I will use it. Dear husband, do let me go, for after all my bold speeches, you see I come to entreating like a child. Do let me go with you." "Do not urge this matter further, my sweet wife," said he, "indeed you cannot go. How wearied you appear already, and you know not how soon I must depart; every moment that I linger bringeth danger nearer to me. I have heard since the morning that those who watch for me are not far distant. They have discovered, or at least, they do certainly suspect, that I have spoken for my passage in a vessel lying off Portsmouth. I cannot return thither. My only hope of safety is by departing instantly in a small fishing boat. The wind is fresh and favourable. I had now come to this cottage for the last time, to see if Richard Lucas were returned; had I not found him, I should have been at this time far from these shores. The little boat is lying behind that point of land; they are waiting for me there." As he spake, he pointed to the spot from where Alice had seen him approach. "I am ready to go this instant, and not wearied," replied the lady. "I looked anxious, and you thought I was fatigued in bodyWell-my love, we must not delay, I will call Richard Lucas to take this cloak-bag of mine. You see I am not, for once, encumbered with many packages, as women usually are.-Is there any thing here that I can carry in my hand to the boatNo, I see notning about this little chamber-I suppose that your things are already carried thither-Richard," she said, as the old man entered the chamber, "take this, and come with us. Take care that you do not strike your head," she called out softly, as they descended the narrow staircase. -Alice drew near to her husband as they walked from the cottage. "You do not refuse me, dear husband?" said she. "I do not," replied John Lisle. He spoke in a low whisper, and his voice was tremulous with emotion, but Alice heard him. It was to the banks of the magnificent lake Leman, in Switzerland, that John Lisle and his wife proceeded. Edmund Ludlow, the regicide, the friend of Lisle, had fled to Dieppe, and joining company with him there, they proceeded together to Geneva. They afterward fixed their residence at the lovely town of Vevay. The Lady Lisle was now only anxious for the presence of her children; but she deemed it best that they should remain in England, having heard that they were living under the protection of her own friends, many of whom were high in favour with the restored monarch.-Most of the regicides had suffered on the scaffold, and the printed account of their last prayers, and dying speeches, which stole abroad in the year of our Lord 1661, had been read by Lisle. Three years had passed away, and yet he lived undisturbed, except by the probability of danger.-At the beginning of the year 1664, some suspicious circumstances were related to John Lisle by one of his foreign friends. Two men had appeared in the neighbourhood of Vevay, who had made particular inquiries as to his residence and daily habits. It was also reported that their inquiries had been fully answered by a certain Frenchman, who at times visited Vevay, Lausanne, and other places, to carry on his trade of engraving upon seals and cups. This man was then at Vevay; and Lisle, having received a promise from his friends, that they would cause the French graver to be examined, set off with his lady to Lausanne, where they hired a lodging, and determined to remain for a few weeks. Scarcely, however, had they been a day at Lausanne, when Lisle received information from Ludlow that the Frenchman (probably guessing that his conduct would be inquired into by the officers of justice) had also fled, and fled to Lausanne. Lisle immediately represented the matter to the government there. The man was taken before the Burgomaster, and, after a slight and unsatisfactory examination, banished from their jurisdiction. Lisle had soon fresh cause for alarm. Again he heard from Ludlow that two men, habited as grooms, had arrived at an inn in Vevay. These men had also been examined by an order of the Bailiff and Chatelain of the town. They pretended that they were the servants of a German Count, then sojourning at the baths in the Pais des Vallées, and that they were commanded to await his arrival at Vevay. The fellows continued at Vevay for a week, when one, coming from the baths of which they had spoken, declared that no German Count had been there. It was intimated to the landlord of the inn at Vevay, that he should not entertain the false rogues a day longer. Upon which, they had hastened away by the road to Lausanne. They came to Lausanne, and Lisle was apprized of their residing there by many of his friends. Again were the fellows questioned, but they now told a well-concerted story; and no sufficient grounds could be advanced to force their departure. "I can bear this no longer," said John Lisle to his wife, as one of his friends quitted the apartment in which they were sitting. "I cannot bear to live in this fever of fearful anxiety. I have not been used thus to dread the presence of human beings. I go about now like a timid child in a dark room, and start if by chance a footstep sound behind me. I know that if the danger I shun were really present, I could turn VOL. II. PART II. 2 D and face it without a winking of the eye. I should not tremble then. But look at me now; touch my hand, Alice. Am I not an altered man? It is foolish to tremble at the fear, when the certainty would not appal me.-You look grave, Alice-do not mistake me. I did not mean that death would not appal me. I have lately learnt to know myself; to examine the principles on which I have acted. I will confess that they were not such as I could now approve. I am not ready for death; I pray to God that He will let me live a little longer. Oh, my wife, I know that you pray for me; but let your warmest prayer for my soul be, that I may live a few more years in a better knowledge of myself, and of my Saviour's will." "Have I not every reason to pray for a continuance of days to you, my husband," replied Alice. “I, whom every day in your society makes happier. I, who am blessed almost beyond my hopes when I hear you speak thus; indeed it would be an affliction for me to lose you now. And yet I fear when I think upon your failing health. Your face is sunk and pale, and your hand-yes, it doth indeed tremble. A dry fever burns in its slightest touch. It cuts me to the heart to see you so ill. You need air, and regular exercise; and yet I must own that I do not like you to expose yourself to those fellows. I would have you at least wait a little longer. Do follow the advice of your friends. Go not again for some while to the church we have of late attended. Your friends say truly, that if an attempt were made upon your life so near the gates of the town, a way of escape would lie at once open to the villains." “Alice,” replied John Lisle, with a quiet solemnity of manner which she never forgot, "you know how my whole soul pants for a longer sojourn in this world of trial. Do not think I can trifle with hopes that every moment are dearer to But I am resolved from this hour that I will commit myself to God alone. He knoweth what is best for my soul. To that church I will go, as heretofore, to worship Him who alone can save me, for vain is the help, vain the foresight of man." me. The morning which succeeded after the above-mentioned conversation, was unusually beautiful. The windows of the saloon which Lisle and his Lady occupied commanded the whole magnificent range of mountains extending along the Savoy side of the lake; and Alice rose up from the table on which their breakfast was spread, to gaze out upon the splendid scenery before her. The light breeze seemed, as it blew freely over her face, to bring with it a pure spirit of refreshment that penetrated through her whole frame. She felt her heart lightened, and the faculties of her mind braced by it. "This surely is a morning," she said, and turned to her husband," in which I can apply to my feelings that verse of Scripture Heaviness may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.' Look out upon this world of beauty. Here is surely all the joy of morning,-freshness, and light and purity, spreading the whole earth with the radiance of heaven. It is ungrateful in man to feel mournful on such a morning." "You must not loiter here, my love," said Lisle, as he walked up. to the window from whence his wife was gazing. "We must turn awhile from these objects, which are in truth, most gloriously beautiful, to offer to their great Creator the morning sacrifice of prayer and praise in His holy House." "I too feel inspirited by the air of this bright morning," exclaimed Lisle, as he drew his wife's arm within his own: and so they proceeded to the church, adjoining the town-gate. Still in conversation, they entered the street leading immediately to the church. Alice suddenly started, for on lifting up her eyes she beheld a man come forth from a house on the opposite side of the road, and she saw that he gazed intently upon her husband. She determined to look steadily in the man's face as they passed him. To her surprise he saluted them. Alice had perceived nothing suspicious in his appearance, except that he wore a long cloak, and that his hat seemed to shade the upper part of his face. All this took place very quickly; yet Alice ceased at once from conversing with her husband. Some of their friends were only a few paces before them, and many persons were passing along the street. She did not like to appear alarmed, and she hesitated when her husband asked the cause of her sudden change of manner. Alice turned her head to look back.-At that instant, before she could speak, her husband sprung up with a violent bound from her side-the discharge of a carbine burst like thunder on her ear.-Her extended arms caught the body as it fell and, unable to support its dead weight, she sunk with it, and under it, to the earth; the hot blood gushing over her bosom, and wetting her in a moment to the skin. The poor Lady had met with many heavy sorrows, and her life was, till she drew her last breath, a life of heart-breaking trials. Yet never was she visited with such pangs of agony as when she lay upon the earth weighed down by the corpse of her husband. It was not his death, or her own situation, that pierced her soul so sharply; it was the scene which swam before her eyes as she lay half insensible, and beheld a horseman, wrapped in a long cloak, with his face bent towards the ground, ride from behind the church, with a led horse in his hand; in less than a minute, the assassin had mounted, and both the horsemen had disappeared; but for hours a dream-like vision haunted her brain. She saw that scene again before her, which appeared in Westminster-street, on the morning of the King's execution, and her husband riding with Colonel Hacker before the troop of horse, a long cloak hanging over his figure, and his face bowed towards the ground. L. W. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE GREAT LAW-SUIT BETWEEN PART I. THE parish of St. Dennis is one of the most pleasant parts of the county in which it is situated. It is fertile, well wooded, well watered, and of an excellent air. For many generations the manor had been holden in tail-male by a worshipful family, who have always taken precedence of their neighbours at the races and the sessions. In ancient times the affairs of this parish were administered by a Court-Baron, in which the freeholders were judges; and the rates were levied by select vestries of the inhabitant householders. But at length these good customs fell into disuse. The Lords of the Manor, indeed, still held courts for form's sake, but they or their stewards had the whole management of affairs. They demanded services, duties, and customs, to which they had no just title. Nay, they would often bring actions against their neighbours for their own private advantage, and then send in the bill to the parish. No objection was made, during many years, to these proceedings, so that the rates became heavier and heavier: nor was any person exempted from these demands, except the footmen and gamekeepers of the squire and the rector of the parish. They indeed were never checked in any excess. They would come to an honest labourer's cottage, eat his pancakes, tuck his fowls into their pockets, and cane the poor man himself. If he went up to the great house to complain, it was hard to get the speech of Sir Lewis; and, indeed, his only |