"Help, traveller, help!" cried Sir William Judkin; "help! I lie bound hand and foot, by murderous villains!"

"O-ho! is that it ?" The rider, a very tall and athletic man, jumped from his saddle. "Then help you'll have, in the name o' God, whoever you are."

In a second, Bill was stuck in his collar; and Sam, twisting off the wooden leg, and standing stoutly upon two of good bone and muscle, poised over the intruder's head, seriously and malignly, the formidable weapon. But, at his first touch, Sir William's champion swung the juggler across the road; and ere Sam could inflict his meditated blow, his leg (strange to say!) was wrested out of his hand, and an agile jump aside scarce saved him from the effects of its agency in the grasp of its new possessor.

"Run for id!" whispered Bill; "no chance this bout !" and darting into the copse that fell to the river, they either concealed themselves near at hand, or easily escaped.

The combatant continued to flourish his weapon in the dark, making the air to whizz at each curve it described round his head, until the prostrate Sir William informed him he had now no enemy to contend with, and re

quested his assistance in freeing himself from his manacles.

"And, upon my word, that I will do, my poor fellow, if I can find you out," replied his deliverer. "Ay; here you lie; and this part of the proceeding," he continued, as he unknotted or cut the ropes, " is, I believe, more cordial to my vocation than the first part of it; though I hope you will allow, considering my little practice in deeds of arms, that I behaved like a stout soldier. And now, there a free man. Come, your hand; stand to your legs and shake yourself; for your coat must be well dusted."

you are

"I have every reason to believe, Sir, that you have saved me from being cruelly murdered."

"So much the better, then. The attaining such an end, warrants even one of my calling to wield a warlike weapon; and I'm glad it turns out that I engaged on the right side:-a matter, which, to tell nothing but the truth, I did not at first take time to consider."

"I judge by your speech, Sir, that I have to thank a clergyman for this timely aid ?"

"Ay, Sir; a priest, as you must know we are distinctively styled: and, according to the

fashion of the times, I am called Priest Rourke by those who, holding us least in love or liking, are the most familiar with us."

"And I am called Sir William Judkin, Mr. Rourke; and, as long as I am so called, your ever grateful friend henceforward."

"O-ho! ay, indeed ?" in a jocular tone, as he shook the hand extended to him; "we've heard of the name, Sir William, and in company with another, we believe; why, Sir, you and I are old friends, of years standing; half a score such cowards as ran away, just now, should not injure Sir Thomas Hartley's friend in my presence ;-that is, when a case of necessity might warrant a poor, big priest in using the bones and sinews God has given him. But what's this that helped me out, in your service, awhile ago? A curious kind of weapon, I protest now: to judge by its feel, and the view afforded of it this dark night, part of a wooden leg, I think."

"Indeed, Mr. Rourke! Let us preserve it, then; it may furnish a clue to the detection of its late owner."

""Tis so, certainly; here is the end for stumping on the ground, and this screw at the other end must have fastened it to the re

mainder of the machine: and see here; another spoil," picking up a hat; " and both mine, by all the laws of war!"

"Yet I request both from you, Mr. Rourke; the hat may particularly aid my inquiries."

"Well, I yield them, without any such lengthened contest as took place between the sly Ulysses and the dogged Ajax for the armour of their great bully. Just leave me my weapon, Sir William, while I escort you home, however; there may be another case of necessity for flourishing it in your behalf:-and so, here I go, with a leg under my arm."

"And now, Mr. Rourke, if pressing business does not interfere, you are my guest for the night," said Sir William, as, without farther interruption, they entered his house.

"With all my heart, then. I was only going to see some friends who scarce expect me, so they will not be alarmed if I don't appear; and as my old housekeeper at home saw me set off not to return till morning, she won't be frightened either: your guest I am, therefore, Sir William."

"A most welcome one, Mr. Rourke."

"Well; I am glad I can oblige you and myself, at one and the same time."

They soon sat down to supper.

"And my old friend, Sir Thomas, is so well, you tell me ?" said Mr. Rourke, rubbing his hands after a bumper of good claret.

"I left him quite well, an hour ago."

"Heartily glad am I to hear it, Sir William, heartily glad. If all our gentlemen resembled him, we should not see the poor country in the state it is."

"The times certainly begin to wear a frightful aspect, Mr. Rourke."

"And they will wear a more frightful one, Sir William. Do I speak to a friend of the poor people ?"

"You do, Sir-and to an enemy of their enemies."

"Then tell me, Sir, what are the poor people to do? As in duty bound, the greater number of their priests exert themselves to put down the Northern combination that has erept in among them- but others won't let the priests do their work; the people are set mad-I am set half mad, my self-by the burning and flogging and pitching and hanging that goes on, day after day."

"I believe, Mr. Rourke, that some wise heads promote that very madness by the means you