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to hear; so be wise and hold your tongue, and just to show you I bear thee no ill-will, there is a bit of gold for thee."

He put a sovereign on the table, and held out his hand, saying nothing more. She went to a cupboard, and after taking from an old cracked teapot sundry miscellaneous articles, for which it would have puzzled ordinary ingenuity to find a use, she brought out a paper and placed it in his hand, said nothing, but took the gold.

"Is Jim Grimes at home, mother?" Best then asked, turning the conversation at once completely from the subject of their previous talk. He promised to inquire about a dog for me."

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Yes, I know he is at home; and there is one or two with him," she said, significantly. "The right sort?" said the young man inquiringly.

"Yes, slap up," said Betty.

Young Best sauntered out of the cottage with the air of an idle man, having no very definite purpose before him, looked carelessly at some colts trotting about the common, and after having apparently endeavoured to drive them up the road, he let them gallop past him; and then, as if going for help, walked quietly to the cottage of Jim Grimes, into which he walked, withont giving notice by knocking or words. Jim was talking earnestly to two other men, who knew young Best, and gave him a rude, half-familiar, half-respectful greeting.

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Well, my lads," said Best, "out of work, eh? Did you get any relief to-day ?"

"No," growled the man; "Farmer Edwards talked agin us; and though your father did speak up for us, Edwards frightened 'em like; and then they told us to go to road-work, at ninepence a day. But I won't starve; and ninepence a day is starvation. And so we are going to have a turn out to-morrow. We shall march first to your father's, sir, and take all his men; and then round till we get a good lot of men; and last of all we goes to Farmer Edwards, and break his machine, we

will."

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“Well, well, that is all very fine; but I like sure ways. He may fight-he may get help; but there is a safe plan. The nights are dark now, and cold; a little light and a little warmth would not be a bad thing, would it? and I think that might be raised without any danger. There's Jim has now in his hand the very thing; one of these put into the rick, and this fine breeze would be like a bellows. Wouldn't it blaze! and wouldn't he be afraid, and all the farmers too! They would not say nay to thee the day after, I warrant, if you were to go to vestry, and ask for something. Edwards would be just the right example; and I should like to see his farm-yard and house in blaze. He is a bad master; he grinds his men, and then he lives like a lord all the while; his

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men starve, and he riots in wealth and good living."

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The men all eagerly joined in abusing Edwards, as unjust, selfish, and cruel. They cited his dismissal of Grey, without warning (sinking all mention of Grey's ill conduct), as proof of Edwards's cruelty and injustice, and they cursed him for his stern refusal to allow poaching on his farm, and for his late conduct at the vestry, until at last they worked themselves into a fury, and were ready for any deed which a wild spirit of revenge and hate could dictate. There was, however, mixed with their desire to injure Edwards, a fear as to the means. He was, they knew, resolute, and, when angered, fierce; they dreaded, therefore, any direct encounter with him. But Jim Grimes was resolved upon destroying his threshing-machine, not so much because he hated Edwards as because he hated the innovation. A favourite phrase of the man marked the mode in which he was accustomed to view any suggestion of improvement. Aye, that may suit in other parts, but it won't do here; it ain't the custom of the country." The custom of the country was apparently something nearly sacred in his eyes, and to break through it was a species of sacrilege, and his feelings with regard to it were akin to those of the rude African, who sees his fetish destroyed, its wretched temple removed, and, in its place, a Christian church reared up. His anger, then, was a sort of blind fanaticism. The anger of the poor labourers who were with him was similar, but the bitter spirit that was at work in young Best was of a very different description. He sought to employ the ignorance and bad pa sions of the poor deluded wretches he was instigating to crime, in order to gratify a direful revenge. Not, indeed, that he was free from their prejudices; he believed that the conduct of Edwards was unjustifiable with respect to the labourers who were to be superseded by the machine. He believed this because he heard almost every one whose opinion he respected say that it was 80. His father, his father's landlord, the clergyman of the parish, and nearly all the farmers of the neighbourhood, said the same thing; and he endeavoured to justify his own base purpose to himself by allying it to what he thought a right cause.

"But, sir," said one of the men, suddenly addressing Best, "if so be that this thing ought to be done, and you think it so easy, why don't you do it yourself?"

"So I would, if it were my business, but I don't lose anything by Edwards and the machine. He may thresh just as much corn as he pleases, and it makes no difference to me. And I do hear that James, of Hindford's, has hired it. I dare say it will soon go round the parish, and we shan't hear a flail soon anywhere in the neighbourhood."

"That's all true," said Grimes, led away from the pertinent and home question to which Harry Best was replying, by the artful suggestions of the cunning instigator," that's all true; and if we be men, we are not going to stand by and see the bread taken out of our mouths in this way. So I say, let us do both; let us fire the ricks by night, and break the machines by day. The farmers will

be soon frighted, and we shall soon have a good cease-when the open marauder, or the midnight wage."

Such was the result of the consultation.

When Edwards arrived at his home it still wanted some hours to nightfall; and he bade his wife prepare a few things for herself and his daughter, and entreated her to drive at once into and remain there a short time, in the house of an old friend.

Mrs. Edwards warmly resisted this entreaty. "Let me remain here with you and my children. I shall be far more miserable when away. My fancy will create more horrors than the reality can bring; and I will promise you, dear Francis, that I will not be a coward when the danger comes." Edwards, however, still insisted. "I shall be a coward though, if you and Fanny are here; and that's what I don't wish to be at this moment. If I am afraid, I may possibly yield to unjust demands, and be ashamed of myself ever after. Real danger for myself I don't believe there will be. But whatever is to come I can face it, if I have only myself to think of; so, my own dear wife, yield to my most earnest request, and trot away to our friend Halliday's for a day or two. I will send over to you by every opportunity; and in twenty-four hours we shall learn all that we have to learn."

Mrs. Edwards reluctantly yielded; and, with many tears, and terrible anticipations, bade her husband and her boys adieu. In an hour she was safely housed in the hospitable dwelling of their friend, Mr. Halliday; and Edwards was able coolly to prepare for the unwelcome visitors whom he expected.

The homestead, comprising therein the barns and rick-yard of the farm held by Edwards, was close to the road; but divided from it by a wall, and by a hedge. The rick-yard stood at some small distance from the barns and stables, and was, in fact, open to attack on every side; but the barns, stables, and the house, were surrounded by a wall, and large gates gave entrance to the barn-yard. The buildings were all covered with tiles and slates, and were themselves of brick. The barn too, at this moment, was empty, so that the buildings were nearly safe from fire. This, however, was not the case as regarded the ricks. They were surrounded by a hedge, and by a paling; an active man could easily leap within the one or the other; and in the dark, unless many were watching, fire might easily be applied to them. The long and tranquil reign of the law in England has accustomed us all to such security from open and violent attack that no one thinks of so framing and building his home as to make it secure against direct and forcible aggression; thus, when deprived of the guard which the all-pervading authority of the law is accustomed to afford us, we are, in fact, almost without protection. If lawless violence assails us, we have no fortresses, no embattled and guarded houses to retire to. In England hitherto we have fancied the rick in the open yard, the cattle and sheep in the field, all as safe as if they were protected by stone walls and iron bars; and God forbid that we should, any of us, live to see the day when that security shall

assailant, shall be able, with any chance of impunity, to attack or injure the most defenceless of our people. Mr. Edwards, as he arranged his plans for watching his property, and making fast his gates, felt a pang of grief, shame, and indignation, when he thought of the blot which ignorance and malice thus imprinted on our annals as a civilised people, by rendering necessary the precautions he was taking.

The snow, which in that part of England seldom falls, and still more rarely remains many hours on the ground, was then, however, deep, bright, and clear on the road and in the fields. A crescent moon hung low on the western horizon; the bright stars shone at intervals, as the clouds, driven by a sharp northerly wind, left clear spaces of dark sky in the vault above. The frost crisped the snow under foot, and, notwithstanding the strong winds, sound was clearly and distinctly conveyed through the dry atmosphere. Mr. Edwards, three stout bold sons, his bailiff, and two farm-servants, prepared to keep watch through the night. The accounts which the newspapers had given of incendiary fires in various parts of the country induced him to believe that an attempt would be made to burn his ricks. The language he had heard throughout the day, gave him to understand that the same ignorance and bad passions prevalent elsewhere were to be found also at Oakley, and he could hardly hope to escape the calamities which, under similar circumstances, had befallen others. He was determined, nevertheless, to meet the evil with vigilance and firmness.

The sounds attendant on village life at night by degrees died away. The labourers, one by one, and in little parties, had wended their way home from the work of the day. The hedger, with his large gloves and hook dangling at one end of a stiff stick, and a huge faggot at his back on the other-the faggot being his day's perquisite-had long since gone by, and the fuel which he had brought had cooked his evening meal, lighted him while he and his family partook of it, and still warmed them, though its light had ceased to glimmer through the small casement, protected only by its thin curtain from the cold without. Darkness had settled on his dwelling. The children had left the pond near the blacksmith's shop, and their noisy mirth was over for the day; the glow of the forge, and the sharp clink of the smith's hammer, were no longer to be seen or heard; even the late tippler at the pothouse had reeled and stumbled home, growling and cursing. A watch-dog now and then, indeed, broke the silence, and howled as the cold wind rendered his kennel comfortless. It seemed as if nature slept, and man, in obedience to nature's law, slept also. But vengeance and hate were wakeful, and refused to be at rest; and the watcher, at his post, kept wakeful by anticipated ill, was anxious and vigilant also.

It was the custom at Mr. Edwards's to mark the close of all the labours of the day, by tolling a large bell for a few minutes at the hour of eight, when the carters racked up their horses for the night. Few persons in a laborious household re

mained long up after this signal had been rung. clouds, as the night wore, grew more and more But the village gossips co.id see, and often spoke thick; the moon had long since sunk below the of, the light in Mr. Edwards's window many hours horizon, and no stars were to be seen—it was proafter all the household were at rest, and till that foundly dark.

light also disappeared, one quick ear was known The persons now were evidently at the rail to be alert in the midst of the slumbering family. fence; and appeared, by the sound, to be creepMr. Edwards knew that his light was the subject ing under it. In a few seconds, a slight sound of common remark, and felt sure that, if any one and crackling explosion followed. "Not a thief's intended to do him harm, he would take heed of its match," thought Mr. Edwards. The small light being extinguished, and not attempt to approach of the match flamed—and flamed in the rick; the premises till sufficient time had elapsed for the and a man's arm and hand were distinctly visible. master to be asleep as well as at rest. In order, Mr. Edwards fired. A scream followed on the therefore, to prevent suspicion, he kept his light burning as usual, and at the usual hour extinguished it. "Now, boys," said he, "if any evils are to come this night, they will be upon us in about an hour, let us therefore take our posts. The real danger will be in the rick-pound, and there we must watch. Hold Carlo by the collar, and keep him quiet, if possible."

instant, and a rush as of men running. "Let the dog loose," said Edwards cooly, but quickly; "and do you, Richard and Henry, follow, and see if you can seize the villains. The others, Johnson, must follow me, and, if possible, prevent the firing of the rick." This took but a moment to say, and the whole of the watching party rushed forward to fulfil the commands of their leader. Mr. Edwards was, They then silently proceeded to the rick- on the instant, at the burning spot in the wheatpound, and crouched down under the shadow of rick; and the lighted match was blazing brightly a wheat rick, from which spot they obtained a about six inches within the butt of one of the full command of the whole surrounding fence. sheaves of which the rick was composed. Another Crouched, as they were, on the ground upon dry moment, and to prevent the whole being in a blaze straw, the frozen ground and snow conveyed to would have been impossible. Stooping, Edwards them sounds from a great distance; and, in about scraped at one sweep a large double-handful of an hour's time, the dog suddenly started on his snow, and thrust it on the burning straw; the men feet, and began to growl, as if at something ap- who followed imitated their master, and the fire proaching. Mr. Edwards, putting his hand on was extinguished. The young men, Richard and the shoulder of his son, who held the dog, whis- Henry, rushed with the dog after the men. They, pered, "Keep him quite still, Richard; don't slip however, had separated, and found shelter in a him till I tell you; which I shall do, so soon as I thick copse immediately adjoining the field. in fire—and fire I will, if things happen as I expect. which to find them, during the darkness, even with Hush! and be careful." Richard put his arms the aid of the dog, was impossible. Both the young round the good dog's neck; and by placing his men, however, fired, as they heard the villains own head upon the dog's, kept him quiet. Mr. crashing through the hedge, and fancied that they Edwards now rose to his feet; but, being under the must have wounded one or both of the runaways shadow of the rick, was wholly unseen. The The man who had attempted to fire the rick sound that had attracted the notice of the dog became audible to the watchers; it was of persons (for there were more than one) coming along the field side of the hedge. The rick-pound was the corner of the field, railed in, so that two sides were fenced by the hedge-two by the rails. The

was not so fortunate as his companions. Mr. Edwards had loaded his piece with small shot, and, firing from a distance of some fifty yards, wounded the man severely, though not dangerously. The shots, however, had disabled the ruffian, and he lay groaning in an agony of terror and pain.

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408

THE PATRIOTIC WAR IN ITALY.*

In the work of General Pepe we have the first connected narrative of the memorable events which occurred in Italy in 1848 and 1849. This veteran republican, exiled from his native country for the conspicuous part which he played in the Neapolitan movement of 1821, left his retreat in France on the first outbreak of the Milanese insurrection, with the view of devoting his services to the popular cause in Northern Italy. On arriving at Genoa, however, he learned that the King of Sardinia had already passed the Ticino, at the head of 90,000 men. This grateful intelligence induced the General to proceed directly to Naples, with the intention of stimulating the Government of his native city to follow the daring example of Charles Albert. Twenty-seven years previously, Pepe had left those classic shores as a proscribed fugitive. Now, all was changed. Citizens of every class were eager to welcome back the Carbonaro chief of 1821; and the son of that king who had rigidly exempted his name from the general amnesty of the above-named year, now pressed upon his acceptance the command of an army which was destined to co-operate with the Sardinian and Lombard forces in expelling the "barbarians" from Italy.

plished this object, without awakening popular indignation, may teach us that that skill in kingcraft for which the princes of Italy were once so famous is by no means yet extinct. Before setting out on the expedition, Pepe received a private communication from the minister of war, desiring him upon no account to cross the Po, until he received fresh instructions from Naples. He informs us, that if he had made the contents of this letter public, the King would certainly have fallen a victim to popular vengeance. As it was, however, the General frankly confesses that he at once resolved not to act upon this significant order. But as the event proved, the Neapolitan cabinet had taken very good care that he should have no option in the matter.

On joining the first division of his army at Ancona, Pepe was naturally eager to take part in the great struggle in Lombardy, which was then at the hottest. He quickly discovered, however, to his infinite disgust, that the superior officers by whom he was surrounded had no stomach for the fight. They were all, in fact, the creatures of the Neapolitan court, and no more intended to cross bayonets with the Austrians than did their royal master. To have hanged a few of these worthies, Notwithstanding the attentions and the flattery pour encourager les autres, was an idea which he received, however, Pepe appears from the first never appeared to have occurred to General Pepe : to have distrusted the Neapolitan King. It was and we are astonished at it. Still he was in scarcely credible, indeed, that a Bourbon of the expectation of the second and larger division of Italian race, and the husband, moreover, of an his army, which might be more patriotically disAustrian princess, could entertain any real affec-posed. This second division, however, never tion for the popular cause. The motives which appeared, and, we need scarcely add, never was influenced his conduct in this affair, however, are intended to appear. After some delay, instead of sufficiently obvious. The projected expedition to the expected aid, there came a peremptory order Lombardy was entertained as a necessary conces- from Naples, recalling the whole of the troops sion to the popular will. To have refused, at that under Pepe's command to protect the capital critical time, to have declared war against Austria, against the disaffected within its walls. In vain would have certainly cost the sovereign of Naples did the veteran General remonstrate. The bulk of his crown, and, probably, his head. War was the army was only too willing to obey the royal therefore declared; and it was given out than an mandate. The General stormed and wept, alike to army of 40,000 men, under the command of the no purpose. The Neapolitan battalions, with the revolutionary hero of 1821, was immediately to exception of 2000 volunteers, who accompanied take the field. The enthusiasm of the Neapolitans our hero to Venice, cheerfully turned their faces knew no bounds. Brilliant reviews in the morn- to the south again. So ended this remarkable ing, patriotic songs and serenades in the evening, expedition. Inglorious though it may seem, none consumed the brief space which intervened before ever more fully answered the purposes of those the first division of the army was in readiness to who planned it. By its means the King and move. After some vexatious delays, 17,000 men at length left Naples for the Lombard war. They were to be followed speedily by 24,000 more. Pepe, in the meantime, proceeded by sea to Ancona, which had been fixed upon as the rendezvous of the Neapolitan forces, previous to the commencement of active operations.

Court of Naples had got rid of General Pepe; and they had allayed, at a critical time, the dangerous excitement of the Liberal party in that city. A much more summary mode was afterwards adopted of dealing with the disaffected. Our space will not allow us, however, to dwell upon those scenes of perfidy and blood which were enacted in the In the midst of all these preparations, however, streets of Naples in the summer of 1848. We the Neapolitan cabinet had determined that the must confine ourselves for the present to the proexpedition should never reach its pretended des-gress of events in Northern Italy, as we find them tination; and the address with which they accom- detailed in the work before us.

* "Narrative of Scenes and Events in Italy from 1847 to 1849." By Lieutenant-General Pepe, &c. &c. 2 vols. London: Colburu.

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