'And I'll trust old Peggy to keep the gentleman-and he is a gentleman,' said Betty, dropping a tear-quite safe; she knows every inch of the county. Oh, it's a dreadful thing! terrible— terrible! May God help and guard him!' she said, with a fresh flow of tears.

I saw the young men grasp each other's hands in silence, and Ralph handed the poor old creature a parcel containing a warm woollen cloak, saying, Here, Betty, for the winter; please say not a word—and here, Betty,' he said, putting another sovereign into her extended hand, which he warmly shook; 'good-bye, Betty; I hope-you must tell me if it doesn't fit, you know.'

Not waiting to hear more he left, followed by his two friends; it was all so quietly and so quickly done that they were wending their way back to the Castle in the bright moonlight, before the poor old creature had recovered from her surprise, and that was just what Ralph wanted.

Ah, what heavenly sounds were those? I had regained the Castle; Ralph and Birdie were alone, not in the Castle turret, nor in the snow-clad ravine, but in the Castle library, Ralph's old room. And I looked!-her picture had been replaced. I heard her murmur, 'But supposing, dear Ralph-oh, I cannot say the words—but I have often thought of those big, curling waves; what should I have done then? How I trembled as I watched you, and beckoned to you from the shore !'

'If they really had devoured me, you mean. Well, that would have made no difference, my child, for you were ever mine, and ever must have been! Ages might roll, and worlds might pass away, but what are worlds, or ages? We should have met; our souls were ever approaching towards each other! Time -a year or two at most-and then, my Birdie, we should have mingled our souls in one!'

I left the room; I liked them so to be alone. The door was just ajar. Birdie was at the harp, Ralph resembling thousands of joyous sunbeams all melted into one, and she the bright reflection of them all. And then she sang, and as I listened I had to pinch my old Spectral limbs to force myself to calmness. I own it was difficult, oh, sir, you've heard-oh, no, you never have heard Birdie !

But picture, in fancy only, the faintest summer's breath, the tiniest fluttering in the gauzy sky,-a zephyr's whispering trill stealing from balmy Southern skies,-the wee-est note of sound, prolonged and floating in the azure atmosphere; and then,-a swelling thrill of melody, which, bursting on the unexpectant ear,

would vibrate till the heart would overflow with rapturous bliss, the while her melting cadences would rend and soften the fibres of stout, manly bosoms, and-what of Ralph's?

'The heart, like a tendril, accustom'd to cling,

Let it grow where it will, cannot flourish alone,
But will lean to the nearest and loveliest thing

It can twine in itself, and make closely its own.'

'But not the refrain, my own one; Moore was not thinking of our loves,' said Ralph earnestly, the moment the last echoes had died away, which I thought so difficult to discover.

Her slave was now reclining upon the ground; his arms were thrown around her dark, flowing skirt; his lips were close to two tiny feet. He moved, and so did I, for suddenly his arms were thrown about her wildly, his head reclined where none had lain before, his lips so near to hers! He has undone her hair in naughty playfulness; it falls upon her radiant neck and shoulders, imparting life and warmth around.

-

'Oh, give me Moore,' he begged.

'Sit up then, dear old boy, or else I won't.'

(That's right,' I breathed; 'keep the young man in order!') But neither heeded a bit. Soon she began once more, the sounds proceeding like strains from harp of Æolus:

'Let Fate do her worst; there are relics of joy,
Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy;
Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care,
And bring back the features that joy used to wear.
Long, long be my heart with such memories fill'd!
Like the vase, in which roses have once been distill'd,
You may break, you may shutter the vase if you will,
But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.'

The last cadences of unearthly music had died away. Ralph had watched his idol from where he had 'sat up' in silent adoration, till the last reverberations of the harp she had touched with such magic thrilling sweetness had wafted their tones in sombre reverberating resonance, and had then become part of those two breathing, warm, loving natures.

I heard Ralph sigh, as though his heart would burst, and yet he spoke no words. Idly touching the chords, she sang with easy grace the words,

'And hearts, so lately mingled, seem

Like broken clouds-or like the stream-
That smiling left the mountain's brow,

As though its waters ne'er could sever,
Yet, ere it reach the plain below,

Breaks into floods, that part for ever.'

Ralph started; he was not prepared for this. I saw him fold
I saw I saw-I can't tell what I saw.

his darling in his arms.

I wouldn't tell for worlds! I left them. I would have breathed, had I but the courage, 'Good-night, you more than goddess, Birdie Ralph, good-night!'

CHAPTER XXIII.

'To Banbury came I-
O profane one!
Where I saw a

Puritane one

Hanging of his cat
On Monday,

For killing of a mouse
On Sunday.'

Now although not only the heads of the noble house of Trememdon, but also their guests, had done all in their power to endeavour to distract their minds from the terrible sense of dread which surrounded them, yet, like the mountain torrent, which, dammed by an accumulation of débris, may be stemmed for a time, is certain to burst forth sooner or later with greater violence than ever, the time soon came when dissembling was no longer possible.

The Marquis sat in his chair broken-hearted. A guest at his Castle had been murdered by another guest. It seemed an event too fearful to realise even now. Sunday had come— -for Christmas, ever quiet at Old Trememdon, was gone—and with Sunday came a Sternite conference. Lanky questioned whether it were lawful to attend the Church out of which their fathers had

come.

'As from an accursed thing!' added St. Peter. 'Think! might not our souls be greatly endangered thereby?—'tis the Church of the Old Countree, linked with things temporal, things carnal.'

Things devilish!' urged St. Luke; 'wot ye not we have enough to answer for without? Yea, verily. And, brethren,' continued he, with livid countenance and upturned eye, 'last night I dreamt I heard a voice,-'twas in the clouds! The Avenging Destroyer appeared with Retribution written on his brow! He spoke of "Backaway!" I saw thousands of labourers on a Strand, starving! And some were kneeling, and crying to Heaven for vengeance! And then I seemed to wake. The

Devil was in my house, with the whole of the "Backaway" bonds under his arm, which he had brought for full redemption! and he swore, my brethren, with a great, wicked oath, which shook the house, that he would have his pound of flesh! I bade him go to Fleasum-I said 'twas his affair! He said, "Be silent, sir!—I'll search your house!" He said he had got hold of Todi, and was grilling him on a slow fire! He ransacked all-'

'Enough, enough!' all cried; to go-or not to go?' 'Let's go, and get the Marquis's great Name!' said Lanky. 'I hate to snivel so,' wheezed St. Peter. 'I am but a poor, weak brother! We'll take Tracts, then, to give to the benighted tenantry of the Marquis.'

So, so, my boys, for he's a jolly good fellow!' put in burly John.

All the City men went to church, which they regarded, as many do, a theatre, made to shock, transport, or wither with its fire; and, when the play was over, pay the price and go. The Deity must be a Something in their kind estimation, else people wouldn't talk about Him so; else, when dire calamity befell, their quaking limbs would show more boldness! Everything beyond this Something was a myth: might be-who could tell? Why should one proclaim, without he yields his proof? was he privileged, &c.?

Now the Rector, so they had heard, was a novel kind of parson. He enjoyed the world, much as other men, with moderation; and having no sort of assumption, was honest, genial, and true. He paid no greater attention to the young, ardent, tender, and susceptible female members of his congregationthereby enhancing his reputation by the kudos thus acquiredthan to the old, decrepit, and weaker members-some said less -the younger ones to wit; and these said that they loved him at the bottom of their hearts all the better for it; and it resulted in these looking after and administering to the wants of the others, which was just what the Rector desired.

The tenantry all loved to go and hear him; but he always made allowances for them if they did not, for he knew what hard toil they had in the week-days. He never pressed them; he even encouraged innocent recreations on a Sunday, in which he sometimes joined. But they loved him so they generally went, for they were eager to hear what he had to say.

'I'll read my Master's words,' said he upon this occasion. 'Some of you may decline to have a Master,-may think it cringing even, and beneath you. While in the walks of Art, of

Science, and of Learning, you're too rejoiced to deal out praise where praise is due, yet, in the bright realms of Poetry, of Imagery, of Boundless Love and Truth, of Life beyond this short existence, you would deny His claim to your affection and your homage !'

He paused he looked around-his face was as a god's. All eyes were fixed upon the man who spoke with such soul and earnestness. Spirituelle thrilled every heart. Amid the solemn silence he proceeded.

'My Master said, "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man should lay down his life for his friends; ye are my friends ye do what I command you."

if

'There are many ways of laying down one's life for one's friends,' said he. 'Those who toil, wasting heart and brain in their service, are hourly laying down their lives for them, and every act of Love clings to its possessor. Becoming part of his being, its mighty influence renders actions which once appeared formidable easy of performance, and makes that life a charm which before looked black, frowning, and desolate !

'Ever on the look-out to add to his capital of Love, every new act of benevolence increases it.

'Life may pay the forfeit, but what is Life without Love? that Love which, the passage made, the streamlet waded, continues, with Life fading far, far in the distance, to open up an everwidening vista of existence! Why waste the precious hours of life,' he asked, 'without Love? Each sleepless night, and every aching pain, the fruits of self-sacrifice in a noble cause— -the cause of Love-these are those "commands" by doing which you be known as "friends of HIS."' And he said no more. The sensation-mongers were satisfied. 'Perhapth your thoul requireth it red hot, with brimthtone and pitth and thulphur! remarked Freddy.

shall

St. Peter was not.

Lanky thought it was lawful for the godly to pass one Sabbath without a sermon.

'But not expedient,' urged St. Peter.

'I verily believe it is,' insisted Lanky; and there was a strife among the Saints. Lanky had no idea of giving up the game of Fleasaway, because the brain which had conceived it, and the hand which would have pushed it forward, if secretly and irresponsibly, yet vigorously, were now paralysed in death. sighed for the Marquis's Name.

He

'Don't let us kick up a bobbery and fuss until we get this Name! I gave away handfuls of Tracts, and relieved my conscience-'