The interval, until her proposed change of condition, was contemplated by our heroine with much anxiety. She heard discussed, by every one around her, convulsions that might disor ganize the whole frame of society, and expose her, and all dear to her, to frightful perils; and her apprehensions of another danger, though it was of a private kind, especially weighed down her spirits.

After Sir William Judkins's account of his amicable meeting with the juggler, Eliza's dread of that person, as an agent of Harry Talbot, almost passed away. Nanny's anec

dote of the conversation she had heard outside the hedge, became shorn of its terrors. But the industrious gossip afterwards demanded an audience, for the purpose of detailing new information on the subject, and our heroine's doubts and fears were called up afresh. The adventure which Nanny tramped to Hartley Court to communicate, we shall rehearse rather as it happened, than as the fair auditor was compelled to receive it.

Using an increased degree of caution in her proceedings, proportioned to her increased abhorrence and fears of the wizard who could

cut off and put on, at his leisure, the head of

Shawn-a-Gow's bracket-hen, still Nanny kept her eye on Rattling Bill Nale. Into the boudoir of Nelly Hannigan, the housekeeper of Mr. Talbot, she sometimes contrived to insinuate herself. Under the pretence of professions of pity "for the poor young masther bein' crassed," as she termed his disappointment in love, Mrs. Hannigan was glad to receive, for an evening's gossip, her old acquaintance; and Nanny always took care to steal into the house, without exposing her person to the observations of its proprietor.

During such visits, our Knitter learned that some surprise existed amongst the household at the intimate footing upon which the bravo and the squire seemed to be together. She learned, too, that their conferences were frequently held in a grove, near the house, and at a particular spot in that grove. Warily, but promptly, did she take her measures. The ground was first reconnoitred; and at daybreak, upon a following morning, when she learned that Nale had, the previous night, been an inmate of the house, Nanny, about the time they might be expected to issue forth, assumed her position under a great lime-tree, which, as if designed to screen eves-droppers,

threw out, from a trunk of not more than three feet in height, branches of noble growth, that, sweeping to the ground, formed an almost artful hiding-place for the inquisitive old dame.

Under this tree, we remember to have taken shelter from a torrent of rain; and while listening to the assault of waters above and around us, our person remained perfectly dry, until the sun, without penetrating our shade, again shone forth, and invited us to continue our ramble. And beneath the same canopy, agitated by contending hopes and fears, and broiling with curiosity, did our friend Nanny conceal herself. The leaves had not yet gained their full expansion, so that she might catch an imperfect view of any persons passing without; and she calculated that the shadow in which she settled, aided by the crippled position which she assumed, and by her perfect stillness, would prevent passengers from having the same advantage over her;-in truth, she first heaped her cloak, close to the trunk, to about the same height and space she proposed to fill, placed her foxy hat upon it, and, then going out, peered through the branches, and found the effigy undistinguishable even to her curious eye.

After more than an hour of patient expectation, Nanny crouched close, at the sound of approaching voices and footsteps; and Rattling Bill, accompanied by Harry Talbot, in his uniform of a Yeoman captain, came up.

"And the day is fixed," said Harry Talbot, in a tone of deep sorrow.

"Sure enough," replied his companion. "How did you gain your intelligence ?" "Do you know an ould slinkeen* iv a jade, Capt'n, that goes peepin' an' gostherin' through the parish; they call her Nanny the Knitter." Nanny felt uncomfortable in her concealment. "Yes," replied Talbot; "an ungrateful old Jezabel she is."

"An ould colloch," continued Nale," that 'ud sell her own sowl an' body for a copper groat; but she'd betther 'ware me, or I'll put her from peepin' on my road. Well! I hard this same ould Tory, when she didn't think I was within ear-shot, tellin' the news to Misthress Delouchery, beyant; an' to-day month they think they'll be married. Hah! hah! what a guess they have; there's divarsion in spilin' their sport, if there was nothin' else in id." "Why delay to act, till the last moment ?" * A mean idler.

"We must go our own way to work, Capt'n, that's all: there's but one in the world Bill Nale is afeard of, an' he goes by ordhers o' that one."

"Then, of myself, I will act openly; if, by any delay of our's, this marriage takes place, I am a wretch for ever."

"There's more of id, again. You can't do without me, Capt'n. Who's to bear you out? Tell me that, my bould commandher."

"You speak truly."

"Then, a word out o' your jaw, an' I lave you to fight your own battle. There's no one to know what happens to that frolick some blade, barrin' my own self an' them I can depend on : so let us work the way we like."

They passed on, and their words became indistinct in distance; while Nanny literally shivered and chattered with apprehension.

Out she would have crept, did she not sorely fear observation and detection, in the very act for which she had just been threatened with chastisement. In this dilemma, she pulled up her beads from the depths of her pockets, and, stipulating for a merciful release from present danger, hurried over her propitiatory orisons. But doubtless the part of the dialogue she had