Lancashire Giant" was merely a pretty tall man, andnothing more. 

Quitting this exhibition, and not a little displeased at being soegregiously bitten, I passed on to the next, which was "Mr. Higgenbotham's Royal Menagerie. The Noblest Collection of Wild Beastsever seen in the Civilised World. "

This was a splendid affair. On a narrow stage in front were seated fourfat red-faced musicians, in beef-eater coats, puffing and blowing onbugles and trombones. Close by these, stood a thin, sharp-eyed, sallow-complexioned man in plain clothes, beating a huge drum, andadding the music of a set of Pandean pipes, which were stuck into hisbosom, to the general harmony. This was Mr. Higgenbotham himself. 

But it was the paintings on the immense field of canvas above thatparticularly attracted my attention. On this field were exhibited anappalling collection of the most terrific monsters: lions, as large ascows, gambolling amongst rocks; ourang-outangs, of eight feet in height, walking with sticks in their hands, as grave and stately as drum-majors;and a serpent, as thick as a hogshead, and of interminable length--intruth, without any beginning, middle, or end--twining round anunfortunate black, and crushing him to death in its enormous folds. 

All this was irresistible. So up the stair I sprang, paid my sixpence, and in a moment after found myself in the centre of the well-saw dustedarea in the interior, gazing on the various birds and beasts in thecages around me. It was by no means a perplexing task; for, as in thecase of "The Great Lancashire Giant, " the fulfilment of the inside butlittle corresponded with the promise of the out. The principal part ofthe collection I found to consist of half-a-dozen starved monkeys, asmany parrots--grey and green, an indescribable monster, in a darkcorner, strongly suspected by some of the spectators of being a boy in apolar bear's skin, a bird of paradise, and a hedgehog, which theydignified with the name of a porcupine. 

"Whaur's the lions, and the teegers, and the elephants, and the boyinstructor, and the black man?" said a disappointed countryman, addressing a fellow in a short canvas frock or overall, who was crossingthe area with a bucket of water. 

"Ah! them's all in the other caravan, " replied the man, "vich should'ave been here on Monday night, but hasn't coom yet, and we suppose hasbroken down by the way; but there's a hanimal worth 'em all, " he added, pointing to the indescribable monster in the dark corner. "The mostcuriousest ever was seen. Take a look on him; and if you don't own heis, I'll heat him, skin and all. They calls him the great Guampa fromSouth America. "

Having said this, the fellow, desirous, for reasons best known tohimself, to avoid further questioning, hurried away, and disappeared ata side door. 

It was just as this man left us, and as the small crowd of spectators, of whom I was one, who had surrounded him, were dispersing, that agentleman--or a person, at least, who had the air and manner of one, although somewhat broken down in his apparel--came close up to me, andwhispered in my ear, in a perfectly calm and composed tone--

"My lad, you are robbed. "

With a start of horror, and a face as pale as death, I clapped my handon the outside of my buttoned jacket, to feel for my pocket-book, whichI carefully deposited in an inside pocket. It was gone. 

"Be calm--be composed, my lad, " said the gentleman, marking my excessiveagitation, and seeing that I was about to make some outcry. "The fellowswill bolt on the least alarm; and as there are three or four of them, may force their way out, if driven to extremity. Leave the matter to me, and I'll manage it for you. "

During all this time, the stranger, who had spoken in a very low tone, carefully abstained from looking towards those of whom he was speaking, and wore such an air of composure and indifference, that no one couldpossibly have suspected for a moment what was the subject of hiscommunication to me. 

Having made this communication, and desired me to remain where I was, and to exhibit no symptom of anything particular having happened, myfriend, as I could not but reckon him, went out for an instant. 

When he returned, he kept hovering about the entrance into the show, asif to prevent the egress of any one, but without making any sign to me, or even looking at me. My agitation during this interval was excessive;and although I strictly obeyed my friend's injunctions, notwithstandingthat I knew not to what they were to lead, I could not suppress thedreadful feelings by which I was distracted. I, however, did all I couldto refrain from exhibiting any outward sign of consciousness of my loss. 

To return to my friend. He had not stood, I think, more than a minute atthe entrance to the menagerie, when I observed three fellows, afterhaving winked to each other, edging towards it. My friend, on seeingthem approach, planted himself in the doorway, and, addressing thefirst, at the same time extending his arms to keep him back, said--

"Stop a moment, my lad, I have something to say to you. "

The fellow seemed taken aback for a moment by this salutation; but, quickly regaining his natural effrontery, he, with a tremendous oath, made an attempt to push past, when four policemen suddenly presentedthemselves at the entrance. 

"Come away, my lads, " said my friend, addressing them. "Just in time; aminute later, and the birds would have been flown. Guard the door therea moment. " Then, turning to the astonished spectators who were assembledin the area--"Ladies and gentlemen, " he said, "there has been a robberycommitted here within these fifteen minutes. I saw it done, and know theperson who did it; but as he has several colleagues here, all of whom Imay not have discovered, I have no doubt that the pocket-book--thearticle stolen--has been long since transferred to other hands thanthose that first took it. It is therefore necessary that we should all, without any exception, submit to a search of our persons by the officershere. "

No objection to this proceeding having been offered by any of thepersons present, the search began; my friend submitting himself thefirst. 

The operation was a tedious one; for it was unsuccessful. One afteranother, including the three suspicious characters already alluded to, was searched, but no pocket-book was found. At length, the last personwas taken in hand; and he, too, proved innocent--at least of thepossession of my lost treasure. 

I was in despair at this result, thinking that my friend must have beenmistaken as to the robbery--that is, as to his having witnessed it--andthat my money was irretrievably gone. No such despair of the issue, however, came over my friend--he did not appear in the leastdisconcerted; but, on the completion of the fruitless search, merelynodded his head, uttering an expressive humph. 

"It's gone, " said I to him in bitter anguish. 

"Patience a bit, my lad, " he replied, with a smile. "The pocket-book iswithin these four walls, and we'll find it too. "

Turning now to one of the men belonging to the establishment, he desiredhim to bring one of the rakes with which they levelled the sawdust inthe area. 

It was brought; when he set the man to work with it--to rake up, slowlyand deliberately, the surface of the sawdust, himself vigilantlysuperintending the operation, and directing the man to proceedregularly, and to leave no spot untouched. I need not say with whatintense interest I watched this proceeding. I felt as if life or deathwere in the issue; for the loss of such a sum as £30, although it couldnot, perhaps, be considered a very great one, was sufficiently large todistress my father seriously; and already some idea of never facing himagain, should the money not be recovered, began to cross my mind. 

All thoughts, however, of this or any other kind were absorbed, for themoment, by the deep interest which I took in the operations of the manwith the rake; an interest this in which all present, less or more, participated. 

For a long while this search also was fruitless. More than half the areahad been gone over, and there was yet no appearance of my lost treasure. 

At length, however--oh! how shall I describe the joy I felt?--a sweep ofthe rake threw the well-known pocket-book on the surface of the sawdust. I darted on it, clutched it, tore it open, and saw the bank-notesapparently untouched. I counted them. They were all there. 

"I thought so; I thought we should find it, " said, with a calm smile, the gentleman who had been so instrumental in its recovery. 

The whole proceedings of the thief or thieves, so promptly and correctlyconjectured by my friend, were now obvious. Finding that passing it fromhand to hand would not avail them, he who was last in possession of ithad, on the search commencing, dropt it on the ground, and shuffled itunder the sawdust with his foot. 

The police now requested my friend to point out the person who hadcommitted the robbery, that they might apprehend him; but this hedeclined, saying that he was not quite sure of the man, and that hewould not like to run the risk of blaming an innocent person; adding, with the quiet smile that seemed to be natural to him, that as the moneywas recovered, it might be as well to let the matter drop. The policefor some time insisted on my friend pointing out the man; but as hecontinued firmly to decline interfering further in the matter, they gaveit up and left the place. 

Every one saw that it was benevolence, however impoperly exerted, thatinduced my friend to refuse giving up the culprit; and as I had nowrecovered my money, I felt pretty much in the same disposition--thatwas, to allow him to fall into other hands. 

I now presented the man who had been employed to rake the area with fiveshillings, for his trouble. But how or in what way was I to reward thefriendly person to whom I was wholly indebted for the recovery of mypocket-book? This puzzled me sadly. Money, at least any such sum as Icould spare, I could not offer one who, notwithstanding the littledeficiencies in his apparel formerly noticed, had so much the appearanceand manner of a gentleman. I was greatly at a loss. In the meantime, myfriend and I left the exhibition together; he lecturing me the while, although in the most kindly manner, on the danger of going into crowdedplaces with large sums of money about one's person. 

He said he had seen a good deal of the world, had resided long inLondon, and knew all the tricks of the swell mob. 

"It was my knowledge and experience of these gentry, " he added, "thatenabled me to manage your little matter so successfully. " We were atthis time passing along Stockwell Street, when, observing arespectable-looking tavern, it struck me that I might, without offence, ask my friend to take a little refreshment, --a glass of wine or so. 

With some hesitation, I proposed it. 

He smiled; and as if rather complying with my humour, or as if unwillingto offend me by a refusal, said, "Well, my young friend, I have noobjection, although I am not greatly in the habit of going to taverns. Not there, however, " he added, seeing me moving towards the house onwhich I had fixed my eye. "There is a house in the Saltmarket, which, onthe rare occasions I do go to a tavern, and that is chiefly for a sightof the papers, I always frequent. They are decent, respectable people. So we'll go there, if you please; that is, if it be quite the same toyou. "

I said it was, and that I would cheerfully accompany him wherever hechose. 

This point settled, we proceeded to the Saltmarket; when my friend, who, by the way, had now told me that his name was Lancaster, conducted me upa dark, dirty-looking close, and finally into a house of anything butrespectable appearance. The furniture was scanty, and what was of itmuch dilapidated: half the backs of half the chairs were broken off, thetables were dirty and covered with stains and the circular marks ofdrinking measures. A tattered sofa stood at one end of the apartment, the walls were hung with paltry prints, and the small, old-fashioned, dirty windows hung with dirtier curtains. 

To crown all, we met, as we entered, a huge, blowzy, tawdrily dressedwoman, of most forbidding appearance, who, I was led to understand, wasthe mistress of the house. Between this person and Mr. Lancaster Ithought I perceived a rapid secret signal pass as we came in, but wasnot sure. 

All this--namely, the appearance of the house and its mistress, theshabbiness of the entrance to the former, the secret signal, etc. Etc. --surprised me a little; but I suspected nothing wrong--never dreamtof it. 

On our taking our seats in the apartment into which we had been shown, Iasked my good genius, Mr. Lancaster, what he would choose to drink. 

He at once replied that he drank nothing but wine; spirits and maltliquors, he said, always did him great injury. 

But too happy to be able to contribute in any way to the gratificationof one who had rendered me so essential a service, I immediately ordereda bottle of the best port, he having expressed a preference for thatdescription of wine. 

It was brought; when Mr. Lancaster, kindly assuming the character ofhost, quickly filled our glasses, when we pledged each other and drank. 

Wine, at that time, was no favourite liquor of mine, so that I soonbegan to show some reluctance to swallowing it. 

Mr. Lancaster, perceiving this, began to banter me on my abstemiousness, and to urge me to do more justice to the wine, which he said wasexcellent. 

Prevailed on partly by his urgency, and partly by a fear of displeasinghim by further resistance, I now took out my glass as often as he filledit. 

The consequence was, that I soon felt greatly excited; and eventually somuch so, that I not only readily swallowed bumper after bumper, but, when our bottle was done, insisted on another being brought in;forgetting everything but my debt of gratitude to Mr. Lancaster, andlosing sight, for the moment at any rate, of all my obligations, in thedelight with which I listened to his entertaining conversation. Foranother half hour we went on merrily, and the second bottle of wine wasnearly finished, when I suddenly felt a strange sinking sensation comeover me. The countenance of Mr. Lancaster, who sat opposite me, seemedto disappear, as did also all the objects with which I was surrounded. 

From that moment I became unconscious of all that passed. I sank down onthe floor in the heavy sleep, or rather in the utter insensibility, ofexcessive intoxication. 

On awaking, which was not until a late hour of the night, I found thescene changed. The room was dark, the bottles and glasses removed, andmy friend Mr. Lancaster gone. 

It was some seconds before I felt myself struck by this contrast; thatis, before I fully recollected the circumstances which had preceded myunconsciousness. These, however, gradually unfolded themselves, untilthe whole stood distinctly before me. After having sat up for a secondor two--for I found myself still on the floor when I awoke, having beenleft to lie where I fell--and having recalled all the circumstances ofthe day's occurrences, I instinctively clapped my hand to the breast ofmy jacket to feel for my pocket-book. It was again gone. Thinking atfirst that it might have dropt out while I slept, I began groping aboutthe floor; but there was no pocket-book there. In great alarm I nowstarted to my feet, and began calling on the house. My calls wereanswered by the landlady herself, who, with a candle in her hand, and afierce expression of face, flushed apparently with drink, entered theapartment, and sternly demanded what I wanted, and what I meant bymaking such a noise in her house. 

Taking no notice of the uncourteous manner in which she had addressedme, I civilly asked her what had become of Mr. Lancaster. 

"Who's Mr. Lancaster?" she said fiercely. "I know no Mr. Lancaster. "

"The gentleman, " I replied, "who came in here with me, and who drankwine with me. "

"I know nothing about him, " said the virago; "I never saw him before. "

"That's strange, " said I; "he told me that he was in the habit offrequenting this house. "

"If he did so, he told you a lie, " replied the lady; "and I tell youagain, that I know nothing about him, and that I never saw him before, nor ever expect to see him again. "

I now informed her that I missed a pocket-book containing a considerablesum of money, and, simply enough, asked her if she had it, or knewanything about it. 

At this, her rage, which before she seemed to have great difficulty incontrolling, burst out in the wildest fury. 

"I know nothing about your pocket-book, " she exclaimed, stampingpassionately on the floor; "nor do I believe you had one. It's all afetch to bilk me out of my reckoning; but I'll take care of you, youswindler! I'm not to be done that way. Come, down with the price of thetwo bottles of wine you and your pal drank--fifteen shillings--or I'llhave the worth of them out of your skin. " And she flourished thecandlestick in such a way as led me to expect every instant that itwould descend on my skull. 

Terrified by the ferocious manner and threatening attitude of thetermagant, and beginning to feel that the getting safe out of the houseought to be considered as a most desirable object, I told her, in themost conciliatory manner I could assume, that I had not a farthingbeyond two or three shillings, which she was welcome to; all my moneyhaving been in the pocket-book which I had lost--I dared not say ofwhich I had been robbed. 

"Let's see what you have, then, " she said, extending her hand to receivethe loose silver I had spoken of. I gave it to her. 

"Now, " she said, "troop, troop with you; walk off, walk off, " motioningme towards the outer door, "and be thankful you have got off so cheaply, after swindling me out of my reckoning, and trying to injure thecharacter of my house. "

But too happy at the escape permitted me, I hurried out of the house, next down the stair--a pretty long one--at a couple of steps, and rushedinto the street. 

I will not here detain the reader with any attempt at describing myfeelings on this occasion: he will readily conceive them, on taking intoaccount all the circumstances connected with my unhappy position. Mymoney gone now, there was no doubt, irretrievably; the market over, nohorse bought, the hour late, and I an entire stranger in the city, without a penny in my pocket; my senses confused, and a mortal sicknessoppressing me, from the quantity of wine I had drunk, and which, I beganto suspect, had been drugged. 

Little as I was then conversant with the ways of the town, I knew therewas but one quarter where I could apply or hope for any assistance inthe recovery of my property. This was the police office. 

Thither I accordingly ran, inquiring my way as I went--for I knew notwhere it was--with wild distraction in my every look and movement. 

On reaching the office, I rushed breathlessly into it, and begantelling my story as promptly and connectedly as my exhaustion andagitation would permit. My tale was patiently listened to by the two orthree men whom I found on duty in the office. When I had done, theysmiled and shook their heads; expressions which I considered as no goodaugury of the recovery of my pocket-book. 

One of the men--a sergeant apparently--now put some minute queries to meregarding the personal appearance of my friend Mr. Lancaster. I gave himthe best description of that gentleman I could; but neither the sergeantnor any of the others seemed to recognise him. They had no doubt, however, they said, that he was a professed swindler, and in allprobability one of late importation into the city; that there was littlequestion that he was the person who had robbed me; adding, what wasindeed obvious enough, that he had assisted in the recovery of mypocket-book from the first set of thieves who assailed me, that he mightsecure it for himself. 

The house in the Saltmarket, which I also described as well as I could, they knew at once, saying it was one of the most infamous dens in thecity. The men now promised that they would use every exertion in theirpower to recover my money, but gave me to understand that there waslittle or no hope of success. The event justified their anticipations. They could discover no trace of Lancaster; and as to the house in theSaltmarket, there was not the slightest evidence of any connectionwhatever between its mistress, or any other of its inmates, and eitherthe robber or the robbery. The police indeed searched the house; but ofcourse to no purpose. 

Being, as I have already said, penniless, and thus without the means ofgoing anywhere else, I remained in the police office all night; and, inthe hope every hour of hearing something of my pocket-book, hung aboutit all next day till towards the evening, when the sergeant, of whom Ihave before spoken, came up to me as I was sauntering about the gate, and told me that it was useless my hanging on any longer about theoffice; that all would be done in my case that could be done; but that, in the meantime, I had better go home, leaving my address; and that ifanything occurred, I would instantly be informed of it. "But I think itbut right to tell you, young man, " he added, "that there is scarcely anychance whatever of your ever recovering a sixpence of your money. Imention this to prevent you indulging in any false hopes. It is best youshould know the worst at once. "

Satisfied that the man spoke truly, and that it was indeed useless myhanging on any longer, I gave him my name and address, and went away, although it was with a heavy heart, and without knowing whither I shouldgo; for to my father's house I could not think of returning, after whathad happened. I would not have faced him for the world. In this matter, indeed, I did my father a great injustice; for although a little severein temper, he was a just and reasonable man, and would most certainlyhave made all allowances for what had occurred to me. 

The determination--for it now amounted to that--to which I had come, notto return home, was one, therefore, not warranted by any good reason; itwas wholly the result of one of those mad impulses which so frequentlylead youthful inexperience into error. 

On leaving the vicinity of the police office, I sauntered towards theHigh Street without knowing or caring whither I went. Having reached thestreet just named, I proceeded downwards, still heedless of my way, until I found myself in the Saltmarket, the scene of my late disaster. 

Curiosity, or perhaps some vague, absurd idea of seeing something orother, I could not tell what, that might lead to the recovery of mypocket-book, induced me to look about me to see if I could discover thetavern in which I had been robbed. I was thus employed--that is, gapingand staring at the windows of the lower flats of the houses on eitherside of the street, for I did not recollect on which was the house Iwanted--when a smart little man, dressed in a blue surtout, with a blackstock about his neck, and carrying a cane in his hand, made up to mewith a--

"Looking for any particular place, my lad?"

Taken unawares, and not choosing to enter into any explanations with astranger, I simply answered, "No, no. "

"Because if you were, " continued my new acquaintance, "I should havebeen glad to have helped you. But I say, my lad--excuse me, " he went on, now looking earnestly in my face, and perceiving by my eyes that I hadbeen weeping, which was indeed the case--"you seem to be distressed. What has happened you? I don't ask from any impertinent curiosity, butfrom sympathy, seeing you are a stranger. "

Words of kindness in the hour of distress, by whomsoever offered, atonce find their way to the heart, and open up the sluices of its pent-upfeelings. The friendly address of the stranger had this effect on me inthe present instance. I told him at once what had occurred to me. 

"Bad business, my lad; bad business indeed, " he said. "But don't be castdown. Fair weather comes after foul. You'll soon make all up again. "

This was commonplace enough comfort; but without minding the words, theintention was good, and with that I was gratified. 

My new friend, who had learnt from what I told him that I was penniless, now proposed that I should take share of a bottle of ale with him. Certain recollections of another friend, namely, Mr. Lancaster, made mehesitate, indeed positively decline, this invitation at first; but on mynew acquaintance pressing his kindness, and the melancholy truthoccurring to me that I had now no pocket-book to lose, I yielded, andaccompanied him to a tavern at the foot of the High Street. I may addthat I was the more easily induced to this, that I was in a dreadfulstate of exhaustion, having tasted nothing in the shape of either foodor drink for nearly thirty hours. 

Having entered the tavern, a bottle of ale and a plate of biscuitquickly stood before us. My entertainer filled up the glasses; when, having presented me with one, he raised his own to his lips, wished me"better luck, " and tossed it off. I quickly followed his example, andnever before or since drank anything with so keen a relish. After we haddrunk a second glass each--

"Well, my lad, " said my new acquaintance, "what do you propose doing? Doyou intend returning to the plough-tail, eh? I should hardly thinkyou'll venture home again after such a cursed mishap. "

I at once acknowledged that I did not intend returning home again; butas to what I should do, I did not know. 

"Why, now, " replied my entertainer, "I think a stout, good-looking, likely young fellow as you are need be at no loss. There's the army. Didyou ever think of that, eh? The only thing for a lad of spirit. Smartclothes, good living, and free quarters, with a chance of promotion. The chance, said I? Why, I might say the certainty. Bounty too, youyoung dog! A handful of golden guineas, and pretty girls to court inevery town. List, man, list, " he shouted, clapping me on the shoulder, "and your fortune's made!"

List! It had never occurred to me before. I had never thought, neverdreamt of it. But now that the idea was presented to me, I by no meansdisliked it. It was not, however, the flummery of my new acquaintance, who, I need hardly say, was neither more nor less than a sergeant incoloured clothes, assumed, I suppose, for the purpose of taking youngfellows like myself unawares, --I say it was not his balderdash, which, young and raw as I was, I fully perceived, that reconciled me to thenotion of listing. It was because I saw in it a prompt and ready meansof escaping the immediate destitution with which I was threatened, myfoolish determination not to return home having rather gained strengththan weakened, notwithstanding a painful sense of the misery which myprotracted absence must have been occasioning at home. To the sergeant'sproposal of listing, therefore, I at once assented; when the formercalling in the landlord, tendered me in his presence the expressiveshilling. 

The corps into which I had listed was the----, then lying in the Tower, London, there being only the sergeant and two or three men of theregiment in Glasgow recruiting. The matter of listing settled, thesergeant bespoke me a bed for the night in the tavern in which we were, that being his own quarters. 

On the following day I was informed, much to my surprise, although by nomeans to my regret, that a detachment of recruits for the---- were to besent off that evening at nine o'clock by the track boat for Edinburgh, and from thence by sea to the headquarters of the regiment at London, and that I was to be of the number. At nine o'clock of the evening, accordingly, we were shipped at Port-Dundas. 

Before leaving Glasgow, however, I made one last call at the policeoffice to inquire whether any discoveries had been made regarding mypocket-book, but found that nothing whatever had been heard of it. 

On the following day we reached Edinburgh; on the next we were embarkedon board a Leith smack for London, where we arrived in safety on thefourth day thereafter, and were marched to the Tower, which was at thetime the headquarters of the regiment. Amongst the young men who were ofthe party who came up with me from Scotland, there was one with whom Ibecame particularly intimate, and who was subsequently my comrade. Hisname was John Lindsay, a native of Glasgow. He was about my own age, orperhaps a year older--a lively, active, warm-hearted lad, but of arestless, roving disposition. 

It was, I think, about a fortnight after our arrival in London, thatLindsay one day, while rummaging a small trunk in the barrack-room, which had formed the entire of his travelling equipage from Scotland, stumbled on a letter, with whose delivery he had been entrusted by someone in Glasgow, but which he had entirely forgotten. It was addressed ina scrawling hand--"To Susan Blaikie, servant with Henry Wallscourt, Esq. , 19, Grosvenor Square, London. "

"Here's a job, Davy, " said Lindsay, holding up the letter. "I promisedfaithfully to deliver this within an hour after my arrival in London, and here it is still. But better late than never. Will you go with meand see the fair maiden to whom this is addressed? It contains, Ibelieve, a kind of introduction to her, and may perhaps lead to somesport. "

I readily closed with Lindsay's proposal, and in ten minutes after weset out for Grosvenor Square, which we had no difficulty in finding. Neither were we long in discovering No. 19, the residence of HenryWallscourt, Esq. It was a magnificent house, everything about itbespeaking a wealthy occupant. 

Leaving me on the flagstones, Lindsay now descended into the area; butin two or three minutes returned, and motioned me with his finger tocome to him. 

I did so, when he told me that he had seen Susan Blaikie, and that shehad invited us to come in. Into the house we accordingly went, and wereconducted by Susan, a lively, pretty girl, who welcomed us with greatcordiality, into what appeared to be a housekeeper's room. 

My comrade, Lindsay, having given Susan all the Scotch, particularlyGlasgow, news in his budget, the latter left the room for a few minutes, when she returned with a tray of cold provisions--ham, fowl, and roastbeef. 

Placing these before us, and adding a bottle of excellent porter, sheinvited us to fall-to. We did so, and executed summary justice on thegood things placed before us. 

After this we sat for about half an hour, when we rose to depart. This, however, she would not permit till we had promised that we would come, on the following night, and take tea with her and one or two of herfellow-servants. This promise we readily gave, and as willingly kept. One of the party, on the night of the tea-drinking, was the footman ofthe establishment, Richard Digby--a rakish, dissipated-looking fellow, with an affected air, and an excessively refined and genteel manner, that is, as he himself thought it. To others, at least to me, heappeared an egregious puppy; the obvious spuriousness of his assumedgentility inspiring a disgust which I found it difficult to suppress. Neither could I suppress it so effectually as to prevent the fellowdiscovering it. He did so; and the consequence was the rise of a heartyand mutual dislike, which, however, neither of us evinced by any overtact. 

Having found the society of our fair countrywoman and her friends veryagreeable, we--that is, Lindsay and myself--became frequent visitors;drinking tea with her and her fellow-servants at least two or threetimes a week. While this was going on, a detachment of the new recruits, of whom Lindsay was one, was suddenly ordered to Chatham. I missed mycomrade much after his departure; but as I had by this time establishedan intimacy with Susan and her fellow-servants on my own account, Istill continued visiting there, and drinking tea occasionally asformerly. 

It was on one of these occasions, and about ten days after Lindsay hadleft London, that as I was leaving Mr. Wallscourt's house at a prettylate hour--I think about eleven at night--I was suddenly collared by twomen, just as I had ascended the area stair, and was about to step out onthe pavement. 

"What's this for?" said I, turning first to the one and then to theother of my captors. 

"We'll tell you that presently, " replied one of the men, who had by thistime begun to grope about my person, as if searching for something. In amoment after--"Ah! let's see what's this, " he said, plunging his handinto one of my coat-pockets, and pulling out a silver table-spoon. "Allright, " he added. "Come away, my lad;" and the two forthwith begandragging me along. 

The whole affair was such a mystery to me, and of such suddenoccurrence, that it was some seconds before I could collect myselfsufficiently to put any such calm and rational queries to my captors asmight elicit an explanation of it. All that I could say was merely torepeat my inquiry as to the meaning of the treatment I wasundergoing--resisting instinctively, the while, the efforts of the mento urge me forward. This last, however, was vain; for they were twopowerful fellows, and seemed scarcely to feel the resistance I made. Tomy reiterated demand of explanation they merely replied that I shouldhave it presently, but that they rather thought I did not stand greatlyin need of it. 

Obliged to rest satisfied, in the meantime, with such evasive answers, and finding resistance useless, indeed uncalled for, as I wasunconscious of any crime, I now went peaceably along with the men. Whither they were conducting me the reader will readily guess; it was toBow Street. 

On being brought into the office, the men conducted me up to a personwho, seated at a desk, was busily employed making entries in a largebook. One of my captors having whispered something into this person'sear, he turned sharply round and demanded my name. I gave it him. 

"The others?" he said. 

"What others?" I replied. "I have only one name, and I have given it. "

"Pho, pho!" exclaimed he. "Gentlemen of your profession have always adozen. However, we'll take what you have given in the meantime. " And heproceeded to make some entries in his book. They related to me, but Iwas not permitted to see what they were. The table-spoon which had beenfound in my pocket, and which had been placed on the desk before theofficial already spoken of, was now labelled and put past, and I wasordered to be removed. 

During all this time I had been loudly protesting my innocence of anycrime; but no attention whatever was paid to me. So little effect, indeed, had my protestations, that one would have thought, judging bythe unmoved countenances around me, that they did not hear me at all, for they went on speaking to each other, quite in the same way as if Ihad not been present. The only indication I could perceive of aconsciousness of my being there, and of their hearing what I said, wasan occasional faint smile of incredulity. At one time, provoked by myimportunity and my obstinate iteration of my innocence, the official whowas seated at the desk turned fiercely round, exclaiming--

"The spoon, the spoon, friend; what do you say to that--found in yourpocket, eh?"

I solemnly protested that I knew not how it came there; that I had neverput it there, nor had the least idea of its being in my possession tillit was produced by those that searched me. 

"A very likely story, " said the official, turning quietly round to hisbook; "but we'll see all about that by-and-by. Remove him, men. "

And I was hurried away, and locked up in a cell for the night. 

I cannot say that, when left to myself, I felt much uneasiness regardingthe result of the extraordinary matter that had occurred. I feltperfectly satisfied that, however awkward and unpleasant my situationwas in the meantime, the following day would clear all up, and set me atliberty with an unblemished character. From all that had taken place, Icollected that I was apprehended on a charge of robbery; that is, ofabstracting property from Mr. Wallscourt's house, of which the silverspoon found in my possession was considered a proof. There was much, however, in the matter of painful and inexplicable mystery. How camethe constables to be so opportunely in the way when I left the house?and, more extraordinary still, how came the silver spoon into mypossession? Regarding neither of these circumstances could I form theslightest plausible conjecture; but had no doubt that, whether theyshould ever be explained or not, my entire innocence of all such guiltas the latter of them pointed at, would clearly appear. But, as thesaying has it, "I reckoned without my host. " On the following morning Iwas brought before the sitting magistrate, and, to my inexpressiblesurprise, on turning round a little, saw Richard Digby in thewitness-box. Thinking at first that he was there to give some suchevidence as would relieve me from the imputation under which I lay, Inodded to him; but he took no further notice of the recognition than bylooking more stern than before. 

Presently my case was entered on. Digby was called on to state what hehad to say to the matter. Judge of my consternation, gentle reader, whenI heard him commence the following statement:--

Having premised that he was servant with Mr. Wallscourt, of No. 19, Grosvenor Square, he proceeded to say that during the space of the threeprevious weeks he had from time to time missed several valuable piecesof plate belonging to his master; that this had happened repeatedlybefore he could form the slightest conjecture as to who the thief couldpossibly be. At last it occurred to him that the abstraction of theplate corresponded, in point of time, with the prisoner's (my)introduction to the house--in other words, that it was from that datethe robberies commenced, nothing of the kind having ever happenedbefore; that this circumstance led him to suspect me; that inconsequence he had on the previous night placed a silver table-spoon insuch a situation in the servants' hall as should render it likely to beseen by the prisoner when he came to tea, Susan Blaikie havingpreviously informed him that he was coming; that, shortly after theprisoner's arrival, he contrived, by getting Susan and some of the otherservants out of the room, on various pretexts, to have the prisoner leftalone for several minutes; that, on his return, finding the spoon gone, he had no longer any doubt of the prisoner's guilt; that, on feelingsatisfied of this, he immediately proceeded to the neareststation-house, and procuring two constables, or policemen, stationedthem at the area gate, with instructions to seize the prisoner themoment he came out; and that if the spoon was found on him--of which hehad no doubt--to carry him away to Bow Street. 

Such, then, was Mr. Digby's statement of the affair; and a veryplausible and connected one, it must be allowed, it was. It carriedconviction to all present, and elicited from the presiding magistrate ahigh encomium on that person's fidelity, ability, and promptitude. 

The silver spoon, labelled as I had seen it, was now produced, when Mr. Wallscourt, who was also present, was called on to identify it. This heat once did, after glancing at the crest and initials which wereengraven on the handle. The charge against me thus laid andsubstantiated, I was asked if I had anything to say in my own defence. 

Defence! what defence could I make against an accusation so stronglyput, and so amply supported by circumstances? None. I could meet it onlyby denial, and by assertions of innocence. This, however, I did, andwith such energy and earnestness--for horror and despair inspired mewith both courage and eloquence--that a favourable impression wasperceptible in the court. The circumstantial statement of Digby, however, with all its strong probabilities, was not to be overturned bymy bare assertions; and the result was, that I was remanded to prison tostand trial at the ensuing assizes, Mr. Wallscourt being bound over toprosecute. 

Wretched, however, as my situation was, I had not been many hours inprison when I regained my composure; soothed by the reflection that, however disgraceful or unhappy my position might be, it was one in whichI had not deserved being placed. I was further supported by theconviction, which even the result of my late examination before themagistrate had not in the least weakened, that my innocence would yetappear, and that in sufficient time to save me from further legalprosecution. Buoyed up by these reflections, I became, if not cheerful, at least comparatively easy in my mind. I thought several times duringmy imprisonment of writing to my father, --to whom, by the way, as Ishould have mentioned before, I wrote from Edinburgh, when on my way toLondon, in order to relieve the minds of my mother and himself from anyapprehensions of anything more serious having happened me, telling themof my loss, and the way it had occurred, but without telling them that Ihad listed, or where I was going, --I say I thought several times duringmy confinement of writing to my father, and informing him of the unhappycircumstances in which I was placed; but, on reflection, it occurred tome that such a proceeding would only give him and the rest of the familyneedless pain, seeing that he could be of no service to me whatever. Itherefore dropped the idea, thinking it better that they should knownothing about the matter--nothing, at least, until my trial was over, and my innocence established; concomitant events, as I had no doubt theywould prove. In the meantime the day of trial approached. It came, andI stood naked and defenceless; for I had no money to employ counsel, nofriends to assist me with advice. I stood at the bar of the Old Baileyshielded only by my innocence; a poor protection against evidence sostrong and circumstantial as that which pointed to my guilt. 

My trial came on. It was of short duration. Its result, what every onewho knew anything of the matter foresaw but myself. I was found guilty, and sentenced to fourteen years' transportation. 

As on a former occasion, I will leave it to the reader himself to form aconception of what my feelings were when this dreadful sentence rung inmy ears--so horrible, so unexpected. A sudden deafness struck me that, commingling all sounds, rendered them unintelligible; a film came overmy eyes; my heart fluttered strangely, and my limbs trembled so that Ithought I should have sunk on the floor; but, making a violent effort, Isupported myself; and in a few seconds these agitating sensations so farsubsided as to allow of my retiring from the bar with tolerablesteadiness and composure. 

It was several days, however, before I regained entire possession ofmyself, and before I could contemplate my position in all its bearingswith anything like fortitude or resignation. On attaining this state, athousand wild schemes for obtaining such a reconsideration of my case asmight lead to the discovery of my innocence presented themselves to mymind. I thought of addressing a letter to the judge who had tried me; tothe foreman of the jury who had found me guilty; to the prosecutor, Mr. Wallscourt; to the Secretary of State; to the King. A little subsequentreflection, however, showed me the utter hopelessness of any suchproceeding, as I had still only my simple, unsupported assertions tooppose to the strong array of positive and circumstantial evidenceagainst me; that, therefore, no such applications as I contemplatedcould be listened to for a moment. Eventually satisfied of this, I cameto the resolution of submitting quietly to my fate in the meantime, trusting that some circumstance or other would, sooner or later, occurthat would lead to a discovery of the injustice that had been done me. 

Writing to my father I considered now out of the question. The samereasons that induced me to abstain from writing him before my trial, presented themselves in additional force to prevent me writing himafter. I resolved that he should never know of the misfortune, howeverundeserved, that had befallen me. I had all along--that is, since myconfinement--looked for some letter or other communication from Lindsay. Sometimes I even hoped for a visit from him. But I was disappointed. Ineither saw nor heard anything of him; and from this circumstanceconcluded that he, too, thought me guilty, and that this was the causeof his desertion of me. Friendless and despised, I at once abandonedmyself to fate. 

Of poor Susan Blaikie, however, I did hear something; and that was, thatshe was discharged from her situation. This intelligence distressed memuch, although I had foreseen that it must necessarily happen. 

In the apartment or cell into which I was placed after having receivedsentence, there were five or six young men in similar circumstances withmyself--not as regarded innocence of crime, but punishment. They wereall under sentence of banishment for various terms. 

From these persons I kept as much aloof as possible. My soul sickened atthe contamination to which I was exposed by the society of suchruffians, for they were all of the very worst description of Londoncharacters, and I did all I could to maintain the distinction betweenmyself and them, which my innocence of all crime gave me a right toobserve. 

Under this feeling, it was my habit to sit in a remote part of the cell, and to take no share whatever either in the conversation or in thecoarse practical jokes with which they were in the habit of beguilingthe tedium of their confinement. 

There was one occasion, however, on which I felt myself suddenly caughtby an interest in their proceedings. 

Seeing them one day all huddled together, listening with great delightto one of their number who was reading a letter aloud, I graduallyapproached nearer, curious to know what could be in this letter toafford them so much amusement. 

Conceive my astonishment and surprise when, after listening for a fewminutes, I discovered that the subject which tickled my fellow-prisonersso highly was a description of my own robbery; that is, of the robberyin Glasgow of which I had been the victim. 

It was written with considerable humour, and contained such a minute andfaithful account of the affair, that I had no doubt it had been writtenby Lancaster. Indeed it could have been written by no one else. 

The letter in question, then, was evidently one from that person to acompanion in crime who was amongst those with whom I was associated--nodoubt he who was reading it. The writer, however, seemed also well knownto all the other parties. 

In the letter itself, as well as in the remarks of the audience on it, there was a great deal of slang, and a great many cant phrases which Icould not make out. But, on the whole, I obtained a pretty correctknowledge of the import of both. 

The writer's description of me and of my worldly wisdom was not veryflattering. He spoke of me as a regular flat, and the fleecing me as oneof the easiest and pleasantest operations he had ever performed. Heconcluded by saying that as he found there was nothing worth while to bedone in Scotland, he intended returning to London in a few days. 

"More fool he, " said one of the party, on this passage being read. "Thataffair at Blackwall, in which Bob was concerned, has not yet blown over, and he'll be lagged, as sure as he lives, before he's a week in London. "

"Well, so much the better, " said another. "In that case we'll have himacross the water with us, and be all the merrier for his company. "

It was, I think, somewhat less than a month after this--for we weredetained in prison altogether about two-months after sentence till asufficient number had accumulated for transportation--that we, meaningmyself and those in the ward in which I was confined, were favoured witha new companion. 

Throwing open the door of our ward one afternoon, the turnkey ushered inamongst us a person dressed out in the first style of fashion, andimmediately again secured the door. At first I could not believe that sofine a gentleman could possibly be a convict; I thought rather that hemust be a friend of some one of my fellow-prisoners. But I was quicklyundeceived in this particular, and found that he was indeed one of _us_. 

On the entrance of this convict dandy, the whole of my fellow-prisonersrushed towards him, and gave him a cordial greeting. 

"Glad to see you, Nick, " said the fellow who had foretold the speedyapprehension of the letter-writer, as already related. "Cursed fool tocome to London so soon. Knew you would be nabbed. What have you got?"

"Fourteen, " replied the new-comer, with a shrug of his shoulders. 

During all this time I had kept my eyes fixed on the stranger, whom Ithought I should know. For a while, however, I was greatly puzzled tofix on any individual as identical with him; but at length it struck methat he bore a wonderful resemblance to my Glasgow friend Lancaster. 

His appearance was now, indeed, greatly changed. He was, for one thing, splendidly attired, as I have already said, while at the time I had thepleasure of knowing him first he was very indifferently dressed. Hisface, too, had undergone some alterations. He had removed a bushy pairof whiskers which he sported in Glasgow, and had added to hisadventitious characteristics a pair of green spectacles. It was theselast that perplexed me most, in endeavouring to make out his identity. But he soon laid them aside, as being now of no further use--anoperation which he accompanied by sundry jokes on their utility, and theservice they had done him in the way of preventing inconvenientrecognitions. Notwithstanding all these changes, however, in thenew-comer's appearance, I soon became quite convinced that he was noother than Lancaster; and, under this impression, I took an opportunityof edging towards him, and putting the question plumply to him, althoughunder breath, for I did not care that the rest should hear it. 

"Your name, sir, is Lancaster, I think?" said I. 

He stared in my face for a second or two without making any reply, orseeming to recognise me. At length--

"No, youngster, it isn't, " he said with the most perfect assurance. 

"But you have taken that name on an occasion?" said I. 

"Oh, perhaps I may, " he replied coolly. "I have taken a great many namesin my day. I'll give you a hundred of them at a penny a dozen. But, Lancaster, let me see, " and he kept looking hard at me as he spoke. "Why, it can't be, " he added, with a sudden start. "Impossible! eh?" andhe looked still more earnestly at me. "Are you from Glasgow, young un?"

I said I was. 

"Did you ever see me there?"

I shook my head, and said, to my cost I had. 

How my friend Mr. Lancaster received this intimation of our formeracquaintance I must reserve for another number, as I must also do thesequel of my adventures; for I have yet brought the reader but halfthrough the history of my chequered life. 

THE CONVICT;

BEING THE SEQUEL TO "DAVID LORIMER. "

The reader will recollect that when he and I parted, at the conclusionof the last number, I had just intimated to Mr. Lancaster my convictionof our having had a previous acquaintance. Does the reader imagine thatthat gentleman was in any way discomposed at this recognition on mypart, or at the way in which it was signified? that he felt ashamed orabashed? The sequel will show whether he did or not. 

On my replying to his inquiry whether I had ever seen him in Glasgow, byshaking my head, and saying that I had to my cost, he burst into a loudlaugh, and, striking his thigh with as much exultation as if he had justmade one of the most amusing discoveries imaginable, exclaimed--

"All right. Here, my pals, " turning to the other prisoners. "Here's aqueer concern. Isn't this the very flat, Dick, " addressing one of theirnumber, "that I did so clean in Glasgow, and about whom I wrote you! Thefellow whom I met in the show. "

"No! Possible!" exclaimed several voices, whose owners now crowded aboutme with a delighted curiosity, and began bantering me in those slangterms in which they could best express their witticisms. 

I made no reply to either their insolences or their jokes; but, maintaining an obstinate silence, took an early opportunity ofwithdrawing to a remote part of the apartment. Nor did I--seeing howidle it would be to say a word more on the subject of the robbery whichhad been committed on me in Glasgow, as it would only subject me toridicule and abuse--ever afterwards open my lips to Lancaster on thematter: neither did he to me, and there the affair ended; for, in a fewdays after, he was removed, for what reason I know not, to another cell, and I never saw him again. 

Let me here retrograde for a moment. In alluding, in the precedingnumber, to the various wild ideas that occurred to me after mycondemnation, on the subject of obtaining a reconsideration of my case, I forgot to mention that of applying to the colonel of my regiment; but, on reflection, this seemed as absurd as the others, seeing that I hadbeen little more than three weeks in the corps, and could therefore layclaim to no character at the hands of any one belonging to it. I wasstill a stranger amongst them. Besides, I found, from no interferencewhatever having been made in my behalf, that I had been left entirely inthe hands of the civil law. Inquiries had no doubt been made into mycase by the commanding officer of my regiment, but with myself no directcommunication had taken place. My connection with the corps, therefore, I took it for granted, was understood to be completely severed, and thatI was left to undergo the punishment the sentence of the civil law hadawarded. 

To resume. In about a week after the occurrence of the incident withLancaster above described, I was removed to the hulks, where I remainedfor somewhat more than a month, when I was put on board a convict ship, about to sail for New South Wales, along with a number of otherconvicts, male and female; none of them, I hope, so undeserving theirfate as I was. 

All this time I had submitted patiently to my destiny, seeing it wasnow inevitable, and said nothing to any one of my innocence; for, in thefirst place, I found that every one of my companions in misfortune were, according to their own accounts, equally innocent, and, in the next, that nobody believed them. 

It was in the evening we were embarked on board the convict ship; withthe next tide we dropped down the river; and, ere the sun of thefollowing day had many hours risen, found ourselves fairly at sea. 

For upwards of three weeks we pursued our course prosperously, nothingin that time occurring of the smallest consequence; and as the wind hadbeen all along favourable, our progress was so great, that many of usbegan thinking of the termination of our voyage. These, however, wererather premature reflections, as we had yet as many months to be at seaas we had been weeks. 

It was about the end of the period just alluded to, that as I was onenight restlessly tossing on my hard straw mattress, unable to sleep, from having fallen into one of those painful and exciting trains ofthought that so frequently visit and so greatly add to the miseries ofthe unfortunate, my ear suddenly caught the sounds of whispering. Diverted from my reflections by the circumstance, I drew towards theedge of my sleeping berth, and thrusting my head a little way out--theplace being quite dark--endeavoured, by listening attentively, to makeout who the speakers were, and what was the subject of theirconversation. The former, after a little time, I discovered to be threeof my fellow-convicts--one of them a desperate fellow, of the name ofNorcot, a native of Middlesex, who had been transported for a highwayrobbery, and who had been eminently distinguished for superior dexterityand daring in his infamous profession. The latter, however--namely, thesubject of their conversation--I could not make out; not so much from adifficulty of overhearing what they said, as from the number of slangwords they employed. Their language was to me all but whollyunintelligible; for although my undesired association with them hadenabled me to pick up a few of their words, I could make nothing oftheir jargon when spoken colloquially. 

Unable, therefore--although suspecting something wrong--to arrive at anyconclusion regarding the purpose or object of this midnightconversation, I took no notice of it to any one, but determined onwatching narrowly the future proceedings of Norcot and his council. 

On the following night the whispering was again repeated. I againlistened, but with nearly as little success as before. From what I didmake out, however, I was led to imagine that some attempt on the shipwas contemplated; and in this idea I was confirmed, when Norcot, on thefollowing day, taking advantage of a time when none of the seamen orsoldiers, who formed our guard, were near, slapped me on the shoulderwith a--

"Well, my pal, how goes it?"

Surprised at this sudden familiarity on the part of a man from whom Ihad always most especially kept aloof, and who, I was aware, had markedmy shyness, as he had never before sought to exchange words with me, itwas some seconds before I could make him any answer. At length--

"If you mean as to my health, " said I, "I am very well. "

"Ay, ay; but I don't mean that, " replied Norcot. "How do you like yourquarters, my man? How do you like this sort of life, eh?"

"Considering all circumstances, it's well enough; as well as oughtreasonably to be expected, " said I, in a tone meant to discouragefarther conversation on the subject. But he was not to be so put off. 

"Ay, in the meantime, " said he; "but wait you till we get to New SouthWales; you'll see a difference then, my man, I'm thinking. You'll bekept working, from sunrise till sunset, up to the middle in mud andwater, with a chain about your neck. You'll be locked up in a dungeon atnight, fed upon mouldy biscuit, and, on the slightest fault, or withoutany fault at all, be flogged within an inch of your life with acat-o'-nine-tails. How will ye like that, eh?"

"_That_ I certainly should not like, " I replied. "But I hope you'reexaggerating a little. " I knew he was. 

"Not a bit of it, " said Norcot. "Come here, Knuckler;" and he motionedto a fellow-convict to come towards him. "I've been telling this youngcove here what he may expect when we reach our journey's end, but hewon't believe me. " Having repeated the description of convict life whichhe had just given me--

"Now, Knuckler, isn't that the truth?" he said. 

"True as gospel, " exclaimed Knuckler, with a hideous oath; adding--"Ay, and in some places they are still worse used. "

"You hear that?" said Norcot. "I wasn't going to bamboozle you with anynonsense, my lad. We're all in the same lag, you know, and must stick byone another. "

My soul revolted at this horrible association, but I took care toconceal my feelings. 

Norcot went on:--"Now, seeing what we have to expect when we get tot'other side of the water, wouldn't he be a fool who wouldn't try toescape it if he could, eh? Ay, although at the risk of his life?"

At this moment we were interrupted by a summons to the deck, it beingmy turn, with that of several others, to enjoy the luxury of inhalingthe fresh sea breeze above. Norcot had thus only time to add, as I lefthim--

"I'll speak to you another time, my cove. "

Having now no doubt that some mischief was hatching amongst theconvicts, and that the conversation that had just passed was intended atonce to sound my disposition and to incline me towards their projects, Ifelt greatly at a loss what to do. That I should not join in theirenterprise, of whatsoever nature it might be, I at once determined. ButI felt that this was not enough, and that I was bound to give notice ofwhat I had seen and heard to those in command of the vessel, and thatwithout loss of time, as there was no saying how wild or atrocious mightbe the scheme of these desperadoes, or how soon they might put it inexecution. 

Becoming every moment more impressed with the conviction that this wasmy duty, I separated myself as far as I could from my companions, and, watching an opportunity, said, in a low tone, to the mate of the vessel, whom a chance movement brought close to where I stood--

"Mischief going on. Could I have a moment's private speech of thecaptain?"

The man stared at me for an instant with a look of non-comprehension, asI thought; and, without saying a word, he then resumed the little pieceof duty he had been engaged in when I interrupted him, and immediatelyafter went away, still without speaking, and indeed without taking anyfurther notice of me. 

I now thought he had either not understood me, or was not disposed topay any attention to what I said. I was mistaken in my conjectures, andin one of them did injustice to his intelligence. 

A moment after he left me I saw the captain come out of the cabin, andlook hard at me for a second or two. I observed him then despatch thesteward towards me. On that person's approach--

"I say, my lad, " he exclaimed, so as to be heard by the rest of theconvicts on deck, "can you wipe glasses and clean knives, eh? or brushshoes, or anything of that kind?"

Not knowing his real purpose in thus addressing me, I said I had noexperience in that sort of employment, but would do the best I could. 

"Oh, if you be willing, " he said, "we'll soon make you able. I want ahand just now; so come aft with me, and I'll find you work, and show youhow to do it too. "

I followed him to the cabin; but I had not been there a minute when thecaptain came down, and, taking me into a state room, said--

"Well, my lad, what's all this? You wanted a private word of me, andhinted to the mate that you knew of some mischief going on amongst theconvicts. What is it?"

I told him of the secret whisperings at night I had overheard, and ofthe discourse Norcot had held with me; mentioning, besides, severalexpressions which I thought pointed to a secret conspiracy of some kindor other. 

The captain was of the same opinion, and after thanking me for myinformation, and telling me that he would take care that the part I hadacted should operate to my advantage on our arrival in the colony, hedesired me to take no notice of what had passed, but to mingle with myassociates as formerly, and to leave the whole matter to him. 

To cover appearances, I was subsequently detained in the steward's roomfor about a couple of hours, when I was sent back to my former quarters;not, however, without having been well entertained by the steward, bythe captain's orders. 

What intermediate steps the captain took I do not know, but on thatnight Norcot and other ten of the most desperate of the convicts werethrown into irons. 

Subsequent inquiry discovered a deep-laid plot to surprise the guard, seize their arms, murder the captain and crew and all who resisted, andtake possession of the ship. 

Whether such a desperate attempt would have been successful or not, isdoubtful; but there is no question that a frightful scene of bloodshedwould have taken place; nor that, if the ruffians had managed well, andjudiciously timed their attack, they had some chance, and probably not asmall one, of prevailing. 

As it was, however, the matter was knocked on the head; for not onlywere the leaders of the conspiracy heavily ironed, but they were placedin different parts of the ship, wholly apart, and thus could neither actnor hold the slightest communication with each other. 

Although the part I had acted in this affair did not operate in myfavour with the greater part of my fellow-convicts, --for, notwithstanding all our caution, a strong suspicion prevailed amongstthem that I was the informer, --it secured me the marked favour of allothers on board the ship, and procured me many little indulgences whichwould not otherwise have been permitted, and, generally, much mildertreatment than was extended to the others; and I confess I was notwithout an idea that I deserved it. 

On our arrival at Sydney, whither I now hurry the reader, nothingsubsequent to the incident just recorded having occurred in theinterval with which I need detain him, I was immediately assigned, withseveral others, to a farmer, a recently arrived emigrant, who occupied agrant of land of about a thousand acres in the neighbourhood of the townof Maitland. 

Before leaving the ship, the captain added to his other kindnesses anassurance that he would not fail to represent my case--meaning withreference to the service I had done him in giving information of theconspiracy amongst the convicts--to the governor, and that he had nodoubt of its having a favourable effect on my future fortunes, providedI seconded it by my own good conduct. 

The person to whom we had been assigned, an Englishman, being on thespot waiting us, we were forthwith clapped into a covered waggon, anddriven off to our destination, our new master following us on horseback. 

The work to which we were put on the farm was very laborious, consisting, for several weeks, in clearing the land of trees; felling, burning, and grubbing up the roots. But we were well fed, and, on thewhole, kindly treated in other respects; so that, although our toil wassevere, we had not much to complain of. 

In this situation I remained for a year and a half, and had thegratification of enjoying, during the greater part of that time, thefullest confidence of my employer, whose good opinion I early won by myorderly conduct, and--an unusual thing amongst convicts--by my attentionto his interests. 

On leaving him, he gave me, unasked, a testimonial of character, writtenin the strongest terms. 

I was now again returned on the hands of Government, to await the demandof some other settler for my services. 

In the meantime I had heard nothing of the result of the captain'srepresentation in my behalf to the governor, but had no doubt I wouldreap the benefit of it on the first occasion that I should have a favourto ask. The first thing in this way that I had to look for was what iscalled a ticket of leave; that is, a document conferring exemption for acertain period from Government labour, and allowing the party possessingit to employ himself in any lawful way he pleases, and for his ownadvantage, during the time specified by the ticket. My sentence, however, having been for fourteen years, I could not, in the ordinarycase, look for this indulgence till the expiration of six years, suchbeing the colonial regulations. 

But imagining the good service I had done in the convict ship wouldcount for something, and probably induce the governor to shorten my termof probation, I began now to think of applying for the indulgence. Thisidea I shortly after acted upon, and drew up a memorial to the personagejust alluded to; saying nothing, however, of my innocence of the crimefor which I had been transported, knowing that, as such an assertionwould not be believed, it would do much more harm than good. In thismemorial, however, I enclosed the letter of recommendation given me bymy last master. 

It was eight or ten days before I heard anything of my application. Atthe end of that time, however, I received a very gracious answer. Itsaid that my "praiseworthy conduct" on board the ship in which I came tothe colony had been duly reported by the captain, and that it would beremembered to my advantage; that, at the, expiry of my second year inthe colony, of which there were six months yet to run, a ticket of leavewould be granted me--thus abridging the period by four years; and that, if I continued to behave as well as I had done, I might expect theutmost indulgence that Government could extend to one in my situation. 

With this communication, although it did not immediately grant theprayer of my petition, I was much gratified, and prepared to submitcheerfully to the six months' compulsory labour which were yet beforeme. 

Shortly after this I was assigned to another settler, in theneighbourhood of Paramatta. This was a different sort of person from thelast I had served, and, I am sorry to say, a countryman. His name I neednot give; for although the doing so could no longer affect him, he beinglong dead, it might give pain to his relatives, several of whom arealive both here and in New South Wales. This man was a tyrant, if everthere was one, and possessed of all the passion and caprice of the worstdescription of those who delight in lording it over theirfellow-creatures. There was not a week that he had not some of myunhappy fellow-servants before a magistrate, often for the most trivialfaults--a word, a look--and had them flogged by sentence of the court, by the scourger of the district, till the blood streamed from theirbacks. Knowing how little consideration there is for the unhappy convictin all cases of difference with his taskmaster, and that however unjustor unreasonable the latter's complaints may be, they are always readilyentertained by the subordinate authorities, and carefully recordedagainst the former to his prejudice, I took care to give him no offence. To say nothing of his positive orders, I obeyed his every slightest wishwith a promptitude and alacrity that left him no shadow of ground tocomplain of me. It was a difficult task; but it being for my interestthat no complaint of me, just or unjust, should be put on recordagainst me, I bore all with what I must call exemplary patience andfortitude. 

I have already said that my new master was a man of the most tyrannicaldisposition--cruel, passionate, and vindictive. He was all this; and hismiserable fate--a fate which overtook him while I was in hisemployment--was, in a great measure, the result of his ungovernable andmerciless temper. 

Some of the wretched natives of the country--perhaps the most miserablebeings on the face of the earth, as they are certainly the lowest in thescale of intellect of all the savage tribes that wander on itssurface--used to come occasionally about our farm, in quest of a morselof food. Amongst these were frequently women with infants on theirbacks. If my master was out of the way when any of these poor creaturescame about the house, his wife, who was a good sort of woman, used torelieve them; and so did we, also, when we had anything in our power. Their treatment, however, was very different when our master happened tobe at home. The moment he saw any of these poor blacks approaching, heused to run into the house for his rifle, and on several occasions firedat and wounded the unoffending wretches. At other times he hounded hisdogs after them, himself pursuing and hallooing with as much excitementas if he had been engaged in the chase of some wild beasts instead ofhuman beings--beings as distinctly impressed as himself with the imageof his God. 

It is true that these poor creatures were mischievous sometimes, andthat they would readily steal any article to which they took a fancy. But in beings so utterly ignorant, and so destitute of all moralperceptions, such offences could hardly be considered as criminal; notone, at any rate, deserving of wounds and death at the caprice of afellow-creature acting on his own impulses, unchecked by any legal orjudicial control. Besides, it were easy to prevent the depredations ofthese poor creatures--easy to drive them off without having recourse toviolence. 

The humanity and forbearance, however, which such a mode of proceedingwith the aborigines would require was not to be found in my master. Fierce repulsion and retaliation were the only means he would haverecourse to in his mode of treating them; and the consequence was, hisinspiring the natives with a hatred of him, and a desire of vengeancefor his manifold cruelties towards them, which was sure, sooner orlater, to end in his destruction. It did so. One deed of surpassingcruelty which he perpetrated accomplished his fate. 

One day, seeing two or three natives, amongst whom was a woman with ayoung infant on her back, passing within a short distance of the house, not approaching it--for he was now so much dreaded by these poorcreatures that few came to the door--my master, as usual, ran in for hisrifle, and calling his dogs around him, gave chase to the party. 

The men being unencumbered, fled on seeing him, and being remarkablyswift of foot, were soon out of his reach. Not so the poor woman withthe child on her back: she could not escape; and at her the savageruffian fired, killing both her and the infant with the same murderousshot. 

This double murder was of so unprovoked, so cold-blooded, and atrociousa nature, that it is probable, little as the life of a native wasaccounted in those days, that my master would have been called upon toanswer for his crime before the tribunals of the colony; but retributionovertook him by another and a speedier course. 

On the following day my master came out of the house, about ten o'clockin the forenoon, with an axe in one hand, and the fatal rifle, hisconstant companion, with which he had perpetrated the atrocious deed onthe preceding day, in the other, and coming up to me, told me that hewas going to a certain spot in an adjoining wood to cut some timber forpaling, and that he desired I should come to him two hours after withone of the cars or sledges in use on the farm, to carry home the cutwood. Having said this, he went off, little dreaming of the fate thatawaited him. 

At the time appointed I went with a horse and sledge to the wood, butwas much surprised to find that my master was not at the spot where hesaid he would be;--a surprise which was not a little increased byperceiving, from two or three felled sticks that lay around, that he hadbeen there, but had done little--so little, that he could not have beenoccupied, as I calculated, for more than a quarter of an hour. Thinking, however, that wherever he had gone he would speedily return, I sat downto await him; but he came not. An entire hour elapsed, and still he didnot make his appearance. Beginning now to suspect that some accident hadhappened him, I hurried home to inquire if they had seen or heardanything of him there. They had not. His family became much alarmed forhis safety--a feeling in which my conscience forbids me to say that Iparticipated. 

Two of my fellow-servants now accompanied me back to the wood, which itwas proposed we should search. This, so soon as we had reached the spotwhere my master had appointed to meet me, and where, as alreadymentioned, he had evidently been, we began to do, whooping and hallooingat the same time to attract his attention should he be anywhere withinhearing. 

For a long while our searching and shouting were vain. At length one ofmy companions, who had entered a tangled patch of underwood which we hadnot before thought of looking, suddenly uttered a cry of horror. We ranup to him, and found him gazing on the dead body of our master, who layon his face, transfixed by a native spear, which still stood upright inhis back. It was one of those spears which the aborigines of New SouthWales use, on occasion, as missiles, and which they throw with anastonishing force and precision. 

Such, then, was the end of this cruel man; and that it exceeded hisdeserts can hardly be maintained. 

Luckily for me, my period of service with my late master was at thistime about out. A few days more, and I became entitled to my ticket ofleave. For this indulgence I applied when the time came, and it wasimmediately granted me for one year. On obtaining my ticket I proceededto Sydney, as the most likely place to fall in with some employment. Onthis subject, however, I felt much at a loss; for not having been bredto any mechanical trade, I could do nothing in that way. Farming was theonly business of which I knew anything; and in this, my father havingbeen an excellent farmer, I was pretty well skilled. My hope, therefore, was, that I would find some situation as a farm overseer, and thoughtSydney, although a town, the likeliest place to fall in with or hear ofan employer. On arriving in Sydney, I proceeded to the house of acountryman of the name of Lawson, who kept a tavern, and to whom Ibrought a letter of introduction from a relative of his own who had beenbanished for sedition, and who was one of my fellow-labourers in thelast place where I had served. On reading the letter, Lawson, who was akind-hearted man, exclaimed--

"Puir Jamie, puir fallow; and hoo is he standin't oot?"

I assured him that he was bearing his fate manfully, but that he hadbeen in the service of a remorseless master. 

"Ay, I ken him, " said Lawson. "A man that's no gude to his ain canna begude to ithers. "

"You must speak of him now, however, in the past tense, " said I. "Mr. ----- is dead. "

"Dead!" exclaimed Lawson, with much surprise. "When did he die?"

I told him, and also of the manner of his death. 

"Weel, that is shockin', " he remarked; "but, upon my word, bettercouldna hae happened him, for he was a cruel-hearted man. " Then, reverting to his relative, "Puir Jamie, " he said; "but I think we'llmanage to get Jamie oot o' his scrape by-and-by. I hae gude interest wi'the governor, through a certain acquaintance, and houpe to be able toget him a free pardon in a whily. But he maun just submit a wee in themeantime. "

"But anent yoursel, my man, " continued Lawson, "what can I do for ye?Jamie, here, speaks in the highest terms o' ye, and begs me to do what Ican for ye; and that I'll willingly do on his account. What war' ye bredto?"

I told him that I had been bred to the farming business, and that Ishould like to get employment as a farm overseer or upper servant, toengage for a year. 

"Ay, just noo, just noo, " said honest Lawson. "Weel, I'll tell you whatit is, and it's sae far lucky: there was a decent, respectable-lookingman here the day, a countryman o' our ain--and I believe he'll sleephere the nicht--wha was inquirin' if I kent o' ony decent, steady ladwho had been brocht up in the farmin' line. I kenna hoo they ca' theman, but he has been in my house, noo, twa or three times. He's only twaor three months arrived in the colony, and is settled somewhere in theneighbourhood o' Liverpool--our Liverpool, ye ken, no the EnglishLiverpool. He seems to be in respectable circumstances. Noo, if he comesto sleep here the nicht, as I hae nae doot he will, seein' there's naecoach for Liverpool till the morn's mornin'--I'll mention you till him, and maybe ye may mak a bargain. "

I thanked Lawson for his kindness, and was about leaving the house, witha promise to call back in the evening, when he stopped me, and insistedon my taking some refreshment. This, which consisted of some cold roastfowl and a glass of brandy and water, I readily accepted. When I hadpartaken of his hospitality I left the house, repeating my promise tocall again in the evening. The interval, knowing nobody in Sydney, Ispent in sauntering about the town. 

On the approach of evening, I again returned to Lawson's. He wasstanding in the doorway when I came forward. 

"Come awa, lad, " he said, with a glad face, on seeing me. "Your frien'shere, and I hae been speakin' to him aboot ye, and he seems inclined totreat wi' you. But he's takin' a bit chack o' dinner 'enoo, sae we'lllet him alane for twa or three minutes. Stap ye awa in there to the bar, in the meanwhile, and I'll let him ken in a wee that ye're here. "

I did so. In about ten minutes after, Lawson came to me, and said thegentleman up stairs would be glad to see me. I rose and followed him. We entered the room, the worthy landlord leading the way. The stranger, with his elbow resting on the table, was leaning his head thoughtfullyon his hand when we entered. He gazed at me for an instant wildly; hesprang from his chair; he clasped me in his arms. I returned theembrace. Reader, it was my own father!

"Davie, my son, " he exclaimed, so soon as his surprise and emotion wouldpermit him to speak, "how, in the name of all that's wonderful, has thiscome about? Where are you from? how came you here? and where on earthhave you been all this weary time, since you left us?"

It was several minutes before I could make any reply. At length--

"I have much to tell you, father, " I said, glancing at the same timetowards Lawson, who stood with open mouth and staring eyes, lost inwonder at the extraordinary scene, which he yet could not fullycomprehend. 

Understanding, however, the hint conveyed in that look, the worthy maninstantly quitted the apartment, leaving us to ourselves. On his doingso, I sat down at table with my father, and related to him the wholehistory of my misfortunes, without reserve or extenuation. 

The narrative grieved and distressed him beyond measure; for, until Itold him, he had no idea I stood before him a convicted felon; his firstimpression naturally being that I had come to the colony of my own freewill. 

Unlike all others, however, he, my poor father, believed implicitly myassertions of entire innocence of the crime for which I had beentransported. But he felt bitterly for the degrading situation in which Istood, and from which neither my own conscious innocence nor hisconvictions, he was but too sensible, could rescue me in so far asregarded the opinion of the world. 

Having told my father my story, he told me his. It was simply this--thestory of hundreds, thousands. Tempted by the favourable accounts he hadheard and read of Australia, he had come to the resolution ofemigrating; had, with this view, sold off at home; and here he was. Headded that he had obtained a grant of land, of about 500 acres, in theneighbourhood of Liverpool, on very favourable terms; that although hehad not found everything quite so suitable or so well-ordered as he hadexpected, he had no doubt of being able to do very well when once heshould have got matters put in proper train. He said he had already gota very good house erected on the farm, and that although their situationfor the first two or three months was bad enough, they were now prettycomfortable; and he hoped that, with my assistance--seeing, as heinterpolated with a faint smile, I had just cast up in the nick oftime--they would soon make things still better. 

"Your poor mother, Davie, " continued my father, recurring to a subjectwhich we had already discussed--for my first inquiries had been afterthat dear parent, who, I was delighted to learn, was in perfect goodhealth, although sunk in spirits in consequence of long mental sufferingon my account, --"Your poor mother, Davie, " he said, "will go distractedwith joy at the sight of you. Her thoughts by day, her dreams by night, have been of you, Davie. But, " he added, seeing the tears streaming downmy cheeks, "I will not distress you by dwelling on the misery you haveoccasioned her. It's all over now, I trust, and you will compensate forthe past. Neither will I say a word as to the folly of your conduct inflying your father's house as you did. You have paid dearly for thatfalse step; and God forbid, my son, that I, your father, should add tothe punishment. You are, I perceive, too sensible of the folly to renderit necessary. So, of that no more. "

Of that folly I was indeed sensible--bitterly sensible; and could notlisten to the calm, rational, and kind language of my father, withoutlooking back with amazement at the stupidity of my conduct. It nowseemed to me to have been the result of utter insanity--madness. I couldneither recall nor comprehend the motives and impulses under which I hadacted; and could only see the act itself standing forth in naked, inexplicable absurdity. Recurring again to the circumstances which hadled to my present unhappy position, and which were always floatinguppermost in my father's mind--

"That scoundrel, Digby, " he said, "must have been at the bottom of themischief, Davie. It must have been he who put the spoon into yourpocket. What a fiendish contrivance!"

"I have always thought so, father, " I replied; "and on my trial venturedto hint it, as I also did to the turnkeys and jailers; but although nonesaid so directly, I saw very clearly that all considered it as aridiculous invention--a clumsy way of accounting for a very plain fact. "

My father now proposed that I should start with him on the followingmorning, per coach, for Liverpool, from which his farm was distant aneasy walk of some six or seven miles. On the following morning, accordingly, after having duly acknowledged our worthy host's kindness, we took our seats on the outside of the coach, and were soon whirling itaway merrily toward our destination. 

During our journey, it gave both my father and I much painful thoughthow we should break the matter of my unhappy position to my mother. Itwould be death to her to learn it. At first we thought of concealing thecircumstances altogether; but the chances of her hearing it from others, or making the discovery herself when she was unprepared for it, througha hundred different means, finally determined us on communicating theunpleasant intelligence ourselves; that is, my father undertook thedisagreeable task, meaning, however, to choose time and circumstance, and to allow a day or two to elapse before he alluded to it. 

Having arrived at Liverpool, we started on foot for my father's farm. Should I attempt it, I would not find it easy to describe what were myfeelings at this moment, arising from the prospect of so soon beholdingthat dear parent, whose image had ever been present to my mind, whosekind tones were ever sounding in my ears like some heart-stirring andwell-remembered melody. They were overpowering. But when my father, after we had walked for about an hour, raised his stick, and, pointingto a neat farm-steading on the slope of a hill, and on the skirt of adense mountain forest that rose high behind it, said, "There's thehouse, Davie, " I thought I should have sunk on the ground. I had neverfelt so agitated, excepting in that unhappy hour when I stood at the barof the Old Bailey, and heard sentence of transportation awarded againstme. But I compare the feelings on these two occasions only as regardstheir intensity: in nature they were very different indeed. On theformer, they were those of excruciating agony; on the latter, those ofexcessive joy. As we approached the house, I descried one at the door. It was a female figure. It was my mother. I gasped for breath. I flewover the ground. I felt it not beneath my feet. I would not berestrained by my father, who kept calling to me. My mother fixed hergaze on me, wondering at my excited manner--wondering who I could be;all unconscious, as I could perceive by her vacant though earnest look, that I was her son--- the darling of her heart. But a mother's eye isquick. Another moment, and a shriek of wild joy and surprise announcedthat I was recognised; in the next, we were in each other's arms, wraptin a speechless agony of bliss!

My father, whom I had left a long way behind, came up to us while wewere locked together in this silent embrace, and stood by us for a fewseconds without speaking a word, then passed quietly into the house, leaving us to ourselves. 

"My son, my son!" exclaimed my mother, so soon as the fulness of herfeelings would allow of utterance, "you have been cruel, cruel to yourmother. But I will not upbraid you. In seeing you again--in clasping youonce more to my bosom--I am repaid a thousandfold for all you have mademe suffer. "

With what further passed between us, I need not detain the reader. 

The tender expressions of a mother and son meeting under suchcircumstances as we met, being the language of nature, the embodiment offeelings which all ran conceive, there is no occasion for dilating onthem in my particular case. I pass on to other things of more general, or at least more uncommon interest. 

The first day of my arrival at my father's farm was passed entirelywithin doors in social communion, and in bringing up that arrear ofinterchange in thought and feeling which our separation for so long aperiod had created. 

On the following day I commenced work with my father; and although Ihad done my duty faithfully by both the masters I had served since Icame to New South Wales, I soon found the difference between compulsoryand voluntary labour. 

In the former case I certainly wrought diligently, but as certainly notcheerfully. There was an absence of spirit that quickly gave rise tolistlessness and fatigue, and that left the physical energies weak andlanguid, in the latter case, it was far otherwise. Toil as I might, Ifelt no diminution of strength. I went from task to task, some of themfar harder than any I had yet encountered, with unabated vigour, andaccomplished with ease double the work I ever could get through withwhen in bondage. 

The joint labours of my father and myself, assisted occasionally byhired service--for he could not endure the idea of having convicts abouthim--soon put a new and promising face on the farm. 

We cleared, we drained, we enclosed, and we sowed and planted, until weleft ourselves comparatively little to do--I mean in the way of hardlabour--but to await the returns of our industry. 

It was some time after we had got things into this state--that is, Ithink about three months after I had joined my father--that the latterreceived intelligence of a band of bushmen or bushrangers having beenseen in the neighbourhood. He was assured that they were skulking in theadjoining forest, and that we might every night expect our house to beattacked, robbed, and ourselves, in all probability, murdered. 

This information threw us into a most dreadful state of alarm; thesebushrangers, as the reader probably knows, being runaway convicts, menof the most desperate characters, who take to the woods, and subsist byplundering the settlers--a crime to which they do not hesitate to addmurder--many instances of fearful atrocities of this kind havingoccurred. 

For some time we were quite at a loss what to do; for although we hadfirearms and ammunition in the house, there were only four men of us--myfather, myself, and two servant lads--while the bushrangers, as we hadbeen told, were at least ten or twelve in number. To have thought thenof repelling them by force, was out of the question; it could only haveended in the murder of us all. 

Under these circumstances, my father determined on applying to theauthorities for constabulary or military protection; and with this viewwent to Liverpool, where the district magistrate resided. 

On stating the case to the latter, he at once gave my father a note tothe commanding officer of the garrison, enjoining him to send a smallparty of military along with him, --these to remain with us for ourprotection as long as circumstances should render it necessary, and, inthe meanwhile, to employ themselves in scouring the adjoining woods, with a view to the apprehension of the bushrangers, and to fire on themwithout hesitation in all cases where they could not be captured. 

The result was, that a party of twelve men, commanded by a sergeant, were immediately turned out, and marched off with my father. 

I was sitting on an eminence close by the house, and which commanded aview of the road leading to and from Liverpool, looking out for myfather's return, when the party came in sight. 

As they neared, I recognised the men, from certain particulars in theiruniform, a party of the--th, the regiment into which I had enlisted. 

The circumstance excited some curious feelings, and awakened a train ofnot very pleasing reflections. 

I had never dreamt of meeting any of the corps in so distant a part ofthe world; yet there was nothing more likely or more natural, a largemilitary force being always kept in New South Wales, and frequentlychanged. 

I felt, however, no uneasiness on the subject, thinking that it was notat all probable, seeing the very short time I had been in the regiment, and the constant accession of new men it was receiving, I should berecognised by any of the party. 

In the meantime, the party were rapidly approaching me, and were now sonear, that I could perceive the sergeant to be a tall and handsome youngman of about two or three and twenty. Little did I yet dream who thissergeant was. I descended to meet them. We came up to each other. Thesergeant started on seeing me, and looked at me with a grave surpriseand fixed gaze. I did precisely the same by him. We advanced towardseach other with smiling faces and extended arms. "Lorimer!" exclaimedthe sergeant. "Lindsay!" I replied. It was indeed Lindsay, my oldcomrade, promoted to a sergeantcy. 

Our mutual astonishment and satisfaction at this extraordinary andunexpected meeting was, I need not say, very great, although I certainlythought I perceived a certain dryness and want of cordiality inLindsay's manner towards me. But for this I made every allowance, believing it to proceed from a doubt of my innocence, if not aconviction of my guilt, in the matter for which I had been transported. He in short, it seemed to me, could not forget that, in speaking to me, although an old comrade, he was speaking to a convicted felon. However, notwithstanding this feeling on his part, we talked freely of oldstories; and as we were apart from the men, I did not hesitate, amongstother things, to allude to my misfortune, nor to charge the blame of iton Digby. 

"Well, " said the sergeant, in reply to my remarks on this subject, "since you have mentioned the matter yourself, Lorimer, I am glad tohear you say so--that is, to hear you say that you are innocent of thatrascally business; for, putting your assertions, so solemnly made, towhat my wife says--for she has some queer stories of that fellowDigby--I have no doubt now of your innocence. "

"Your wife!" exclaimed I in some amazement. "In the first place, then, you are married; in the next, how on earth, if I may ask, should sheknow anything of Digby?"

"Why, man, Susan Blaikie is my wife, " replied the sergeant, laughing;"and she's not, I take it, half a dozen miles from us at this moment. Ileft her safe and sound in my quarters in Liverpool not two hours ago;and right glad will she be to see you, when you can make it convenientto give us a call. But of that we will speak more hereafter. "

Like two or three other things recorded in this little history, thisinformation gave me much surprise, but, like few of them, muchgratification also; as I had feared the worst for poor Susan, seeingthat she had been discharged from her situation, as I had no doubtwithout a character, probably under a suspicion of being concerned withme in the alleged robbery. 

By the time I had expressed the surprise and satisfaction which SergeantLindsay's communication had given me, we had reached the house, when allconversation between us of a private nature ceased for the time. 

The first business now was to set some refreshment before the men. Thiswas quickly done; the sergeant, my father, and I taking care ofourselves in a similar way in another apartment. The next was to takethe immediate matter in hand into consideration. Accordingly, we threeformed ourselves into a council of war, and, after some deliberation, came to the following resolutions:--That we should, soldiers and all, keep closely within doors during the remainder of the afternoon; andthat as it was more than probable the bushmen would make their attackthat very night, and as it was likely they would know nothing of themilitary being in the house, seeing that they always kept at a distanceduring the day, or lay concealed in hidden places, we should take themby surprise; that, for this purpose, we should remain up all night, andplace ourselves, with loaded arms, by the windows, and in such othersituations as would enable us to see them approaching, without beingseen by them. 

Having determined on this plan of operations, we resumed ourconversation on indifferent matters, and thus spent the time till it waspretty far on in the night, when Lindsay suggested that it was full timethe men were distributed in the positions we intended them to occupy. Two were accordingly placed at each window of both the back and front ofthe house, the sergeant and I occupying one, --he with one of ourmuskets, and I with a rifle. It was a bright moonlight night; so that, as the vicinity of the house was completely cleared around, to thedistance of at least 200 yards on every side, no one could approach itwithout being seen; although they could remain long enough invisible, and in safety, in the dense wood beyond, and by which the house wassurrounded on all sides but one. 

The sergeant and I had thus sat for, I think, about an hour and a half, looking intently towards the dark forest beyond the cleared ground, when we thought we saw several small, dark objects flitting about theskirts of the wood; but whether they were kangaroos or men, we could nottell. 

Keeping our eyes fixed steadily on them, however, we by-and-by saw themunite, and could distinctly make out that they were approaching thehouse in a body. Soon they came sufficiently near to enable us todiscern that it was a party of men, to the number of about eight or ten. There might be more, but certainly no fewer. We could now also see thatthey were armed--at least a part of them--with muskets. 

Satisfied that they were the much dreaded bushrangers, of whose vicinitywe had been apprised, the sergeant hastily left the window at which heand I had been seated, and, stealing with soft and cautious stepsthrough the house, visited each of his posts to see that the men were onthe alert. To each he whispered instructions to put their pieces oncock, to go down on their knees at the window, and to rest the muzzlesof their muskets on the sill, but not project them out more than two orthree inches. He concluded by telling them not to fire a shot until theyheard the report of his musket; that then they were to pepper away ashard as they could pelt, taking, however, a sure and steady aim at everyshot. 

In the meantime the bushmen, whose advance had been, and still was, veryslow and cautious, as if they dreaded an ambuscade, had approached towithin seventy yards of the house. Thinking them yet too distant to makesure of them, we allowed them to come nearer. They did so; but they hadnow assumed a stealthy step, walking lightly, as if they feared thattheir footfalls should be heard. They were led on by one of theirnumber; at least there was one man considerably in advance of hisfellows. He was armed with a sword, as we saw it flashing in themoonlight. 

The party, handling their guns in readiness to fire, on the slightestalarm, at any living object that might present itself, were now withinthirty or forty yards of the house, and had halted to reconnoitre; whenthe sergeant, who had been on his knees for several minutes before, withhis piece at his eye, said softly, "Now, " and fired. Whether he hadaimed at the foremost man of the gang, I do not know; but if so, he hadmissed him, for he still stood firm. At this person, however, I nowlevelled, fired, and down he came. In the next instant the shots wererapping thick and fast from the different windows of the house. 

The bushrangers, taken by surprise, paused for an instant, returned twoor three straggling shots, and then fled in the utmost consternation anddisorder. We kept pelting after them for a few minutes, and then, quitting the house, gave them chase, with a whooping and hallooing thatmust have added in no small degree to their terror. In this chase weovertook two that had been severely wounded, and came upon a third nearthe skirt of the wood, who, after running so far, had dropped down dead. The others, who had fled, some of whom, we had no doubt, were alsowounded, escaped by getting into the forest, where it was no use lookingfor them. The two wounded men we made prisoners, and carried back to thehouse. As we were returning, we came upon the man whom I had broughtdown. Being extended motionless on the ground at full length, we thoughthim dead, and were about to pass on, intending to leave him where he laytill the morning, when I thought I heard him breathing. I knelt downbeside him, looked narrowly into his face, and found that he was stillliving. On discovering this, we had the unfortunate man carried to thehouse; and having placed him on a mattress, staunched the bleeding ofhis wound, which was on the right breast, and administered a littlebrandy and water, which almost immediately revived him. He opened hiseyes, began to breathe more freely, and in a short time was so farrecovered as to be able to speak, although with difficulty. 

The excitement of the fray over, if the late affair could be so called, my heart bled within me for the unhappy wretch who had been reduced bymy hand to the deplorable condition in which he now lay before me. Myconscience rose up against me, and would not be laid by any suggestionsof the necessity that prompted the deed. In my anxiety to make whatreparation I could for what now seemed to me my cruelty, I sat by themiserable sufferer, ready and eager to supply any want he might express, and to administer what comfort I could do him in his dying moments; forthat he was dying, notwithstanding the temporary revival alluded to, wasbut too evident from his ghastly look and rapidly glazing eye. 

It was while I thus sat by the unhappy man, and while silentlycontemplating his pallid countenance, by the faint light of a lamp thathung against the wall of the apartment, that I suddenly thought Iperceived in that countenance some traces of features that I had seenbefore. Whose they were, or where I had seen them, I did not at firstrecollect. But the idea having once presented itself, I kept hunting itthrough all the recesses of my memory. At length Digby occurred to me. But no, Digby it could not be. Impossible. 

I looked on the countenance of the sufferer again. It was slightlydistorted with pain, and all trace of the resemblance I had fancied wasgone. An interval of ease succeeded. The real or imagined resemblancereturned. Again I lost sight of it, and again I caught it; for it wasonly in some points of view I could detect it at all. At length, aftermarking for some time longer, with intense interest, the features of thesufferer, my conviction becoming every moment stronger and stronger, andmy agitation in consequence extreme, I bent my head close to the dyingman, and, taking his cold and clammy hand in mine, asked him, in awhisper, if his name was not Digby. His eyes were closed at the moment, but I saw he was not sleeping. On my putting the question, he openedthem wide, and stared wildly upon me, but without saying a word. Heseemed to be endeavouring to recognise me, but apparently in vain. Irepeated the question. This time he answered. Still gazing earnestly atme, he said, and it was all he did say, "It is. "

"Don't you know me?" I inquired. 

He shook his head. 

"My name is Lorimer, " said I. 

"Thank God, " he exclaimed solemnly. "For one, at least, of my crimes itis permitted me to make some reparation. Haste, haste, get witnesses andhear my dying declaration. There's no time to lose, for I feel I am fastgoing!"

Without a moment's delay--- for I felt the importance of obtaining thedeclaration, which I had no doubt would establish my innocence--I ranfor my father and Sergeant Lindsay, and, to make assurance doubly sure, brought two of the privates also along with me. It was a striking sceneof retributive justice, On our entering the apartment where Digby lay, the wretched man raisedhimself upon his elbow. I ran and placed two pillows beneath him tosupport him. He thanked me. Then raising his hand impressively, anddirecting it towards me--

"That young man there, " he said, "David Lorimer, is, as I declare onthe word of a dying man, innocent of the crime for which he was banishedto this country. I, and no other, am the guilty person. It was I whorobbed my master, Mr. Wallscourt, of the silver plate for which thisyoung man was blamed; and it was I who put the silver spoon in hispocket, in order to substantiate the charge I subsequently broughtagainst him, and in which I was but too successful. "

He then added, that in case his declaration should not be deemedsufficient to clear me of the guilt imputed to me, we should endeavourto find out a person of the name of Nareby--Thomas Nareby--who, he said, was in the colony under sentence of transportation for life forhousebreaking; and that this person, who had been, at the time of therobbery for which I suffered, a receiver of stolen goods, and with whomhe, Digby, had deposited Mr. Wallscourt's plate, would acknowledge--atleast he hoped so--this transaction, and thus add to the weight of hisdying testimony to my innocence. 

Digby having concluded, I immediately committed what he had just said towriting, and having read it over to him, obtained his approval of it. Hethen, of his own accord, offered to subscribe the declaration, and withsome difficulty accomplished the task. The signature was hardly legible, but it was quite sufficient when attested, as it was, by the signaturesof all present excepting myself. Exhausted with the effort he had made, Digby now sank back on his pillow, and in less than three minutes afterexpired. 

We now learned from the unhappy man's two wounded companions, who, thereader will recollect, were our prisoners, that, soon after my trial andcondemnation, he, Digby, had left Mr. Wallscourt's service, not underany suspicion of the robbery of the plate, but with no very goodgeneral character; that he had the betaken himself entirely to live withthe abandoned characters whose acquaintance he had formed, and tosubsist by swindling and robbery; that he had proceeded from crime tocrime, until he at length fell into the hands of justice; and hisbanishment to the colony where he had arrived about six months before, was the result; that he had not been more than a month in the countrywhen he and several other convicts ran away from the master to whom theyhad been assigned, and took to the bush. Such was the brief but dismalhistory of this wretched man. 

On the following day we buried his remains in a lonely spot in theforest, at the distance of about half a mile from the house, andthereafter proceeded with our prisoners to Liverpool. On arriving there, I accompanied my father to the magistrate on whom he had waited on aformer occasion, and having stated to this gentleman the extraordinarycircumstance which had taken place--meaning Digby's declaration--headvised an immediate application to the governor, setting forth thecircumstances of the case. This I lost no time in doing, enclosingwithin my memorial Digby's attested declaration, and pointing out Narebyas a person likely to confirm its tenor. The singularity and apparenthardship of the case, combined with the favourable knowledge of mepreviously existing, attracted the attention of the governor in aspecial manner, and excited in him so lively an interest, that heinstantly had Nareby subjected to a judicial examination, the result ofwhich was a full admission on the part of that person of the transactionto which Digby alluded. 

Satisfied now of my innocence, and of the injustice which had beenunwittingly done me, the governor not only immediately transmitted me afull and free pardon but offered me, by way of compensation, alucrative government appointment. This appointment I accepted, and heldfor thirty years, I trust with credit to myself, and satisfaction to mysuperiors. At the end of this period, feeling my health giving way, myfather and mother having both, in the meantime, died, and having allthat time scraped together a competency, I returned to my native land, and have written these little memoirs in one of the pleasantest littleretirements on the banks of the Tweed. 

I have only now to add, that I had frequent opportunities of seeing bothLindsay and his wife after the establishment of my innocence, and thatno persons would more sincerely rejoice in that event than they did. Mypoor mother, whom my father had made aware of my situation soon after myarrival, and who had borne the intelligence much better than weexpected, it put nearly distracted with joy. 

"My puir laddie, " she exclaimed, "I aye kent to be innocent. But noo theworld 'll ken it too, and I can die happy. "

THE AMATEUR ROBBERY. 

If there is anything more than another of which civilisation has reasonto be proud, it is the amelioration that has been effected in punishmentfor crimes. Nor is it yet very long since we began to get quit of theshame of our folly and inhumanity, if we have not traces of these yet, coming out like sympathetic ink dried by the choler of self-perfectionand a false philosophy, as in such writings as the latter-day pamphlets. How a man who loves his species, and has a heart, will hang his headabashed as he turns his vision back no further than the sixteenthcentury, and sees the writhing creatures--often aged unhappywomen--under the pilniewinkies, caschielaws, turkases, thumbikens, andother instruments of torture, frantically bursting out with the demandedconfession that was to fit them for the stake or the rope! And evenafter these things in the curiosity shop of Nemesis were got rid of, theabettors of the law rushed with full swing into the operation ofhanging, scarcely allowing a crime to escape, from cold-blooded murderdown to the act of the famished wretch who snatched a roll from abaker's basket. However insensible these strange lawgivers may have beento so much cruelty, however blind to the perversity, prejudices, andweaknesses incident to human testimony, however ignorant of the totalinefficacy of their remedy to deter from crime, one might have imaginedthat they could not but have known, if they ever looked inwardly intotheir own hearts, how obscure are human motives, and especially thosethat instigate to breaches of the law; and yet their consistent rulewas, to make the _corpus delicti_ prove the intention. Theseconsiderations have been suggested to me by the recollection of a wildadventure of some young men in Edinburgh, the circumstances of which, not belonging to fiction, will show better than a learned dissertationhow easy it was for these Dracos to catch the fact and miss the motive. 

The skeleton names--now, alas! the only representatives of skeletonbodies--Andrew W----pe, Henry S----k, and Charles S----th, may recall tothe memory of some people in Edinburgh still, three young men, who, withgood education, fair talents, and graces from nature, might have playeda respectable _rôle_ in the drama of life, had it not been for atendency to "fastness, " a disease which seems to increase withcivilisation. In their instance the old adage of Aristotle, _similegaudet simili_, was exemplified to the letter; and the union confirmedin each a mind which, originally impatient of authority, fretted itselfagainst the frame of society, simply because that frame was the resultof order. They were never happy except when they went up to thepalisades, struck upon them with their lath-blades, and when someorderly indweller looked over atop, ran away laughing. No doubt they hadstrong passions to gratify too; but, as is usual with this peculiar raceof beings, the gratification was the keener the more it owed to arebellion against decorum. If they ever differed, it was only in theirrivalry of success; or when they did not go a spree-hunting together, they recounted their exploits at their nightly meetings, and then theresult was an increase of moral inflammation. 

Sometimes, for a change, they would take strolls into the country, wherethey could extract as tribute the admiration or wrath of clodhopperswithout being troubled with any fears of the police; not that on any ofthese occasions they perpetrated any great infringements on the law, for, like the rest of their kind, if they could make themselves objectsof observation, they were regardless whether their bizarreries were paidwith admiration or only anger or fear, though, if they could produce byany means a causeless panic, the very height of their ambition wasattained. In regard to this last effect of their escapades, they were, in the instance I am about to record, more than satisfied. They hadgone, on a fine, clear, winter day, along the coast of the Firth ofForth towards Cramond; and, to diversify their amusements, they tookwith them a gun, which was carried by S----th, with the intention ofhaving a shot at any wild bird or barn-door fowl that might comeconveniently within his range. Of this kind of game they had fewerchances, and the stroll would doubtless have appeared a very monotonousaffair to a person fond of rational conversation. Nor was there mucheven to themselves of diversification till they got into a smallchange-house at Davidson's Mains, where, with a rampant authority, theycontrived to get served up to them a kind of dinner, intending to makeup for the want of better edibles by potations of whisky toddy. 

If facts, as Quinctilian says, are the bones of conversation, opinionsare certainly its sinews; and we might add, that whisky toddy is itsnervous fluid. These youths, though unwilling to acquire solidinformation, could wrangle even to quarrelling; but such were theiraffinities, that they adhered again in a short time, and were as firmfriends as ever. They had raised a subject--no other than the questionwhether highwaymen are necessarily or generally possessed of truecourage. Very absurd, no doubt, but as good for a wrangle as any otherthat can be divided into affirmative and negative by the refractingmedium of feeling or prejudice. S----th declared them all to be cowards. 

"What say you to Cartouche?" said S----k; "was he a coward?"

"Not sure but he was, " said S----th; "he kept a band of blackguards andreceived their pay, but he was seldom seen in the wild _mélee_ himself. He was fond of the name of terror he bore; but then, as he listened tothe wonderful things the Parisian _blanchisseuses_ and _chiffonniers_and _gamins_ said of him, he knew he was not recognisable, for the veryreason that he kept out of sight. "

"Oh yes, " said W----pe, who joined S----k; "and so he was like Wallace, who kept out of the sight of the English, and yet delighted in Dundee tohear himself spoken of by the crowds who collected in these troublesometimes to discuss public affairs. S----th, you know Wallace was a coward, don't you?"

"A thorough poltroon, " cried S----th, laughing; "ay, and all the peoplein Scotland are wrong about him. Didn't he run off, after stabbing thegovernor's son? and he was always skulking about the Cartland Crags. Then, didn't he flee at the battle of Falkirk; and was he not a robberwhen Scotland belonged to Longshanks? No doubt the fellow had a bigbody, strong bones, and good thews; but that he had the real pluck thatnerved the little bodies of such men as Nelson, or Suwarrow, ay, or ofNapoleon, I deny. " Then he began a ludicrous singing, see-saw recitationof the English doggrel--

 "The noble wight, The Wallace dight, Who slew the knight On Beltane night, And ran for fright Of English might, And English fight, And English right;"

and so on in drunken ribaldry. 

"All very well for you who are a Shamite, Shmite, Shmith, Smith, " saidW----pe. "We happen to be Japhetites. Then what say you to Rob Roy?"

"That, in the first place, " replied S----th, "he was a Shemite; forGathelus, the first Scottish monarch, was a grandson of Nimrod, and, what is worse, he married Scota, the daughter of an Egyptian queen, sothere was a spice of Ham in Rob; and as all the Hamites were robbers, Rob was a robber too;--as to whose cowardice there is no doubt whatever;for a man who steals another man's cattle in the dark must be a coward. Did you ever hear one single example of Rob attacking when in gooddaylight, and fighting for them in the sun?"

"Ingenious, S----th, at any rate, " roared S----k; "but I don't agreewith you. A robber on the highway, must, in the general case, havecourage. He braves public opinion, he laughs at the gallows, and hethrows himself right against a man in bold competition, without knowingoften whether he is a giant or a dwarf. "

"All the elements of a batter pudding, " cried S----th, "without thebattering principle. Ay, you forget the head-battering bludgeon, theinstantaneous pistol, or the cunning knife; none of all which would aman with a spark of courage in him use against an unarmed, defencelesstraveller. Another thing you forget, the robber acts upon surprises. Heproduces confusion by his very presentation, fear by his demand of lifeor money; and when the poor devil's head is running round, he runs awaywith his watch or his purse, perhaps both. 'Tis all selfishness, pureunadulterated selfishness; and will you tell me that a man without aparticle of honesty or generosity can have courage?"

"Not moral courage, perhaps; but he may have physical. "

"All the same, no difference, " continued the doughty S----th. "Who everheard of a bodily feeling except as something coming through the body?There are only two physical feelings: pain in being wounded or starved, and pleasure in being relieved from pain, or fed when hungry or thirsty. I know none other; all the others are moral feelings. "

"You may be bold through drink acting on the stomach and head. "

"Ay, but the boldness, though the effect of a physical cause, is itselfa moral entity. "

"Whoever thought that S----th was such a metaphysician!" said W----pe, alittle agoggled in his drunken eyes. 

"But the same may be said of every feeling, " rejoined S----k, somewhatroused to ambition by W----pe's remark. 

"And so it may, my little Aristotle, " continued the clever asserter ofhis original proposition. "Why, man, look ye, what takes you into MissF----'s shop in Princes Street for snuff, when you never produce aphysical titillation in your nose by a single pinch? Why, it's somethingyou call love, a terribly moral thing, though personified by a littlefellow with pinions. Yes, wondrously moral; and sometimes, as in yourcase, immoral. Well, what is it produced by? The face of the said MissF---- painted as a sun picture in the camera at the back of your eye, where there is a membrane without a particle of nitrate of silver in itscomposition, and which yet receives the image. Well, what is love butjust the titillation produced by this image imprinted on your flesh, just as the pleasure of a pinch is the effect of a titillation of thenerves in the nose? Yet we don't say that snuff pleasure is a moralthing, but merely nasal or bodily. What makes the difference?"

"How S----th is coming it!" said W----pe, still more amazed. "Where thedevil has he got all this?"

"Why, the difference lies here. You know, by manipulation and blowingit, that you have a nose; but you don't wipe the retina at the back ofyour eye when you are weeping for love--only the outside, where thepuling tears are. In short, you know you have a nose, but you don't knowyou have a retina. D'ye catch me, my small Stagyrite, my petitPeripatetic, my comical Academician, eh? Take your toddy, and let's havea touch of moral drunkenness. "

"You ray-ther have me on the hip, S----th. "

"Ay, just so; and if I should kick you there, you would not say the painwas a moral thing. All through the same. It's just where and when wedon't know the medium we say things are moral and spiritual, andpoetical and rational, and all the rest of the humbug. "

"But though you say all highwaymen are cowards, you won't try that trickwith your foot, " said S----k, boiling up a little under the fire of thetoddy. 

"Don't intend; though, if you were to produce moral courage in me bypinching my nose, I think I could, after making up my mind and puttingyou upon your guard with a stick in your hand if you chose. Eh! myPeripatetic. " And S----th was clearly getting drunk too. 

"D----n the fellow, his metaphysics are making him [Transcriber's Note:missing part of this word] dent, " cried W----pe. 

"Why, you don't see where they hit, " said S----th drawlingly. "Somewhere about the pineal; and therefore we say impudence is moral, sometimes immoral, as just now when you damned me. No more of your oldjunk, I say, sitting here in my cathedra, which by the way isspring-bottomed, which may account for my moral elasticity that ahighwayman is a coward. "

"Well, " cried S----k, starting up. "I'll deposit a pound with W----pe, on a bet that you'll not take sixpence from the first bumpkin we meet onthe road, by the old watchword, 'Stand and deliver;' and you'll have thegun to boot. "

"Ay, that's a physical bribe, " cried W----pe; and, after pausing alittle, "The fellow flinches. "

"And surely the reverse must hold, " added S----k, "that, being a coward, he must be a highwayman. "

"Why, you see, gents, " said S----th coolly, "I don't mind a very greatdeal, you know, though I do take said sixpence from said bumpkin; but Iwon't do it, you know, on compulsion. "

"If there's no compulsion, there's no robbery, " said S----k. 

"Oh, I mean _your_ compulsion. As for mine, exercised on said bumpkin, let me alone for that part of the small affair; but none of yourcompulsion, if you love me. I can do anything, but not upon compulsion, you know. "

"Done then!"

"Why, ye-e-s, " drawled S----th, "done; I may say, gents, done; but I saywith Sir John, don't misunderstand me, not upon compulsion, you know. "

"Your own free will, " shouted both the others, now pretty well to do inthe world of dithyrambics. "Here's your instrument for extorting thesixpence by force or fear. "

And this young man, half inebriated--with, we may here sayparenthetically, a mother living in a garret in James' Square, with oneson and an only daughter of a respectable though poor man, and whotrusted to her son for being the means of her support--qualified, as wehave seen, by high parts to extort from society respect, and we may add, though that has not appeared, to conciliate love and admiration--tookwillingly into his hand the old rusty "Innes, " to perpetrate upon thehighway a robbery. And would he do it? You had only to look upon hisface for an instant to be certain that he would; for he had all thelineaments of a young man of indomitable courage and resolution--thesteady eye, the firm lip, all under the high brows of intellect, norunmixed with the beauty that belongs to these moral expressions which inthe playfulness of the social hour he had been reducing to materialism, well knowing all the while that he was arguing for effect and applausefrom those who only gave him the return of stultified petulance. What ifthat mother and sister, who loved him, and wept day and night over thewild follies that consumed his energies and demoralized his heart, hadseen him now!

The bill was paid by S----k, who happened to have money, and who gave iton the implied condition of a similar one for all on another occasion. They went, or, as the phrase is often, sallied forth. The night had nowcome down with her black shadows. There was no moon. She was dispensingher favours among savages in another hemisphere, who, savages thoughthey were, might have their devotions to their strange gods, residentwith her up yonder, where no robbery is, save that of light from thepure fountain of heat and life. Yes, the darkness was auspicious tofolly, as it often is to vice; and there was quietness too--no windsabroad to speak voices through rustling leaves, to terrify the criminalfrom his wild rebellion against the peace of nature. No night could havesuited them better. Yes, all was favourable but God; and Him these wildyouths had offended, as disobedient sons of poor parents, who hadeducated them well--as rebellious citizens among a society which wouldhave hailed them as ornaments--as despisers of God's temple, where gracewas held out to them and spurned. 

They were now upon the low road leading parallel to the beach, andtowards the end of Inverleith Row. Nor had the devil left them with thedeserted toddy-bowl. There was still pride for S----th, and for theothers the rankling sense of inferiority in talent and of injury fromscorching irony. Nor had they proceeded two miles, till the fatalopportunity loomed in the dark, in the form of a figure coming up fromLeith or Edinburgh. 

 Now, S----th; Now, the cowardly Cartouche; Now, the poltroon Rob Roy; Now, the braggart Wallace!

But S----th did not need the taunts, nor, though many a patriotic causewanted such a youth, was he left for other work, that night ofdevil-worship. The figure approached. Alas! the work so easy. S----thwas right; how easy and cowardly, where the stranger was, in theconfidence of his own heart, unprepared, unweaponed! Yet those who urgedhim on leapt a dyke. 

"Stand and deliver!" said S----th, with a handkerchief over his face. 

"God help me!" cried the man, in a fit of newborn fear. "I'm a father, have wife and bairns; but I canna spare my life to a highwayman. Here, here, here. "

And fumbling nervously in his pocket, and shaking all over, not at alllike the old object of similitude, but rather like a branch of a treedriven by the wind, he thrust something into S----th's hand, and rushingpast him, was off on the road homewards. Nor was it a quick walk underfear, but a run, as if he thought he was or would be pursued for hislife, or brought down by the long range of the gun he had seen in thehands of the robber. 

Yes, it was easily done, and it was done; but how to be undone at a timewhen the craving maw of the noose dangled from the post, in obedience tothe Procrustes of the time!

And S----th felt it was done. His hand still held what the man hadpushed into it, but by-and-by it was as fire. His brain reeled; hestaggered, and would have fallen, but for S----k, who, leaping the dyke, came behind him. 

"What luck?"

"This, " said S----th, --"the price of my life, " throwing on the groundthe paper roll. 

"Pound-notes, " cried S----k, taking them up. "One, two, three, four, five; more than sixpence. "

"Where is the man?" cried S----th, as, seizing the notes from the handsof S----k, he turned round. Then, throwing down the gun, he set offafter his victim; but the latter was now ahead, though his pursuer heardthe clatter of his heavy shoes on the metal road. 

"Ho, there! stop! 'twas a joke--a bet. "

No answer, and couldn't be. The man naturally thought the halloo was forfurther compulsion, under the idea that he had more to give, and on hesped with increased celerity and terror; nor is it supposed that hestopt till he got to his own house, a mile beyond Davidson's Mains. 

Smith gave up the pursuit, and with the notes in his hand, ready to becast away at every exacerbation of his fear, returned to his cowardlycompanions with hanging head and, if they had seen, with eyes rolling, as if he did not know where to look or what to do. 

"What is to be done?" he cried; and his fears shook the others. 

"Yes, what is to be done? You urged me on. Try to help me out. Let us goback and seek out this man. To-morrow it may be too late, when thepolice have had this robbery in their hands as a thing intended. "

"We could not find the man though we went back, " said S----k. And hiscompanions agreed. 

But W----pe, who had some acquaintanceship with the police CaptainStewart, proposed that they should proceed homewards, go to him, givehim the money, and tell the story out. 

"That, I fear, would be putting one's hand in the mouth of the hyaena atthe moment he is laughing with hunger, as they say he does. "

An opinion which S----th feared was too well founded. Nearly at theirwits' end, they stood all three for a little quite silent, till thesound of a horse's clattering feet sounded as if coming from Davidson'sMains. All under the conviction of crime, they became alarmed; and asthe rider approached, they concealed themselves behind the dyke, whichran by the side of the road. At that moment a man came as if fromEdinburgh, and they could hear the rider, who did not, from his voice, appear to be the man who had been robbed, inquiring if he had met ayoung man with a gun in his hand. The man answered no, and off set therider towards town at the rate of a hard trot. The few hopeful momentswhen anything could have been done effectually as a palinode andexpiation were past; and S----th, releaping the dyke, was again uponthe road in the depth of despair, and his companions scarcely less so. All his and their escapades had hitherto been at least within the boundsof the law; and though his heart had often misgiven him, when calledupon for the nourishment of his wild humours, as he thought of hiswidowed mother at home, without the comfort of the son she loved inspite of his errors, he had not ever yet felt the pangs of deep regretas they came preluding amendment. A terrible influx of feelings, whichhad been accumulating almost unknown to him during months andmonths--for his father had been dead only for a year and a half--pushedup against all the strainings of a wild natural temperament, and seemedready to choke him, depriving him of utterance, and making him appearthe very coward he had been depicting so sharply an hour before. A deepgloom fell over him; nor was this rendered less inspissated by therecollection that came quick as lightning, that he was the only oneknown to the mistress of the inn. And now, worse and worse--for the samepower that sent him that conviction threw a suspicion over his mindwhich made him strike his forehead with an energy alarming to hiscompanions--no other--"O, merciful God!" he muttered--than that the manhe had robbed was his maternal uncle; the only man among the friends ofeither his father or his mother who had shown any sympathy to thebereaved family, who had fed them and kept them from starvation, and bywhom he had been himself nourished. He had no power to speak this: itwas one of those thoughts that scathe the nerves that serve the tongue, and which flit and burn, and will not ameliorate their fierceness by thecommon means given to man in mercy. It now appeared to him as somethingmiraculous why he did not recognise him; but the occasion was one ofhurry and confusion, and so completely oblivious had he been in theagony which came on him in an instant, that he even thought that at thevery moment he knew him, looking darkly, as he did, through thehandkerchief over his eyes. In his despair, he meditated hurrying toLeith, and with the five pounds getting a passage over the seasomewhere, it signified nothing where, if away from the scene of hiscrime and ingratitude; and this resolution was confirmed by theadditional thought that Mr. Henderson, however good and generous, was astern man--so stern, that he had ten years before given up a beloved soninto the hands of justice for stealing; yea, stern _ex corde_ as Cato, if generous _ex crumena_ as Codrus. 

This resolution for a time brought back his love of freedom andadventure. He would go to Hudson's Bay, and shoot bears or set traps forwild silver-foxes, that would bring him gold; or to Buenos Ayres, andcatch the wild horse with the lasso; or to Lima, and become a soldier offortune, and slay men with the sword. The gleam of wild hope wasshortlived--his triumph over his present ill a temporary hallucination. The laurel is the only tree which burns and crackles when green. Theintention fled, as once more the thought of his mother came, with thatvigour which was only of half an hour's birth, and begotten by youngconscience on old neglect. They had been trailing their legs along tillthey came to Inverleith Row, where he behoved to have left hiscompanions, if his resolution lasted; for the road there goes straighton to Leith Harbour. He hesitated, and made an effort; but S----k, whoknew him, and fancied from the wild look of his eye that he meditatedthrowing himself into the deep harbour of Leith, took him by an arm, motioning to W----pe to take the other, and thus by a very smalleffort--for really his resolution had departed, and his mind, so far ashis intention went, was gone--they half forced him up the long row. Whenthey arrived at Canonmills, here is the rider again, hurrying on: he hadexecuted his commission, whatever it was, and was galloping home. Butthe moment he came forward, he pulled up. He had, by a glance under thelight of a lamp, caught a sight of the gun in the hands of S----k, whohad carried it when he took S----th's arm. The man shouted to apoliceman, "Seize that robber!"

"Which of them?"

"Him with the gun. "

And in an instant the cowardly dog who had done the whole business waslaid hold of. 

"The gun is mine, " cried S----th. "It is I who am answerable forwhatever was done by him who carried that weapon. Take me, and let theinnocent off. I say this young man is innocent. "

"Very gallant and noble, " said the man; "but when we go to the hills, welike the deer that bears the horns. "

"We are up to them tricks, " said the policeman. And S----k is bornealong, with courage, if he ever had any, gone, and his eye lookingterror. 

S----th wanted to go along with him; but W----pe seized him by the armagain and dragged him up by the east side of Huntly Street, whereby theycould get easily to James' Square. 

In a few minutes more S----th was at his mother's door with the burningfive pounds in his pocket. He had meditated throwing it away, but thehurrying concourse of thoughts had prevented the insufficient remedyfrom being carried into effect. When he opened the door he found hismother alone. The sister had not yet come from the warehouse where sheearned five shillings a week, almost the only source of her and themother's living; for the money which S----th earned as a mere copyingclerk in a writer's office, went mostly in some other direction. Themother soon observed, as she cast her eye over him, that there wassomething more than ordinary out of even his irregular way. He was pale, woe-worn, haggard; nor did he seem able to stand, but hurried to a chairand flung himself down, uttering confusedly, "Something to drink, mother----whisky. "

"I hae nane, Charlie, lad, " said she. "Never hae I passed a day likethis since your father died. I have na e'en got the bit meat that a' getthat are under God's protection. But what ails ye, dear Charlie?"

"Never mind me, " replied the youth in choking accents. "I am better. Starving, starving! O God! and my doing. Yes, I am better--a bittercure--starving, " he again muttered; and searching his pockets, andthrowing the five pounds on the table--"There, there, there, " he added. 

The mother took up the notes, and counted them slowly; for she had beeninured to grief, and was always calm, even when her heart beat fast withthe throbs of anguish. 

"And whaur fae, laddie?" she said, as she turned her grey eye andscanned deeply the pale face of her son. 

Silent, even dogged! Where now his metaphysics, his gibes on thephysicalities, the moralities, the spiritualities?--all bundled up in avibrating chord. 

"Whaur fae, Charlie, " had she repeated, still looking at him. 

"The devil!" cried he, stung by her searching look, which brought back agleam of the old rebellion. 

"A gude paymaster to his servants, " she said; "but I'm no ane o' themyet; and may the Lord, wham I serve, even while his chastening hand isheavy upon me, preserve me frae his bribes!" And laying down the notes, she added, not lightly, as it might seem, but seriously, yet quietly, "Nae wonder they're warm. "

The notes had carried the heat of his burning hand. 

"The auld story--billiards, " said she again; "for they are the devil'scue and balls. "

No answer; and the mother seating herself again, looked stedfastly andsuspiciously at him; but she could not catch the eye of her son, who satdoggedly determined not to reveal his secret, and as determined also toelude her looks, searching as they were, and sufficient to enter hisvery soul. Yet she loved him too well to objurgate where she was only asyet suspicious; and in the quietness of the hour, she fell for a momentinto her widowed habit of speaking as if none were present but herself. 

"Wharfor bore I him--wharfor toiled and wrought for him for sae monyyears, since the time he sat on my knee smiling in my face, as if hesaid, I will comfort you when you are old, and will be your stay andsupport? Was that smile then a lee, put there by the devil, wha hasgi'en him the money to deceive me again?"

Then she paused. 

"And how could that be? Love is not a cheat; and did ever bairn love amither as he loved me? or did ever mither love her bairn as I hae lovedhim? Lord, deliver him frae his enemies, and mak him what he was in thaebygone days--sae innocent, sae cheerful, sae obedient; and I will meeklysuffer a' Thou canst lay upon me. "

The words reached the ears of the son, and the audible sobs seemed tostartle the solemn spirit of the hour and the place. "What would shesay, " he thought, "if she heard me declare I had robbed my uncle?"

At that moment the door opened, and in rushed little JeanieS----th, --her face pale, and her blue eyes lighted with fear, and thethin delicate nostril distended, and hissing with her quickbreathings, --

"Oh mither, there's twa officers on the stair seeking Charlie!"

And the quick creature, darting her eye on the table where the noteslay, snatched them up, and secreted them in her bosom; and, what wasmore extraordinary, just as if she had divined something more from herbrother's looks, which told her that that money would be sought for bythese officers, she darted off like a bird with a crumb in its bill, which it has picked up from beneath your eyes; but not beforedepositing, as she passed, a paper on a chair near the door. 

"That creature is a spirit, " said the mother. "She sees the evil in thedark before it comes, and wards it off like a guardian angel; but oh!she has little in her power to be an angel. "

And rising, she took up the paper. It was only some bread and cheese, which the girl, knowing the privations of her mother, had bought with apart of her five shillings a week. 

Thereafter, just as little Jeannie had intimated, came in two officers, with the usual looks of duty appearing through their professionalsorrow. 

"We want your son, good woman. "

"He is there, " said she; "but what want ye him for?"

"Not for going to church, " said the man, forgetting said professionalsorrow in his love of a joke, "but for robbery on the highway; and wemust search the house for five pounds in British Linen Company notes. "

And the men proceeded to search, even putting their hands in themother's pockets, besides rifling those of the son. They of course foundnothing except the powder and shot, which had still remained there, anda handkerchief. 

"That is something, anyhow, " said one of the men, "and a great deal too. The one who is up in the office says true; he was not the man. "

"No more he was, " said Charles. "I am the man you ought to take; andtake me. "

"Sae, sae; just as I suspected, " muttered the mother. "Lord, Lord! thecup runs over. It was e'en lipping when John died; but I will bear yet. "And she seemed to grasp firmly the back of a chair, and compressed herlips--an attitude she maintained like a statue all the time occupied bythe departure of her son. The door closed--he was gone; and she stillstood, the _vivum cadaver_--the image of a petrified creature of misery. 

Yet, overcome as her very calmness was, and enchanted for the momentinto voicelessness and utter inaction, she was not that kind of womenwho sit and bear the stripes without an effort to ward them off. IfJeannie was as quick as lightning, she was sure as that which followsthe flash. She thought for a moment, "God does not absolutely and forever leave his servants. " Some thought had struck her. She put on herbonnet and cloak deliberately, even looking into the glass to see if shewas tidy enough for where she intended going, and for whom she intendedto see. 

And now this quiet woman is on her way down Broughton Street at twelveo'clock of a cold winter night, which, like her own mind, had only thatcalmness which results from the exhaustion of sudden biting gusts fromthe north, and therefore right in her face. She drew her cloak roundher. She had a long way to go, but her son was in danger of the gallows;and thoughtless, and as it now seemed, wicked as he was, he was yet her_son_. The very word is a volume of heart language--not the fitfulexpression of passion, but that quiet eloquence which bedews the eye andbrings deep sighs with holy recollections of the child-time, andgerminating hopes of future happiness up to the period when he wouldhang over her departing spirit. Much of all that had gone, and beenreplaced by dark forebodings of the future; and now there was before herthe vision of an ignominious death as the termination of all these holyinspirations. But her faithful saying was always, "Wait, hope, andpersevere;" and the saying was muttered a hundred times as she trudgedweariedly, oh! how weariedly, for one who had scarcely tasted food forthat day, and who had left untouched the gift brought by her lovingdaughter that night--for which, plain as it was, her heart yearned evenamidst its grief, yea, though grief is said, untruly no doubt, to haveno appetite. Perhaps not to those who are well fed; but nature isstronger than even grief, and she now felt the consequence of herdisobedience to her behests in her shaking limbs and fainting heart. Yetshe trudged and trudged on, shutting her mouth against her empty stomachto keep out the cold north wind. She is at the foot of Inverleith Row, and her face is to the west; she will now escape the desultory blasts bykeeping close by the long running dyke. She passes the scene of therobbery without knowing it; else, doubtless, she would have stood andexamined it by those instincts that force the spirit to such modes ofsatisfaction, as if the inanimate thing could calm the spiritual. Shewas now drawing to Davidson's Mains: a little longer, and much pastmidnight, she was rapping, still in her quiet way, at the door of herbrother. 

The family had had something else to do than to sleep. There were thesounds of tongues and high words. Mrs. S----th was surprised, as wellshe might; for though sometimes Mr. Henderson partook freely of thebottle when he met old friends in town, he and the whole household werepeaceable, orderly, and early goers to bed. The door was opened almostupon the instant; and Mrs. S----th was presently before Mr. Hendersonand two others, one of whom held in his hand a whip. 

"What has brought you here, Margaret, at this hour?"

"I want to speak privately to you. "

"Just here; out with it, " said he. "These are my friends; and if it ismore money you want, you have come at an unlucky time, for I have beenrobbed by a villain of five pounds, which I could ill spare. "

Mrs. S----th's heart died away within her. She clenched her hands tokeep her from shaking; for she recollected the old story about his ownson--a story which had got him the character of being harsh andunnatural. She could not mention her errand, which was nothing else thanto induce her brother to use his influence in some way to get Charlesout of the hands of the law. She could not utter even the word Charles, and all she could say was--

"Robbed!"

"Ay, robbed by a villain, whom I shall hang three cubits higher thanHaman. "

And the stern man even laughed at the thought of retribution. Yet, withal, no man could deny his generosity and general kindliness, if, even immediately after, he did not show it by slipping a pound into thehands of his needy sister. 

"There, " said he; "no more at present. I will call up and see youto-morrow morning, as I go to the police office to identify the villain. Meantime, take a dram, dear Peggy, and get home to bed. The night iscold, and see that you wrap yourself well up to keep _out_ the wind and_in_ the spirit; it's good whisky. "

Shortly afterwards she was on her way home, with more than blasted hopesof what she had travelled for. 

His uncle the man he had robbed! Even with all her forced composedness, this seemed too much--ay, so much too much, that she was totallyoverpowered. She paused to recover strength; and, looking forward, saw athin flying shadow coming up to her, with a shriek of delight; andimmediately she was hugged rapturously and kissed all over by littleJeannie, whose movements, as they ever were--so agile, so quick, soProtean--appeared to her, now that she was stolid with despair, as thepostures and gestures of a creature appearing in a dream. 

"Oh, I know all, " she cried; "don't speak--nay, wait now till I return. "

And the creature was off like a September meteor disappearing in thewest, as if to make up again to the sun, far down away behind the hillsfrom whence it had been struck off in the height of the day. 

What can the strange creature mean? But she had had experience of her, and knew the instinctive divination that got at objects and resultswhere reason in full-grown man would syllogize into the darkness ofdespair. 

Nor was it long before she is running back, leaping with all the_abandon_ of a romp, crying--

"I will save dear Charlie yet; for I love him as much as I hate that oldcurmudgeon. "

"What does the girl mean? Whaur was you, bairn?" said her mother. 

"Oh mother, how cold it is for you! Wrap the cloak about you. "

"But what _is_ it that you mean, Jeannie?"

"We shall be home by-and-by; come. "

And, putting an arm round her mother's waist, she impelled her forwardwith the strength of her wythe of an arm. 

"Come, come, there are ghosts about these woods;" and then she cowered, but still impelled. 

Nor did the mother press the question she had already put twice; for, aswe have said, she knew the nature of the girl, who ever took her ownway, and had the art to make that way either filial obedience or lovingconciliation. 

"Oh, I'm so frightened for these ghosts!" she continued. "You know therewas a murder here once upon a time. They're so like myself--wicked, andwon't answer when they're spoken to, as I would not answer you, dearmother, just now; but wait till to-morrow, and you shall see that I amyour own loving Jeannie. "

"Weel, weel, bairn, we _will_ see. But, oh, I'm muckle afraid; d'yeknow, Jeannie, Charlie has been robbing! And wha, think ye, was theman--wha but--"

"Hush, hush, mother, I know it all already; but let me beneath yourcloak, I'm so frightened. "

And the little sprite got in, keeping her head and the little cup of abonnet protruding every moment to look round; yet if it could have beenseen in the dark, with such a sly, half-humorous eye, as betokened oneof those curiously-made creatures who seem to be formed for studies tothe thoroughgoing decent pacers of the world's stage. 

"Ah! now we're all safe, as poor Charlie will be to-morrow, " she cried, as they got to the foot of the long row, and she emerged in the light ofone of the lamps, so like a flash from a cloud, running before hermother to get her to walk faster and faster, as if some scheme she hadin her head was loitering under the impediment of her mother's wearied, oh, wearied step. 

Having at length reached home, Jeannie ran and got the fire as bright asher own eye, crying out occasionally, as she glanced about, "Poor Charlie in a dungeon!" and again, a few minutes after, whenpuffing at the fire with the bellows, "No fire for dear Charlie; all dark and dismal!"

And then, running for the little paper packet with the cheese and bread, and setting it down, "But he'll see the sun to-morrow, and will sleep in his own bedto-morrow night too; that he shall. Now eat, mother, for you will behungry; and see you this!" as she took from her pocket a very tinybottle, which would hold somewhere about a glass. 

"Take that, " filling out a little whisky. 

"Oh dear, dear bairn, where learnt ye a' that witchery?" said themother, looking at her. 

But the sly look, sometimes without a trace of laughter in her face, wasthe only answer. 

And now they are stretched in bed in each other's arms; but it was arestless night for both. And how different the manifestations of therestlessness! The groans of the elder for the fate of her only boy, nowsuspended on the scales of justice--one branch of the balance to be loptoff by Nemesis, and the other left with a noose in the string whereon tohang that erring, yet still beloved son; hysterical laughs from Jeanniein her dreams, as she saw herself undo the kench, and Charlie let out, clapping his hands, and praying too, and kissing Jeannie, and otherfantastic tricks of fancy in her own domain, unburdened with heavy claywhich soils and presses upon her wings and binds her to earth, and tothese monstrous likenesses of things, which she says are all a lyingnature under the bonds of a blind fate, from where she cannot get free, even though she screams of murder and oppression and cruelty, and allthe ills that earth-born flesh inherits from the first man. 

Yet, for all these deductions from the sleep they needed, Jeannie was upin the morning early, infusing tea for herself and mother, muttering, asshe whisked about, "No breakfast for him made by me, who love him so dearly; but in thisvery house, ay, this night, he will have supper; and such a supper!"

In the midst of these scenes in the little room, a knock came to thedoor. It was a policeman, to say that she and her mother must be up tothe office by ten. 

"And shall we not?" said Jeannie, laughing; "wouldn't I have been thereat any rate?"

Then, a little after, came the stern Henderson, still ignorant of whorobbed him. Mrs. S--th got up trembling, and looking at him with terror, so dark he appeared. 

"Where is Charles?" he said. 

"We don't know, " said Jeannie, turning a side-glance at her mother. Itwas true she hated her uncle mortally, for the reason that, though hewas to an extent generous to them, he was harsh too, and left them oftenpoorly off, when from his wealth, which he concealed, he might have madethem happy; and then how could they help the conduct of the son whoseearnings ought to have relieved the uncle of even his small advances?

But though Jeannie hated the curmudgeon, who was, if he could, to hangher brother--worth to her all the world and a bit of heaven--the mothersaw some change in the girl's conduct towards her uncle. Though pure assnow, she flew to him and hugged him with the art of one of the denizensof rougedom, and kissed him, and all the time was acting some by-playwith her nimble fingers. 

"Where is your box, you naughty uncle? Doesn't my mother like her eyesopened in the morning? Ah, here it is. "

And getting the box, she carried it to her mother, who was still moresurprised; for she never had got a pinch from Mr. Henderson nor any one, though she sometimes, for her breathing, took a draught of a pipe atnight. 

"It is empty, you witch, " cried Henderson. 

"Ah! then, my mother will not get her eyes opened. " And she returned itinto his pocket with these said subtle fingers. 

The mother got dressed, and took a cup of Jeannie's tea, and in a fewminutes they were all on their way to the police office. They foundCaptain Stewart in his room, and along with him the procurator-fiscal. 

"Come away, Mr. Henderson; this is a bad business, " said Stewart. 

"The villain!" cried Henderson; "I hope he will hang for it. "

"Ay, if guilty though, only, " replied the captain. 

"Would you know the man?" said the fiscal. 

"No, he had a napkin over his face; but I could guess something from hissize and voice. "

"He admits the robbery, " said Stewart; "but he has an absurdqualification about a frolic, which yet, I am bound to say, is supportedby his accomplices. "

"Then the money, five pounds, has not been got, " said the fiscal. "Thisis a great want; for without it, I don't see what we can make of thecase. "

"Money here or money there, I've lost it anyhow; and if he isn't hanged, I'll not be pleased. "

"Was there any but one man engaged in the affair?"

"Just one, and plenty. "

"He had a gun?"

"Yes. "

"Would you know it?"

"No. I was, to say the truth, too frightened to examine the instrumentthat was to shoot me. "

"Then we have nothing but the admission and the testimony of theaccomplices, who say it was a frolic, " said Stewart. 

"No frolic to me, " cried Henderson. "Why then didn't they return themoney?"

"They say they called and ran after you, and that you would not wait toget it back. "

"Then why didn't they produce it to you?" said Henderson. "The money isappropriated. "

"A circumstance, " said the fiscal, "in itself sufficient to rebut thefrolic. Yes, the strength of the case is there. "

"So I thought, " growled the man. 

"You wasn't in liquor?"

"No. "

"Are you ever?"

"I don't deny that in town I take a glass, but seldom so much as toaffect my walking; never so much as make me dream I was robbed of money, and that too money gone from my pocket. "

"Where do you carry your money?"

"In my waistcoat pocket. Sometimes I have carried a valuable bill homein my snuff-mull, when it was empty by chance. "

"Where had you the five pounds?"

"I am not sure, but I think in my left waistcoat pocket. "

"And you gave it on demand? It was not rifled from you?"

"I thrust it into the villain's hand, and ran. "

"Well, we must confront you with the supposed robber, " said the captain. "But you seem to be in choler, and I caution you against a precipitatejudgment. You may naturally think the admission of the young men enough, and that may make you see what perhaps may not be to be seen. I confessthe admission of _three_ to be more than the law wants or wishes; yetthere are peculiarities in this case that take it out of the generalrules. " Stewart then nodded to an officer, who went out and returned. 

"There stands the prisoner. "

"Charles S----th!" ejaculated the uncle: "my own nephew! execrablevillain!"

And he looked at the youth with bated breath and fiery eyes. 

There was silence for a few minutes. The officials looked pitiful. Themother hung down her head; and little Jeannie leered significantly, while she took the strings of her bonnet, tied them, undid them again, and flung away the ends till they went round her neck; nay, the playfulminx was utterly dead to the condition of her brother who stood there, ashamed to look any one in the face, if he was not rather like anexhumed corpse; and we would not be far out if we said that she evenlaughed as she saw the curmudgeon staring like an angry mastiff at thebrother she loved so well. But then, was she not an eccentric thing, driven hither and thither by vagrant impulses, and with thoughts in herhead which nobody could understand?

"Was this the man who robbed you, Mr. Henderson?"

"Yes, the very man; now when I recollect. Stay, was there anyhandkerchief found on him?"

"Yes; that, " said an officer, producing a red silk handkerchief. 

"Why, I gave him that, " said Mr. Henderson. "It cost me 4s. 6d. ; and itwas that he had over his face when he robbed me of my hard-earnedmoney!"

"It is true, " said Charles; "and sorry am I for the frolic, which mycompanions forced me into. "

"A frolic with five pounds at its credit, " said Mr. Henderson. "Where isthe money, sir?"

"Ah! I know, dear uncle, " cried the watchful Jeannie, in a piercingtreble of the clearest silver. 

All eyes were turned on Jeannie. 

"Then where is it, girl?"

"I saw him put it in his snuff-mull last night when he was at mother's. "

"Examine your box, Mr. Henderson. "

The man growled, took out the box, and there was the five pounds. Helooked at Jeannie as if he would have devoured her with his nose at asingle pinch. 

"Was Mr. Henderson sober, Miss S----th?"

"No. "

"Was he drunk?"

"No. Only he couldn't stand scarcely, though he could walk; and hecalled mother Jeannie, and me Peggy, and he said 'twas a shame in us toburn two candles at his expense, when one was enough. "

"_Saved by a pinch_, " cried Captain Stewart. 

"Mr. Henderson, " said the fiscal, "the case is done, and would neverhave come here if your nose had happened last night to be as itchy asyour hand. The prisoner is discharged. "

And no sooner had the words been uttered than Jeannie flew to herbrother, hung round his neck, kissed him, blubbered and played suchantics that the fiscal could not refrain searching for his handkerchief. He found it too; but just as if this article were no part of hisofficial property, he returned it to his pocket; and then, as he sawCharles leaning on his mother's breast, and making more noise with hisheart and lungs than he could have done if he had been hanged, heresolved, after due deliberation, to let the "hanging drop" have its ownway in sticking on the top of his cheek, and determined not to fall forall his jerking. 

"BARBADOES, _15th July_ 18--. 

"MY DEAREST LITTLE JEANNIE, --I am at length settled the manager of agreat sugar factory, with £400 a year. Tell your mother I will write herby next post; and all I can say meantime is, that Messrs. Coutts and Co. Will pay her £100 a year, half-yearly, till I return to keep you, forsaving me from the gallows. Accept the offer of the old man. He is worth£500 a year; and you're just the little winged spirit that will keep upa fire of life in a good heart only a little out of use. 

"_P. S. _--Tell uncle that I will send him five pounds of snuff, by nextship, in return for the five pounds I took out of his box on thateventful night, which was the beginning of my reformation. 

"Tell Mrs. S----k and Mrs. W----pe that their sons arrived at Jamaica;but, poor fellows, they are both dead. 

"The same vessel that carries the snuff will convey to mother a hogsheadof sugar and a puncheon of rum. So that at night, in place of the tinyphial which held a glass, and which you used to draw out of your pocketso slily when mother was weakly, you may now mix for her a tumbler ofrum-punch; and if you don't take some too, I'll send you no more. But, hark ye, Jeannie, don't give uncle a _drop_, though he tried to give meone that, I fear, would have made my head, like yours, a little giddy. Adieu, dear little Ariel. "

THE PROCRASTINATOR. 

Being overtaken by a shower in Kensington Gardens, I sought shelter inone of the alcoves near the palace. I was scarce seated, when the stormburst with all its fury; and I observed an old fellow, who had stoodloitering till the hurricane whistled round his ears, making towards me, as rapidly as his apparently palsied limbs would permit. Upon his nearerapproach, he appeared rather to have suffered from infirmity than years. He wore a brownish-black coat, or rather shell, which, from itsdimensions, had never been intended for the wearer; and hisinexpressibles were truly inexpressible. "So, " said I, as he seatedhimself on the bench, and shook the rain from his old broad-brimmed hat, "you see, old boy, '_Procrastination is the thief of time_;' the cloudsgave you a hint of what was coming, but you seemed not to take it. " "Itis, " replied he, eagerly. "Doctor Young is in the right. Procrastinationhas been my curse since I was in leading-strings. It has grown with mygrowth, and strengthened with my strength. It has ever been my besettingsin--my companion in prosperity and adversity; and I have slept upon it, like Samson on the lap of Delilah, till it has shorn my locks anddeprived me of my strength. It has been to me a witch, a manslayer, anda murderer; and when I would have shaken it off in wrath and in disgust, I found I was no longer master of my own actions and my own house. Ithad brought around me a host of its blood relations--its sisters and itscousins-german--to fatten on my weakness, and haunt me to the grave; sothat when I tore myself from the embrace of one, it was only to beintercepted by another. You are young, sir, and a stranger to me; butits effects upon me and my history--the history of a poor paralyticshoemaker--if you have patience to hear, may serve as a beacon to you inyour voyage through life. "

Upon expressing my assent to his proposal--for the fluency and fervencyof his manner had at once riveted my attention and excited curiosity--hecontinued:--

"I was born without a fortune, as many people are. When about five yearsof age, I was sent to a parish school in Roxburghshire, andprocrastination went with me. Being possessed of a tolerable memory, Iwas not more deficient than my schoolfellows; but the task which theyhad studied the previous evening was by me seldom looked at till thefollowing morning, and my seat was the last to be occupied of any otheron the form. My lessons were committed to memory by a few hurriedglances, and repeated with a faltering rapidity, which not unfrequentlypuzzled the ear of the teacher to follow me. But what was thus hastilylearned, was as suddenly forgotten. They were mere surface impressions, each obliterated by the succeeding. And though I had run over atolerable general education, I left school but little wiser than when Ientered it. 

"My parents--peace to their memory!"--here the old fellow looked mostfeelingly, and a tear of filial recollection glistened in his eyes: itadded a dignity to the recital of his weakness, and I almost reverencedhim--"My parents, " continued he, "had no ambition to see me rise higherin society than an honest tradesman; and at thirteen I was boundapprentice to a shoemaker. Yes, sir, I was--I am a shoemaker; and butfor my curse--my malady--had been an ornament to my profession. I havemeasured the foot of a princess, sir; I have made slippers to hisMajesty!" Here his tongue acquired new vigour from the idea of his ownimportance. "Yes, sir, I have made slippers to his Majesty; yet I am anunlucky--I am a bewitched--I am a ruined man. But to proceed with myhistory. During the first year of my apprenticeship, I acted in thecapacity of errand boy; and, as such, had to run upon many an unpleasantmessage--sometimes to ask money, frequently to borrow it. Now, sir, I amalso a _bashful_ man, and, as I was saying, _bashfulness_ is one of theblood relations which procrastination has fastened upon me. While actingin my last-mentioned capacity, I have gone to the house, gazed at everywindow, passed it and repassed it, placed my hand upon the rapper, withdrawn it, passed it and repassed it again, stood hesitating andconsulting with myself, then resolved to defer it till the next day, andfinally returned to my master, not with a direct lie, but a broad_equivocation_; and this was another of the cousins-german whichprocrastination introduced to my acquaintance. 

"In the third year of my servitude, I became fond of reading; wasesteemed a quick workman; and, having no desire for money beyond whatwas necessary to supply my wants, I gave unrestricted indulgence to mynew passion. We had each an allotted quantity of work to perform weekly. Conscious of being able to complete it in half the time, and havingyielded myself solely to my ruinous propensity to delay, I seldom didanything before the Thursday; and the remaining days were spent inhurry, bustle, and confusion. Occasionally I overrated my abilities--mytask was unfinished, and I was compelled to count a _dead horse_. Weekafter week this grew upon me, till I was so firmly saddled, that, untilthe expiration of my apprenticeship, I was never completely freed fromit. This was another of my curse's handmaidens. "

Here he turned to me with a look of seriousness, and said, "Beware, young man, how you trust to your own strength and your own talents; forhowever noble it may be to do so, let it be in the open field, beforeyou are driven into a corner, where your arms may come in contact withthe thorns and the angles of the hedges. 

"About this time, too, I fell in love--yes, _fell_ in love; for I justbeheld the fair object, and I was a dead man, or a new man, or anythingyou will. Frequently as I have looked and acted like a fool, I believe Inever did so so strikingly as at that moment. She was a beautifulgirl--a very angel of light--about five feet three inches high, and myown age. Heaven knows how I ever had courage to declare my passion; forI put it off day after day, and week after week, always preparing a newspeech against the next time of meeting her, until three or four rivalsstepped forward before me. At length I did speak, and never was lovemore clumsily declared. I told her in three words; then looked to theground, and again in her face most pitifully. She received my addressesjust as saucily as a pretty girl could do. But it were useless to goover our courtship; it was the only happy period of my existence, andevery succeeding day has been misery. Matters were eventually brought toa bearing, and the fatal day of final felicity appointed. I was yetyoung, and my love possessed all the madness of a first passion. She notonly occupied my heart, but my whole thoughts; I could think of nothingelse, speak of nothing else, and, what was worse, do nothing else: itburned up the very capabilities of action, and rendered my nativeindolence yet more indolent. However, the day came (and a bitter stormyday it was), the ceremony was concluded, and the honeymoon seemed topass away in a fortnight. 

"About twelve months after our marriage, Heaven (as authors say) blestour loves with a son and, I had almost said, heir. Deplorablepatrimony!--heir of his mother's features--the sacrifice of his father'sweakness. " Kean could not have touched this last burst. The father, themiserable man, parental affection, agony, remorse, repentance, wereexpressed in a moment. 

A tear was hurrying down his withered cheek as he dashed it away withhis dripping sleeve. "I am a weak old fool, " said he, endeavouring tosmile; for there was a volatile gaiety in his disposition, which hissorrows had subdued, but not extinguished. "Yet, my boy! my poor dearWillie!--I shall never--no, I shall never see him again!" Here he againwept; and had nature not denied me that luxury, I should have wept too, for the sake of company. After a pause, he again proceeded:--

"After the birth of my child, came the baptism. I had no conscientiousobjection to the tenets of the Established Church of my country; but Ibelonged to no religious community. I had never thought of it as anobligation beyond that of custom, and deferred it from year to year, till I felt ashamed to 'go forward' on account of my age. My wife was aCameronian; and to them, though I knew nothing of their principles, Ihad an aversion. But for her to hold up the child while I was in theplace, was worse than heathenism--was unheard-of in the parish. Thenearest Episcopal chapel was at Kelso, a distance of ten miles. Thechild still remained unbaptized. 'It hasna a name yet, ' said theignorant meddlers, who had no higher idea of the ordinance. It was asource of much uneasiness to my wife, and gave rise to some familyquarrelling. Months succeeded weeks, and eventually the child wascarried to the Episcopal church. This choked up all the slander of thetown, and directed it into one channel upon my devoted head. Some said I'wasna sound, ' and all agreed I 'was nae better than I should be, ' whilethe zealous clergyman came to my father, expressing his fears that 'hisson was in a bad way. ' For this, too, am I indebted to procrastination. I thus became a martyr to supposed opinions, of which I was ignorant;and such was the unchristian bigotry of my neighbours, that, deeming itsinful to employ one whom they considered little other than a pagan, about five years after my marriage I was compelled to remove with myfamily to London. 

"We were at this period what tradesmen term _miserably hard up_. Havingsold off our little stock of furniture, after discharging a few debtswhich were unavoidably contracted, a balance of rather less than twopounds remained; and upon this, my wife, my child, and myself were totravel a distance of three hundred and fifty miles. I will not go overthe journey: we performed it on foot in twenty days; and, includinglodging, our daily expense amounted to one shilling and eightpence; sothat, on entering the metropolis, all we possessed was five shillingsand a few pence. It was the dead of winter, and nearly dark, when wewere passing down St. John Street, Clerkenwell. I was benumbed, my wifewas fainting, and our poor child was blue and speechless. We entered apublic-house near Smithfield, where two pints of warm porter and ginger, with a crust of bread and cheese, operated as partial restoratives. Thenoisy scene of butchers, drovers, and coal-heavers was new to me. Mychild was afraid, my wife uncomfortable, and I, a gaping observer, forgetful of my own situation. My boy pulled my coat, and said, 'Come, father;' my wife jogged my elbow, and reminded me of a lodging; but myold reply, '_Stop a little_, ' was my ninety and nine times repeatedanswer. Frequently the landlord made a long neck over the table, gaugingthe contents of our tardily emptied pint; and, as the watchman wascalling 'Past eleven, ' finally took it away, and bade us 'bundle off. 'Now I arose, feeling at once the pride of my spirit and the poorness ofmy purse, vowing never to darken his door again, should I remain inLondon a hundred years. 

"On reaching the street, I inquired at a half-grown boy where we mightobtain a lodging; and after causing me to inquire twice or thrice--'I noken, Sawney--haud awa' north, ' said the brat, sarcastically imitating myaccent. I next inquired of a watchman, who said there was no place uponhis beat; but _beat_ was Gaelic to me; and I repeated my inquiry toanother, who directed me towards the hells of Saffron Hill. At a third, I requested to be informed the way, who, after abusing me for seekinglodgings at such an hour, said he had seen me in the town six hoursbefore, and bade us go to the devil. A fourth inquired if we had anymoney, took us to the bar of a public-house, called for a quartern ofgin, drank our healths, asked if we could obtain a bed, which beinganswered in the negative, he hurried to the door, bawling 'Half-pasteleven, ' and left me to pay for the liquor. On reaching Saffron Hill, itwas in an Irish uproar: policemen, thieves, prostitutes, and Israeliteswere brawling in a satanic mass of iniquity; blood and murder was theorder of the night. My child screamed, my wife clung to my arm; shewould not, she durst not, sleep in such a place. To be brief: we had towander in the streets till the morning; and I believe that night, aidedby a broken heart, was the forerunner of her death. It was the firsttime I had been compelled to walk trembling for a night without shelter, or to sit frozen on a threshold; and this, too, I owe toprocrastination. 

"For a time we rented a miserable garret, without furniture or fixture, at a shilling weekly, which was paid in advance. I had delayed makingapplication for employment till our last sixpence was spent. We hadpassed a day without food; my child appeared dying; my wife saidnothing, but she gazed upon her dear boy, and shook her head with anexpression that wrung me to the soul. I rushed out almost in madness, and, in a state of unconsciousness, hurried from shop to shop inagitation and in misery. It was vain; appearances were against me. I wasbroken down and dejected, and my state of mind and manner appeared acompound of the maniac and the blackguard. At night I was compelled toreturn to the suffering victims of my propensity, penniless andunsuccessful. It was a dreadful and a sleepless night with us all; or ifI did slumber upon the hard floor for a moment (for we had neither seatnor covering), it was to startle at the cries of my child wailing forhunger, or the smothered sighs of my unhappy partner. Again and again Ialmost thought them the voice of the Judge, saying, 'Depart from me, yecursed. '

"I again hurried out with daybreak, for I was wretched, and resumed myinquiries; but night came, and I again returned equally successful. Theyearnings of my child were now terrible, and the streaming eyes of hisfond mother, as she pressed his head with her cold hand upon her lap, alone distinguished her from death. The pains of hunger in myself werebecoming insupportable; my teeth gnashed against each other, and wormsseemed gnawing my heartstrings. At this moment, my dear wife looked mein the face, and, stretching her hand to me, said, 'Farewell, my love, in a few hours I and our dear child shall be at rest! Oh! hunger, hunger!' I could stand no more. Reason forsook me. I could have died forthem; but I could not beg. We had nothing to pledge. Our united wearingapparel would not have brought a shilling. My wife had a pair of pocketBibles (I had once given them in a present): my eyes fell upon them--Isnatched them up unobserved--rushed from the house, and--Oh heaven! letthe cause forgive the act--pawned them for eighteenpence. It saved ourlives, it obtained employment, and for a few weeks appeared to overcomemy curse. 

"I am afraid I grow tedious with particulars, sir; it is an old man'sfault--though I am not old either; I am scarce fifty-five. After beingthree years in London, I was appointed foreman of an extensiveestablishment in the Strand. I remained in this situation about fouryears. It was one of respectability and trust, demanding, hourly, avigilant and undivided attention. To another, it might have beenattended with honour and profit; but to me it terminated in disgrace. Amongst other duties, I had the payment of the journeymen, and thegiving out of the work. They being numerous, and their demands frequent, it would have required a clerk for the proper discharge of that dutyalone. I delayed entering at the moment in my books the materials andcash given to each, until they, multiplying upon my hands, and begettinga consequent confusion, it became impossible for me to make their entrywith certainty or correctness. The workmen were not slow in discoveringthis, and not a few of the more profligate improved upon it to theiradvantage. Thus I frequently found it impossible to make both ends of myaccount meet; and in repeated instances, where the week's expenditureexceeded the general average, though satisfied in my own mind of itsaccuracy, from my inability to state the particulars, in order toconceal my infirmity, I have accounted for the overplus from my ownpocket. Matters went on in this way for a considerable time. You willadmit I was rendered feelingly sensible of my error, and I resolved tocorrect it. But my resolutions were always made of paper; they were likea complaisant debtor--full of promises, praying for grace, anddexterously evading performance. Thus, day after day, I deferred theadoption of my new system to a future period. For, sir, you must beaware there is a pleasure in procrastination, of a nature the mostalluring and destructive; but it is a pleasure purchased by thesacrifice of judgment: in its nature and results it resembles thehappiness of the drunkard; for, in exact ratio as our spirits are raisedabove their proper level, in the same proportion, when the ardenteffects have evaporated, they sink beneath that level. 

"I was now too proud to work as a mere journeyman, and I commencedbusiness for myself; but I began without capital, and a gourd of sorrowhung over me, while I stood upon sand. I had some credit; but, as mybills became payable, I ever found I had put off, till the very day theybecame due, the means of liquidating them; then had I to run and borrowfive pounds from one, and five shillings from another, urged by despair, from a hundred quarters. My creditors grew clamorous; my wife upbraidedme; I flew to the bottle--to the bottle!" he repeated; "and my ruin wascomplete--my family, business, everything, was neglected. Bills ofMiddlesex were served on me, declarations filed; I surrendered myself, and was locked up in Whitecross Street. It is a horrid place; the Fleetis a palace to it; the Bench, paradise! But, sir, I will draw my painfulstory to a close. During my imprisonment my wife died--died, not by myhands, but from the work of them! She was laid in a strange grave, andstrangers laid her head in the dust, while I lay a prisoner in the citywhere she was buried. My boy--my poor Willie--who had been alwaysneglected, was left without father and without mother! Sir! sir! my boywas left without food! He forsook visiting me in the prison; I heard hehad turned the associate of thieves; and from that period five yearshave passed, and I have obtained no trace of him. But it is my doing--mypoor Willie!"

Here the victim of procrastination finished his narrative. The storm hadpassed away, and the sun again shone out. The man had interested me, andwe left the gardens together. I mentioned that I had to go into thecity; he said he had business there also, and asked to accompany me. Icould not refuse him. From the door by which we left the gardens, ourroute lay by way of Oxford Street. As we proceeded down Holborn, thechurch bell of St. Sepulchre's began to toll; and the crowd, collectedround the top of Newgate Street, indicated an execution. As weapproached the place, the criminal was brought forth. He was a young manabout nineteen years of age, and had been found guilty of an aggravatedcase of housebreaking. As the unhappy being turned round to look uponthe spectators, my companion gave a convulsive shriek, and, springingfrom my side, exclaimed, "Righteous Heaven! my Willie! my murderedWillie!" He had proceeded but a few paces, when he fell with his faceupon the ground. In the wretched criminal he discovered his lost, hisonly son. The miserable old man was conveyed, in a state ofinsensibility, to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, where I visited him thenext day: he seemed to suffer much, and in a few hours he died with ashudder, and the word _procrastination_ on his tongue. 

THE TEN OF DIAMONDS. 

At length I reached the Moated Grange, on a visit to my friend Graeme. But since I am to speak a good deal of this place, I may as well explainthat it was misnamed. There was no moat, nor had there been for ahundred years; but round the old pile--hoary, and shrivelled, andpalsied enough, in all conscience, for delighting the mole-eye of anyantiquarian hunks--- there was a visible trace of the old ditch in ahollow covered with green sward going all round the house, which hollowwas the only place clear of trees. And these trees! They stood for amile round, like an army of giants seventy feet high, all intent, itwould seem, upon choking the poor old pile, throwing their big arms overthe hollow, swinging them to and fro, and dashing their points againstthe panes as the wind listed. It would come by-and-by to be a hard taskfor the stone and lime victim to hold its place, with its sinews of runmortar, against these tyrants of the wood. And then they were as full ofnoises as Babel itself--noises a thousand times moreheterogeneous--croaking, chirping, screeching, cawing, whistling, billing, cooing, cuckooing. "What a place to live in!" I thought, freshas I was from town, "where, if there are noises, one knows something oftheir meaning--maledictory, yea, devilish as it often is, expressive ofthe passions of men which will never sleep. But these! what could onemake of such a _tintamarre_? Nothing but the reflection--that is, if youhappen to be a philosopher, which, thank God, I am not--that not onenote of all this rural oratorio is without its intention; and thus wealways satisfy ourselves. But when we run the matter up a littlefurther, we find it a very small affair: two responses, one to each oftwo chords vibrating for ever and ever throughout all nature--pleasureand pain, pain and pleasure, turn by turn--the last pain being death!"

"How can you live here, Graeme?" I said, as we stood under the oldporch, looking out, or rather having our look blocked up by thethickness, and our ears deaved by the eternal screeching and cawing offive thousand crows overhead. 

"There's gloom everywhere where man is, " he replied, "and screechingowls in every brain. You can't get quit. " Then, lowering his voice, "Iam haunted, and yet live here in this Moated Grange! The difference isthis: in the town the gaslight and eternal clatter distract a man likeme who is plagued from within; here I find some concord between theinside and the out, only the owls in the inside are more grotesque andhorrible. "

"Well, Graeme, " said I, "it is needless to disguise what brought mehere. The secret is out. The choke-damp has got wind. If the idiot hadnot blown his brains out, it would have been nothing. You could havepaid him back, and he might now have had both his money and his brains. "

"Got wind!" cried he, clutching me by the breast of the coat with thefury of a highwayman or a spasmodic actor. "Did the villain Ruggieritell you?"

"No. "

"So far well, " he added, taking a long pull with his lungs, as if he hadgot quit of an attack of asthma; "but though I may satisfy the widow, how am I to appease Heaven? Come, " he added, again seizing me with aforce in which there was a tremble, "I want to ease my mind. You are myoldest friend, and a load divided is more easily carried. "

And leading the way into the parlour, where the fire had got into a finered heat, and was sending a glare through the ruby and golden contentsof several strangely-shaped bottles on the table, he threw himself on achair on the one side, I taking one on the other. A few minutes ofsilence intervened. 

"If it be as painful for you, " he continued, "to hear a confession as itis for me to make it, you may help yourself to bear the infliction bypouring into your stomach some of that Burgundy. I will take none. Ihave fire enough in my brain already;" and he pushed the bottle to me. 

"You were a bit of a blackleg yourself, " he continued, as he threwhimself back in the arm-chair, and compressed his chest with his foldedarms till the blood seemed to mount to his face. "You were present atthat game where I took the five thousand by a trick from Gourlay. Youknow, as a gambler yourself, that all the tribe are by constitutioncheats. It is folly to speak of an honest gambler. The passion is a tenthousand times distilled selfishness, with no qualm of obligation to Godor religion to keep it in check--only a little fear of that bugbear, society. Our club at the 'Red Lion' all knew this in our souls; butevery one of us knew also that the moment he would be discoveredcheating, he would be scorched with our hatred and contempt. He mustleave our pure society on the instant--not of course that he was anyworse than the rest of us, but only that he was unfortunate in beingdiscovered. That night Gourlay and I were demons. We had baffled eachother, and drank till our brains seethed, though our countenances andspeech betrayed nothing but the extreme of coolness. He had won athousand of me, and hounded me from post to pillar, offering to becleared out by my _skill_, as he called it sneeringly. The fellow, inshort, hated me, because the year before, at Baden-Baden, I had takentwo thousand out of him, and would not give him his revenge. "

"He must have thought you honest, " said I; "otherwise he would not havethus badgered you to play. "

"No; he had not the generosity to think me honest. I repeat, no gamblerever thinks another gambler honest, and he lies when he says so. He knewhimself to be a rogue, and thought it diamond in the teeth of diamond;"and, pausing and meditating, he repeated the word, "diamond--diamond--diamond. "

I looked at him in surprise. He continued to keep up the cuckoo sound, trying to laugh, and yet totally unable to accomplish even a cackle, asif some internal force clutched the diaphragm and mocked him, so thathis efforts were reduced to a gurgling as in cynanche--like a dogchoking with a rope round his craig, the sounds coming jerking out inbarks, and dying away again in yelps and whines. 

"You will know presently why that word produces these strange effectsupon me, " he at length contrived to be able to say. "Nor less the formof the figure as painted in these hell-books. It is blazoned everywhere. The devil wears it in fiery lines on his face as he hounds me a-nightsthrough these thick woods. Yet I am not afraid of it--rather court it, as if I yearned for the burning pain of its red signature in, and in, and in to my brain, as far as thought goes. "

"Have you got mad, Graeme?" I ejaculated. "What has the figure of adiamond, or of ten diamonds----"

"_Ten_, you would say?" he immediately cried, as he started up, andimmediately threw himself down; "_the_ ten, if you dared. You arecommissioned by the powers yonder--you, you, too, along with the others, including the devil. "

"I have no wish to be in the same commission with that great personage, "said I, with a very poor attempt to laugh, for I felt anxious about myfriend. "I gave him up when I threw his books into the fire, and sworenever more to touch the unhallowed thing. "

I perceived that my attempt at humour increased his excitement. "Repeatthe words, " he cried. "Say 'the ten of diamonds' right out with openmouth, and repeat them a thousand times, so as to give me ear-proof thatthe powers yonder, " pointing to the roof, "are against me. "

At this moment the door of the parlour was opened by some timid hand. 

"Come hither, my pretty Edith, " he said, in a calmer voice, as a littlecherub-looking child, with a head so like as if, after the fashion ofDanäe's, it had been powdered by Jupiter with gold dust, and a pair ofblue eyes, as if the said god, in making them, had tried to emulate thewing of the Halcyon in a human orb, and intended, moreover, the lightthereof to calm the storm in those of her father. 

And so it did, to a certain extent; for Edith got upon his knee, and, putting her arms round his neck, kept peering with those eyes into thevery pupils of her father's, till the light of innocence, softening therigid nerve, enabled them to regain somewhat of their natural lustre. 

"What did Trott, the crazy girl who spaes fortunes, give you, Edith?"and coruscations began again to mix with the softer light. 

"A card, " replied the girl, as she undid her embrace, and, casting herhead to a side, viewed him timidly. 

"She has been frightened, " thought I, "by some consequences resultingfrom the same question put at some former time. "

"And what was the name of the card?" he continued. 

But the girl was now on her guard. She hesitated, and struggled to getaway. 

"Tell this gentleman, then. "

"The ten of diamonds, " cried she; and no sooner were the words out thanshe fled, like a beam of light chased by the shadow of a tombstone. 

"You see how it is, " continued Graeme, getting into his formerexpression: "through this channel, this innocent medium, this creaturethe fruit of my loins, the idol of my heart, is the lightning of reproofhurled. A wandering idiot is prompted by the very inspiration of herimbecility to put into the hands of my child the emblem of mywickedness, that she in her love might place it before my eyes, there todevelop the sin-print in the dark camera of my mind. No wonder she isalarmed at the mention of the words, for she read the horror produced inme when she held up what she called the pretty picture in my face. But, thank God! thank God!"----

And he fell for a moment into meditation. 

"For what?" said I, as my wonder increased. 

"That her mother, who is within a week of her confinement, knows nothingof this mystery. "

I was silent. I might have said, "What mystery?" but I would only haveirritated him. 

"Rymer!"

I started. I was looking into the fire, with my ear altogether his, yetthe strange mention of my name startled me. 

"What could infamy--infamy, with just a beam of consciousness to tellit was infamy, and no more but that beam--think and feel to beworshipped by purity and love? I have shrunk from the embrace of thatwoman with a recoil equal to that produced by the enfolding of a snake. "

"Though she knows not, and may never know, anything of this affair whichhas taken such a hold of you?" said I, rather as a speaking automaton, forced to vocabulate. 

"The very reason why I recoil and shudder. "

I had made a mistake--I would not risk another. "The man has got intothe enfolding arms of mania, " I thought, "and I must be chary. "

"Will you keep in your remembrance, " he continued, "the words uttered byEdith, and how she came by them? Will you?"

"Yes. "

"Then take another glass; you will need it, and another too. "

I obeyed not quite so mechanically. The Burgundy was better than theconversation, and I made the pleasure of the palate compensate for thepain of the ear. 

He now drew out his watch, and, going to the window, withdrew thecurtains. The shades of night had fallen. It looked black as Tartarus, contrasted with the light within. 

"Come here!" he cried; and when I had somewhat reluctantly obeyed what Iconsidered the request of one whose internal sense had got a jerk fromsome mad molecule out of its orbit in the brain--"Do you see anything?"

"Yes, " said I--"a big black negative; but as for anything positive, youmight as well look into a coal-pit and find what philosophers do in thewells of truth. There's nothing to be seen. "

"No? Look there--there! See, " pointing with his finger, and clutching metremulously, "once more--the traces as vivid as ever! See!"

I verily did think I saw something luminous, but it quickly disappeared. "Oh, probably the reflection of a lantern, " I said. 

"Yes, a magic one, " he replied sneeringly. 

"I know of no more magical lantern than a man's head, " I replied, alittle disconcerted by his sneer. "Chemists say there's more phosphorusin the brain than anywhere else; and so I sometimes think. "

He made no reply, but, seizing me by the coat, dragged me after him ashe hurried out of the room, and making for a back door, led me out, bareheaded as I was, into the wood. The darkness had waxed topitchiness, and the noises were hushed. The crows had gone to roost; andhad it not been for some too-hoos of the jolly owl, sounding his horn ashe rejoiced that the hated sun had gone to annoy other owls in the west, the silence would have been complete. But, in truth, I hate silence aswell as darkness, and have no more sympathy with the followers ofPythagoras than I have with the triumph of the blind Roman who silencedthe covey of pretty women, in the heat of their condolences for hisblindness, by reminding them that they forgot he could feel in the dark. I thought more of the fire inside, and the bottle of Burgundy, on whichI had made as yet only a small impression. 

"If I want darkness, I can as well shut my eyes, " said I peevishly, "andI would even have the advantage of some phosphorescent touches of thefancy. "

"Will you see that with your eyes shut?" he exclaimed triumphantly, ashe bent his body forward to an angle of forty-five, and pointed withhis finger to an object clearly illumined, and exhibiting distinctly alarge card, with ten red diamonds sharply traced upon it. The advantagehe had got over me was lost in the rapture of his gaze; and he seemed tobe charmed by the apparition, for he began to move slowly forward, stillpointing his finger, and without apparently drawing a breath. Though alittle taken by surprise for the instant, it was not easy for me to giveup my practical wisdom, which, as a matter of course, pointed to atrick. 

"You do see it, then?" said he. 

"Surely, " said I. "There is no mistake it is the figure of the ten ofdiamonds, probably stuck upon a turnip lantern. "

"I did not ask you for a banter, " he replied angrily. "I can draw my ownconclusions. All I wanted was to satisfy myself that I was free from amonomaniacal illusion. We cannot both be mad; besides, you're a sceptic, and the testimony of a sceptic's eyes is better than the sneer of histongue. "

Still he proceeded, I following, and the apparition retreating. "I toldyou to remember what Edith said, " he continued, as he still pointed hisfinger; "and I fancy you can never forget that before you. The twothings are wide apart. "

"And so are the two ends of a rope with which a man hangs himself, " saidI. 

"It is gone!" cried my friend, without noticing my remark. "It hasreceded into that infinite from whence it was commissioned to earth tostrike its lightning upon the eye of a falling, erring, miserablemortal. "

"It is gone, " said I; "and I am gone also--to finish my bottle ofBurgundy, which I have as little doubt was commissioned from finitudeto strike a little fire into the heart of another erring mortal, not atthis moment perfectly happy. "

And I made my way as quick as possible into the parlour, glad to getquit of the chill of the night air. Meanwhile, there appeared signs ofsome extraordinary movement in the other parts of the house, the natureof which Graeme probably ascertained as he came along the lobby, for Iheard bustling and earnest conversation; and presently little Edith camestepping in beside me, with something very mysterious in her blue eyes, far too mysterious for being confided to loud words, and so a whispertold me that her mother was taken ill, and that Dr. Rogers had been sentfor. This little bit of information carried more to my mind than itbrought away from Edith's. I knew before that Mrs. Graeme was on the eveof confinement, and it now appeared she had been taken in labour. I saw, too, that my visit had not been very well timed, and the worse thatGraeme himself was in the extraordinary frame of mind in which I foundhim--unfit for facing the dangers, repaying the affections, performingthe duties, and receiving the honours or enjoying the hopes of hissituation. A rap at the door was the signal for Edith's departure, withthe words on her tongue that she knew the doctor's knock. I was now, Ithought, to be left to myself; nor was I displeased, for I wanted alounge and a meditation; though of the latter I could not see that Icould make much, if any, more than confirming myself against allpreternaturals as agents on earth, however certain their existence maybe beyond the mystic veil that divides the two worlds. I had knownGraeme's crime and Gourlay's self-murder; but the crime was a trickamong blacklegs, and the suicide was the madness of a gambler, who hadrisked his money and was ruined at the moment he wanted to ruin another. Surely Heaven had something else to do with its retributive lightningsthan employ them, in subversion of all natural laws, in a cause soinferior in turpitude to others that every hour pass into oblivion, withmore of a mark of natural, and less or none of supernaturalchastisement. I thought I might be contented with such a view of theseprodigies as might quickly consign them to the limbo of men'smachinations; yet somehow or other--perhaps the Burgundy bottle, if itcould have spoken, like that of Asmodeus, might have helped thesolution--I got dreamy, and of course foolish, raising objectionsagainst my own conclusions, and instituting an _alter ego_ to argueagainst myself for Graeme's theory. It has always seemed strange to me, that though mankind hate metaphysics, they are all naturalmetaphysicians, especially when a little _wined_. Perhaps the truereason may be, that as wine came from the gods, it is endued with thepower of raising us to its source. At least, our aspirations, from being_devine_, become wonderfully _divine_, so that supernatural agencies waxless difficult to our imaginations; and while we are ten times moreready to meet a ghost, we are as many times more ready to admit theirpossibility. But the end of these grand and elevated conditions isgenerally sleep and an ugly nightmare; and though my case was anexception as regards the latter, I awoke in not a very happy mood, justas Graeme entered the room and told me it was twelve o'clock. As Irubbed my eyes, he sat down in his chair, and seemed inclined to courtsilence; but it was clear he could not achieve repose. 

I felt no inclination to add to his apparent disturbance by any remarkson what I had seen; but it struck me as remarkable, that, while he gotinto contortions and general restlessness, putting his hand to his brow, throwing one leg over another, closing his hands, and heaving longsighs, he never so much as thought it worth his pains to ask my opinionof the scene in the wood. It seemed as if he was so thoroughly convincedof a divine manifestation against him, that he despised any exceptionalscepticism as utterly beneath his notice or attention--thoroughlyengrossed, as he appeared to be, with the terrible sanction of a portentof some coming retribution. His silence in some degree distressed me, asI thought he resented my levity in commenting upon his convictions; soit was with some relief that Dr. Rogers came in and sat down at thetable, apparently to wait for a call to the bedroom. A man this ofostentatious gloom, --too grave to deign to be witty, too sanctified tostoop to be cheerful, and therefore not the man I could have wished tosee as the medical adviser, and perhaps the religious confidant, of myfriend and his wife. A temperate man, too, by his own confession, pronounced over the top of a bottle; and he drank as if for health, while his manner of beslabbering the glass with his thick lips indicateda contempt for its confined capacity; a tumbler would have suited himbetter; and he waxed apparently graver when the delightful aroma of theBordeaux grape fondled his nostrils. We got into supernaturalsimmediately, though how the subject was introduced I cannot remember;but Dr. Rogers was a grave and heavy advocate for divine manifestation, and Graeme's ear, circumcised to delicacy, hung upon his thick lips. Iasked for instances beyond the domain of the addled brains of old women, or the excited fancies of young; and Graeme looked at me intently, without saying a word. 

"I have seen hundreds die, " said the doctor, "ay, strong men, thetissues of whose brain were, in comparison of those of your old womenand young enthusiasts, as iron wires to pellicles of flesh. And how dothey die if they are Christians, as all men ought to be? What is therein death, think you, to subvert the known laws of physiology? We mightsuppose, that as the spirit is about to leave the mortal frame, it willbe fitful, and flit from tissue to tissue, and gleam and die away, toflare up again in some worldly image, perhaps, of the past; as where Ihave known it show the face of an early beloved one, long since gone, inall its first glory, to the eyes of a lover. Such are mere exceptions, from which no rule can be drawn; but they occur, and we admit them asconsonant enough to natural causes. So far we all agree; but where isthat consonance in all those numerous cases which have come under my ownobservation, where the man--a strong man even in death--is rapt into avision set in a halo of light, and showing forth, as an assurance ofdivine favour, the very form and features of Him who died on the crossof Calvary? Is there anything in physiology to account for this? Andthen it occurs so often as almost to amount to a rule. "

"I have too much respect for religion, " replied I, "to throw a doubt oncertain workings of the spirit in that mysterious condition when ithovers between the two worlds, and when it can hardly be said to belongto earth; but the case is entirely different where the common agenciesare all working through their fitted and natural means. We can never saythat any of those means are superseded--only others are substituted; andwe do not understand the substitution. "

"You are unfortunate, " said the doctor, with a triumphant gravity. "Ifyou admit that supernatural agencies ever have--in any stage of theworld, in any place, way, or manner, or by any means--had to do withearthly things, or have to do in those days, or will have to do in anyfuture time or place on the earth's surface, your admission closes upyour mouth for ever. "

"To do, in those days, on this night, not many hours agone!" criedGraeme, with rolling eyes. "Who cares for admissions of those who see, when one's own eyes are nearer the brain than are the eyes or lips ofhim who admits, or of him who denies?"

"Not hours ago!" said the doctor, fixing his big eyes on the face ofGraeme; "and so near a birth?"

"Oh, she knows nothing, " said Graeme. 

"And I am supremely ignorant, " said I. 

"Of what?" inquired Rogers, turning his face again to Graeme, as if hewould take him into his mouth. 

But just as he expected an answer, a slight rap sounded from the door. Rogers himself opened it, and found that the call was for him. Graemeand I were left again together, but not to resume the former silence. 

"I did not ask you, " said he, "what you thought of the figure in thewood, for I expected nothing but a sceptical sneer. You have heardRogers. He is a shrewd fellow, belonging to a profession not remarkablefor credulity. "

"Answer me this, " said I: "Did no one know the duplicate card you usedin the cheat?"

"You were present and Ruggieri, no others; did you know it?"

"No. "

"Then do you know that Ruggieri is dead in Italy? and even if he hadmore penetration than you, the secret died with him. But, I tell you, hecould not have known. Nothing transpired at the play to show that aduplicate card was used at all, far less to show that it was aparticular card. "

"You may stagger me, " said I, "but never can convince me that you arenot having a nice game played off upon you, something similar to yourown; only in place of duplicates, I fear there are triplicates. Whymight not Gourlay have been aware of the fact you think only known toyourself?"

"And yet have shot himself as a ruined gambler?"

"Certainly it is more probable, " said I, somewhat caught, "that he wouldhave insisted upon your repaying him, under the threat of exposure. Yetone does not know what a man may do or not do, even if we knew thecircumstances. Two doves will not pick up for their nests a straw eachof the same shape. But I believe it is now settled, that no case ofmystery has ever happened, or can be supposed by the most ingeniousimagination, where the chances are more for supernatural agency than forhuman ingenuity or chance. The latter I put away out of your case, though the marvels of coincidence are stranger than fiction. Every oneof us has a little record within his heart of such experiences. I havebeen startled by a coincidence into a five minutes' belief insupernatural agency. One opens a book of six hundred pages, and catches, on the instant, the passage for which he looked the whole day before. Anactor dies in ranting 'there is another and a better world. ' A soldieris saved from the punishment of death for sleeping on his post, by thefact of having been able to say that St. Paul's on a certain nightstruck thirteen, which it never did before. Andrew Gordon, the miser, drew a prize of twenty thousand pounds for the number 2001, which hedreamed of the night previous he bought the ticket. A shepherd was thediscoverer of the Australian diggings, by having taken up a piece ofwhat he considered quartz to throw at his dog called Goldy. Humanhistory is full of such things; but, marvellous as they are, they arenot more so than the ways by which man manufactures mysteries, and getsthem believed as the work of Heaven. As to that illuminated figure I sawin the wood"----

My speech was interrupted by a strange sound from the other end of thehouse. Graeme started to his feet. It was not one of pain coming from asick-room, but rather one of surprise, and there seemed a bustle amongthe servants. The door opened, and a woman's face, with two wild staringeyes, looked in. "Come here, sir, " she cried, and disappeared upon theinstant. 

"Something more, " ejaculated Graeme, as he hurried away. I was allowedno time for an absurd monologue. Graeme was not absent many minutes, when he hurried in as he had hurried out, but his face was not thatwhich he took with him, braced up into surprise and fear, as that was. He was now as pale as death's pale horse, and nearly as furious. His eyebeamed an unnatural light--his breathing was quick and snatchy, as ifevery inspiration and expiration pained the lungs. He seemed to wishsome one to bind him with ropes, that he might escape the vibrations ofhis muscles, and be steadied to be able to speak. 

"Be calm, " said I, taking him by the shoulders; "what new discovery isthis? Nothing wrong with Mrs. Graeme, I hope?"

"The child, " he cried; but he could get no further. 

"The child is"--

"Is what?" said I. 

"Is marked on the back with the figure of the ten of diamonds. "

"Pity it was not marked where it will wear its pockets, " said I; "butit will assuredly be a very fortunate child, nevertheless, and shallbear a load of diamonds on his back like the Arabian Alcansar. "

"Are you mad?" he cried. 

"Yes, with reason, " I replied. "You know, nothing appears sooutrageously insane to a madman, as that same God's gift called reason. They say, those who are bitten by the tarantula, and get dancing mad, think the wondering crowd about them raving maniacs. And there was theweeping philanthropist in the asylum of Montrose, in Scotland, who weptall day, and could not be consoled, because of all the people outsidethe asylum being mad. "

"But, " he gasped, "the thing is there. "

"No doubt on't, " said I, "and you ought to be grateful. I have readsomewhere of one John Zopyrus, who went mad when he heard of a son beingborn to him; and here you are not mad, though you have a son (I hope)born to you, with ten diamonds besides. "

"But the thing is there, " he again cried. 

"Ay, there's the rub, my dear fellow; the rub is there--let the rub _be_there; that is, go and rub, and the thing rubbed will not be there afterthe rubbing. "

"Madness, man! It is a true mother's mark. "

"Verily, a real _noevus maternus_" said I, "impressed by an avengingangel on the mother's brain, and transferred by nature's daguerreotypeto the back of the child. "

"You have said it. "

"Nay, it is you who have said it, " I continued; "and I will even supposeit is a mother's mark, to please you for a little, though it has no morethat character than this sword-prick in my left cheek. But taking it inyour own way, I have a theory I could propound to you about these marks. We say that the soul is in the body. It is just as true that the bodyis in the soul. Every member of the entire physical person isrepresented in the brain, though we cannot discern the form in thesewhite viscera. Now, see you, if a man loses his finger, his son will notbe awanting in that member. But there are cases where the want of amember is hereditary. Why? Because the member was not represented in thecerebral microcosm of the first deficient person. From this smallepitome in the brain, the child is an extended copy--_extended_ from amathematical point, where all the members and lineaments are _intended_. So, when the fancy of the mother is working in the brain--say, inrealizing some external image--it will impress it in the cerebral person(woman) there epitomized; and if she is in a certain way, the image willgo to a corresponding part of the foetal point, which is the epitome ofthe child. A most ingenious, and satisfactory, and simple theory, whichwill explain the ten-of-diamond naevus, for"----

"Dreadful imbecility!" he exclaimed, as he threw himself on his chair;"most unaccountable and cruel trifling with a notable visitation ofretributive justice, indicated by visible signs of terrible import tohim who must bear the cross, and be reconciled to an angry Deity. "

"Against all that may tend to penitence for a past crime, " said I, getting grave, where gravity might avail for good, "I have nothing tosay. But Heaven does not work through the mean of man's deceit andstratagem, and the good that comes of fear goes with returning courage. "

Conscious of getting into a puling humour, I had no objection to aninterruption by the entrance of Rogers, who, having finished his work, was probably intent upon the gratification which generally follows. 

"I wish you joy of the boy and the diamonds, " he said, as he seizedGraeme by the half-palsied hand. "The nurse is reconciled to the omen ofa fortune; and surely never was omen more auspicious, for no sooner hadthe strange indication shown its mute vaticination than it disappeared, that there might be no deduction of beauty from the favourite of thegods. " And drawing, with his lumbering hand, the tumbler near him, hefilled it two-thirds up of pure wine, and presently his lips grappledwith it like a camel at the bucket in the desert, with such effect thatthe contents changed vessels in a twinkling. 

"Disappeared!" said I musingly. 

"Yea, temperance hath her demands on occasions, " said he, thinking Ialluded to the exit of the wine, and not the ominous mark; "for there betwo kinds of this noble virtue, the jejune and the hearty, whereof theformer observes no plethoric gratifications, and the other is not averseto an extreme of cordial indulgence. "

"Disappeared!" said I in a harping way, once again, "and left the skindiscoloured. "

"But it was there, and I saw it with these eyes, " cried Graeme, "and thedoctor saw it, and Betha, but, thank God, not the mother. "

"The vouchsafing of the eyes is an easy task, " drawled Rogers. "Thetruth of present fact is of the moment of experience as regards theseer; but, as a moral entity, it never dies. The great Author of naturehas his intention in these mysterious signs. We know only that there aretwo kinds of these God's finger-touches--the enduring and theevanescent. That we have now witnessed was of the latter kind, which wealso call superficial in opposition to the other, which is painted onthe _rete mucosum_, and never goes off. The difference of indicationswe know not, further than that a mysterious purpose is served by both. But might I ask if ever there was any occasion on which the figure ofthis card might, as connected with some thrilling incident, have beenimpressed upon the imagination of the mother?"

"Never, " cried Graeme, as he shook violently. 

"Then it betokens fortune to the heir of the Moated Grange, " saidRogers. 

"It betokens vengeance!" roared Graeme, no longer able to containhimself; and he began to pace rapidly the room. Then stopping beforeme--

"How long will you torment me with your scepticism? Here, Betha, " hecried to the woman, who at the instant again called Rogers, "what didyou see on the back of the boy?"

"The ten of diamonds, sir, " replied she, evidently frightened by thewild eyes of her master. "But you are not to be feared. Do I not knowGod's signs when I see them fresh from his very finger? I have seen themaforetime; and no man or woman on earth, no, even our minister, willconvince me they are meant for nothing. This bairn will be a rich man, but it will not be by the devil's books; for he who made the mark doesnot tempt to evil by promises printed on the bodies of them he loves. "

"I want not this drivelling, " said her master, on whom her reading ofthe sign had an effect the very opposite of that intended. "You're afool, but you have eyes. Say, once for all, you saw it, and will swear. Take her words, Rymer. "

"As clear as I see the mark on your cheek, sir, " she said, addressingme. "It was not from one who loved you so well as your mother did whenshe bore you, you got that mark. "

"I got it from a villain called Ruggieri, " I replied, caring nothingfor the start I produced in Graeme, but keeping my eye on the face ofRogers. 

I will say nothing of what I observed on that long, sombre, saturnineindex. It was an experiment on my part, and I might have foundsomething, merely because I expected it; nor do I think Graeme knew myobject, though he felt the words as a surprise. 

"And who is Ruggieri?" said the doctor, by way of putting a simplequestion. 

"_Perhaps_ an Italian, " said I. "Rogers is, they say, the Scotchrepresentative of that name. "

"It is a lie, sir!" cried the grave son of Aesculapius; but finding hehad committed a mistake, he beat up an apology close upon the heels ofhis insult. "I beg your pardon; I simply meant that the two names aredifferent, and that you were out in your etymology. "

"I am satisfied, " I replied. 

"And so am I, " growled the doctor, as he shuffled out, followed byBetha. 

"What the devil do you mean?" said the colonel, coming up, and lookingme sternly in the face. "Is not this business serious enough for me andthis house already, without the mention to that man, who knows nothingof me or of my history, of a name hateful to both you and me?"

"At present I have no intention of telling you what I meant byintroducing that name in the presence of Rogers. "

"More mystery!" said he. 

"No mystery--all as plain as little Edith's card she got from Trott, orthe blazon in the wood, or the mark on the child's back. But I do notwish to dwell longer on a subject which gives you so much pain. I am tobe off in the morning, and I should wish, before I go, to know what isto be the issue of all this wonderful working. "

Graeme had now seated himself; and I resumed my chair also, to wait ananswer, which his manner seemed to indicate might be slow and delicate. We looked, in the dim light of the room, at two in the morning, like twowizards trying our skill in working out some scheme of _diablerie_; yet, in reality, how unlike! For though we had both been gamblers, andconsequently bad men, we had for years renounced the wild ways of anill-regulated youth, and settled down to tread, with pleasure toourselves and profit to others, the decent paths of virtue. 

"I am resolved, " said Graeme at length----

"On what?" I inquired. 

"On making amends. That money, which by means of the substituted card Itook from Gourlay, sticks like a bone-splint in the red throat of mypenitence. I cannot pray myself, nor join Annabel, nor listen to Edith, when they send up their supplications to that place where mercy is, andwhere, too, vengeance is--vengeance which, in the very form of mypictured crime, dogs me everywhere, as you have seen, though aphilosophical pride prevents you from giving faith to what you haveseen--vengeance which, though using no earthly instruments, is yet thestronger, and more terrible to me, for that very circumstance that itbrings up my conscience, and parades its pictured whisperings before myvision, scorching my brain, and making me mad--vengeance, breaking nobones, nor lacerating flesh, nor spilling blood, yet going to the heartof the human organism, among the fine tissues where begin the rudimentsof being, and whence issue the springs of feeling, sympathy, hope, love, and justice, all of which it poisons, and turns into agonies. Yes, sir, vengeance which, claiming the assistance of the fairest virtues, conjugal love and angelic purity, makes them smite with shame, so thatit were even a relief to me that the wife of my bosom were wicked, andthe child of my affections a creature of sin. What are these signs thathaunt me but instigators to redemption? and can I hesitate when Heavenasks obedience?"

"A useless harangue, " said I, "when you have the means of savingyourself. Pay the money, read your Bible, and the signs will cease. "

"You have said it. I will pay the money; but I do not know where thewoman Gourlay lives. "

"That is not a difficult matter. Where money is to be paid, therecipient will start out of the bosom of the earth. I am about sick ofthis chamber of mysteries--though no mysteries to me; and I go to bed. Idoubt if you may expect to see me at the breakfast table in themorning. "

"Will you leave me in this condition?" he said, with an imploring eye. 

"You will hear from me. Good night. "

In the midst of all these supernaturals, I remained myself prettynatural--got naturally among the comfortable bed-clothes, fell naturallyasleep, and, in consequence of late hours, slept naturally longer than Iintended. I started at seven, got my bag, and, without seeing Graeme, set out for C---- town, got breakfast, and then took the stage for aseaport not very far distant. Having arrived at my destination, I soughtout the Eastergate, a dirty street inhabited by poor people, mountedthree pair of stairs till I saw through a slate-pane, knocked at a door, and was met by a woman, with an umbrageously bearded face peering outfrom the side of her head-gear--that is, there was a head there inaddition to her own. 

"The devil!" said the man. "How did you find me out?"

"By the trail of evil, " I said, as I walked in, and shut the doorbehind me. 

"Did you not know I was dead?" he continued, by way of desperateraillery. 

"Yes, the devil was once reported to be dead and buried in a certainlong town, but it was only a feint, whereby to catch the unwary Whigs. Let us have seats. I want a little quiet conversation with you both. "

We seemed rather a comfortable party round the fire. 

"Ruggieri, " said I, "do you know that scar?"

"I have certainly seen it before, " replied he, with the utmostcomposure. 

"Well, you know the attack you made upon me at Brussels, for theconvenient purpose of getting buried along with your victim a certainlittle piece of dirty paper I have in my pocket, whereby you becamebound to pay to me a thousand florins which I lent you, on the faith ofone I took for a gentleman. "

"The scar I deny, " he replied, unblushingly; "and as for the bit ofpaper, if you can find any one in these parts who can prove that thesignature thereto was written by this hand belonging to this person nowsitting before you, you will accomplish something more wonderful thanfinding me out here. " And he laughed in his old boisterous way. 

"The more difficult, I daresay, " replied I, as I fixed a prettyinquisitive gaze on him, "that you have a duplicate to your real name ofCharles Rogers. "

"'Tis a lie!" he exclaimed. "My father was--was--yes--an artist inBologna--the cleverest magician in Italy. "

"And that is the reason, " said I calmly, "that your brother the doctorworks his tricks so cleverly at the Moated Grange. "

Subtle officers accomplish much by attacks of surprise--going home witha fact known to the criminal to be true, but supposed by him to beunknown to all the world besides. I had acted on this principle, and theeffect was singular. His tongue, which had laid in a stock of nervousfluid for roaring like a steam-boiler a little opened, was palsied. Heturned on me a blank look; then, directing his eye to the woman, "Youinfernal hag, " he exclaimed, "all this comes from you!"

"I deny it, " said the woman, as she left his side and came round tomine. "But I now know, what I always suspected, that you are a villain. Sir, " she continued, "this man, and his brother Dr. Rogers, prevailedupon me to give them a paper, to enable them to get out of ColonelGraeme the money he won from my husband. I believe they have got it, andthat they are keeping it from me. "

"They have not got it, " said I, "and never will. The money is yours, andwill be paid to you, if to any. "

"Thank God!" she exclaimed. "No good could come out of the designs ofthis man and his brother. They made it up to terrify the colonel"----

A look from the man stopped her; but the broken sentence was to me avolume. They sat and looked lightnings at each other; and I contentedmyself with thinking, that when a rotten tree splits, bears catch honey. 

"Oh, I'm not to be frightened, " she continued, as she gathered upcourage to dare the villain. "I will tell all about the ten of diamondswhich I heard made up between them. "

"You most haggard of all haggard hags!" cried the man, as his fury rose, "do you know, that while I could have got you this money, I can cut youout of it? Was it the loss of the money, think ye, that made thewretched coward, your husband, shoot himself? No, it was conscience. They were a pair of villains. I know that Gourlay had a secreted card, whereby he was to blackleg Graeme, and that it was disappointment, shame, and conscience, working all together, that made him draw thetrigger to end a villanous life. But the game is up, " he continued, ashe rose and got hold of his hat; then standing erect and fearless, heheld out his finger, pointing to me--"Rymer!" he said impressively, butwith devilish calmness, "let your ears tingle as you think of me; itwill keep you in remembrance of a friend, who, when next he meets you, will embrace you _cordially_--about the heart, you know. Good night!"

"And well gone, " said the woman, as she heard the door slammed with anoise that shook the crazy tenement. "Oh! I am so happy you have come torelieve me of an engagement which I was ashamed of, and which would haveyielded me nothing; for their object was to force money out of yourfriend, and then divide it between them. "

"How did Rogers or Ruggieri find you out?" inquired I. 

"I cannot tell; the nose of a bloodhound has a finer sense than asheep-dog's. "

"And how did you come to know of the compact between the brothers?"

"They got unwary under wine drunk at that fir table. The doctor was themedical attendant of Colonel Graeme, and this gave him means of workingupon his conscience; and I know they have been at this work for a time. "

"But how did Ruggieri come to know about the ten of diamonds?"

"Oh, the card was found crumpled up under the table by Ruggierihimself, who, with you, was present at the play. He has the card at thismoment. I have seen it. But this is the first time I ever heard ofGourlay's intention to cheat. I will never believe that; but then I amhis widow, and may be too favourable to him, while Ruggieri was hisenemy, and may be too vindictive. "

"And how was the colonel to be applied to, after his conscience waswrought up to pay?"

"The doctor was to open the subject, and undertake to negotiate with me, to whom he was to hand over the money--one penny of which I never wouldhave received. "

"The matter is now in better hands, " said I. "Will you be staunch andfirm in detailing all you know of the scheme?"

"Yes, though I should not receive a farthing. "

"And you will be willing to go to the Moated Grange, and, if necessary, swear to those things?"

"I will; and, sir, serious though the whole affair has been to me--for Iam poor, and have children--I sometimes wondered, if I did not laugh, atthe queer, far-brought, devilish designs of the doctor. Oh, he is a verydragon that for cunning! I heard him say he would impress a paintedpiece of paper on the child's back, so as to leave a mark, and swear itwas a mother's mark, graven by the hands of the Almighty. Oh theblasphemy and wickedness of man!"

"Go, dress yourself, " said I, "and come with me to the Grange. "

"I will, if you can give me some minutes to get a neighbour to takecharge of George and Anne. " And away she went to get this familyarrangement completed, while I sat panting with desire to free my friendfrom the agony of his condition. 

It was about seven o'clock of that same evening that Mrs. Gourlay and Ireached the Moated Grange. I got her shown into an ante-room, to waitthe issue of my interview with Graeme. It happened that the doctor andhe were together, and it even seemed as if they were converging towardsa medium state of confidence. I could observe from the looks of thevictim that he had been so far at least drawn into a recital of facts(the nature of which it was not difficult for me to conjecture), for Iheard the word Gourlay fall from his lips, as the last of a sentencewhich my entry had cut short. Indeed, I may as well state here thatGraeme afterwards admitted to me that when I entered he was in the midstof a confession of the whole secret of the false play, to whichconfession he had been first driven by his internal monitor; andsecondly, led or rather pulled on by the arch-ambidexter, whose game itwas to cheat the cheater, and get the money from him upon some pretenceof seeking out Mrs. Gourlay and paying the money to her. I was, inshort, in the very nick of time, and could hardly help smiling at thestrange part I was playing in what was, as I thought, one of thoseserious melodramatic farces of which (in the Frenchman's sense) thisstrange world of laughter and groans is made up. 

"Dr. Rogers, " said I, after the customary greetings, "it is well I havefound you. I picked up a poor woman by the way who lay under the seizureof premature labour, and knowing the generosity of my friend, I broughther here for succour and relief. She is in the green parlour, and, Ifear, in exigency. Come. "

"May I see her?" said Graeme. 

"Certainly, for a moment, " said Rogers. "Ah! I rejoice at theseopportunities of employing the beneficence of our profession. Who knowsbut I may bring into the world one who will change the aspect of ahemisphere, and work out some great blessings to the human race!"

And following me, they arrived at the door of the green parlour. Iopened it. Rogers walked forward, Graeme followed, and I stood in themidst of the three. 

"Dr. Rogers--Mrs. Gourlay, an intimate friend of your brother, SignorRuggieri. "

"Colonel Graeme--Mrs. Gourlay, the widow of that unfortunate man, Ebenezer Gourlay. "

To which Mrs. Gourlay responded by a curtsey, deep and respectful. 

"I am master for the nonce. The door is locked, and Mrs. Gourlay must bedelivered of her child with the naevus of the ten of diamonds on itsback. "

And she was delivered, but not with the assistance of the doctor. Sheperformed her part well. By a little drawing out, on my part, I got herto tell her story; how she had got acquainted with the two brothers; howthey had laid their plans; how she came to know of the crumpled card, and the use they were to make of it; the trick of the impression on thechild's back; the forcing of the money from the colonel on the pretenceof paying it to her, with her conviction that she would never handle apenny of it. 

During the period of this extraordinary recital, it was my part to watchthe countenances of the two listeners. Graeme sat as if bound to hischair; every word of the woman seemed to work as a charm upon him, relieving him of the conviction he had been impressed with, that he wasspecially under the judgment of Heaven, without depriving him of theconsolation of a late penitence. Sometimes I caught his eye, and, Ifairly admit, I was wicked enough to indulge in a little muterisibility to give him confidence in the conclusions he was fast drawingfrom the somewhat garrulous narrative of the poor widow. 

As for the doctor, he held out like a Milo. From the first moment he sawthe woman he knew that the game was up with him, but he knew also, whatall hardened sinners know, that they owe it to the cacodaimon they obey, to deny everything to the last, as if they were afraid to show anyindication of what they consider the weakness of being good. We allowedhim to get quit upon the condition of silence on his part, for a prudentforbearance on ours. 

Mrs. Gourlay remained at the Grange for some time, whereby we had anopportunity of further ascertaining all the details of the machination. A sum of money was given to her, and Graeme's conscience was relieved, as well by this retribution as by a conviction to which we both came, that the game between him and Gourlay was rendered at least equal by thefact which we had both reason to believe, as stated by Ruggieri, thatGourlay himself intended to cheat, and that his death could be moreeasily accounted for on that theory than on any other. 

So far as peace could be brought to one truly penitent, that peace wasbrought; and many a time since I have admired, in the happiness of thefamily at the Grange, that exemplification of the promise of our blessedfaith, that there is no degree of guilt which may not be atoned for bythe heart that is contrite, and trusts to the mercy of Heaven throughthe eternally-ordained source. 

I may gratify a whim by informing the readers of the Border Tales thatthe secret of the mark on the child's back was never communicated toMrs. Graeme. The nurse had told her of the fact of the strangephenomenon, and she always clung to the belief that it was an omen ofgood fortune to the boy. But under what mysterious conditions is thechain of cause and effect kept up! The frequent allusion made by themother to the fact of the mark, drew her son's attention to the cards. He early became fond of playing with them, as boys do. The early feelinggerminated, and became a kind of passion, and I have reason to believehe became a gambler like his father, squandering away a great part ofhis patrimony. 

END OF VOL. XXII.