generated gas, used as fuel for the steam-engines | to my own fancy-at least to settle the points and other purposes, several valuable commercial which it was desirable to have happily cleared up. and agricultural products are obtained.

"It's the truth I'm telling yer honor, and ne'er | tinctly scan her delicate features; but I thought a word of a lie," persisted the man.

"Why, this is a strage thing," said the magistrate, "that such a fellow as you, whatever you may once have been,"-and he eyed him from head to foot, as if to search for some trace of better days-"that such as you should claim a lady of this appearance in the public street, while she denies all knowledge of you. Madam, I will not ask you a single question here; it is no place for explanation"-the crowd was gathering closer"but you will kindly accompany me to the police office, which is just at hand, and this man shall come in charge of an officer. Here," said he to a policeman, "bring him to the office, and I'll take charge of the lady."

They proceeded in perfect silence, the magistrate with the lady on one side of the street, the officer with the man on the other; while we, whose interest had been excited, were speculating on the event. If there was no foundation for the man's assertion, why did she not say who and what she was, and defy him to follow her home? But, on the other hand, she did not look like one that had lightly forsaken one protector for another. Her plain, substantial, respectable appearance, and modest demeanor, were prima facie evidence in her favor. It was of no use guessing: Mr. Causewell would elicit a full explanation. But as soon as they entered the office, the door was closed after them; and when the lady reappeared, it was to enter a covered car, which drove her rapidly away. The man must have got out by another door. It was said that both were bound over to appear next morning; but whatever the nature of the investigation, it was strictly private; and the story of this singular rencontre was not "to be continued" for the gratification of public curiosity.

if the lines of goodness were traced on them as unmistakably as they were on his, it was little wonder he was attracted. As for her, she seemed to be minding nothing but her devotions, and seldom looked up; perhaps she was conscious of meeting his eyes every time she did so, and that might have rivetted hers the more closely on her book. When Dr. Brown retired to prepare for the pulpit, the young man did not accompany him, as is usual; he remained standing in the desk, joining in the psalmody, and fixedly gazing at the young lady. When I raised my head at the conclusion of the service, he was standing stockstill half way down the stairs, as if waiting till she rose from her knees. When she did so, he hurried away to the vestry; and by the time we were half a dozen yards from the church, he was at her side. She seemed conscious of it, and embarrassed; tried to quicken her pace, but could not, for almost the whole congregation had to travel on onenarrow footpath, and we were among the last. I kept close behind; this was surely the beginning of a romantic episode; the young clergyman was certainly smitten; I would see whether he watched her home. Presently & light shower came on — so light that not half of those who had umbrellas put them up. The young man now broke silence. Would you like an umbrella?' said he, offering his to the young lady.

Thank you; I have one,' she replied, producing that which she held in the other hand.

Like an arrow from a bow, he darted to the other side of the street, and fairly ran down the first turning in an opposite direction, nor stopped, nor stayed, nor looked back till he was out of sight. Did he ever see her again? I never learned. The thing looked like a bit of romance well begun, but not to be continued.'

A few years further back. One summer Sunday evening, I went to service in a church which Further back still, to recall a scene of early I did not usually attend. Immediately beneath childhood. Forty or fifty years ago, the merthe reading-desk there was a large semicircular chants of London lived not, as now, in suburban pew which was appropriated to the incumbent, villas, and squares, and terraces, but in courts, but which he did not use otherwise than to place opening off the busy streets of the city. Those it at the service of such of his friends as might be who are familiar with the life of Samuel Johnonly occasional attendants. I was one of these, son and his metropolitan contemporaries, are and on the evening in question the pew was pretty quite at home, in imagination, with Bolt Court, full. Prayers were read by a singularly inter- Crane Court, and others in that quarter-the esting looking young man. His countenance literary one in those days-while some may might be pronounced beautiful, beaming as it was even require to be informed that a court in with the enthusiasm of one to whom the sacred London is a short street without any thoroughoffice was new and delightful. There was not a line fare. The earliest home I remember was in of weakness about those fine features, but great such a court. Ours was the furthest house, simplicity of expression, bespeaking him fresh and we had no opposite neighbors but the dead; from his home and his books, little hackneyed in the other side being bounded by the parish the ways of the world, and entering with zeal and church-yard, which formed our front view. Beardor upon his holy vocation. I had read all this hind we had a paved yard, which was screened in his countenance and manner ere he had got from the view of the dining-room windows by a through the opening exhortation, and had taken conservatory, or green-house, as it was then with me the recollection that, as Dublin College called, filled with exotic plants. One could does not require residence, it might be even as I scarcely imagine it possible to enjoy a residence thought. After a little while, his attention so quiet and secluded within five minutes' walk seemed to have fastened on a young lady in this of London Bridge. Perhaps it may be thought same pew; he never looked from his book but to it was melancholy too, looking out upon a look at her; and he had not the art to conceal, church-yard; but it seemed not so to my childat least from me who sat so near, that his interest was greatly excited. She was a slim, lady-like girl, apparently about eighteen. I could not dis

ish fancy. We rather welcomed the approach of a funeral procession, as it afforded the only variety, the only thing like life that was ever to

be seen from our nursery windows. We did not

'Robinson.' It was the son of the merchant

gone. A surgeon was instantly sent for; but he could do nothing except pronounce that the vertebral column had been broken in the neck, and that all was over. Moreover, as he was acquainted next door, he was thought the most proper person to go in and communicate with the family.

think of the sadness of death, or the grief of who lived next door. the relatives; probably nobody had ever re- 'And, my poor fellow,' said my father, 'what minded us of it: we gathered round the win-were you doing?' Another groan, and he was dows, and opened all our ears with childish solicitude, to ascertain whether the white-robed priest designated the departed a "brother" or a sister," the maid having taught us to consider this a point of great importance. Of course it was a ruse of hers, to induce us to forego our noisy play, and maintain the decorous silence which became the occasion; and truly it answered the purpose, to the saving of a world of scolding and lecturing. No, it was not the church-yard, it was the pretty green-house that saddened the days of my childhood.

The sisters of the ill-fated young man were sitting up for their father, who had dined out, and was not yet home. After hearing the surgeon's recital, they proceeded with him and the watchman to the melancholy task of examining their brother's room. The bed had not been lain in, One night, as my parents were retiring to rest, everything was as usual; but the dressing-closet they heard a heavy crash, and almost at the was locked inside, and the keyhole stuffed with same moment, a fearful cry between a shriek paper. The explorers burst open the door, and and a groan. My father rang the bell-asked found the candle burning, and the window wide if any one had fallen out of bed - despatched the servant to inquire in the room where my elder sisters slept with their governess, and himself hastened to the nursery. But all was right. Again a groan-there must be some stranger about the house; he returned to his room for pistols. With one of these in one hand, and a candle in the other, he began resolutely to search the house, closely attended by my mother, who, though in a situation of extreme delicacy, would not allow him to go alone. The first thought was of the spare bedroom, where a good deal of plate was lying open for we had had a dinner-man. Ha-yesparty that day, and the things which were used only for company had been put there, to await the morrow's cleaning and locking-up. There was no one there; no trace of an intruder; but the window, which had been fastened within the last half-hour, was wide open.

open. The young man had got out here on the
house-top, over which he had scrambled to the
back of our house, and, whether making for the
spare bedroom window or not, had fallen right
past it upon the roof of the green-house. What
his object might be, no one could make out.
The surgeon, who remained with the young la-
dies, sounded and sifted them in vain. About
two in the morning, the father came home, mer-
ry with wine. Ha, Mr. Hooper, how d'ye do?
Glad to see you, my good fellow. The surgeon
looked gravely and steadily at the thoughtless
true- something must be
the matter-odd hour for you to be here.'
'Yes; your son, sir, has met with an acci-
dent.'

'Little wonder; the young rascal was always foolhardy; he'll break his neck some day. Nothing serious, doctor, I hope ?'

his

There must be robbers about the house; will We will not attempt to describe the sequel as one of you call a watchman?' said my father to Hooper described it to us; the fearful awakening the trembling domestics who crept behind; but of the father at once to perfect sobriety, and to the one and all declared they would not stir for any knowledge of what had befallen his sonconsideration. "Must I go myself?' said he. only son. The body was removed into the house : "Oh no,' exclaimed my mother; "you cannot I never heard what amount of scrutiny took place leave us unprotected: I would rather go myself at the coroner's inquest; it was probably hudthan stay behind with these helpless children and dled up with a verdict of‘Accidental death,' and cowardly women.' So off she would go, just as no particulars reported. The relatives gave it she was, in her dressing-gown and slippers, though out as a melancholy case of somnambulism, it was mid-winter-down the court into the though it was evident the young man had not street, calling: Watch! watch!' at the top of been in bed that night. We children were told her voice. A watchman was soon found, and it was a foolish frolic - he was going to frightthe search of the house was continued. Nothing en our maids by looking in at their attic window. was seen to account for what had been heard, My father would believe, and still does, that it till they entered the green-house, and there, in- was a plundering expedition, and that some acdeed, lay a man overhead, moaning low and pit-complice in our house opened the window where eously. The great difficulty was how to reach him; and at length the large ironing board was put out of the nearest window, and gently laid on the glass, by which means it was found possible to bring in the dying wretch.

Who are you, and what were you about?' demanded the watchman.

A feeble groan of O Mr. Malcolm !' was the only response.

For Heaven's sake, who are you?' cried my father, hearing himself thus appealed to. 'Tell us your name, or I'll shoot you!' added the watchman.

the silver-plate was lying; but still the old gentleman adds with solemnity: 'It will never be known till the judgment-day.

Probably some female of our household was in the fatal secret; but none had the weakness to betray it. No single gleam of light was ever shed on the story of that midnight visit. It was 'to be continued' indeed; but only in the sorrows which it entailed on our once happy family. The birth of a still-born infant; the protracted illness and subsequent death of our beloved mother; the dispersion of brothers and sisters who have never all met again—such was the continuation, and the only one, of poor, young Robinson's story.

From Household Words.
MORTON HALL.

CHAPTER THE FIRST.

OUR old Hall is to be pulled down, and they are going to build streets on the site. I said to my sister, "Ethelinda! if they really pull down Morton Hall, it will be a worse piece of work than the Repeal of the Corn Laws." And, after some consideration, she replied, that if she must speak what was on her mind, she would own that she thought the Papists had something to do with it; that they had never forgiven the Morton who had been with Lord Monteagle when he discovered the Gunpowder Plot; for we knew that somewhere in Rome there was a book kept, and which had been kept for generations, giving an account of the secret private history of every English family of note, and registering the names of those to whom the Papists owed either grudges or gratitude.

a long piece of rather lonely road, with high hedges on either side, between Morton village and Drumble. Now it is all street, and Morton seems but a suburb of the great town near. Our farm stood where Liverpool Street runs now; and people used to come snipe-shooting just where the Baptist Chapel is built. Our farm must have been older than the Hall, for we had a date of fourteen hundred and sixty on one of the cross-beams. My father was rather proud of this advantage, for the Hall had no date older than fifteen hundred and fifty-four; and I remember his affronting Mrs. Dawson, the housekeeper, by dwelling too much on this circumstance one evening when she came to drink tea with my mother, when Ethelinda and I were mere children. But my mother, seeing that Mrs. Dawson would never allow that any house in the parish could be older than the Hall, and that she was getting very warm, and almost insinuating that the Sidebothams had forged the date to disparage the Squire's family, and set themselves up as having the older blood, asked Mrs. Dawson to tell us the story of old Sir John Morton, before we went to bed; I slily reminded my father that Jack, our man, was not always so careful as might be in housing the Alderney in good time in the autumn evenings. So he started up, and went off see after Jack; and Mrs. Dawson and we drew nearer the fire to hear the story about Sir John.

We were silent for some time; but I am sure the same thought was in both our minds; our ancestor, a Sidebotham, had been a follower of the Morton of that day; it had always been said in the family that he had been with his master, when he went with the Lord Monteagle, and found Guy Fawkes and his dark lantern under the Parliament House; and the question flashed across our minds, Were the Sidebothams marked with a black mark in that terrible mysterious book which was kept under lock and key by the Sir John Morton had lived sometime about the Pope and the Cardinals in Rome? It was ter- Restoration. The Mortons had taken the right rible; yet, somehow, rather pleasant to think of. side, so when Oliver Cromwell came into power, So many of the misfortunes which had happened he gave away their lands to one of his Puritan to us through life, and which we had called followers - -a man who had been but a praying, "mysterious dispensations," but which some of canting, Scotch pedlar, till the war broke out; our neighbors had attributed to our want of pru- and Sir John had to go and live with his royal dence and foresight, were accounted for at once, master at Bruges. The upstart's name was Carr, if we were objects of the deadly hatred of such a who came to live at Morton Hall; and, I'm powerful order as the Jesuits; of whom we had proud to say, we-I mean our ancestors - led lived in dread ever since we had read the Female him a pretty life. He had hard work to get any Jesuit. Whether this last idea suggested what rent at all from the tenantry, who knew their dumy sister said next, I can't tell; we did know ty better than to pay it to a Roundhead. If he the Female Jesuit's second cousin, so might be took the law to them, the law officers fared so said to have literary connections, and from that badly, they were shy of coming out to Morton→ the startling thought might spring up in my sis-all along that lonely road I told you of -again. ter's mind, for, said she, "Biddy!" (my name is Bridget, and no one but my sister calls me Biddy), suppose you write some account of Morton Hall; we have known much in our time of the Mortons, and it will be a shame if they pass away completely from men's memories while we can speak or write." I was pleased with the notion, I confess; but I felt ashamed to agree to it all at once, though even as I objected for modesty's sake, it came into my mind how much I had heard of the old place in its former days, and how it was perhaps all I could now do for the Mortons, under whom our ancestors had lived as tenants for more than three hundred years. So at last I agreed; and, for fear of mistakes, I showed it to Mr. Swinton, our young curate, who has put it quite in order for me.

Morton Hall is situated about five miles from the centre of Drumble. It stands on the outskirts of a village, which, when the Hall was built, was probably as large as Drumble in those days; and even I can remember when there was

Strange noises were heard about the Hall, which got the credit of being haunted; but as those noises were never heard before or since that Richard Carr lived there, I leave you to guess if the evil spirits did not know well over whom they had power -over schismatic rebels, and no one else. They durst not trouble the Mortons, who were true and loyal, and were faithful followers of King Charles in word and deed. At last old Oliver died, and folks did say that on that wild and stormy night his voice was heard high up in the air, where you hear the flocks of wild geese skirl, crying out for his true follower, Richard Carr, to accompany him in the terrible chase the fiends were giving him before carrying him down to hell. Anyway, Richard Carr died within a week-summoned by the dead or not, he went his way down to his master, and his master's master.

Then his daughter Alice came into possession. Her mother was somehow related to General Monk, who was beginning to come into power

It was

Robinson. be we from our nursery windows. We did not dich of the suduse of death, or the grief of who lived next door the relatives; probably nobody had ever And, my poor fell winded us of it we gathered round the win were you doing ! dows, and opoued all our cars with childish so gone. A surgeon licitude, to ascertain whether the white-robed could do nothing ex brother" or a bral column had priest desiguated the departed a ploder," in muid having taught us to consider that all was over. this a point of great importance. Of course it ed next door, he wa Wie a ruse of hers, to induce us to forego our person to go in and misy play, and maintain the decorous silence which became the occasion; and truly it answered the purpose, to the saving of a world of Bolding and lecturing. No, it was not the church-yard, it was the pretty green-house that suddened the days of my childhood.