Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 18 October 1877 — Page 7

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PUT YOURSELF IN HIS PLACE.

A Novel of Thrilling Interest About the fireat Strikes in England. |r«

."4 BY CHARLES READE.

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Mtytt&ji

[Continued from List Issue.]

?K 'No that might put it into his But I wish 1 knew where he was.' Presently a servant brought the

head.

tea

Miss Cardan inquired al'ler Ir, Ra by. 'lie is gone out, Miss but he won't long. I was to tell von.'

Grace

felt terribly uneasy and restless!

rang the bell and asked for Jael Dence. The reply was that she had not been to the hall that dav.

But boon afterwards, Jael came up from village, and went into the kitchen of Raby. There she heard news that goon took her into the drawing-room. 'Oh'Miss,' said she, 'do you know where the Squire is? •Gone to the church? asked Grace

^Ayl'ancf all the sword dahcers at his b»ck.' And she stood theijey„4pd w|ung her hands with dismay.

The ancients had a proverb, 'Belt CI Id

an army of stags with a lion for their leader, than an army of lions with a stag for their leader.' The Cairnhope sword dancers, though stout fellows and strong against a mortal foe, were but stags against the supernatural yet, led by Guy Raby, they advanced upon the old church with a pretty bold trout, only they kepi twenty yards in their leader's rear. The order was to march in dead silence.

At the last turn in the road their leatiider suddenly halted, anJ, kneeling on one knee, waved to his men to keep quiet: he had seen several dark figures busy about the porch.

After many minutes of thrilling, yet chilling, expectation, he rose and told ,*• *his men, in a whisper, to follow bim again.

The pace was now expedited greatly, ,and still Mr. Raby, with his double-bar-relied gun in his hand, maintained a lead of some yards, and his men followed as noiselessly as they could, and made for the chuich: sure enough it was lighted inside.

The young man who was thus beset !bv two distinct bands of enemies, deserved a very different fate at" the^hands of his fellow-creatures. '•••i For, at that moment, though anything but happy himself, he was working some hours every day for the good of man-

'kind and was every day visiting as a friend the battered saw-grinder who had once put his own life in mortal peril.

He had not fathomed the letter Grace 'had sent him. He was a young man and !•. straightforward he did not understand the amiable defects of the female character. He studied every line of this letter, and it angered and almost disgusted him.

It was the letter of a lady but beneath .,4he surface of gent.eness and politeness -jay a proposal which he considered mean and cold-blooded. It lowered .his esteem ..for her.

His pride and indignation were roused, and battled with his love, and they were Raided by the healthy invigorating habits (b:1 'i!«jiito which Dr. Amboyne had at las,t in—

v*4?.yeigled

him, and so he resisted he wrote

*'i W "n'muie than 9ne letter in reply to Grace

Carden but, when he came to read

them over and compare them with her

's "gentle effusion, he was ashamed of his •.? harshness, and would not send the let,:ter. rf'- He fought on philanthropy in '."'Hillsborough, forging in Cairnhope

Church and still he dream*fr ?ed strange dreams now and then: for vj..^ho*'can work, both night and day, ^s

Arflthis man did—with impunity? One night he dreamed that he was I 1%, working at his forge, when suddenly the ^floor of the aisle burst, and a dead knight '^sprang trom the grave with a single bound, and stood erect before him, in ,K rusty armor: out of his heln*t looked two eves like black diamonds, and a nose ^TliKe a falcon's. Yet, by one of the droll if contradictions of a dream, this impetu*?/iiuou% warlike form no sooner opened its lips, then out i66ued a lackadaisical whine. *9il? .,r "See my breastplate, good sir," said he.

wag

,«

I v'

bright as silver when I made it—

-fr I was like you, I forged my own weapii ^ons, forged them with these hands.—But now the damps of the grave have rusted I1 V* it. Odsbodikins! is this a thing for a good knight to appear in before his judge?

And to-morrow is Doomsda), so they all say." Then Henry pitied the poor simple knight (in his dream), and offered his •services to polish the corslet up a bit agamst that great occasion. He pointed towards his forge, and the'kpight marched t* it, in three wide steps that savored strongly of theatrical burlesqe. But the moment he saw the specimens of Henry's work lying about, ne drew back, and wheeled upon the man of the day with huge di&ain, 'What,' said he, 'do you

forge toys! Learn that a gentleman can only forge those weapons of war that gentlemen'do use, And I took you for a Raby!'

With these bitter words he. vanished,

with flashing eyes and a l*ok of magnificcnt scorn, and left his fiery, haughty features imprinted clearly on Henry's memory.

One evening, as he plied his hammer, he heard alight sound at a window, in an interval of his own noise. He looked hastily up, and caught a momentary sight of a face disappearing from the window. It was gone like a "a®b even as he caught sight of it.

Transi«yjt as the glance was, it shook hiiii greatly. He heated a bar of iron

white hot ai one end, and sallied out into the night. But there was not a creature to be seen.

Then he called aloud. "Who there? No reply. 'Jael, was it you?' Dead silence.

He returned to his work, and set the appearance down to an ocular illusion. But his dreams had been so vivid, that this really seemed only one step more into the realms of hallucination.

This

was an unfortunate view of the

matter.

On old

Christmas Eve he lighted the

fires in his mausoleum first, and at last succeeded in writing a letter to Grace Carden. H^ got out of the difficulty in the best way, by making it very short He put it in an envelope and addressed it, intending to give it to Jael Dence, from whom he was

always

expecting a second

visit. He then lighted his forge, and soon the old walls were ringing with the his hammer.

It was ten o'clock at night a clear frosty night but be was heated and per

spiring with his ardent work, when, all of a sudden, a cold air seemed to come in upon him from a new quarter—the door. He left.hi* forge, and took a few steps to where he ceuld 9ee the door. Instead of the door, he saw the blue sky.

He uttered an exclamation, and rubbed his eyes. It was no hallucination. The door lay flat on the ground, and the stars glittered in the horizon.

Young Little ran towards the door but, when he got near it, he paused, and a dire misgiving quelled him. A work man soon recognizes a workman's hand and he saw Hillsborough cunning and skill in this feat, and Hillsborough cunning and cruelty lurking in ambush at the door. lie 7/ent back to his forge, and, the truth must be told, his knees felt weaic under hina with fears of what was to come. I

He searched about for weapons, and could find nothing to protect him against numbers. Pistols he had but, from a wretched over-security, he had never brought them to Cairnhope Church.

Oh, it was an era ot

agony

that minute,

in which, after avoiding the ambuscade that he felt sure awaited him at the door, he had nothing on earth he could Jo but wait and see what was to come next.

He kne#^ that however small his chance of escape by fighting, it was his only one and he resolved to receive the attack where he was. He blew his bellows and, cold at heart, ^fleeted to forge.

Dusky forms stole into the old church. ',"5 --3"" tmjt

cHApTER

XV.

LITTLE blew hU coals to a white heat then took his hammer into his left hand, and his little iron shovel, a weapon about two leet long, into his right.

Three assailants crept mwards him, and his position was such that two at least could assail him front und rear. He counted on that, and measured their approach with pule cheek and glittering eye, and thrust his 6hovel deep into the white coal*.

They crept nearer and nearer, and, at last, made an almost simultaneous rush on him back and front.

The man in his rear was a shade in advance of the other. Little, whose soul was in arme, had calculated on this, and turning as they came at him sent a shovelful of fiery coals into the nearest assailant's face, then stepped swifrly out of the way ot the other, who struck at him tpo immediately for him to parry, eie he could recover "the wasted blow Little's hot shovel came down on his head with tremendous force, and laid him senseless and bleeding on the earth, with blood running from his ears.

Little ladied the coals right and left on the other two assailants, one of whom was already yelling with the pain of the first shovelfull then, vaulting suddenly over a pew, he ran for the door.

There he was encountered by Sam Cole, an accomplished cudgel-player, who parried his blows cooly, and gave him a severe rap on the head that dazzled him. But he fought on, till he heard t'oylsteps coming behind him, and then rage and despait seized him, he drew back, aliifted his hammer into his right hand and hurled it with all his force at Cole's breast, for he feared to miss his head. Had it struck him on the breast, delivered as it was, it would probably iave smashed his breastbone, and killed him but it struck him on his throat, which was, in some degree, protected by a muffler: it struck him and sent him flying like a feather: he fell on his back in "the porch, yaids from where he received that prodigious blow.

Henry was bounding out after him, when he felt himself seized from behind, and the next moment another seized him too, and his right hand was now disarmed by throwing away the hammer.

He struggled furiously with them, and twice shook them off, and struck them with his fist, and jobbed them with his shovel quick and short, as a horse kicking.

But one was cunning enough to make a feint at his face, and then fall down and lay hold of his knees: he was about to pulverize this fellow with one blow ot his shovel, when the .other flung his arms round him. It became a mere struggle. Such was his fury and his vigor, however, that they could not master him. He played his head like a snake, so that they could not seize him disadvantageous^* and at last he dropped his shovel and got thera both by the throat, and grasped them so fiercely that their faces were purple, and their eyes beginning to fix. when to his dismay, he received a violent blow on the right arm that nearly broke it: he let go, and with a cry of pain, with his left hand twisted the other man round so quickly, that he received the next blow of Cole cudgel.

Then he dashed his left fist into Cole's eye, who staggered, but still barred the way so Little rushed upon him, and got him by the throat, and would soon have settled* him but the others recovered themselves ere he could squeeze all the wind out of Cole, and it became a struggle of three to on iv

He dragged them all three about with him he kicked, he hit, he did every thing that a mm with one hand, and a lion's heart, could do.

But gradually they got the better ot him and at last it came to this, that two were struggling on the ground with him, and Cole standing over them all three, ready to 6trike. 'Now, hold him so, while I settle him,' Cole said, and raised his murderous cudgel.

It came down on Little's shoulder, and only just missed his head. Again it came down, and with terrible force.

Up to this time he had fought as mute as a Fox. But now that it had come to mere butchery, he cried out,in his agony, 'They'll kill me.—My mother!—Help! -Murder! Help!' '•Ay! thsu'lt never forge no more!' roared Cole, and thwack came down the crashing bludgeon. 'Help! Murder! Help!' screamed the victim, more faintly and at the next blow more faintly still.

But again the murderous cudgel was lifted high, to descend upon his young head.

As the confederates- held the now breathless and despairing victim to receive the blow, and the butcher, with one eye closed by Henry's fist, but the other gleaming savagely, raised the cudgel to finish him, Henry saw a huge tongae of flame pour out at them all, from outside the church, and a report, that sounded like a cannon, was accompanied by the vicio»» ping of shot Cole screamed and yelled, and dropped his cudgel, and his face was covered with blood in a mo

I "s 1:1 -i 1

ment he yelled and covered his face with hit hands, and instantly came another flash, another report, another cruel ping of shot, and this time his hands were covered with blood.

The others rolled yelling out "ot the line of fire, and ran up the aisle for their lives.

At this moment a crash was heard: two of the culprits, with desperate agility, had leaped on to the vestry che»t, and from that on to the horse, and from him neadlong out of the window.

Mr. Raby dispatched all his men but one in pursuit, with this brief order,— 'Take them, alive or dead,—doesn't matter which,—they are only cutlers and cowards.' 1 iis next word was *to Cole. 'What three blackguards to one!—that's how Hillsborough fights, eh?' 'I'm not a blackguard,' said Henry, faintly. 'That remains to be" proved, sir,' said Raby, grimly.

Henry made answer bv fainting away.

CHAPTER XVI.'

When Henry Little came to himself, he was seated on men's hands, and bei .g carried through the keen refreshing air. Mr Raby was striding on in front the horse's hoofs were damping along on the hard road behind and he himself was surrounded by swordsmen in fantastic dresses. lie opened his eyes, and thought, of course, it was another vision. But no, the man, with whose blows his body was sore, and his'right arm utterly* numbed, walked close to him between two sworddancers, with Raby-marks and Littlemarks upon.him, viz., a face spotted with blood, and a black eye.

Little sighed. 'Eh, that's music to me,' said a friendly voice close to him. It was the King George ot the lyrical drama, and, out ot poetry, George the blacksmith. 'What, it is you, is it?" Said Little. 'Ay, sir, and a joyful man to hear ou speak again. The cowardly varmint! And to think they have all got clear but this one! Are ye sore hurt, sirr'

I'm in awful .pain, but no bones hroken,' Then, in a whisper,—'Where are you taking ine, George?' 'To Raby Hall,' was the whispered reply. "Not for all the world! If you are mv friend, put me down, and let me slip away.' 'Don't ask me, don't ask me,' said George, in great distress. 'How could I look Squire in the face? He did .put you in my charge.' 'Then I'm a 'prisoner!' said Henry, sternly.

George hung his head, but made no reply. Henry also maintained a sullen 6ilence after that.

The lights ot Raby cam in sight. That house contained two women» who awaited ilie result of the nocturnal expedition with terrible anxiety,

Its fate, they both felt, had been' determined before they even knew the expedition had started.

They had nothing to do but to wait, and pray that Henry had made his escape, or else had not been so mad as to attempt resistance.

In this view of things, the number and the arms of assailants were some comfort to them, as rendering resistance impo§si' le.

As for Mr. Coventry, he was secretly .delighted. His conscience was relieved. Raby would now drive his rival out of the church and out ot the county without the help of the Trades, and his act oi treachery and bad faith would be harmless. Things had taken the happiest possible turn for him.

For all that, this courtier affected sympathy, and even some anxiety, to please Miss Carden, and divert all suspicion from himself. But the true ring was wanting to his words, and both the women fell them jar, and got away from him, and laid their heads together, in agitated whispers, And the result was, they put shawls over their heads, and went together out into the night.

Thev ran up the road, sighing and clasping their hands, but no longer speaking.

At the first turn they saw the whole bodv coming towards them. "I'll soon know," said Jael, struggling with her agitation. 'Don't you be seen, Miss that might anger the Squire and, oh, he will be a wrathful man this night, if he caught him working in yonder church.'

Grace then slipped back, and Jael ran on. But no sooner did she come up with the party, than Raby ordered her back, in atone she dared not' resist.

She ran back, and told Grace they were carrying him iu, hurt, and the Squire's eyes were like hot coals.

Grace slipped into the rawing-roptn, and kept the door ajar. Suon afterwards, Raby, his men, and his prisoners, entered the hall, and Grace heard Raby say, "Bring the prisoners into the dining-room."

Grace Carden sat down, and leaned her head upon her hand, and her little foot beat the ground, all in a fluttei.

But this ended in a spirted resolve. She rose, pale, but firm, and said, "Come with me, Jael and 6he walked straight into the dining-room. Coventry sOrolled in after her.

The room was still brilliantly lighted. Mr. Raby was seated at his writing table, at the far end, and the prisonefs, wc.l guarded, stood ready to be examined.

'You can't come in here,. was Mr. Raby's first word to Grace. But she was prepared for this, and stood her ground. 'Excuse me, dear uncle, but I wish to see you administer justice and, besides, I believe I can tell you something about one of the prisoners.' 'Indeed! that alters the case. Somebody give Misa Carden a chair.'

She sat down, and fixed her eyes upon Henry Littlp,—eyes that •aid plainly* I shall defend you, if necessaryhis pale cheek «u flushing at sight of her*

Mr. Raby arranged his papers to make notes, and turned to Cole. 'The charge against you is, that you were seen this night by several persons engaged in an assault of a cruel and aggravated charac

if #Jr ft vim)

THE TERRE HAUTE WEEKLY GAZETTE

Cole, yelling, tried to follow but Henry, though sick and week with the blow* caught him, and clung to his knees, and the next moment the place was filleo with men carrying torches and gleaming swerds, and leel by a gentleman, who stood over Henry, in evening dress, but with the haughty expaned nosti ils, the brilliant black eyes, and all the features of that knight in rusty armor who had come to him in his dream and left him with scorn.

ter. You. and two other men, attacked and overpowered an individual here present and, while he was helpless, and on the ground, you were seen to raise a heavy cudgel—(got the cudgel, George?' 'Ay, your worship, here 'tis.' '—And to strike him several times on the head and limbs, with all your force. 'Oh, cruel! crtieJ!v 'This won't do* Miss Carden no observations, please. In consequence of which blows he soon after swooned away, and was for some time unconscious, and-id •Oh!' '—For aught I know, may have received some permanent injury.' 'Not he,' said Cole 'he's all right. I'm the only man that is hurt and I've got it hot he hit me with his hamiper, and knocked me down like a bullock. He's given me this black eye too.' 'In self-defense, apparently. Which party attacked the other first?' 'Why they attacked me, of course,' said Henry. 'Four of them.' 'Four! I saw but three.' 'Ohf I settled one at starting, up near the forge. Didn't you find him?' (This to George.) 'if* et'f 'Nay, we found none of the trash bift this,' indicating Cole, with^a contemptuous ierk of the thumb. 'Now, don't all speak at once,' said Mr. Raby. 'My advice to you is to say nothing,, or you'll probably make bad worse But if you choose to say any tfiing, I'm bound to to hear it.' 'Well, sir,' said Cole, in a 'cameling ^oice "wfiat I say is this: what need we go to law over thisi If you go against me for tting him with a stick, after he had hit me with a blacksmith's hammer I shall have to go against you for shooting me with a gun." "That is between you and me, sir. You will find a bystander may shoot a malefactor to save the life of a citizen. Confine your defense, at present, to the point at issue. Have you any excuse, as against this young man?'' (To Henry.) —"You look pale. You can sit down till.your turn comes." j""5 aftO* 'Not in this house.' •And why not in this hpnse, pray? Is your own house a better?!j.

No answer from Henry. A look ot amazement and alarm from Grace. But she was afraid to utter a word, after the admonition she had received.

Well, sir,* said Cole, 'he was descrating a church.' 'So he was, and I shall talk to him in his tarn. But you desecrated it woroe. He turned it into a blacksmith shop you turned it into a shambles I shall com1 mit you. You will be taken to Hillsborough to-morrow to-night you will remain in my strong-room. Fling him down a mattress and some blankets, and give him plenty to eat and drink I wouldn't starve the devil on old Christmas Eve. There take him away Stop search his pockets before you leave him alone.'

Cole was taken away, and Henry's turn came. Just before this examina tion commenced, Grace clasped he *^1 hands, and cast a deprecating look on Henry, as much as to say, •Be moderate.' And then her eyes roved to and fro, and the whole woman was in arms, and on the watch.

Mr. Raby began on him. 'As for you your offense is not so criminal in the eye of the labut its bad enough you have broken into a church by unlawful means you have turned it into a smithy, defilled the graves of the dead, and turned the tomb of a good knight into an oven, to the scandal of men and the dishonor ot God. Have you any excuse to offer?' 'Plenty. I was plying an honest trade, in a country where freedom is the law. The Hillsborough Unions combined against me, and restrained my freedom, and threatened my life, ay, and attempted my life too, before to-day: and so the injustice and cruelty of men drove me to a sanctuary, me and my livelihood. Blame the Trades, blame the public laws, blame the useless police: but you can't blame me a man must live.' 'Why not set up your shop in the vil lage? Why wantonly desecrate a church?'

The church was more secret, and more «afe: and tiobody worships in it. The wind and the weather are allowed to destroy it you care so little for it ydu let it moulder then why howl if a fellow uses it and keeps it warm?'

At this sally there was a broad rustic laugh, which, however, Mr. Raby quelled with one glance of his eye. 'Come, don't be impertinent,' said he to Little. 'Then don't you provoke a fellow,'cried. Henry, raising his voice. ..

Grace clasped her hands in dismay. Jael Dence said, in her gravest and most mellow voice,'You do forget the good Squire sated your life this very night.'

This was like oil on all the waters. 'Well, certainly I oughtn't to torget that,' said Henry apologetically. Then he appealed piteously tQ Jael, whose fower over him struck every body directly, including Grace Carden. 'Look here, you mustn't think, because I don't keep howling, I'm all right. My arm is disabled 'my back is almost broken my thigh is cut.' I'm in sharp pain all this time and that makes a fellow impatient of being lectured on the back of it all. Why doesn't he let me go? I don't want to affront him now. All I want is to go and get nursed a bit somewhere.'

Now that is the first word of reason and common sense you have uttered, young man. It decides me not to detain you. All I shall do. under the circumstances, is to clear your rubbish out of that holy building, and watch it by night as well as day. Your property, however, shall be collected, and delivered to you uninjured: so oblige mn with your name and address.' v.,:« 'Sf,,.

Henry made no reply.

Raby turned his eye full upon him. 'Surely you do not object to tell me your name.' 'Ido.' .« 'Why?' 'Excuse me.' 'What are you afraid of? Do }oa doubt my word, when I tell you I shall not proceed against you?' 'No.: it is not that at all. But' this Is no place for me to utter my name. We all have our secrets, sir. You have got yours.. There's a picture with its face "to the wall. Suppose I was to ask you to tell all the world whose face it is you insult and hide from the world?'

Raby turned red with wrath and surprise at this sudden thrust. 'You insolent young scoundrel!' he cried 'What is that to you, and what connection can there be between that portrait and a man in your way of life?' 'There is a close connection,' said

Henry, trembling with anger, in his turn: 'and the proor is that, when that picture is turned to the light, I will tell you my name: and, till that picture is turned to the light, I'll not tell you my name and if any body here knows my name, and tells it you, may that persou's tongue be blistered at the root!' 'Oh, how fearful!' cried Grace, turning very pale. 'Eut I'll put an end to it all. Iv'e goi the key. and Iv'e his permission, and I'll—dh, Mr. Raby, there is something more in this than we know.' She darted to the picture, and unlocked the padlock, and, with Jael's assistance, began to turn the picture. Then Mr. Raby rose and seemed to bend nis mind inwards, but he neither forbade, nor encourage! this impulsive act of Grace Garden's. Hv I -L"

Now there waf not a man, nor a woman, in the room whose curiosity had not been more or less excited about this picture so there was a general movement towards it, of all but Mr. Raby, who stood quite still, tut ning his eye in*, wards, and evidently, much "moved though passive.

There happened to be a strong light upon the picture, and the lovely olive face, the vivid features, and glorious black eyes and eyebrows, seemed to flash out»i the canvass into life.

Even the living faces, being blondes, paled before it, in the one particular ot color. They seemed fair glittering moons, and this a glowing sun.

Grace's first feelings were those of simple surprise and admiration. But, as she gazed, Henry's words returned to her, and all manner of ideas struck her pell-mell. 'Oh, beautiful! beautiftil!' she crk*d. Then, turning to Ilenry, 'You are right it was not a lace to hide from the world—oh! the likeness! just look at him, and, then at he_r! can I be mistaken?*

|S('

This appeal was made to the company, and roustd curiosity to *a high pitch every eye began to compare the darkskinned beauty on the wall with the swarthy young man, now who stood there, and submitted in haughty silence to the comparison. Si-v"

The words caught Mr. "Kaby's attention. He made a 6tart, and elbowing them all out of his way, strode up to the picture. 'What do you sav, Mils Carden? What likeness can there be between my 6ister and a smith?' and he turned and frowned haughtily on Hehry Little.

Henry returned^hi* look of defiance directly, But that very exchan&e^ of defiance brought out another likeness, which Grace's quick eye seized directly. 'Why, he is still Iiker you,' she cried 'Look, good people! Look at all three. Look at their great black eyes, and tlieir brown hair. Look at their dark 6kins, and their haughty noses. Oh, yon needn't blow your nostrils out at me, gentlemen 1 am not a bit afraid of either of you.—And, then look at this lovely creature. She is a Raby too, only softened down by her sweet womanliness. Look at them all three. If they are not one flesh and blood, I have no eyes.' 'Oh yes, Miss and this lady i« his mother. For I have SEEN her: AND she is a sweet lady for she told me I had a Cairnhope face, and kissed me for it.'

Upon this from Jael, the general convictiou rose into a hum that buzzed round the room.

Mr. Raby was struck with amazement. At last h- turned slowly upon Henry,and said, with stiff politeness, 'is your name Little, sir?' 'Little is my name, and I'm proud of it.' 'Your name may be Little, but your face is Raby. All the better for you sir,'

He then turned his back

the young

man, and walked right in front of the picture, and looked at it steadily and sadly.

It was a simple and natural action, yet somehow done in so imposing a way, that the bystanders held their breath, to see what would follow,

He ga ed long and steadily on the picture, and his features worked visibly. 'Ay!'he said. 'Nature makes no such faces nowadays. Poor unfortunate girl!' And his voice faltered a moment.

He then began to utter, in a low grave voice, some things that took every body by surprise, by the manner as well as the matter for, with his never once taking his eyes off the picture, and speaking in a voice softened by the sudden presence, ot that womanly beauty, the companion of his youth, it was just like a man speaking softly in a dream.

Thomas, this picture will remain as it is while I live.' 'Yes, sir'* *./t i--t. "I find I can bear the sight of you As we get older we get tougher. You look as if you didn't want me to quarrel with your son? Well, I will not there has' been quarreling enough. Any of the loyal Dences here?" But he never even turned his head from the picture to look for them. "Only ine, sir Jael Dence, at your service. Father's not|verv well." 'Nathan, or Jael, it is all one, so that it is Dence. You'll take that young gentleman home with you, and send him to bed. He'll want nursing: for he got some ugly blows, and took them like a gentleman. The young gentleman has a tancy for forging things—the Lord knows what.' He shall not forge things in a church, and defile the tombs of his own forefathers but* (with a groan) 'he can forge in your yard. All the snobs Hillsborough shan't hinder him, if that is his cursed hobby. Gentlemen are not to be dictated to by snobs. Arm three men every night with guns load the guns with ball, not small shot, as I did and if. the ruffians molest him again, kill them, and then come to me and complain ot them. But, mind you kill them first—complain afterwards. And n»w take half-a-dozen of these men with youj to carry him to the farm, if he needs i'U THERE, EDITH!'

And still he never moved his eyes from the picture, and the words seemed to drop out of bim.

Henry stood bewildered, and,- ere he could say any tiling that might revive the dormant irritation of Mr. Raby against him, female tact interposed. Grace clasped her hands to him, with tears in her eyes and as for Jael Dence, she assameti the authority with whicn she had been invested, and hurried him bodily away and the sword-dancers all gathered round him, bid they carried him in triumphant procession, with the fiddler playing, and George whistling, the favorite tune of "Raby come home again," while every sturdy foot beat the hard and ringing road in admirable keeping with that spirit-stirring march.

When hs was gone, Grace crept up to

Mr. Raby, who still stood before the picture, and eyed it and though. Si his outh. She took his arm wondrous softly will her two hands, rented her sweet new against his shoulder, and gazed at it alottr with him.

When she had nestled to him sol^e time in this delicate attitude, she turned her eyes up to him, and murmured, 'How good, how noble yoi} are: and how I love you.' Then, all in a moment, she curftSi round his nedc and kissed him with a tender violence, that took him quite by surprise.

As for Mr. Coventry, be had been trduced to a nullity and escaped attention all this time: he sat in gloomy silence, and watched wffli chilled and foreboding heart the stranfe turn events had taken, and we're taking events which he, and no other man,

setrollins*.

IUMI

CHAPTER XVII.

Freoerick Coventry, being still unacquainted with the contents of Graces letter, was now almost deperate. Grace Carden, inaccessible to ah unknown workman, would she be inaccessible to a workman whom Mr. Raby, proud an he was, had jjflbticly recognized as. his rtephew? This was not t*be expected. But something was to be expected, viz., that in a few days the door would be closed with scorn in the face ot Frederick, the miserable traitor, who had broken his solemn pledge, and betrayed his benefactor to those who had but assassinated him. Little would be sure to suspect him, and the prisoner, when he cam a to be toa&iined, wouid furnish some clue.

A cold perspiration bedewed his very back, when he recollected that the chfif constable would-be present at Cole's examination, and supply the link, even If there should be one missing. He ha4 serious thougiits&f leaving the country at once.

Finding himself unobserved, he walkSl out of the room, and paced up and down the hall

His thoughts now took A practical form. He mus^ bribe the prisoner to hold his tongue.

But how? and whta? and where? After to-night there might be no opportunity of saying a word to him.

While he was debating this in Ms mind, Knight the butler crossed the h-ill. Coventry stopped him, and asked where the prisoner was.

l\¥here

Squire told us to put him,

sir.' 'No chance of his escaping—1 hope?' •Not he, sir.' 'I Should like to take a look at him.'

Knight demurred. 'Well, sir, you see the orders are—but of course, Master won't mind you. I'll speak to him,' 'No, it is not«vorth while. I am only anxious the villian should be secure.* This of course was a feeler. 'Oh, there's no fear of. that. Why, he is in the strong roonii It is right aboreyouis. If you will come with me sir, will show you the door.' Coventry accompanied him, and Thomas Knight showed him a-e^ong door with two enormous bolts outside, both shot.

Coventry felt despai%and affected sat-. isMCtiou. Then, after a pause, he said, 'But is the window squally secijre?' 'Two iron bat's, almost as thick these bolts: and, if it st$od oDen, what could he do but break his neck, and cheat the gallows? He is alt light sir never vou fear. We sarched^him trom h£3d to foot, and found no eend o' tools in his pockets He is a deep ^in. But we are Yorkshire too, as the saying

:8.

goes to Hillsborough town-hall to-mor-row and glad to be shut on him.' Coventry complimented him, afid agreed with him that» escape was impossible. .1

He 'hen got alight, and went to his own bed-room, and .sgt down, cold at heart, before the fire.

He sat in that state, ull two o'clock ta the morning, distracting,- his brain with ^chemcs, that were invented only to jbe dismissed as idle.

At last an idea camcgo him. He took his fishing-rod, and |put the thinner joints together, and laia them on the bed. He then opened his window very cautiously. But as that wade some noise, he remained quite lor full ten minutes. Then he gQt upon the window-* seat, and passed tj)e fishing-rod out. After one or two attempts he struck the window above, with t|p fine end.

Instantly he heard a movement above, and a window cautiously opened. He gave a low 'ilea^f' 'Who's that?' whwpttted the prisoner, from above. jf 'A man who wants jou to escape.' 'Nay but I haye nQ tools.' 'What do you requi^?' 'I think I could do summit with a screw-driver.'

I'll send you one up.' :ou|ie of small Msec! up—part of

The next minuV^ screw-drivers were the furniture of his

but silently, fer en he whispered

Cole. wor*ed ha: about an hour, and down that he should tw able to get a bar out. But how -high was it from the ground?. 'About forty feet/'j

Coventry heard j^e man actually groan at the intelligence. 'Let yourself down on my window-sill. I cam find you rope eiough for that.' 'What,d'ye take mj£ tor bird, that can light of a gate?' 'But the sill is of solid stone, and full a loot wide.' jt

Say ye so, lad? laen luck is o' my side. Send op rope.S The rope was sentjpbp, and presently was fast to something^above, and dangled dawn -a little past thfegvindow-sill. 'Put out alight onlm,' whispered the voice above. 'i will

1/ there was a Jpng silence, during Coventry's blood ran cold. sthing further occurred, he whis-

Then

which Coventr As nothing pered 'What is the njatter?' 'My stomaeh fails Jpe. Send me up a drop brandy, will jef Eh, man, but this is queer work.' 1 can't) .get- it to you you must drink it here. Come,—think! It will be five years'penal servitude if you don't.' 'Is the rope long enough?' 'Plenty for that/

Then there was another awful silence* By-and-by a man's legs came dangling down, and Co^e 'HiQded on the sill, still holding tight byihd rope. He swung down on the piilt Ms9 slid into the room perspiring and wnjtt with fear.

Coventry gavb him some brancfy directly,—Cole trembling hand sent it fly-

fCAnMaaed «a TairJ Fage,)