hear, in order that he might draw from it, if possible, some plan of action. And, governed by this impression, Sir William remained very patient, allowing for his state of mind, to a narrative almost necessarily broken and unsatisfactory; and taken up in turn, though not as necessarily, by Nanny and the other old woman. When the butler spoke, indeed, he only once or twice showed symptoms of restlessness; but the statement devolving to the Knitter, and while she thought to indulge (on her hunkers too) her usual verbosity, he slowly raised his head, looked ferociously at her, and with a round oath swore, that "if she did not avoid her useless gabble, and confine herself to facts expressed in a few words, he was just in the humour to seize on her, neck and heels, and fling her out at the window." And Nanny afterwards mentioned, that if ever look and tone of voice accorded with a terrible threat, Sir William's look and tone tallied at the moment with this menace; and she would add, that " as sure as she was a lump iv a sinner, afore Heaven, blessed be the holy name, she couldn't b'lieve her own two eyes, all out, it was the same face that she saw on the showldhers o' the hansome young barrowknight, the day mornin' when he

was goin' to marry himself to the poor, purty pet, Miss Eliza ;" and "might she never sin," but she thought, while he was looking at her, that she described a descent to the earth, "heels uppermost."

But all the Baronet heard may thus be briefly noted. His bride, having put off her wedding attire, had set out in the carriage, accompanied by her aunt; to Enniscorthy, about an hour after his and her father's departure, and, as Nanny first truly related in the hall, had not since reappeared nor been heard of. To other matters of less interest he lent an ear.

During the course of the day, yeomen had arrived at Hartley Court, and seized on all the papers to be found in Sir Thomas's study.

The servants, in obedience to an intimation from their master, had repaired to Enniscorthy castle to give evidence in his favour, respecting the visit of the insurgents to the house; but, as before noticed, though Sir William now for the first time became acquainted with the fact, Captain Talbot met them at the gate and refused them ingress. The old butler, amongst the others, had thus been repulsed; and he described Talbot's conduct as ferocious. In explanation of the demur to open the door to the

Baronet's loud knocking, he learned that, while the yeomen had been employed in collecting Sir Thomas's papers, Nanny, according to her usual habit of observing, quietly and cunningly, every thing and every body she could, overheard them allude, in whispers, to the valuables which during their search had come under their eyes; and their admiration particularly of certain articles of plate, seemed to her more ardent than might consistently be manifested towards the property of a traitor. So soon as opportunity offered, her suspicions were hinted to the butler; and, having first barricadoed the house, both set to work, late in the evening, to hide in a distant and obscure cellar, beyond the wine vaults, whatever they supposed an object of temptation to a covetous visitor. And there were they occupied when Sir William so loudly knocked at the doors; and, concluding that his was the summons of the dreaded invaders, all crept, like frightened mice, into the mysteries of these subterranean apartments; though, after a pause, Nanny, presuming on her capacity of

goin' about without makin' much noise," ventured forth, couched herself in a corner of the hall, and there recognizing Sir William's

shouting accents, addressed him as has been related.

After the last piece of information which could be afforded had reached the Baronet's car, he still remained in the position he had at first taken, in order to attend to his humble friends and as he was silent, they too held silence, even Nanny the Knitter, along with the butler and the old woman-servant: respect and pity governing exclusively their tongues; fear, as well as more generous sentiments, her's. And he seemed, indeed, an object of extreme compassion, both on account of their knowledge of his excessive grief, as on account of his present expression of his feelings; for, while his hands yet covered his face, deep groanings, which he would fain have struggled to keep in, often escaped him, and the workings of his frame shook the table on which he leaned.

But suddenly he sprang up, and "Saddle me a horse!" he cried to the old butler; "begone, Martin, without a question or a word; and you too, woman, leave the room."

The aged servant, as his female companion and the gossip ducked and huddled away, howed low, and withdrew to obey the commands of his

young lady's husband. But the old man, with his feeble pace, had scarce reached the stables, when Sir William Judkin, bearing the light from the room, was there also. This he dashed against the ground; and, expressing much displeasure at the tardiness of his amazed attendant, proceeded to saddle with his own hand a stout hunter, once the favourite of his father-inlaw; mounted precipitately, and was seen beyond the avenue-gate.

The summer morning, mild and lovely, and ushered in by a breeze of softest breathing, which however was sufficient to roll away the black clouds of the previous night, had just begun to redden in the East, as Sir William turned, galloping furiously, into the high road to Enniscorthy. The daybreak, the scenery it just indicated, the fresh rush of river and brook, the waking carol of the thrush,—all was delightful, and wooed human interest and admiration; but it drew from the young man no smile of pleasure, none even of sympathising hope, though the heart that closes in sleep and despair, at once, beneath the brooding night, will naturally and fitly own the dawn of some blessed hope in such a morning. In truth, the rapid traveller saw nothing, could see nothing save