The young fisherman, or, The cruiser of the English Channel
page: (TitlePage) [View Page (TitlePage) ]~z; f "f .', T.HE~xkfrt549?~-ttv OIL, THE CRUISER OF THE ENGLISH OLIANNEL. BY F. CLINTON ARIX-ow9 BOSTON:' F.e GLEA eN'S PIJBLIIlJNG hALL, UORtNER 0 } O~FtIELD AD_ B Q E ~ 8 E ner J ccc rd ing yy to A ct of Cn ess ^ . n 'the y rk8 1 yjj " f U/M r a !i i A 2~ ~ 4 V f District Cbur Lt ofJiasae&Y u.1 V N V 7 {1 N I 1 v.y, f T 1 I I page: Advertisement[View Page Advertisement] 4 PUBLISHER'S NOTE.-The following Novelette was originally published in the PITORIAL DnAWIN-RooM COMPANION, and is but a specimen of 'the many deeply-entertaining Tales, and gems of literary merit, which grace the columns of that elegant and highly-popular journal. The COMPANION embodies a corps of contributors of rare literary excellence, and is regarded as the ne plus ultra by its scores of thousands of readers. GLEASON'S PICTORIAL DRWIR4f10M IOPAIUR, A RECORD OF THE BEAUTIFUL AND USEFUL IN ART. 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ROYS, 43 Woodward Avenue, Detroit. E. K. WOODWARD, corner of Fourth and Chesnut Streets, St. Louis. Subscriptions received at either of the above places. 3 ,7D; U~$1' +A, try spotted with. innuinxe ble specq,;somwpwhite d snow-flakes, others black! as thqyp egated their ilhtmined or, ebadowy sids ,totha e There are vessels.of all':sizes and mreot rs "steering everyone on a i erent ppgo eon errands of commerce) others beating me ages of war. Here and there amongthem; goeaa dark, mast- less craft, trailing a lgg;clou49tsopgepe smoke after her along, the air, an& posing ship. sfter ship with a speed that mocks tam, Such is the'present spes-'t'ete Iseenery visi ble from the.elifforwhich stands Castle Vane., on any bright morning auner. ut at th period of. our talerits featre e w j oiewhat different.% Nosteam~~p these plQ gh t o t nel, and fewer vessels were;sepp Jg panse *: hi eCastlo e9ig be suin, lifted iitas;dalls :n4t ern4 bristli battleieeits -as''high , pradl y j"any lordly castle in the land of inglegd , y iAlmot-verhtng by tlhemi le w the small fishingport of Brigt onet of threescore huts, whe .'hor a rs't on r. ir i j r, ( t . i zf + 1._el t 9 CHAPTER L' CASTLE VANE-A YOUNG FISHERMAN. ON the'shores of the Sussex, there is no ob- ject that fills with a deeper' interest the eye of the tourist, both on account of its picturesqub aspect and itshistorical asstoiations; than Castle Vane. At the present time it is a stately ruin, but yet majestic in decay. Time, while rending, its massive towers; has also bound them together witistrong net-work of vines of ivy and creep- ing plants, so that they stand like venerable age pnorted by the entwining arm of'charity and filiallove. The prospect from the eminence -on which stands this noble ruin is varied-and'wide-extend- ed. Northwardly, the -green vales and pleasant uiplands of aMerry England" retire, away till' softly lost 'ix the dissolving distauee To the, eastand west are seen turreted towns and ports with anchored shipping aidt defending fortresses. To the douth is outspread' the shining, blue{ waters of the channel,'briad nd mirrorliko, 'r J'and bounded in the far sontliex'iiherizon' hfthe faint azure-gray'line'f the coast of Normtandy The glimmering sheed of the 'aualit channel is 4 0 TUE TOUNO FISHERMAN. page: 8-9[View Page 8-9] 8 class of men, who subsisted by fishing in the channel. From the terrace of the castle one could toss a penny into the chimney tops of two or three of the nearest cottages, though the dwellings were generally some distance apart, following the windings of a street around the a curving shore of the cove. There was an air of neatness and thrift about most of the habita- tions, each having a small garden patch and a yard in front wherein to dry their nets and fish. If there was any superiority in the appearance of either of these cabins over the other, it was to be claimed by one which stood near the foot of the cliff, and close to the path which wound from the beach to its summit. This superioriy consisted in its being whitewashed, and in hav- ing vines growing over the narrow doorway in imitation of an alrch, beneath which were two wooden benches, from which, persons seated upon them had a pleasant view of the channel with its moving craft. That spot, also, wherein the other fishermen dried their nets, was by the proprietor of this abode made.a flower garden, while on the surrounding rocks were spread his nets and sun-dried fish. One evening in May, in the year 1650, about half an hour before sunset, a fishing boat came sailing into the cove from the channel, and steered directly for the rude landing is front of the cottage 'we have described. its bow was shattered! and it was evidently leaking freely,. and kept from sinking oily by-the extraordinary exerions of a young fisherman, who was its sole; occupant, and who was :bailing out water con-- stantly as he approached the shore: At -length the smack touched the beach, and with an ex- clamatiol of satisfaction the young man leaped on shore. Theldahgrln which the boat had ,been was apparMd *6 ore than, one in the village, and encouraging lhouts had been sent to the young man's'earfkeepup his strength and not lose his coiirag&. herefore, on reaching the land in efety, he foun& himself in the midst 'of some score of is group, composed of the fishers' wives, of maides, and of such old men as=had given oper=ctive service, They looked at the shat- tered bow of the boat with surprise, and while sone e6ngratulsied him with having gpt safely. tolandaoth isagerly inquired how e had got. solidly wrede : " It is of no consequence, friends," answered the young man, as he secured the boat-to one of he posts of the pier, "acei4ents will happen at * , ea, you know- I THE 'UNG FISHERMAN. This was said with a pleasant laugh; but his mother, who drew near to welcome him after the danger she conceived he had been in from drowning-for he had been seen by her a league at sea, struggling to save his boat, which he had so gallantly brought in-knew that the smile was forced and unnatural to his usually frank and open face. " There is something in this," she said shak- ing her head and turning to two of her particu- lar gossips, " there is something in this matter more 'than Guilford sees fit to tell." The young man,having secured the craft high up on the beach and furled'the sails, shouldered a pair of. oars, and with a flushed brow, and a proud, defiant air, strode up towards the cottage, without regarding-'his friends, whom he left ex- amining the boat and wondering how it could have been so shattered unless it had been run into. -" That is it," asserted an old fisherman, who had carefully examined the broken shearing " she ha' been run into, an' by a heavier craft than herself. " The young fisherman, having deposited his oars in the becket above one of the cottage win- dows,.on the outside of the house, instead of going in, began to pace up and down in the lit- tle shell-covered walk before it. His eyes were restless and fiery,his attitude erect andewarlike, and ;his- heavy step seemed to fall tr the sound of a" trumpet. Something: evidently had' oc- curred to rouse in the bosom pf the young fish- erman all the pride, independence, and haughty resentment of the man; for beneath the fustian jacket may beat as much pride and sense of honor as beneath the ermine of u born noble. The appearance of 'the young fisherman was superior to that of young men of his class and occupation. This superiority did not consist in dreso, for his clothing-was as coarse and rude as that of any of his fellows ; nor in the symmetry of his person, for there were, in the hamlet. as well shaped young men as he ; but it was in the' noble expression of his whole form and face. He looked like onebor. rather to command those with whom ho daily associated, than to be merely their equal. This innate power in him they recognized, though it was never demanded by him f'or he eemed wholly unconscious of a superiority of which all others in the hamlet were instinctively conscious.- His face was handsome, and- perhaps- not less so for being browned by the sea winds till it'was almost as A dark as the Arabian. His eyes were black, and filled with intelligence and courage. As a sea- man he had no equal on the Sussex coast, of his age, all men acknowledged. As a fisherman he was skilled in the craft, in all its details, so that no one ever surpassed him in success. If other boats came back empty, Guilford Gra- ham's was sure to contain some fruits of his skill and patience. In trials of strength and agility in those holiday sports which the youths of the hamlet used to indulge in, challenging to competition some inland village, he always came off vctor. For filial obedience in support- ing a widowed mother, for manly protection of his beautiful cousin, Anne .Graham, for his fast abiding as a friend, and his reverence for holy things, Guilford was an example to all the young men on the coast. His popular manners, his constant cheerfulness and good nature, made him a general favorite ; and many a pretty1 maiden sighed in her heart for the love of the handsome Guilford. " What aileth thee, my son ?" asked his moth- er. " Something hath gone across thy temper,' and shade thee vexed,-tell me what is the mat- ter with thee ?" He stopped in his fierce walk, turned, and taking both ber hands in his, he pressed them with affectionate respect, and looking her in the 9 face, would have spoken ; but some strong emo- tion rising, checked his utterance, and tears filled his eyes and ran down his cheeks. He re- leased her' hands, dashed the glittering drops from his face, and v'ould have walked away, when she gently held him. "Nay, Guilford, you must come and sit down in the porch and tell me what has happened. Tears in my brave boy's eyes ! Ah, something heavy has pressed upon thy soul this day, to force tears from thee !" " Come and sit down, mother, and I will tell thee," he said, after a moment's hiternal'-strug- gle. " You are wise and discreet, and may be able to advise me. But you will not despise me when you shall know all my rash folly ?" "You must first prove to me that you have been rash or foolish, who were never known to be so," said his mother, who, though humble in station and poorly attired, seemed to be, as he had said, a wise and discreet woman ; being a person of that plain common sense, so much oftener found in low conditions of life, than in tile more artificial circles of society ; and to her influence was owed, doubtless, his superiority,- for it is the woman that forms the character of the growing man, and her plastic hand leaves its impression on every moral outline. THE YOUNG FISHI MAN. ~ . r '4 r x ,: t " - f .. + vj "3 +!, } ! jq, j e. i page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] I 1 CHAPTER II. A NARRATIVE OF INTEREST. THE young man had led his mother to the " ihat is not so certain, my boy," she said, wooden bench beneath the green arch that gravely but doubtingly ; " butif we may worship spanned the humble doorway, and there, shel- the blessed Mary, we may not worship earthly teredby the growing foliage, he said to her: maidens." " Mother, when you have heard what I-have "I can see no harm in adoring one so fair and to say, give me your wisest counsel. If I were good as the Lady Catharine, dear mother," an- to act, led only by my own impulses, I can see swered the young fisherman, with enthusiasm. plainly that I should do a greater evil than has "You should not think of her, my son, for been done tome. You remember with what your words and looks make me fear." buoyancy I left this morning to go on my daily '"No evil can come of honoring and delighting fishing cruise ?" in Lady Catharine, dear mother. She always " Yes, and spoke of it to Anne before she speaks to me so graciously. The day, you re- went to the castle. Methinks I never saw you member, when I succeeded in saving the noble- look-handsomer or appear happier." men who were driven on the coast in a French "And well might I have looked happy, dar barque, she told me she only wished that she.* mother; I had just seen and spoken with Lady could have had a brother who could have done Catharine !" this; and ever since then, although it is a year " Yes, it always makes one cheerful to see her ago, she has always seemed to speak to me with sunny face, boy." a peculiar kindness.", " Ah, dear mother, you know not how the " One of them that you saved was her uncle, sunshine of her face penetrates to and warms my Sir Harry Vane, and she feels grateful. My heart. In ,her presence I feel a joy-a bliss-a son, do not think of the great ; their words are happiness, that I experience at no other time. air, and their smiles deceit and guile. If you The sound of her voice thrills to my inmost soul. go on thinking somuch about every smile and, I feel that I could worship her, and adore the word a noble lady gives you, you will do some very flower crushed by her footstep." foolish thing. Forget the Lady Catharine, boy, " You should not speak thus, my boy ; it is a 4d if you must think of fair maidens, which is sin to worship only God."' natural enough for a youth of four-and-twenty, " And the Virg- " let it be of those of thine own station." THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. 11 1"There are tales of noble maidens being loved and won' by lowly youths, mother," answered Guilford, with a certain light of hope and daring speaking in his fine eyes. " And only in tales ,are they won-never in reality and truth, my son." - - " We will not talk of this now, mother. Hear what I have to say to thee touching what hath happened to-day." " That is what I would most listen to." "After I had embarked this morning for the channel grounds to fish, and when I had 'got out to the rocks over which we cast our lines, I lowered my sails and proceeded to fish as usual. It was a cloudless day, and the fish swam too deep for my hooks, and so I lay back listlessly in my boat, and amused myself, as I love to do when I am rocking alone in my boat out on the bounding sea, with gazing abgut me. A hun- dred craft similar to my own were riding gently upon the undulating waves, and here and there could be seen a tall ship with triple towers of white canvas, crossing from England to France or from France to England. But those-objects soon wearield my eyes, which very shortly rested upon the cliff and lordly tower that soars above our little hamlet. Its castellated angles and battlements were figured in strong, dark lines against the blue sky, and'it seemed the proper home of the noble' lord who dwells there." 'You speak of our Castle Vane, my son." " Yes, mother. As my eye rested upon it, I could not but recall its fairest inmate ; for I never behold'it that I do not think less of every one it contains than of the Lady Catharine. To my imagination she seemed the' only dweller there. Nay, do not frown, mother. As I was gazing on the castellated pile, I recalled, not only the lovely face and form of Lady Catha rine, but the time when we first met. Do you remember it, dear mother ?" " Nay, I do not mind such little matters. It was so long ago thou shouldst scarce remind it.' " I shall'never forget it. It is a delight foi me to recall it, ad a joy to talk of it. It wa five years ago only. I was then nineteen, an it was my birth-day fete ; and on that occasion you had presented me with a new jacket, an cousin Anne had 'broidered for me a gay cap." "IAh, well do I recollect the jacket and cap and how gallant you looked in them my bOy." . "After supperI was going to a dance at Tin A Dowlin's, in honor of his pretty daughter Peggy' marriage, when, as I was crossing the road tha leads from the bench round by the mill, in order to reach Tim's before dark, I saw a horse com- ing towards me at full speed along the old Sus- sex road. On it was a young girl, who had lost all command'of the animal, who, with the 'reins flying, was evidently running away with her. ' She did not shriek, nor speak a word, but as she approached me she cast on me such looks of appeal for succor, that, regardless, of danger, I threw myself with both'hands upon the horse's head, and dropping to the ground,.let him drag me several yards before he could be checked. At 'every leap forward he made, I expected to. feel his iron hoofs crushing into my chest ; but the beauty and imploring looks of the lovely girl, which seemed to appeal to me as her last and only hope of life, gave 'me courage, and strength; 'and at length I brought the horse's head and knees to the ground, and held him with a power of muscle that I have never felt the possession of since; until shegot from the saddle unharmed. I then released my hold of the horse, who furiously bounded away like the wind. My next thought was of the young girl . I had been instrumental in saving. She sprang towards me; grasped me by both hands in the warmest manner, and with eyes filled With tears, and smiling with gratitude, she said with emo- tion: " How can words thank you! How can aiy- thing I can express, young stranger, recompense you for the risk of life yog have run for el' " I need no thanks, lady," I said to her, " the consciousness of ydur safety is all the reward I can ask or wish for." " As I made her this answer, I looked, dear mother, with wonder upon the extraordinary t beauty of her face. I had never imagined there was such loveliness on earth.. She was about fifteen years of age, but with the charming rich. ness of form of one two or three years older. t Her eyes were a soft azure, that rivalled the bending blue of a summer sky on thb seg. Her, r hood was thrown back, and her golden tresses s dishevelled bythe swiftness with which her horse'. d had sped with her in his mad'flight, and I was completely bewildered with the glory of her I beauty. "'Will you tell me,' she said, in tones that have never ceaed to echo musically in my-souli ' to whom Iam indebted for saving.me from .a a painful accident, or perhaps a dreadful death'11 a " It is no matter, lady ; my namn is nothing ; t it is humble, and if spoken, will be forgotten by. one so noble as thou art. ' A . - ;, " : i r , w s r , .. _' . N page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] 12 THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. ,R "'Dost thou know me, then ?' she asked, with a smile of surprise. 'I have not been here, before since I was a very little child.' "I do not know thy name, lady, but I see that thou art one of the high born of the land. I would, for thy sake, that he who has served thpe to-day had been thy equal. Shall Iremain near thee, as it is growing late, till thy party comes up, I asked of her, something gloomily, too, I fear, for I then, for, the first time, my mother, felt what it was to be born of low de- gree. To gaze upon one so fair and good, and so made to be loved, and feel that I could never be more to her-than a common hind-this-- this made my cheek kindle and my very heart sink." " Guilford, thou art too 'ambitious ; be con- tent to be what thou art, or thou wilt be a mis. erable man. Thou canstnot change thy nature. Nobles are born nobles--fishermen are born fish- ermen. Do thy duty in what thou art." "It is well to talk, mother, but'that does not make one's wretchedness and consciousness of debasement the less." "Go on wig} thy story, for I never heard all this before."- "tNo, another ear, save that of my cousin Anne ; and she listened to it with but little in- terest to what thou dost, mother." - "Who -was this maiden ? am I right in guess- ing to be the Lady Catharine, on the day she came up to the- castle from London, where she had lived, since she was a child? " " Yes, mother. When I at length told her my name, she answered, that hers was Kate Vane." , " Lady Kate, you mean ? " "No. She said plain Kate Vane; and this, with the pretty way she spoke it, made me like her. I saw she was not proud, although' I told her I was a fisherman; for when she asked me to shower the way to the castle, and we walked on together, she. asked me a great.many ques tons about the sea, and the fishes, and the way I caught them; and said, of all things, she should like to go out some day in my boat, fish ing with me. Well, after half an hour's walk- the pleasantest half hour of my life, we reached the castle gate. The day had already closed and the moon was shining brightly.' The-castl was in a scene of confusion and distress, and just as we entered, several persons with torches on foot and on horseback, were coining forth talking so loudly that we understood from their words that - the horse which Lady 'Kate had ridden had reached the castle, and that it was supposed she had been thrown and killed. But when she was seen and recognized, who shall describe the joy. I was quite overlooked in the first outburst of the surprise and delight of"all, and instantly withdrew. As I descended the path, I heard my name called by some one from the gate who had been sent for me,-doubtless after Lady Kate had time to, tell them to whom' she had been indebted for. her escape ; but as I had no wish to be Thanked by any other than Lady Catharine, I quickened my pace, and soon reached the road on the beach. Instead of going home, I'continued my original route to Tim's ; and as I passed the spot where I had stopped the horse, I paused to recall the scene, her face and voice. As I did so, my eyes were attracted by something which sparkled in the moonlight. I picked it up from the ground, and with pleasure discovered that it was a broken ring. It had evidently been broken by her strong grasp upon the bridle, and dropped in two pieces from her finger when she alighted.. It was a diamond set in a circle of pearls. I pressed it to my lips-"- " Daring boy !" said the mother, half pleased at his gallantry, yet half disapproving, knowing as she did the dangerous tendency of such emo- tions, when once awakened in the bosom of a lowly born youth towards- a high-born maiden. She sighed while she smiled; but the smile passed, leaving a troubled air upon her calm and - sensible face. " You returned the ring, of course, Guilford?" "When next I saw her; but she bade me keep it, or rather offered me one in its place, as she saw Ivalued it as a memento; but when I told her I would prefer the broken one, found on I the spot where I had first the happiness.of seeing her, she told me I might keep it if I would wish I to." "And when and where did you meet her, my son'?." e " Only the next week after. I was coming in - from the channel, and steered my boat closer under the castle than usual, for I thought I saw d the form of a young girl on the white beach. I , was not deceived. It was the Lady Kate, gather- e ing shells. Upon recognizing me sailing past, , she beckoned to me to land., I did so, for I , wished to return the ring. She at once began , playfully to chide me for leaving the castle so r abruptly, without waiting to be thanked by her father and brother, and her friends, for what I had done. I told her I did not wish to be thanked at all; but if any one was to thank me, one word from her was a world of thanks. She then told me that she had been riding with her elder brother, who was dn Oxford student, then at home on a-visit, ahead of her party, when a shot fired by him from his saddle at a heron, had caused'her horse to take fright and run off with her. 'My brother,' she said, 'followed me, but as I turned to the left, while he took'to the left, he missed me ; and but for you I should have been killed, for I could not have kept my saddle three minutes longer, as I was fast losing all presence of mind. You must come up to the castle and let my father know you,' she added. But I told her that I was too lowly to be no- ticed by nobles, and that I was too proud to be compelled to feeltheir superiority. At this, she looked at me with a stare of beautiful surprise, and shaking her head she said archly : "'I fear you will 'be too proud to speak to me by-and-by.' "0, no, you don't understand me, lady." "'Yes I do, and what is more, I respect you for your feelings,' she added. 'I can conceive how one like you must feel when you are com- pelled to endure the superiority of others, who may, in reality, be your inferiors. But you will not find my father such a nobleman. He knows how to appreciate merit ; and as for my brother, I heard him say that he should find you out to thank you.' "I then offered to her the ring, which, 4a I said, she permitted me to retain. Seeing that she liked the beautiful shells which were scattered on the beach, of which she had a basket full, but of indifferent value, I offered to bring her others from the king's rock beach, where they are to be found of such rare colors. I then sailed to the beach and landed to take hey, basket, for our conversation had taken place while I was stand- ing in my boat, about ten yards from the land, when a young man, clad as a hunter, followed by a couple of dogs, caume round a jutting angte of the cliff. He was of the middle height, well made, with long flaxen hair flowing on his shoulders,.a brown, moustache, and a fair, red and white complexion.' He was exceedingly handsome, but an air of angry surprise which he put on upon discovering us, increased the dis- agreeable impression his naturally haughty bear- ing madeupon sie. I saw at a glance that he was a noble, and the exclamation of Lady Kate, 'my brother !' told me who he was without fur. ther introduction." '4 13 THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. 12 i _+F . y s }7 ' r,_ 4 f i « page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] 0 CHAPTER III. A HAUGHTY INTERRUPTION. *"Tu young nobleman," resumed Guilford, continuing his narrative to his mother, in the green embowered porch of the cottage, "stood for an instant regarding fist one and then the other of us without a word. - He then strode up and said haughtily: " Who and what are you, that are so familiar as to hold converse with this lady, and with thy cap on, fellow ?' With these words he struck off my cap to my feet, and one of his dogs taking it up, carried it off, tearing it with his teeth "'1Lord Wilmot, how can you be so rash!' ex- claimed Lady Catharine, with a mingled ex- pression of pain for me and anger against him. 'This is the young man, Guilford Graham.' "'And who, pray, is Guilford Graham ' he repeated, sarcastically. "'Have you forgotten the name of the brave youth, who, at the risk of his own life, saved mine ' "'IHow should one remember every hind's name ? So, young man, you are the clown that risked your life and broke the jaw of the best horse in my father's stud ; for the horse, came to the castle with his jaw broken as with a sledge- hammer, and we had to 'shoot him. You have a hand like Samson. But you did'the thing well, thought it cost a horse worth a thousand guineas.'4 "' Brother, how can you speak of su-ch a trifle, when my life was at stake ' " ' True, but a discreet person should save one and not destroy the other. There, fellow, are four guineas ! I dare swear thou hast not seen so much gold together before, and that it would take a year's fishing to give thee in haid the same amount.' " As he spoke, he threw the gold at my feet. I did not notice it. I had felt insulted by his manner, as well as by his words, and by this act. I did not deign to glance towards him; but I looked in the face of Lady Catharine. Hereyes . were alight with just resentment. She felt that- I had been insulted, peasant as I was. "' Wilmot, why do reward courage in such a strange fashion ? ne would fancy you had found in this young man a foe, rather than one to whom you owe a debt of gratitude.' "'Gratitude to one like him!' answered the young Lord Vane, with a contemptuous glance at the coarse apparel of Guilford. 'I have paid him for his service u gold. What fault can he, find I By the rood ! " t'would seem, from the familiar manner in wl ich; I found him holding converse with you, K*e,:that he presumed more than becometh a hin& -Fellow, get into. thy boat and begone ; and think not, because c'hance- hath made thee the mean instrument ofsaving 14+ a high born lady's life, that thouhast gage there- from for speaking to her.'-- "'He did but offer to collect shells for me, brother,' said the Lady Catharine, reproachfully, 1I called to him. le is in no ways to blame.' "'Then it is you who are to blame, to de- scend to speak to a youth like this, who will boast in the ale-houses among his fellows that he has held tryst with the Lady Kate Vane.' " At these words, the eyes of the maiden flash- ed fire, but instantly filling with tears, she said: You are ungenerous, Rudolph.' " In the meanwhile," said Guilford, addressing his mother, "I stood amazed and burning with indignation ; and I really believe that if he had not been the brother of the fair Lady Catharine, I should have struck him to the earth for his in- sulting words to her. But finding that my pres- ence only made him more bitter towards her, and fearing a collision, which might render it necessary for me to strike him in self-defence, I got into my boat, but taking the basket with me, resolved to redeem my promise to bring it to her on some more auspicious day, filled with the shells she so greatly admired. I therefore made sail and left them on the beach at the foot of the castle; but soon I saw them together mak- ingstheir'way up the path to the gate-way at the - round tower." " And then you made anenemy-of young Lord Vane forever." " It may be so. He, soon afterwards left for Oxford, where he has remained the most of the time until three days ago, when he returned." "Tid you receive and take away the gold ?" " No; I saw him stoop and gather it up after I had sailed away. The obligation to me, therefore, on his part, remained in full force as at first.". ' "And hast thou seen the Lady Catharine since then, my son ? " asked his mother, earnestly. " Often an4 often, dearest mother; for it was not many, days afterwards that 1I left for her upon the beach, while, from the terrace of the castle she was looping down and .saw me, the basket of shells, which I soon beheld her descend and take up. I have met her in the forest path ; I have seen her at the castle on gala-days ; I have encountered her on the snowy beach by moonlight." "You meet the Lady Catharine by noon- light ? You say what oversteps the truth, I fear." " Nay, mother, we have often met, and walked and discoursed together upon the glorious works I THE YOUNG: FISHERMAN. - 15 of nature, the majesty of the sea, the mystery of the stars, the delights of friendship, the bliss of heaven, and upon everything goodand beauti- ful. Ah, mother, it has been to me as if for the three years past I had been permitted to have companionship with an angelhof intelligence and love. 0, how she has elevated my soul, ex- panded my mind, enlarged my views, purified the gross in me, and cultivated the virtues, which knew not how to grow aright. If I am superior to what I then was, if Iam called by the villagers wiser and better than others, it is 'to her sweet teaching in those stolen hours which we have consecrated together to friendship."' " Guilford! you fill me with amazement. I tremble at what I hear you utter ! Can all this be so? Yet it must be ; you could not deceive me; and besides,I have now in my mind nu- merous little circumstances which the revelation on your part gives me a full explanation of. How wonderful it all is ! You, mf son-the son of E humble fisherman, the chosen friend and confidant of a noble and high-born maiden, the daughter of a lord ! It is difficult to believe it., But it is said woman's heart, when it chooses, looks not to title, nor rank, nor dress, but for a kindred heart; and perhaps that, though.one is born in the castle and the other at the foot of the castle, the same spirit may be animating your bosoms. But the Lady Kate is young ; she has seen but little of the world. She is hardly conscious of the impassable gulf that lies between you and her -own high station. This romance, sweet and pleasant as it has been to you, must be broken. Her hand will be asked by some proud noble, and she will give it to him, and then she will be ashamed.that she has, been so foolish as to descend to your level. Trust me, R my dear boy, this wild dream must be broken. Let me advise you to see her no more. Better for your own feelings that you withdraw now from an intimacy that-cannot be perpetual, which is so extraordinary, than wait to be cast off with infamy. She is now nineteen, and what pleased her at fifteen, may disgust her now:" " You do not know her, my dear mother," an- swered the young man, his generous face light- ing up with generous warmth in defence of Lady Kate. " She 'feels no differently towards me now than at all other times. She will never give her hand to any noble of them all." " This is a bold speech. Wouldet thou bind her tot thyself, Guilford ? If, in. the innocence 1 , page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] 16 THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. and frankness of her nature, she has given her regards to the humble youth to whom she feels she owes her life, are you so ungenerous as to take advantage of her gratitude, which, it would seem, is ready to give herself with it, in order that you may have the selfish pleasure of feeling that you are loved by a high-born maiden ? " "Mother,.you do me injustice. You do not understand either me or the Lady Catharine.- I have bound herby no pledges. I have dared to exact no promises from her. I have not thought of any happiness gr consummation of our pure friendship, beyond the sweet bliss of the present hour." "You are then both rash and imprudent. You are wasting a generous heart upon one whoan never be more to you than she now is, and she is wasting upon you affections which can never find their fruition ; for the natural tendency of such attachments as it appears exist between you and Lady Catharine, is, a union by marriage, and to this result the opposite ranks you occupy in society must forever put a bar. You, there- fore, are doing her irreparable injury, and en- dangering the wreck of her whole life's happi- ness, by encouraging by your continued presence in her society, a passion which can only end in sorrow, tears, and wretchedness to you both." "I see-I see, dear mother ! Your words have opened my eyes. I behold my position as you behold it, and am conscious that it is a false one. Mother, I will see her no more-no more -no more t 1 CHAPTER IV. A MOTHE'S COUNSEL. Tan young fisherman ventured the last word in a tone of sadness, and with his forehead bowed down upon his mother's hand, upon which hot tears dropped, one after the other, like rain.- " Thou hast spoken well; thou hast spoken like a man. Heaven give thee strength to abide by thy words," she said, impressively. "No more I" he repeated, in a tone of unutter- able anguish. ".I see that I shall destroy her hopes, her happiness, her future, if I suffer this mad dream of bliss to go on. But it will rend my heart 1" " Nay, be strong in a sense of rectitude and manly consciousness of acting tight. Thou wilt not hesitate to sacrifice thyself for her, if thou lovest her."° "Love her !" "Then reflect that it is for her whom you lovefyou make this sacrifice of never beholding her more. As it is, she, can never marry in her own rank, as becomes her; for thou hast her heart, 'for which, nevertheless, thou canst give her no return." "No returnI--true, true. tI can jive her only my heart again. I have no rank, no castles, no place at court, no historic name, no wealth, no power, to return to her. Mother, you are wiser than I-far'wiser. The dream is past ; I will see her but once more !" "Nay, not that once." " Can I steal from her away, dear mother 1.-. shall I cease my interviews with her without a word of explanation'? Shall I add to our sepa- ration the barb of suspicion that I have done aught that makes me ashamed to see her, or that she has given me aught of office ? Nay, it is becoming that we meet once more-to port forever." "Perhaps you are right, my son. I will trust to your good sense that this interview be so con- ducted as to release you both from any indiscreet pledges of fidelity into which you may both have unadvisedly fallen. When will you have this interview?" "This very night." "The sooner the better for you both, Now, my boy, explain to me what you began to do when you sat down here-how your boat came so dreadfully wrecked." "I deserved it, I see, since we have had this talk together. I will explain in a few words. You know,E perhaps, that young Lord Rudolph has returned 1 the castle within a few days'?" "I heard so from your -cousin Anne." " i 9 es."she knows everythi that goes' &.M . eAOtte 'aksof the Lady Cat wa e 4 page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] 18 THE YONNG FISHERMAN. "How can any one do otherwise ? All love ford,' she said, smiling in that captivating way he wh roach her; and alas, all rnay ap- which almost made me lose my senses. Ia proah her hereafter but me. I alone am to be first stood on the large stone half surrounded by exiled from her sweef presence: But hear what the water there; but the tide coming in, I was I have to say touching the injury done to my afraid I should be caught by it, and so I ex- boat.i While I was listlessly rocking on the changed it for the boat. I see you have some swell, waiting for the fish to take the hook, and beautiful shells.' - gazing upon the powers of the castle, and think- "Yes, Lady Kate," I answered, with that gingofLad.y Catharine, Ifell asleep and dreamed. trembling of the voice without which I never I dreamed that I had won her hand, and that I could speak to her. "I have some here we have led her up to the high altar in Westminster Ab- never seen. But you do not get a goodiew of bey, where amitred archbishop united us in holy the castle so nearly under it ; let me push out marriage. I recollect that the king was present further from the shore, so that you can embrace and all his nobles, and-" the whole at one view. "aThe king !" exclaimed his mother, with sur- " She thanked me ; and getting into the boat, 'se; "you know we have no king-the judges I pushed from the beachand hoisting the sail, have put him to deaths ran out a hundred fathoms, and there brought " I know it, motlr ; but in my dream I saw my little vessel to, and sat down andwatched the king, or a king, and he seemed to smile on her, as with taste and skill she transferred me, and give me honor with the proudest of his the outlines of her father's castle to a leaf nobles; and I thought I was clad in the robes of the portfolio before her. While she drew of an earl, and wore an earl's coronet." we converse Inmarked.noShe had finished her "These dreams are nothing, my son." y tan w ad. s finised her " But tag made a deep impression upon'me sketch, and was admiring its faithfulnets, when when I awoke; but I must confess my heart a flaw of wind suddenly struck us from the gap sank within me when my opening eyes fell only in the cliff, and blew so hard that I was com- upon my coarse fishing clothes and poor fishing pelled to run before it for ten or twelve minutes. boat, with a few lines, and hooks, apd tubs, that But after getting an offing of half a league, it de- constituted-all my earthly wealth." creased so puch in strengthtthat I was able to "A fit gift to bestow upon a noble bride, lay up to it, and prepared to return to the foot Guilfdid," said his mother, in a slightly ironical of the castle rock. lI ad at seing he tone, qite unusual to her. -" Take a lesson danger was passed, and delighted:at findin from-your dream, and let your common sense self so far out inthe channel, entreated me not see that you are never likely to exchange your to return immediately, but sail farther out and poor estate as a fisherman for the regal splendor let her try and catch a fishor two with me. To you beheld in Westminster Hall." this Iconsented, and reaching the fishing ground "'You are right, mother. I will:try and im- I was soon engaged in teaching ther how to press the lesson upon my heart. It was past catch the fish, which now began to take the hook noon when I awoke, and I found that the. flood freely. While we were thus engaged, my whole tide had swung my vessel close in under the thoughts full of the happy crt alou ofhe land, and that Castle Vane was towering high presence, we were sibddenly startled by a loud in the air above my head. As the day was still shout. Looking up, I beheld a green,gied cloudless and unfit for fishing, I landed and yacht, of about twentyatons burthe s on h g roamed along the beach, and endeavoring to de- towards us at a rapid rate, haned close on her tect traces of the small footstep which had the wind. At her helm I recognized the haughty evening before wandered there by my side. I figure of Lord Tuolh, wseface a dozend also gathered every pretty shell that met my eye with fierce passion. There were haif a dozen for the grotto which Lady Catharine was making .other persons on bardafour of wh iwere in the garden of the castle. In this pleasurable crew. e steered straight for me, an I saw occupation the afternoon wore away, and at that his intention was to sink m'e. He called length I ruined to myboat. But imagine my me by all manner of opprobiousepithets as he joy whenribeheld the Lady Catharine seated in came near, and I perceived that he wa bent on it, eaggd in sketch d rock! equallyd'stroying. both Lady Catharine and "I saw yo ilrty, Guil- myself. My sails were brie p, adIhdn time to get out of the way; but seeing he was aiming td strike me amidships, I succeeded with an oar in turning the bow of my boat so as to receive the shock there. The moment of-collis- ion, two of the crew, by his previous order, sprang on board, and taking the Lady Catharine up, regained the yacht with her. The shock drove the bows of my boat in, and she began to fill. The yacht, .recoiling from' the contact, glided past across the bows, and as Lord Vane saw me making efforts to keep my boat from going down, he laughed like a fiend, and. then deliberately aiming a short' gun at me, dis- charged it. I should have been killed by the ball if I had not thrown myself upon my face. [sEE ENGRAVING.] " The next moment the yacht was far to lee- ward, and I was left alone with my sinking boat ! What a moment of shame, disappointment, and bitterness was that to me ! What an hour of happiness, had been suddenly interrupted ! I now turned my whole attention 1o saving' my boat and my life. - But my ears were Tended by the cries of Lady Kate to her brother, not to let me perish. But I could hear his scornful laugh only in reply. "By great exertions,,my dear mother, I reached the cove as you saw; but if I had been half a mile further ont, I should certainly have been lost. Now, mother, you know all. I have unfolded to you the secret of my life. You are my only confidant. Perhaps I have done wrong in encouraging this sweet friendship on the part of Lady Kate. But should I dash the cup of bliss to the ground? I was not' wise enougl'to know that it was charged with sorrow to us .* both. I can now look on all with your eyes. I see that I have been in the wrong, and that I have been inflicting a positive injury upon her whom I would die .to serve. I see it-I see it all! I cannot so much blame Lord Vane fol wishing to break off a friendship that was laden with so much future evil.", "I am glad to ,see you take this view of it, Guilford. It shows me that you are still as good and generous and just as I have always believed you to be. No doubt that Lady Catharine loves you; but do you think-now hear me put the question with calmness -do you think she would - listen to you with anything less than with sur-, prise and scorn, if you proposed seriously for her hand ?" Guilford shook his head, but made no reply. "I fear that such a proposal from you would open her eyes, which seem to have been strangely blinded, and lead her to see the true position in which you stood to each other. It would break the spell effectually. Doubtless she, as well as yourself, has never asked of her heart and judg- ment where all this would end." "I will see her once more, and then we part forever-unless-" Here a certain proud light shone in his fine eyes, and he rose to his feet. " Unless what, Guilford ?" asked hi's mother, with anxiety, fearing all his resolutions were to be turned into thin air. - "Unless I can render myself worthy of her, mother !" " Worthy of her! Indeed, so far as truth and honor and manly domeliness are concerned, you are worthy the love of any maiden, .methinks, Guilford ; but these count nought in the sum of qualifications which he who would wed a lord's daughter must bring to his aid." "I may yet make myself worthy of her, moth- er. In the books of history which she has loaned me, and which we have read together, are ac- counts of lowly-born, youths having risen to thrones, and to wed kings' daughters. Nothing is impossible to love and ambition !" .", That was in the days of Romaunt, long ago, my boy. Such things do not happen now." ' o one knows. What is enacting now?- who is President of England, and who sits in the seat of the long line of descended kings ? Is it not Oliver Cromwell, who rose from the ranks of the people? Even Lord Rudolph Vane must lift his cap to this man of humble origin." " Trueimy son, the people have the power.' "Yes, and the nobles hold their castles and their coronets at the will of the Lord Protector. Because I am a fisherman now, shall I of neces- sity always he one? Thanks to the teachings of the Lady Catharine, I have knowledge and learning, and know how to hold such place as my good fortune may perchance elevate' me to. From this day I doff the fisher's jacket, and go and offer my services to the admiral of the fleet, now in the Thames and preparing to sail against the Dutch. There all grades are 'open to talent and aspiration; and with the star of Lady Kate's love shining ever above the horizon of my future, I shall yet win some place worthy of her!" " Ah, my son, you do mot reflect that a suc- cessful officer under Cromwell's power would be an unsuccesgful wooer for the band of a daugh- ter of so proud and royal a noble as Lord Vane. Dost thou forget how these nobles hate the Pro. tector ?" I' THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. .i page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] 4 THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. " True, true, I should only defeat my aim," I then suffered heir to embrace him, to breathe a he answered, gloomily, as the sunshine of hope word or two of consolation into his heavy heart, faded away into the shadows of his darkening and then entered the house. destiny ; " and what is more true, I am in heart It was already twilight, for the sun had gone a king's subject. I have been taught by you and down behind the blue Hampshire hills while my'father to honor the king, and to look upon they sat in the green porch, holding the conver- Cromwell as a usurper. Nothing but the hope sation we have above recorded. -now dashed to the ground-of winning Lady In a few moments he came forth, and was Kate through honors gained under the Protec- passing out of the gate. tor'sfag, would have suggested to me the idea " Leave no room, Guilford, for a second inter- of offering myself to him. Myheart is with the view," whispered his mother, impressively. exiled and hunted young King Charles ; but to " It shall be the last," he answered, with deep share his fallen fortunes I should be no nearer emotion modulating the sounds of his voice. my ambitious hopes. Mother, advise me ;-I At the gate he met a fair young girl of know not what to do.. I can never forget Lady eighteen, clad in a neat chintz gown, and coarse Catharine. I must love her while life endures; but becoming straw hat. and while I live, it must be with the faint, far-off "Good even, cousin Anne," he said, as he hope that kind fate will one day smile upon my passed her. love, and with the sunshine of joy dissipate all " Good even, Guilford," she responded. the clouds that now hang around me." "Aunt, what makes, Guilford so sad ?" she " My advice is, my boy, to remain where you asked, looking after him. are, and try and forget the Lady Catharine, as " He has a heavy sorrow at heart, child," an- much so as if she were dead and buried." swered the mother, in a tone of sympathy;- "Be it so ; I will try," answered Guilford, in " Heaven hold him strong under it 1" tones scarcely audible to Jiis mother's ears. He CHAPTER V. COUSIN ANNE GREY-A SURPRISE. Tun maiden who betrayed this interest in the young man was Anne Grey, his cousin, and the adopted child of her aunt, his mother. She was a beautiful girl of eighteen, with dark brows and eyes, and handsome cheeks and lips, and a neat figure, buoyant with the elasticity of health. She had daily employment at the castle by Lady Vane, who gave occupation to several maidens of humble degree in the art of embroidery, a pursuit then much in vogue with the high-bern dances of England. Evpry morning for two years past, Anne had gone to the castle, to pass the day in the .ldrge hall or working-room, where the lady of the castle, seated in the midst of her half-score of maidens, either taught them difficult figures in the pattern by her own example, or passed from one to the other, giving directions. " Have you completed that battle-piece of Hastings's field yet ?" asked dame Graham of Anne, as the latter seated herself, by the frugal supper prepared for her and Guilford, but which the latter had left untouched. "Not yet, aunt; we expect to complete it by June. We have been already twenty-one months upon it. We had to wait three weeks for the arrival of the young lord before we could finish, his figure."- 2 "What, does my young lord figure in the tapestry ?" " Yes, as one of the king's youthful knights. He has taken a' good many sittings, and. the portrait is to the life ; but Lady Vane drawsaud works in the features herself, while we only work the surtout and armor." ".What think you of my young lord ?" "Something bold and free, methinks.' " So I fancied, if he be like other nobles of his degree. I hope, child, he hath not noticed thee." " I like not his looks at all, aunt. He hath twice spoken to me in a manner that has made my cheek burn. I would gladly find some ex- cuse not to go up to the castle until he shall be gone back to London." " Tell not thy cousin Guilford of this." "Nay, he would care little. He careth-not for me," she answered, changing color. " Ah, and is it this way blows the wind, my child ?" " Which wayj aunt ?" "I see thou lovest Guilford more than thou. shouldst as a relative." "I did not say so, aunt. Yet who can help liking him ! Does not every one' like him I Nhy, I have tielard the fair Lady Cathar.ne 20 f, -.. k ;r r,,'r , +, t h :7 t . page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] 22 THE YOVNG FISHE1lMAK speak of him to me with passing commendation, and dress of dame Graham, and lastly, but more But Guilford never thinks of me or any other lingeringly, the pretty countenance of Anne maiden." Grey, who sat aloof in the window, trying to "And how like you Lady Catharine ?" withdraw as much from close observation as she " She. is fair and good as an angel. We all could, love her. 'She is nothing like Lord Rudolph, " So, dame, thou seemest to subsist by the her brother; and methinks he is something harsh travail of fishing ? Verily, It is a good trade, towards her betimes, as becometh not a brother." and thou shouldst thrive. This comely maiden So I hear." is thy daughter I do peradventure ?" . "And what aileth Guilford to-night ?" This was spoken by Strait-gate. " He is ill at ease. I warrant me he'll be bet- " My niece, your worship." ter and wiser- to-morrow. But here eces in " Come hither, maid, and let me see if thou some neighbor. See who it is." art well-favored," said Broad-way. "They do Anne rose up, and advancing to the door, say that much eating of fish doth improve te started back with a cry of surprise, as she be- complexion."- held stride in two of Cromwell's soldiers, armed But Anne, as soon as she saw that she was with harquebus and broad-sword, and wearing particularly noticed, quickly tripped out of the the well-known badge, of the parliamentary cottage, army.- Instantly dame Graham, with that in- " Verily and yea, the maiden hath fled. She stinctive sense of propriety and self-possession hath no beed to fear the soldiers of the Lord and which never forsook her, though she trembled of Gideon. We war against kings, and not in her inmost soul at beholding the shadows of against women." these two men crossing her threshold, advanced " And how fares my Lord Cromwell, gentle- and said civilly: men ?" - " Enter, friends, and refresh yourselves. We "Marry come up ! how should he but do well were just at supper. If you will take seats, you who is next to King David in power, and Solo- shall cheerfully have whatever our poor larder mon in wisdom? Nevertheless, thou showest can furnish." thy reverence for him, good dame, by asking. The soldiers sat down without ceremony, as if Where is thy husband"" they felt perfectly at home and were accustomed "Dead, this seven years, sirs.", to the civility which they met with. One of them " Hast thou no man about ?" asked Broad' was a tall, thin, cadaverous man, with dark, an- way, cocking his half-shut eye at the oars and gular brows, sallow cheeks, and straight, black sails that stood in the corner. hair for a beard, while that upon his head was "I have a son, a young 'man of four-and cropped ort like that of a modern convict. He twenty.", was armed in a formidable manner, and was " Where is he, dame ?" altogether a formidable-looking person.--a sort "He has gone forth on some affairs of is of cross between a Puritan saint and arobber of own." the Rhine. His comrade was shorter by the "Very well; when he comes back we- head, girded full twenty inches more by the doubtless see him-for, by your leave, we will waist, had a bald, bullet-head, and no beard. His quarter with you a few days!' eyes were small and twinkling, and the corners "Such poor comforts as my humble roof of his mouth, which naturally were inclined to affords are at your service' answered the dame, turn laughingly upwards, were drawn down in a thankful that there were but two of them when sanetimonious curve, that each moment required there might have been more. his attention to keep so. The names of these After the men had well eaten, and quaffed two worthies were respectively "Strait-gate" strong waters from well-filled flasks which they and "Broad-way." The first five minutes carried at their belts, they walked forth, saying Strait-gate occupied in saying a long grace, to they would ere long be back to stay for the which Broad-way responded an unctuous amen. night. They had not been five minutes de. They then fell to work upon the fish and ashes parted, when a man entered with the familiar ckes before them; and having taken off the air of a village gossip. He was dressed in a edge of their appetite, they began to use their patched and torn doublet, hose down at the leg, eyes now in scanning the room, then the face a coarse tunic, and slouched hat. Moreover, /t 11 TI1E YOUNG' V - his fiery-red nose showed that he was much given' to ale-house potations, "Ah, dame, how be it all wi' ye ? How is the pretty lass Annie Where is Master Guilford? Strange news come to town. Hope you haven't heard of it first. Stirring times these--stirring, piping-hot times ! Thank the Lord I gas born in=these-stirring times !" With this, the new-comer rubbed his palms together, and spoke with great volubility, like a man over-earnest to be the first to turn the fasset of a barrel of news. "Why, what hath happened, Master Digby?" asked the dane. "Then you've not heard it? Good !-you'll soon know, for they'll be upon you. Why a whole company o' parliamentary soldiers march- ed down into the port just .at sunset, and have stacked their arms at the Whale and Gudgeon. There they are, drinking and singing psalms, and looking as warlike as Gog and Magog. 0, it's terrible to see their long broadswords and open-mouthed sharquebuses, at the end of every one of-which hangs -a true man's life 1" "- We've had two of them here already," said the dae "What I-you 4&dft'say they have been here.?" "There is where they hive eaten but ten min- utes agone. They siythey are going to quarter here." "Dear, bless us, what stirring times'! But did they tell you what they came here=for ? 'I warrant me I have that piece of news for yots yet" "We did not ask them, and I did not care to be to inquisitive!" "JTust like you.. Well, I know. Listen, Miss Anne. , The king's son,. Prince Charles, has made a break from some place where they had him penned in, away off in the Scot's country,' 4-north; and, the Protector's' got certain news he's trying to fly across theseas. So, you un- derstand, he has sent-vessels tb'every port-where he could, to keep watch and to examine every boat that puts off; and heieron the south, of England, he has sent troops t6 guard the coast, and ,especially every place where there are fish-' ing;boats.; Sn at this -moment there is not a chance for, the prince- to' get out of England without being seen and taken. All along the toa'Crdmwdl's soldieis:are quartered, and are to keep strict watch. All this I-learned from one fthe troop, who udd to be an old-crony of mine when the old king was ali'ie." TISHERMAN- 24 "Poor Prince Charles !" replied the fisher- man's widow; "he is, I fear, destined to fall into the hands of his enemies." " We must. speak low when we mention his name, dame," answered 'Digby. - "But gpod- night !-I must go, for I've got.to tell the news to a good many. Stirring times--stirring times! Good night, fair Miss Anne !" With these words, the, village news-bearer hastened from the cottage. " I do really hope they will have their labor for their paiis," said Anne. "Poor Prince Charles has been hunted till he has no place left to hide his head 1" "It is to be hoped he may escape." "Aunt, there is some one looking in upon us at the back window !" suddenly exclaimed Anne. The dame turned her head, and as she did so, the window was raised, and a man stepped into the room. His appearance- struck them with surprise and curiosity, He wore a plain peas- ant's dress, soiled' and travel-worn, an old fhr- cap, that covered his eyes and 'early concealed his features, which were pale and well-shape.e There was an air bf'superiority about hlhn that led dame Graham to suspect that he was seie one of the nobles-id disguise, Who-wee lurking about England 'in'considerable ntimb ri, with prices set upon their heads. He se ingdOready to sink with fatigue, as, supporting hiknmself on the edge of the table, he said faintly, but in a voice of singular courtesy: "You are a wonkn-you are compassionate- give -m a fed hor-s' shelter. I am pured, and throw myself on your mercy!" " Come, follow me," quietly said the dage, speaking with-decision and promptness. "Anne, place that food in his hands."- A' plate of' provisions from the table was handed to him by the maitien, and he followed dame Graham: out ' of the room like one aecus- tomed to ask--and find shelter in this 'manner. There was a ladder in the adjoining apartment which led to a loft. 'Ascend 'this and you will find a bed and security. 'Make io oise.' As soon as tny soy comes, we will seek anmore secure place of shel- ter. There are two of'the parliamentary soldiers quartered in' the house,'but they shell not aus pect'your presence. Who you are- ask ,ioft -'I only wish that it were the prince, save that -X should be ed to 'see any piie * r '4 page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. He pressed her hand gratefully, and ascended the ladder, which, at her direction, he drew up after him. He then closed the opening, so that no sign of the trap was apparent from below. She then returned to Anne, whom she impressed with the importance of keeping the secret of the presence of the fugitive from every one. " Have you any idea who it is, aunt ?" "I have my guess. It is either the prince himself, or one of his friends." " 0, that it were the prince, and we could get him safe across the channel !" exclaimed the beautiful girl, with warmth. " This is sooner said than executed. I sin- cerely pray that it may not be thelPrince Charles,. for I do not see how we could protect hm.. These soldiers will doubtless pry into every nook and cornet of the house. But Guilford will soon. be in, when I will consult with him.". CHAPTER VI. A CONCEALED GUEST. Tun 'good dame then went to work to pre- me.hither. Are you confident that I can be cou- pare some drink of ale and French brandy, which cealed here ?" latter article the fishermen on the south coast, "At least till my cousin Guilford can think of fromt i.eakn1tess to France, had always cheaply some other place; and he will soon be in." and in puple quantities in their households. "And who is thy cousin Guilford ?" Having made the potation hot, and seasoned it "The son of my aunt; and though but a fish- welwth pieces , she sent Anne with it to give erman's son, and himself a fisherman, he is a' it theirconcealed guest, while she herself re- true friend to the prince, and prays for his safety, mailed to watch the entrance to the cottage as well as do I and my aunt' that no one might come in unobserved. Anne, " Thanks, thanks, maiden ! This beverage on entering-the back apartment of the hut, care- will revive me and' make me forget my day's fully locked .and bolted the door between, and fatigues." then, drawing 'a rough table beneath. the trap, "Quick, sir cavalier, shut the trap down!--I she got upon it and knocked lightly with the hear voices." end eta broom upon the ceiling above her head. The stranger immediately closed the boards, "Sir cavalier 1" -she said softly. and leaping to the floor from the table, the "What, maiden ?" asked the voice of the con- maiden removed it against the wall,.and un- cealed fugitive, speaking through a crevice in bolting the door, returned to 'the front room. the floor. Voices of men in loud talk were still heard out- S" apennd take this warm negus which my side. au st l ared for thee. We know you " Didst give it to him?" asked her aunt, in an us ~ thirst and fatigue; for we have under-tone. -hed of the at hardships the friends of Prince " Yes, aunt, and 'lie was so grateful, and so Charles have gone through to keep from being civilspoken; andhishand, as he reached it down, b l erved , was as fair as a born lady's." The trap was carefully lifted and the arm of , "Without doubt'; these court cavaliers do the wanderer was thrust down for the fiago,n nought of work, being rich, but aid the king which the maiden reached up to him. As he with their heads, in council. How fortunate too i.lhe apped her hand with his fingers, in it was he did not come in when thesoldiers were token of his gratitude, and said, in a voice which here. " had become habitually subdued to the lowest " Perhaps .he was watching outside the win- d ece 'dow till they were away." ,h ] and. blessings upon thee, and thy "But it was bold in him to come in when .good autit, maiden!t Heaven surely directed they had so lately left." VIMl "YOUtNG FISHEItMAN. 2A4 'Poor gentleman, aunt ! Perhaps he had no other chance for safety. I have heard a story of a hunted deer'after being pressed from every covert, at length fly for shelter beneath the horse of the hunter. But.here come the men." "Now, Anne, let not our looks or manner or words betray to these soldiers that we have a secret to keep."' While the goodwoman was giving this piece of caution to her neice, the two parliamentary troopers came in, making noise enough with their heavy boots and jingling swords, for half a score of modern dragoons. "Well, mistress, we have been taking a survey of thy premises around, walking about thereof, -as the Israelites circumvented the walls .of Jericho; but verily, not seven times, 'or we had no desire that thy walls should fall down, con- sidering that we look for'them to give us shelter to-night. Here, maiden, take the sword of the Lord and of Gideon !" With this, Broad-way, who had seated his un- wieldly form upon a bench by the table, un- buckled his huge sword and handed it to Anne, who tookit, though it required no little strength to lift it, with its iron scabbard, and hung it upon a wooden peg near the window. ".And Jake thou this fiery sword, lass, and put it safely on yonder beckets," said Strait-gate, with a_ solemn, nasal drawl. " Phuf !-verily, brother Broad-way, I smell the savor of strong waters, ,spiced with fragrance as the incense of Aaron, that flowed down his garment skirts unto-' "Yea, the flavor thereof ascendeth to my nos- trils, like the odors of the lily of the valley of many colors. -Dame, whence ariseth this de- lectable odor .' asked Broad-way, snuffingthe air of the room about him like a bill of Ba- shan ; while Strait-gate, erect and thin-visaged, in his hair, rolled his eyes on all sides to dis- cover whence came the fragrance which had so captivated their virtue. bIt is but the fumes of a negus which I have been making. My son will be in soon, and as the night is s a ething chilly, and as he:has gone out without his supper, I would give him some refresh nent when he'comes in.'? -"Vferily, thou art a mother in Israel," an- swered Bi ad-way. " Suppose 'thou' regardest meas thy son in Jacob and thy posterity in Abraham, and give me of the negus even, verily, as dacobgave to Esau of the pottage when he was a-hungry." Dame Gral am rose at once, and taking from a small cupboard an earthen mug, which bek. about a quart, she poured from it into two cups all that she had reserved for Guilford'of what she had made 'for the concealed guest, The two soldiers had no sooner inhaled and tasted the potation, than they manifested their approbation of her skill in concocting agreeable potations. "Verily," said Strait-gate, "this 'is, richer than the wines of Judea and the dew of the little hills of Hermon." " Yea, verily, it is the dew of Lebanon;" an- swered Broad-way, with unction. "The good dame must fill up the quart meas- ure once more ; for verily, with such strength as this giveth to the' arm'of a servant of the Lord, we shall overthrow our' enemies and discomfit them 1" " Verily, brother Strait-gate, verily, till not a dry bone standeth in the valleyof Ajalon. Come hither, maiden, for thou art fair andcomely to look upon-come hither and sit upon my knee, that I may discourse to thee touching the 'wile of the devil and the temptations of this'worlo di vanities." "Nay, brother, the maiden' will do better, to sit where she is ; for thou-shouldst not tit 1y- self in the way of evil, seeking to, sa 'e s from perdition."'-'"s a,:r "Anne," said the good dame, "come hither and take this pail and go to the spring aind fill it with water, that I may inalie' more negus four these sons of Jacob." Anne very willingly complied, and was not- a little gratified when her aunt whispered to her as she gave her the bucket, "Remain without until thy cousin returns. These men wll' be rude to thee in theit 'A'i ' there is' water enough in the house without that thou art sent for." - ; z "But they will be rude to' thee. "No, I fear them not; child.' Kee3iru awaY from them all thou canst." " Marry, come up, maiden!", said Broad-way', as she passed him, "stay and let one give thee a holy kiss g" "Yea, 'a kiss 'of' peace, verily, maiden I" chimed inStrait-gate, with a hypocritical twang through his nose. "P1ost thou not re&it'rdbe the Scripture records that Isaac kissed Rebeced' Come hither, and let us kissthee and talk to thee gravely of the vanity o? youth and the erils l comeliness.' 7' A (7 i 1 I, page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] THE YOUNG. FISHERMAN. But Anne, blushing and terrified, bounded past the pious covenanters and gained the out- side of the door. But she fled from thearms of * the men of war to fall into the arms of a fine. looking youth of her own station, who was in the act of knocking for admission as she opened the door. " Why, Robin !" she exclaimed, as she with- drew her form from his arms, which had inclosed her almost of necessity, so completely she came into them. "And you, Anne'! Whither with such haste? 0, I see, you have the bucket. Let me fetch the water for thee." "Nay, speak low, and come right away from the door. If you must talk, talk at the spring.: There are two of those dreadful troopers in the house." " What, Cromwell's brigands ?" repeated the young fellow, in tones that rung like a Damas- cus blade. "Hush I" she cried, pressing her small hand afint his mouth to stop his words. "If you are overheard you are lost. Come with me quick, and I will tell you all that has happened." He took the pail from her, and followed her lightstep across a stile and into a-remote corner of pmddock, where,,beneath a clump of alders, Subled a sparkling spring, with an abundance of water, which, overrunning, sought its way in p booklet to the sea, five hundred yards off. "You seem disturbed, .Anne. Have these troopers been insolent ?" demanded the young man, who was plainly of a fiery temper, and hack a profound regard for the maiden. "Mien did you ever hear "of these soldiers being beneath a roof that they were not inso- e eshrew me ! they would have kissed me if Would have suffered it of their ugly, great, l airy mouths 3" I will kill them both !" "Nay, Robin, that would be to the death of three men; for assuredly thou wouldst be the third. They did not kiss me,however, for I ran away.", " The hounds ! To presume to think of what I hardly dare dream of--pressing thysweet lips!" "Nay, Robin, don't talk of love now. You may stay here and keep me company till Guil- ord comes home, if you will be sure to behave yourself.' " Ah, Anne, you are ever so cruel to me, Why do I woo and sue, and woo in vain.'? said the young man, seating himself by her side on the stone bench that half encircled the spring. " Do not compel me to sigh for you, and love you, and live only with your thought, while, you treat me so disdainfully." "I love you, Robin; but I do not love you yet well enough to be your wife. If I ever marry any one but-it shall be your." "But who ? whose name fills the space you only breathed ?" " Do you not guess ?" asked the ingenuous girl. "I can think of no one but Guilford." "You are right. It is Guilford who alone keeps me from loving you as you. ought to, be loved. I have nothing against you; I am grate- ful for selecting me out of all the maidens of the hamlet,; but I love Guilford." " Only as a cousin." "I wish it were only as a cousin. I fear I love him with all my heart." " Happy Guilford ! He is my best friend-he destroys my happiness. Does he love thee ? But why do I ask the question? Who can help loving thee, Anne, that knows thee ?" "Frankly, then, I- fear he loves me only as a cousin, and has no suspicion of my attachment for him. That makes me wretched. ,1 fear his heartis pre.engaged." "Would that it were !" " It would then break the dream of my life, and I should perhaps awake, Robin, to the reali- ties of thy love. You see I am frank andppen- hearted with you. Your long attachment fq r, me demands frankness and the absence': of all mystery." "You are goodness itself ! If, then, Guilford should be discovered to have given his heart to another, may2I then hope, dearest Anne ?", " Yes ; for thete is no one next to him I think so highly of as you." This undisguised expression of her feelings filled the young man with joy. He pressed ;er hand to his lips with devotion and ardoreand she could see that his.features were animate with hope and joy. As they sat by the spring they heard the voices of the two tipsy troopers singing through their noses a long-winded psalm, the sounds of which reaching the ears 7of other soldiers, q rteed about in other huts, inspired them also with devotional psalmody, and soon the whole iage was 'roaring with a confused noise of sgngb, which came louder from the village inn th from any other quarter. /', WHEN Guilford left the threshold of the cot- tage to take his way towards Castle yane, in order to obtain a final interview with the'beauti- ful and high-born maiden who had given him the preference of her -pure affections, he walked for some minutes at the quick, impetuous step which his agitated feelings prompted. But after 'losing sight of the gate of 'the hut, and he had come upon the white sandeach, on which the moonbeams shone like silver, and upon the hard, marble-like floor of which the sparkling waves unrolled themselves like countless blue' scrolls edged with pearl, the sweet influences of the Scene carried quiet and comparative serenity to his soul. Gradually his footsteps slackened, and at length he came to a full stop and looked off and upward. " Why should I let a storm stage in my bosom hen illgiature is so peaceful? The blue skies are soft and fair and the stars sparkle in them like celestial- eyes, looking peace and jor on earth, while the heavens of my soul are clouded, andnot a star of hope is glimmering in their wide horizon. Why," he mused-" why should I let mnere feelings torture ne so that I-am more like one bereft of reason at the idea of losing ady- Catharine, than a sane man ? Let me borrow peace and calmness from the ocean, the ky, the stars, the whole repose of nature. I will be calm ! I will reflect hpon all this which has come upon me, with firmness and honesty of conviction. My mother is right ; . I am doing the Lady Catharine wrong by thus holding her affections. My-mother is right; she cap never look upon me as her husbftnd. -She is infatuated. We have both been blind. I will be the first to break the spell. She will respect me the better for it. I will act as becomes a man of honor. She shall never have reason to despise me. But," he added, as he paced slowly along the glittering beach, and mechanically picked up a shining shell for her, "how shall I obtain an interview with her without encountering her brother ? Not that I fear him; but my hand would shrink from a contact with one so nearly related to her. No doubt he would not hesitate to slay me on the first-sight, andtherefore did I bring weapons with me ; but I shall use them only in self-defence." - He now proceeded along the'beach for two hundred yards further, when he came to a jutting part of the cliff, on which the castle stood, which, advancing across the beach some yards into the water, stopped further progress on foot; but on the other side of this projecting wall of the precipice, the' beach was continued, broad and white as before, for more than a league, and was the common way taken by the inhabitants along CHAPTER VII. A A FUGITIVE' a ESCAPE. A ,r k 1 i 4 page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] 28 THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. the coast from one hamlet to the other. But as the projecting clift would have broken off all communication between the two parts of this beach pathway, two small boats had been im- memorially kept there, one on one side and the other on the opposite side, for those who passed that way to row themselves round the spur of -the rock. As the path by which Guilford usually visited the garden of the castle lay around the cliff, he now approached the little skiff;which had painted on its stern, " Castle Vane," it being the property of Lord Vane, he suddenly heard a loud shout- ing of numerous voices in the direction of the hamlet in his rear, and one or two discharges of harquebuses. 'The voices continued ' to ad- vance, and looking back with surprise, and won- dering at the cause, he saw far distant a single man running along the beach at his. fleetest speed. Iis dark form was distinctly relieved against the white, moonlit sand. The next mo- ment, not a hundred and fifty yards behind him, came two others, who seemed in hot pursuit. Guilford had already placed his foot in the boat, and held the oar in his hand ; but he re- mained motionless, watching the advance of the fugitive, who each moment was gained 'upon by his pursuers. He now began to feel an inter- est in him, as every generous mind will instantly take part with the weakest; and this interest was - Aft lessened whest the pursuers increased to seven iAn,'who shouted: "'The sword of the Lord and of Gideon ! Death to the son of Anak.! Slay the son of Beliall", *"They are covenanters in chase of a loyalist," said Guilford, biting his lip. 1" If he reaches here in good time, I will agree to save him at all risks." At this moment he saw the fugitive stop, as his nearest pursuer was not twenty yards off, turn round, qnd deliberately fire at- him. The man fell, and the fugitive once more bounded on his way. This bold and cool act elevated him not a little in the estimation of so brave a spirit as that of Guilford, and he-watched the approach of the hunted loyalist, as he supposed him to be, with the deepest solicitude. A second pursuer coming too near, shared the fate of 'the first; but a horsetrooper coming at spur-speed on the beach, gained so rapidly on him, that Guilford felt, that unless the man had another shot left, he would be taken. That he had not, Guilford saw very clearly by the almost superhuman efforts now made by the man to escape from the horseman. "I have a pistol !" cried Guilford, with admi- ration. " Teese troopers are our natural foes. Shall I stand here and see a brave man taken, and perhaps slain before my face ? It may be the prince himself for aught I know. I will give him all the aid I can, whosoever he be !" He then pushed the skiff a little out from the beach, and placed the oars so that they could be used instantly, and then hastened to meet the fugitive, who ran heavily, as if he had nearly lost his wind. "Courage, my 'friend !" shouted Guilford. "I have a shot for the trooper ! Run a little further, and there is a boat to escape in."- The sound of the encouraging voice of the young fisherman seemed to; give new spirits to the pursued stranger, who waved his hand, and came forward at a more vigorous pace. the horseman also increased his speed, and when the fugiive had got within twenty fathoms of the boat, the trooper was alongside of him, with his broad claynore sweeping around above his head, ready to descend upon the neck of the royalist, Guilford was not near enough to aid in warding off the blow, which the fugitive could not do, having, as Guilford perceived, no sword, and but one hand ; and the young fisherman brought his huge pistol to bear upon the broad chest of the trooper, and fired it. The man received the ball in his heart, and tumbled from his horse upon the beach, with the sword which he held aloft ready to aim the blow, lying broken under him in the sand. " Gallantly done, young man !" cried the fugi- tive. "You have saved my life." And -he pressed Guilford's hand to his bosom. " We have not a moment to lose, my lord," said Guilford. " Quickly, into the boat !" "I need no urging, my brave fellow," an- swered the stranger, stepping into the boat, which Guilford in a few seconds rowed out from the land and around - the rock, behind which he disappeared as two more horsemen came up to the fallen body of their companion. One of, them, with reckless hardihood, spurred - his hore into the sea, and compelled him to swim out, as if his rider were resolved to let no obstacles prevent him from capturing the fugitive. But the weight of the man, who was gigantic in size, and the terror of the animal, after a short distance brought on a terrible struggle between' life and death ; and in vain attempting to ex. tricate himself from the saddle and stirrups, the man sunk with his forse and disappeared for- ever. At this tragical result the other troopers paused ori the shore, and as the cliffpresented an insurmountable barrier to their further pro- gress, the escape of the fugitive was effectually' secured. "They cannot come after us here," said Guil- ford, as he drove the boat against the beach beyond the rock. "And to what brave young man am I in- debted for my safety ?" askedthe stranger, who pressed the hand of the young fisherman with strong emotion. "I am but a fisherman, my lord, who lives in the hamlet from which you came, and by good fortune having an errand this way, was enabled to afford you the assistance I havedone." " And good aid it was, and gallantly well len to me ; for you have as steady a hand and as true an eye with a pistolet as any king's cava- lier of the guards. What is thy name ?-for I would befriend thee, if some day I have it in my power." " Guilford Graham, sir cavalier," answered Guilford, who could see by the dress and bear- ing of the stranger that he svs a man of very different stamp from the Roundheads. As the moonlight shone full upon him, he could see that he was a well-made man, of thirty-seven or eight years, with long, black locks, floating to his neck, his air proud, and his bearing bold and resolute. But his curiosty was awakened to know how he, had lost his right hand. This curiosity was perhaps apparent in his looks, for the stranger said : , * " I suppose you would like to know who I am I You ought to know; but'in these days it is not safe alwaysfor men to carry their appella- tions posted on their'breast-ylates. You say we are safe here. It may be that you are ; but as for me, I am not safe on any foot of England's soil on the Sussex coast. Look you ! Hast thou seen any sail in the offing towards the syn- down 1"- " Methinks, my lord-" . "Nay, how dost thou know me ?" - "I do not, my lord. I did give thee but the chance title of respect." " Drop, it, lest it be not over safe. Call me captain, and thou wilt have a handle to my name. What didst thou see ?" "Far in the south and west I thought I saw the upper sails of a, brigantine, standing .coast- wise ; but I was too much taken up with my own affairs just then to give it or its course es- pecial heed." - " You shall know enough of me, young man, to know that I am expecting a vessel in this night from the channel to take me off. Pull out a bit from the shore, if thy own business be not too pressing, and let me look about. I shall feel more secure with an acre or two of broad sea- water lying between me and the main. Any moment these troopers may circumvent us by the castle road and pounce upon us." " That is trie. I will row out wfih you a mile or two, and if you see nothing of the-craft you look for, captain, I will land you on such safe part of the coast as you-may name, if it be not so far off that I cannot return hither by mid- night." "An affair of love thou hast on thy hands, I'll be sworn for you," answered the captain, laugh- ing ; " but I will not keep thee long. If I see nothing of the boat I look for in an hour, I will put back with you, and trust to you to find-me a hiding place for another day." Guilford was so captivated by a certain franks chivalrous manner of the stranger, and he seemed to place such unsuspecting confidence in .hlm, that he resolved, even if it should defer his inter- view with: Lady Catharine to another night, to give this night to securing the safety of ; his'new friend. That he was some flying cavalier he' was well convinced in his own mind; and he ran over in his memory the names of several of the most distinguished of whom he had heard as having been banished, or against whom sentence had been declared, with the probability that this stranger might be one of-them. " I will go out with you, sir," he answered, " cheerfully ; and if you do not see your vessel, and your head is in danger on land, I think that I can manage to run you across 4o the.French coast in a fishing smack to morrow night." ." Parbleu, mon ami !" exclaimed the captain, with a laugh. " The land of monsieur will burn my feet as badly as the land of John Bull. No, no ; I am safe only on the deck of my own ship." " Then you have a ship, sir ?" " Ay, have I, and a better keel cuts not the waters of the channel. It is she that I am wait- ing for. , New we are clear from the shore again I can breathe more freely. Pull out steadily a' mile or so, and then we will look about us." THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] A r CH A PTER VIII. A STARTLING ADVENTURE. GULFORD rowed out from the beach straight into the channel. As they got far enough from the shore- to look round on the other side of the rock, they saw the troopers retiring, bearing off the dead bodies of their.comrades who had fallen in the pursuit. "Did you ever kill a man before ?" asked the captain of Guilford, who had drawn his attention to the scene on shore. "'No, sir." "You could hardly do so in a better cause. If you had not shot that fellow, he would have cloven me to the earth: I was never harder beset in my life; and yet I-have not always passed my 4oys in a lady's boudoir." - "One would not think so, sir, to see you. I dare say you Iost your hand in some famous battle !" The brow of the stranger, naturally black, became suddenly dark as night. He was silent for a few moments, and then answered in tones that thrilled the very heart's blood of the young fisherman: "No, sir-on the scaffold 1" "On the scaffold 1" repeated Guilford, with a start and a look that betrayed his surprise ; and in his excitement he'ceased rowing and regarded the stranger with a new and strange interest. : "Do not cease to row, my young friend. I would gain a good sea-berth. Your eyes are sharp. Look, and tell me what you see in the south. I fancied*I caught a flash of fire in that quarter, just west of the moon's path."- " So did I, sir.' There are three lights-burn- ing, one above another-. They are small, but I see them distinctly." "And so do I," answered the captain,spng- ing to his feet, and speaking with animatedfjoy. "That is my boat. It was to row in from the ship, which.was to remain in tnid-channel, and every ten minutes, as she pulled 'towards the- little port of Blithelmstone, was todisplay three lanterns upon an oar. By being out here half a league from land I shall save them the trouble of going farther i,'and yon the time'-which I know you are generously giving me-froin the trysting tree. I know-it is unfair to rob a lover of one moment of such heavenly moonlight as this." "Nay, sir cavalier," answered Guilford,:who: each moment felt more drawn out to like the man whose life he had saved, and to confide in him; "it needs but little lightfor a lover to taka his last adieuof his lady love." " What I-Is it so? It must be, from, thy tones, and the tremor of thy lip. What, a quar- rel?" ° "No, my lord. Do not ask me more." THE YOUNG: " Nay, but thy happiness shall be in my keep- ing. Thou shalt tell me thy-tale on board my ship. It may be I can serve thee where thou little thinkest." " Thanks, captain ; but no one can aid me. It is settled without charge." " I will judge of that when I have made thee tell me thy love story., See ! there shine the lights again nearer. The rogues are pulling in towards the land, little guessing their master is so near' them. If they had been a-land two hours earlier, I should not have been exposed to be hunted- like a fox as I was. Pull a little across the course of the boat, so that we can meet her." , Guilford could now plainly see, not a quarter of a mile off, a black, four-oared barge, pulling steadily in towards the land. No lights were' now visible on board, but every few minutes three round, swinging lanterns had been dis- played for a moment and then removed. As the' boats drew near each other, the barge was stopped suddenly, and there was distinctly heard the clicking of steel against flint. "My merry men are regular devils to be on the alert," said the captain. " They would ham- mer their flints if they saw a-pair of gulls sailing near on a rotten spar.- They willchallenge us, and if we are not quick to give a satisfactory response, they will give us, without shrive, or shrift, a couple of pounds of harquebus balls in our ribs," Scarcely had the stranger spoken, than there came sternly across the water the sonorous hail: a"What boat is there ?" ... "W ahThe prince I" responded the cavalier, in a loud voice. At this the crew of the other boat gave a hearty British huzza; and the oars falling into the water, the barge came bounding across the intervening space of water like an arrow. -The next moment the two boats were side by side and stationary. -Guilford had been struck with amazementwhen. he heard the stranger's answer; and, believing, that it was indeed the prince in person, thioughihe had believed him to be a more youthful. - oking man, he sprang forward to kiss his hand rid declare his devotion to hini even in his exile. "Nay, my brave friend;" said the stranger, raising him up, "I-am not the prince but I-wish I were; for thy sake and his own; for I fear me he has not the good fortune to be go well out of England as I am. -The answer I gave is but FISHERMAN. 81 the name of my ship, and the sign 9f my presence to my men.- I .am glad to meet you again, my trusty hearts I" he now said, turning to -the crew ; and at the same time he exchanged friendly salu- tations with a young officer who commanded the barge, and who seemed exceedingly happy to see him. ".And where is the ship, Edward ?" he asked of him. . -" To the south-west about four iniles." "Are all well on board?" "All, my lord." "And any news? You have been late." " We would have been in earlier, but a yacht was hovering about us till night, and-kept us from advancing ; and at length it became so close a watcher that the count.fired a gun,;and brought her to, and captured her. He feared they would run in and report the ship." " He did right. Whose yacht was it ?" The answer was spoken in so low a tone that Guilford did not hear it; for the young officer seemed to speak with constraint-before him " Ah, do not fear my friend here, Edward. I owe mny life to his courage. You: must know, I was seated in the village inn, quietly waiting for the night, after having by a miracle got, away from - London, vhen all at once there tap-room was filled by as truculent a set of Cromwell's worthies as you ever chanced to' meet with, Well, I had to put a bold face on theta matter, and pretended to take no notice of them. s po0 found they were despatched to guard the coas to prevent Prince Charles from' getting out. of England; for Olivethas sent guards from Land's End to Newcastle, to keep him within the island; but Heaven grant him a safe escape fromis toils and a trimph over all his enemies !" , "Amen 1" said Guilford, in so hearty a tone, that the youthful seaman who had been called Edward graspet him by the hand, and =said, enthusiastically " Whoever you are, you are my friend, since you pity the prince." Guilford returned the pressure with delight, and the captain resumed : "My wits were now set to work to find some way of getting out of the inn without attracting the particular notice of these suspicious RBund.; heads. But the first movement I made to rise to settle my bill and leave was observed by two of them;, who came near and said, impertinently and in their sanctimonious whine: "'Brother, thou needest not depart. Thto. =-- _ t x page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] THlE YONNG FISHElMAN. shalt abide and sup with us, an'd we will drink to the health of the'Joshua of the Lord.' "By this I knew hey meant Oliver their inas- S ter, andI swoireziternally that I would have my tongue cut ont'}efore I would lift a cup to my lips in his hOgr. So I resolved, before I drew the noti more of them upon me, that I would bolt 'ee;and trust to my good fortune ; for if they re by chance to discover who I was, I knew : my fate was sealed. So, without more ado,'I seized a settle,and swinging it broadly, knocked my two civil friends to the flooi-, and clearing myway, I gained the outside of the hostel, aid then-ran for it. It was some seconds before-they fully understood the matter who were outside; but no sooner did the idea take them that I was not running for a wager, but for my head, than they were not backward in making sail after me. Instinctively i made for the sea- side, where I hoped to see my boat, for it wa the hout I looked for her appearance to take mp off to my ship. But no boat was to be seen, and I followed the beach at life-speed, followed by ny pursuers,who gave race after me like a pack of hounds. I shot two of them as they came after me; but a third, who was mounted, would, haven't me down but for this brave fellow, who knocked' him out of his saddle with a pistolet shot, and then got me off in his boat, which was close athanai. So you see I have had a narrow .. esd s kand if you and my merry men love me, Edward, you will think much of this bold youth, Guilford Graham." "Weare friends from this hour," answered the elg yqung sailor, whom Gdilford thought handsome~ enough to be a woman, and laying his hand affectionately upon hid shoulder. -"We ill now pull- to the ship," said the cap- tain; "but, my brave fisherman, wilt thou not go on board with me ? - I wish to show thee my brain craft and my true men all,-every soul of whom will be thy friend for what thou hast.done to-night: Come, do not hesitate. I will have thee and thy boat put adrift by sunrise, if thou likest, near enough to the coast for thee to row in in half an hour." " I will go on board, if coming nearer the shore -of England at dawn will not put thee in peril oil my account." " Not a bit; my good friend; I care not, when I am on board, how near I run in and snap my fingers at Cromwell's clumsy war ships. Give way, my men ; we will take the boat, to which I inipart owe my safety, in tow." Almost in opposition to his own real wishes, Guilford found himself consenting to visit the ship. The captain had fascinated him, and he felt that he should be content to unite his fortunes with his, after he should have taken farewell of Lady Catharine. Indeed, from the fitt, when the stranger hinted' mechanically that 'he had a ship, a wish was born in "Guilford's heart to sail with him and win a name upon the'seas. It was mainly under the impulse of this scarcely-formed idea that he yielded to the invitation to go on board. "I will, at least, see for myself," he said with- in himself, musingly ; "and if Ifind that here is a career open before me for honor and fame, I will embrace it, if this brave captain will take me into his service." In half an hour after' he had consented to be taken on board the ship, she was seen looming up about a mile distant, darkly and ipdistinct, like a huge floating castle with gray towers., A single blue light was placed over the quarter as a guide to the boat, in order that it might not mistake another vessel for it. "She is' a very large vessel, sir," remarked Guilford, as she grew larger and larger'on the vision of his eye' as they approached the place where she majestically rose and fell upon the long swells of the quiet sea." "Yes -'we have not less than three hundred men on board, and some thirty cannons at her- sides, besides two swivels in each top." " It must be a very fine thing to command'so brave a ship as that, sir captain." " That is as a person's- aibiti*n may meusuro. Some particular friends oft'itie, young man, would hardly be content with less than a channel fleet." " I am sure I should consider my fortune made' for life, sir, to command a single ship half the size of this. How grandly she towers upward, like Castle Vat e seen from the beach 1" "Castle Vane ?-that is Lord Charles Vane's residene,'and was near where we embarked ?" "The very castle, sir, that was on the cliff." "So I supposed. Is Lord Vane at hOme, canst say'?" " The young lord is, sir captain."' "Ay-is he ? A young man that I do not, much fancy." "Nor I,ny lord," answered Guilford, speak- ing without reflection from the feelingof fthe moment. "Ha! has he crossed thy path, then, young man?" 9 THE YOUNG FISHER "I like him not well, my lord." Many a knight asi n ble, and I wot princes too, * - "-Common report hath it tbpt .he hath a fair will be suing for her hand. But here we are, sister. Hast thou, living so near, by chance discoveredand bailed." seen her'? If so, canst thou bear witness to her Guilford's heart was swelling. Hope was comeliness'?" dying in him at these last words of the captain. . " She is very fair, my lord captain.", He feltithat he was mad longer, to think of her. "Thou hast seen her, then'?" He now saw more vividly than ever his rashnpss " Yes, my lord," answered Guilford, blushing, and folly. He, the poor fisher, to cope ,with and both pleased and annoyed at having Lady knights, nobles, and princes! .,He, felt, like Catharine the subject ofieonversation. To him dropping into the deep, deep sea, and putting she was something consecrated to his most secret an end forever, thought he, to this wild hope, thoughts, and the idea of whom he could share his ambitious madness, his despair, and all the with no one. future of misery which he saw before him on " She will be one of the proudest peeresses in earth. the realm ifthe young king comes to the throne. 9 CHAPTER IX. A THRILLING SCENE. JtDGING from the captain's reception on board 'my life. 'I was hotly pursued, to the coast by a his ship, Guilford entertained the highest now spore of Ctomwell's hounds, and-this youngiman; tions of his authority and popularity. The~scene shot down the leading trooper and got me safely which the long, warlike decks presented to, his off in his boat.. This is enough for me tosay to eyes, lighted up by rows of battle lanterns, was place hint on the proper footing with you all" novel and stirring to the blood. Three hundred At this, severas ofi the officers advanced and men were arranged in-orderly ranks to welcome shook Guilford by the hand, and especially the their returned chief, and the red glare of thalan- young men were enthusiastic in their congratua terns falling upon their features, lent to their nations. Guilford'. feelings mnay be guessed at, countenances and picturesque; costumes, a ro- but hardly described, His heart bouuled: with mantic character that did not fail to impress the joy, fbhyhe: felt that ,through this fair reception lively- imagination of young Guilford. There might be opened a way for his advancement. were:at least a dozen officers also-assembled on The captain now descended, or rather walked the quarter deck, some .of them men with gray aft into his state-cabin, which was an elaborately beatds, others young and ardent; They were carved housebuilt over the stern of the after e~h and all handsomely attired in gold-laced twenty feet of "the deck; for, like the ship cif coats .and rich chapeaux with plumes. The that period, the'stern rose very loftily, so that a whole appearance of the ship, with its tiers of person standing upon the top of the poopapdd cannon, its crowds of fighting men, armed with his;head very nearly on a level, with the mizen long pistolets. and cutlasses, and its chivalrous top. looking group of officers, who all seemed gentle- At the invitation of the captain, Guilford fol- men born, struck Guilford in the most favorable lowed him into the first apartment--fo'r there manner. was a roomswithin a room. Before the door of While he was, casting his eyes about him,, and the farthest state-room stood a sentry. fillingthem with the new scenes thug, suddenly: " What, how is this'?" he asked of his- firpt opened before hit, the captain, who was plainly .lieutenant, seeing-the soldier. dressedland in travel worn costume, placed his " My.lord, here ;,;h written reports of all hand on his shoulder and said to, his officers that has transpired 0%y9e landes gou three " Messieurs, to this young fisherman. I owe weeks ago, dt Eastigs ega ,' sai ii ,_ L ? ° page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 84 Tfl l aGUNG that officer, handing him a book. "You will find in it that last-iigit we brought to a yacht, and have detained the parties, one of whom is a lady, and at the present time occupies the inner state-room." "Yes, yes, Edward said something to me about it," answered the captain; "but as I 'am now on board, there can be no harm in letting them depart. Where is the yacht 7" "It is alongside, my lord." " How many persons did it contain i" "Seven. A gentleman and young lady, one passenger, and a crew of four men." "Bring- the gentleman before me." "My lord, shall I leave ?" asked Guilford, who saw that this was to-be a private interview. "No; remain where you are, my friend, I want to talk with you by-and-by."- The next moment the lieutenant returned, conducting Lord Rudolph Vane into the state- cabin. His face was pale, and his eye had a tremulous light of fear in it. Guilford instantly recognized him, but not caring to be recognized ia return, he withdrew into the shadow of one of the gilded columns that supported the- deck, overhead. - But theleyes of Lord Rudolph were fixed only on the dark, noble, commanding fa e a form of-the captain. c"tam sorry,=sir, that my rce , hi .- senee, was under the necessitotdetai ing you. You;are at liberty to depda 'ny moment. May I know whom I have the honor of -enter- taining as-my guest I" ",Lord Rudolph Vane, of castle Vane," an- swered' thp-young man, haughtily; for, finding- that:no danger was to be apprehended, his na- tive insolence and audacity returned. -" Ah, my lord, indeed i I have heard of you," said-the captain, with a darkening brow; " and what I have heard gives your honor not over much credit.", "Do you insult me, sir I" demanded Rudolph, fiercely. "Be- calm, my lord. Your ire here will do you no good. You are in my hands, and if you knew 'who I am, you would expect the next moment oisear me give the order to have you hanged at my fore-yard-arm." Lord Rudolph shuddered. His face became as pale as marble.4 "Who---who are youI What have you against me I 'You dare not harm me." ~'No manr deres mes, Lord Vane. Last night, without, who you were, my officer .in 1ISHERMAN. charge; seeing you hover about the ship like a spy, as no doubt you were, captured you. My first order, before hearing your name, was for. your release, for anything you can now report on land can do us no harm; for cre twelve hours, we shall be - sailing many leagues from here. But since I learn who you are, I wish to show you that I ani too far above you to crush such a reptile. Deeply as you-have wronged me-base as you are-recreant as you have proved to your oath as a noble, you are too far beneath my. contempt to come within the notice of my ven- geance. "Who are you ?" demanded Rudolph, with his eyes red with rage and alarm. "I am the Earl of Villiers," answered the captain, in a voice of thunder. Instantly Lord Rudolph sunk upon his knees, like a man who has been smitten down by some irresistible stroke.' "Wellymay you tremble, caitiff! Ay, I am that nobleman-that friend of the king, who, by your treachery, was brought to the scaffold, and -b'ot nry right hand! Look ye ?" and the, cap- tain-held up before the eyes of the terror-stricken ung-lord,-the- stuii of his wrist. " Under mask of courting ,mny daughter, Lady Jane, you wormed yourself into a loyalnoble's house;crept like a serpent into the sacred circle of my do- mestic hearth, crouched like a toad in the corner of my library and council rooms till you learned' that I Was leader of a conspiracy to bring Crom- well's head to the block. Then, charged with the news, tho.- didst mock any daughter's'love and leave her, andepour into the protector's'ear all thy treacherous intelligence. For this tihou .wert rewarded with my fair estate as the hire Far thy villany, and I and mine exchanged= dur sweet home for a prison. But thanks to thy sister, who, when she heard all that thou hadst - done, and for love of my daughter,, with iwho she studied her books at common tutelage, -my' hand and not my head satisfied the usurper, and I, with my child, was exiled beyond sea. Well mayest thou crouch and moan. -There is. no- man on the round earth into whose hands you should so much-fear to fall as into mine." The wretch remained upon his knees, looking_ the very picture of fear' and abjectness. The dread of theeath which he felt he richly meriteild was stamped upon his clammy brow. lH4lips- moved, as if trying to form words ta"ask for' mercy, yet no sound came from them, aa If felt that all petitions would be in vain'. I Tflfl Y~ OMN. R ^r i d rttmat hastthQt;to answer for thyself, thou false and traitorous noble? Shall I nQt hang, thee?" " For umy sister's sake !" he gasped, as if he had.caught a faint ray of hope., "1Thy sister ! Ah, yes ; for her sake I would do much, for I owe to her tears and eloquence with the stern, flinty Cromwell, my head. What of-her ?" "She is here ! Let her speak for me." "By the rood, she may speak for thy life and gain it ; but thou shalt lose thy right hand this night, as surely as there is justice on earth." "Mercy ! mercy-my lord !" " Ho there ! Lieutenant St. Clair ! Call the men together to execution." -" 0, you are not going to kill me !" "If thy sister pleads not for thy life, it is not worth a mavaredi to thee ; but thy right hand shall be cut off. I have sworn it." With a shriek, the craven noble fell down in a swoon his full length upon the floor. A voice from the inner cabin was now heard in earnest implorations. Guilford, who had al- ready divined that Lady Catharine was the female who had been .captured with the yacht, no*.recognised the tones, and he darted impul- sively towards the door; but the sentry presented his cutlass, and held him back. He then ad- vanced towards the earl, and said with mueh excitement "It is the Lady Catharine Vane, my lord-it is his sister.". "I will at once speak with her," he answered, and approached the door, which he unlocked. The maiden stood before it, with her toilette .considerably dishevelled, her rich hair freely, floating lpon her shoulders, and her beauty iit creased b' the excitement of her feelings,, "Lady Catharine Vane, I am not your jailer, but your debtor," said the earl; courteously. "Why are we detained prisoners ? What is this I have overheard about the execution of my brother?" she,-asked, earnestly. "Lord Rudolph is notr to be executed if you ask his life; but he is nevertheless doomed to a punishment at no mediation can save him from. In lady, you behold Lord Villiers. This name lesnough to show you what I owe to your generns interposition, and what"I owe to your.brother. Here let me thank you, both for my daughter and for myself, for the life which you were instrumental in saving from the block." "Thensspare my bother ! 0, he is already dad !" fhe exe ined, on discovering him upop the cabin floo;about being raised up and re- vived by some'attendants, "lay, it is only a swoon." "0, spare his life, my noble lord 1" I will do so, for your sake. And he el4l understand that to you alone he owes it,' At this moment, in looking around hrher eyes fell on Guilford, who was standing near, reserved and diffident, listening to what-was said. She no sooner beheld him, than she seemed to forget everything else, everybody about her; for, running towards him,) she caught hii by both hands, and exclaimed, with the artless delight of a child which amid strangers suddenly discovers a familiar face: " You here, Guilford ? Heaven be praised 1" The earl, who saw the act, and observed the expression of pure delight and frankness 'upon her beautiful face, was not a little surprised; and when he saw 'this pleasure reflected from the handsome features of the young fish roman ' he was hot a little perplexed. "Do not fear; Lady Kate, you ae safe, and in the hands of a n bleu'gbrtle a,' Ajd niilford, enc6uragingly. "I hope you are tot here a prisoner i-that you are not in any danger?" "Be assured, tady Catharine," said the earl, smiling, " that there is not at this mnient more honored person in this ship than this young man, who, I am pleased to see, is also known to you; to him I owe my life, He brought me off to my ship in his boat, and without'his gallalt aid I should now no longer be alive." * Thanks-thanks! I am so glad you hae ^ ablesto serve the earl. Ah, Guilfordtoy brother has done him great wrong. Bttmy lord, I beseech thee, forgive him." "Plead for me, Catharine !" suddenly caled out the young noble, who had been brought to his senses. "Plead for me." " She has done so successfully, my lord," an- swered the earl, coldly. "She has gained thy life for thee." "But my hand! You will not cirt offmy hand I" ' "Were an angel to descend from the blue skies and ask me to spare thy hand, Iwould not do it. It lsaneed and rip justice that thou shouldst not g& unpunisl'$n j " My lord, ercy fo brot s 1" " Lady," said the earl,'dtai 'i page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] THM .OU N1GISHERMAN. maiden by the hand, and leading her gently into the rear state-room, "do not' pain me by com- pelling me to deny what I cainIot grant. ' Be- lieve me, this is not vengeancelit duty. It is justice that Lord Rudolph should be compelled to suffer what he has been .ii Srumcntal in in- flicting upgn me." "0, ny lord, leave vengeance to him to whQm it b longeth- " It is not vengeance. It is punishment. Re- main here. Do not-leave until Ireturn to you,' he said kindly, but firmly. " But for thy pres- ence here, I should have hanged him to the yard-arm; not from personal hatred, but because he is so sleepless a foe to the prince. He - even condescends to play the spy in the channel in his own person. The lesson he must have. I will return to you in a few moments." CHAPTER X. LOnD nDOLPH'S PUNISHMENT. 'Tn Lady Kate sat upon the ottoman where ho had left her with her hands pressed to her eyes, and her face buried in the cushions. She saw that the earl was inexorable ; and although her brother had never been otherwise than hos-' tile towards her ever sinceshe had pleaded so s c ly for the Earl of Vilhiers, yet she ou ;forget that he was her brother; and, deserved nothing at her hands, yet she fetthat she ought to use all her influence bizfree him from the disgraceful maiming to =haehhe was-about to be subjected. But I can do-no more," she said ; "his fate sealed. "I saw by the earl's eye as he left Ah, poor, erring Rudolph; thou cast blaine only thyself ! Horrid! that rolling drum mus,_ be the signal for the execution of the in- fle . earl's command !" * When, the earl returned from the state-room where he had left.the tearful maiden, he found Lord Rudolph, who had recognized Guilford, and with surprise seen that he was regarded with favor, pleading, with the young fisherman to intercede for him. "Y6u are not a prisoner. I know you can forgive me, for you are naturally generous, I have heard my sister say. Speak a word for me. I cannot endure the loss oT my hand! For my sister's sake, do plead for me!" "I have no power, my lord," answered Guil- ford, who cold not conceal his contempt for his cowardly-conduct at a time when i truly brave a - zd meet Its fate with proud in- to difference. But there was nothing truly great about Lord Rudolph. He could be haughty and cruel in possession.of power, but in suffer- ing he showedin its true colors all the weakness and insignificance of his character. " Will no one intercede for me ?" he cried in despair, seeing Guilford turn away, for he well knew that if Lady Kate could not prevail, no wold he could utter would be regarded. "Is all ready ?" quietly demanded the earl of the officer who had superintended the prepara- tions for the execution of the sentence. "All ready, my lord," answered the officer. Conduct Lord Vane- to the deck, unless he will walk of himself." "Is there no mercy with thee . screamed the, young nobleman. "yThou mightest as well talk to the &xe that is to sever thy'hand. Proceed with: hin, as te is disposed to linger. Nay, do not handle him roughly, for he is noblee birth.", The young lord was then led to the deck. -e was borne along rather than went by his own will. The scene was terribly imposing. .In the centre of the ship just, abaft the capstan, was placed a block. By ii stood four n n. One of them held a glittering battle-axe his hand; another a brazen basin; the third and fourth lanterns. A little in the advance stood the chi- rurgeon of the ship, with his instruments and bandages, added to which was a sething hot iron, for stopping the flow of the blood. The crew stood around, -seven and eight deep, their / bearded faces lighted up byth hung in the rigging. Farther cers, with their swords in their, When Lord Rudolph gazed o well calculated to appal his ne ~teranfee to an audible groan. "'Take him 'in hand,. execute earl, "and at the stroke of the sh duty. This man," added the en him, "is to undergo a just punit information I was condemned but through the intercession ofo Croniwell was content with my h creed that this young lord shal ishment which his master inflict At this there was a general m nation, and the interest deeper dolph, being led up to the block, off his coat. But not obeying, by another, and his arm was th and bound firmly, in spite of h shrieks, to the block. The exec scended upon the wrist, and v shriek rent their ears from the vr ing'hand was caught in the bra chirurgeon instantly proceeded duty, and to staunch the blood earl, turning away from the spot state-room.. "This act of justice done, I a to be branded as Red}Hand, as m Cromwell's epithet, have called n But the protector shall feel that hands is batized in the blood of other bath power enough in its shake his usurped throne !" The earl walked up and down four times, under much excite' t occurrence had naturally boom. 'e then looked around seeking some one. "What, ho!I where is young asked'of the sentry who stood b door which led into the inner ap He passed in, my lord, urgii speak with the lady, and as youh open, I did not consider that sl garded as a prisoner." Very well; you are released: The man retired, and the ea the door, which was ajar. He was about to ent when he arre the threshold ' hat he behel the feet ofhe ping girl, was 36 .' , '.: ' i ., THE -YO BMAN. ie lanterns that ermanh nd clasping that of the high-born aft were the offi- girl, and hisface aproaching hers, and expres- hands. sive of the teo'erest and most fespeCtful symipa- )n this scene, so thy. rves, he gave ut- "It is ove OW, Lady KateI Tears are now of no avail'! I Itwould have pleased thee, I ioner," said the would gladly le' taken his place, though thou ip's bell, do your knowe t I have s reason to love him. But ri, looking about all who are relaies4 , y thee are near to me, for shment. By his thy sake. - Let us -e e tent that his life was to the scaffold; spared, for it was the catalin's certain purpose a noble maiden, to have hanged him, but f4thee." land. I have de- "I cannot blame-I caidt.,reproach. Ru-. l share the pun- dolph must feel the justice of his ft , she said; ed upon me." with, sudden resolution. "But ho ' iskthou urmur of appro- on board this terrible vessel ?"' ned. Lord Ru- " I came to bring off the captain,vho, being was told to take on shore, was set upon and nearly .slain by it was removed Cromwell's troopers ; and although I was on,n en stretched out my way, dearest Lady Kate, to'the castle'tq .a' is struggles and thee, I turned aside for his safety,' and' caet utioner's axe de- hither, little expecting to find thee on board as -I while a thrilling have done." ictim, the bleed- "'My brother, when he had taken me firoa zen basin. The your fishing boat, how I chanced'to be in which to perform his I explained to him, instead ongoingg to land, while the stern hovered in the channel till night, and then be- t, re-entered the gan to watch this vessel, whichhe was*expecting, for he has been out in his yacht for fopaytj , m more content waiting to intercept the captain fromt° Ae nen, catchingip when he should come on board, as fI er'fim ne,far and wide. say to the young man with him, who Iaorte t if one of my of Cromwell's agents. Do you kno* who the the scaffold, the captain is?" she asked pointedly, and in an strong nerve to under tone. "The Earl Villiers." his cabin three "Yes, but are you aware that this ship is that rment, which the of the far-famed Red Hand ?" awakened in his "Of Red Hand the buccaneer ?" exclaimed , as if he were Guilford, starting to his feet with surprise. "Earl Villiers and Red Hand, of whom I have Graham " he, heard you name the bold exploits, are one and y the half open the same person." artment. " Can this be possible ? Are you in the rower ag that he must of this terrible man ?" hadleft the door " You mistakehim. It is the cttxon people, he was to be re- the round-heads, who call hii' e . He is no buccaneer, Guilford, bit aneil oble, who from duty." has united with himself many bravftirits like rl advanced to his own, who, in this ship, hover about England, opened'it, and seeking to do all the injury to the usu-per's ause sted himself on that lies in their power, and to have ever ready d. Kneeling at for the prince an armed ship to take lzinp over the young fish- the sea when he is driven to the la ld op i ^ '. 3 a page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] FISmRMAN. X88 his ghtfulkingdom. There is np truer noble But one thing it is proper for te to do, and that rpatheg$in England than Lor&; illiers, known is, to break off a friendship which will only con- as Red Hand. I can - forgive hign his punish- tinue to embarrass you, when you reflect upon ment af Rudoph, for my- brothr has cruelly your own position, and my low station. Per- caussd'all his-woe. But of bi I will talk with haps, as younger, it was allowable, as you conde& you another time." scended to suffer it ; but, Lady Catharine, I can- "And is thia Red Iad p ? Is that cap- not expect you, in womanhood, to abide by the tain whose life I save4' p shore, the daring friendship of girlhood, Here let me say fare- channel cruiser who{as defied and beaten off well; for I may have no other opportunity. May four of the protects ships ? Is this the man you one day be united with one worthy of you that I have reg'ar4 I as the hero of romance, and in rank and virtue, and I will always pray for whose exploits wy-* the wonder of my curiosity ? your happiness." I am gladyo i have corrected my error with re- With these words he knelt, pressed her hand gagg4t ,, ,Lady Kate. But he is called Red to his lips, and was retiring precipitately, when -and, the Rover, often." he found himself face to face with the earl. "Yes, the , covenanters, who fear-him, would "My young friend, do not be so hasty. I have frighten their children with his name as with a heard and understand all. You have acted no- goblin's. But I know that he is a true and loyal bly. Your own heart is breaking as a sacrifice to -Englishman, and one of the staunchest friends what you believe to be a duty. Lady Catharine, of he crown; and that he does more to keep you look puzzled and distressed. May I ask you alive the flame of loyalty by his active and sleep- one plain question ?" less courage than any of the exiled lords. He "Yes, my lord." alone, as it were, wages war against Cromwell, "Are you attachedto this brave young man ?" who has offered vast sums for his capture. All " We have long been friends, my lord." this:I have learned from my father, who has the " Have you any wish to terminate the friend- highest regard for him, and who has shed many ship, as you term it ?" a bitter tear that he should have'had a son who " Indeed,-I was never more surprised,- could indict auch injury upon him. Confide in when-" biz, Guilford, and he will be your.friend." " It is because you do not clearly understand "Lady Catharine," said Guilford, in a changed him. He feels, and properly, that you1and he and formal tone, while Lord Villiers, who was can never be united as if you had both been no- each moment tempted to enter, but was yet re- ble; and being fully alive to the difficulties that strained, saw that his face grew pale, and his lips must interpose to bar such a union, he nobly colorless. She looked up into his face, for he sacrificeshimself." was standing by her, with a stare ofIsurprise at "He then does not understand me, my lord. this unusual mode of addressing hey. I have never taken into thought the differences "Whpt is it, Guilford ?" she asked, artlessly. of our rank. I trust, Guilford, you will think of " I told you that last.night, when I was so for- this no more." tunate as to offer assistance to Lord Villiers, I " You are too kind and generous, Lady Catha- was ;onm y way to the castle. It was in.order ring," said Guilford, casting himself at her feet. to see you and have a last interview with you. " But I must win a name, to make myself more It was to take leave of you forever." worthy of you. If you waive all rank, I shall " Take leave ofme, Guilford ? Where are you try and achieve, instead, merit. It shall be my going? or what have I done !" she asked with ambition to make myself worthy of you, and surprise. make the world respect himwhom'Lady Catha I' Nothing. Where I am going, I upw pmt rine Vane thus honors." i * , 4' , CHAPTER. XI. TflI TURN TO CASTLE VANE. 'Tma interview with which the last chapter closedd having thugs happily terminated, the earl, after complimenting Guilford on his spirit, pro- posed to him, if nothing better offered, to take service with him in his ship. "We shall not always be wanderers over the- sea, my friend," he said ; "the prince will one day gain hisihrone, and then we shall be at the top. As for Lady Catharine's heart, you maybe sure that it is in the right place ; and I have a higher regard for you'than before, since I fid' you possess qualities. to win the attachment of- so lovely a lady, who, in the brightness of your, character, can discover no obscurity of birth.. Now I have one favor to ask of you," added the earl,- " and trat i5 that you will take command of the yacht and convey Lord Rudolph and' fair sister safely back to Castle Vane: He'" of course,- be something of an invalid, and mnd be. tenderly; eared for. The person who ws taken with him in the yacht, is a'spy of Crom- well's and I shall take care of him'here. If at any time you wish to join my fortunes, you will hear,of me, if you 'Will run over in your boat to the French coast, and land on the island of Al- derney, off .Cape de la Hague. At 'that little port there is aninn, painted red. The lsandlord' "4xways knowmy term of absence- -whdn in hway,' and and line left there for me will be faithfully given into my possession when I put in there." Guilford thanked the earl for his kindness, and - answered that he thought he should very soon be conpe'lled to take him at his word and seek service with him. "Thou shalt be welcome, and although I can do but tle for thee under my present fortunes; sote 'd ,hen I rise, you will rise th me." noble earl,_I fear," safGuilford, I shall hardly ever rise sa'hlgh as rthy_ pdoffer the Lady Catharine a hand tha u~d not be despised by her proud houe." "Courage, brave youth. In thede top- :ing ties, o are at the bottom of the fadded-d ,'-morrow may stand on the top d. With a'face, figure, health and courage r and above all, with such a pie to you havenothing to fear." " This conversation took place in the other cab- in. The officer of the deck now entered and re, ported that the yaclt was alongsid, and her crew on board and all was ready for her depar. 'ure. "That-is as it should be. Nc friend, you must;convey Lord Rui maiden to Castle1Vane. Go 0o Lady Cathariie shall be esc yacht."' *i ' young.. i1rtho 4 -y-r i page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] AOw Guilford then took a grateful leave of the for- midable Red Hand, in whose dry presence he could scarcely realize himself to have been, and descended into the yacht. The snrlight shone brightly upon its low deck, on wich, stretched upon a cot, he saw the prostrate form of Lord Rudolph, looking ghastly p. the face. He advanced towards him, and it- kindly : "I hope, my lord, you do not -suffer a great deal of pain ?" "Pain ! Iendure infernal torments. Who are you ? I see, now. What do you want in my yacht ?" "I am prpered by Lord Villiers to take charge ft, and see you safely to Castle Vane, as he can spare none of his men." "Where is Tennett I" " Whomy lord?" " The gentleman who came with me." "I heard the- earl say that as he was a spy of Cromwell's, he should put him in irons. My lord, I have no desire to undertake this duty, but it is the earl's command. I am truly sorry for your misfortune, and will see you to Castle Vane with all tenderness." " And Lady Kate ?" The answer to this interrogation was prevent- ed by the appearance of Red Hand, conducting the noble girl to the yacht. Guilford sprang for. ward to receive her and leadher to a seat in the stern; but she stopped short of it, and bent over her brother with affectionate solicitude. "Now, my noble young friend," said Lord Villiers "I need not tell you what a valuable freight entrust to your charge. and remember " he added, in an unde der- ney Isle and the inn, if you hami y poor services. And for you, Lord Rudolph, I wish you a better heart and more true nobility. I have given you a daily r rance of megso I will not ask you to bear m wIiind. Adieu, fair Lady Catharine. What I have witnes and learned of the true nobility of yo , ter to-night, has caused me to respect you of the rarest jewels among women. You have not," he added to her ear, "lightly bestowed your heart. Believe me, this brave y6uth will yet causehisname to fill a brilliant page in Eng. land's history." "I feel it, my lord. He is all that's good, and noble, and tr'ue." a Love and ,cherish him, for women do notl alway. me to love. I hope, one of these days, u happiness. 4Farewell; it i [A N$ but tw'oleagues to yourfather's castle. Commend me to him; but do not from me excuse my pun- ishment of his son, for I have performed but a stern and painful duty." " I know it, my lord," she answered, sadly. He pressed her hand to his lips, and left the deck of the yacht for his own lofty ship. The next moment the little vessel was cast off from the huge side of the channel cruiser, and -taking the helm, Guilford gave orders to the crew to trim the sails, and with a light, but fa- vorable breeze, he lay the course of the yacht for the main. The ship at the same time squared herenormous yards, andher head swinging round westward, she steered on that track till Guillord could see her no longer. The yacht, in the meanwhile, bounded lightly along on her land.- ward track, and clearer and higher the cliff with its castle rose before him. The lights of the little fishing village at its base appeared one after the other ; and from one of the towers one light, brighter than the rest, shone like the lantern of a Pharos. "That is -my father's room, Guilford," said Lady Kate, seeing that he was regarding it. " Doubtlesshe is seated there at his books, for he has the name of being a great scholar, thou hast heard." 4 " Perhaps it is to guide thee back." "Nay, he nor no one is aware that I have been on the sea the last twelve hours. You recollect, Guilford, that my getting into your boat was only the whim of the moment !aand after my brother so strangely took possession of me,.I had no chance of return. Perhaps my father supposes that I am in my room; for I am so much accus- tomed to rove about for hours, that unless I am particularly wanted, it is not known whether I am in the castle or abroad." " I hope you will not have been missed." " Catharine," said Lord Rudolph in a queru- lous voice. " What, brother Rudolph?" she answered, has- tening to his side. "You hage slept well." "I wish to exact an oath from- you. I see we are near the castle. Swear to me, by your hopes of heaven that you will never reveal to my father nor any otherliving being the disgrace Ihave to- night suffered !". " I will not reveal it, brother, if you desire the secret to be kept." " Desire it to be kept ! It must be kept a close secret! If you do not blab- it, and this fishing friend of yours can be forced to be so. 1 tN. cret, I will manage to hide from my friends the loss of my hand. I cold never endure the scornful laugh, the consciousness of a mutilation so degrading.".' "But it must be known, brother." "It is known only to the crew of this infernal pirate, not one of whom will ever dare land in England. If you keep the secret, and this fellow can be made to do it--" " Guilford Graham is a person who can be trusted, brother," she said with some earnestness. "So you think. He has fascinated you, girl, by some vile spell. Call him to me. Nay, I will not speak to him, but will leave it to you to exact silence from him." "I will promise it for him. But you forget the four men, your crew." " They will not breathe it.' They are the min- ions of my will. Go and see what this Graham answers." In a frame of mind far from welcome, Lord Rudolph lay upon his couch; for his pride strug- gling with a fierce sentiment of hatred and craven fear, and mingling with some little de- gree of remorse, kept up a fearful tempest of passion in his soul. Lady Catharine left him on her message to Guilford, a prey to emotions of perfect torture. However, by an effort stronger than 'was his wont, he checked their sway, and awaited, coolly as he might, the answer of Guil ford. " He says he has no desire to report it," she answered, after going to the helm where Guil- ford stood, steering the vessel in towards the foot of the cliff. "I shall take care to keep it myself," he mut- tered, smiling, as if he heard her words with evident satisfaction. The yacht now drew nearer the land, and was soon within the black shadow cast by the tall cliff. A few minutes afterwards she came to the stone pier, where the boats of the castle were usually moored. Here Guilford brought the yacht skilfully to alongside the landing steps. The men obeyed his orders in furling the canvas and making her fast; and then taking the cot up on which the young lord-.was lying, they proceeded to bear him ashore, and convey him up the steep path to the castle. Guilford gave his whole attention to the comfort of the invalid, taking care that the men moved steadily and cautiously, while Lady Kate went on before. At length they reached the gate of the castle, *where, after delivering his charge to the warder, .to whom lqrd Rudolph said he had been merely wounded in duello, he left to return-to his own home. , But hehad not advanced ten steps from the portcu pre he was detained by the voice of Lady Kat ofose at his side. " Why, G U , you do not well to take your leave so quicTor rather no leave at all., You have not given°a time to thank you." " I did but feintforritate your brother nsre if he saw me take leavv of thee,"'he answered, pressing ,o his lips the land she placed confid- ingly in his. " You are too guarded, G4ilford. You know not how proud I have been ofyou this day 4t41 night past. I cannot return with te toe g my sense of your noble delicacy. I pyM j4 and understand it all. From this time we know each other, and you will not mistrust me ?" "Mistrust thee, Lady Kate ?" " Nay, that is not the word, exactly. But you will not doubt my regard for you ?" "I cannot; you are too kind, when you know, as I now do fully, how far beneath you-I am." "Love knows no-rank. You are worthy of me, or I should never have- loved or cared for you. How like you Red Hand3". "And that noble gentleman and right hearted patriot was the famous sea king I have heard so much of. How difficult is for me-to realize that in the Earl Villiers I saw none other than that celebrated captain." "Do you not like him ?" "It seems to me I could die for him." "So do all men who know him, my father says; and he is not the least of his fri . But how shall I forgive him his act of to 1" ,"It was" terrible, retribution, Lady , but was it not deserved ?" "I cannot deny it. My brother has deeply wronged him; and perhaps it is just be himself should endure something of the suffering he has indicted upon. him. It was a mercy that he spared his life. Now, my noble friend, since we must part, tell me frankly where you are to go- what course you have marked out for yourself, so that one day you may come back and ask my hand of my father; for, as thou hast said thou must achieve somewhat to please him and give thee honor., I will wait thy time, true to thee, even to death, so that thou comest not in life to laim me as' thine." SThis was spoken with all the truthfulness and sweet confidence of a woman who lpyes with'all her heart. I. . .tr ,, :,, , page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] -e THEM iiMAN. y~j "I have hardly formed a plan, dear Lady are true, and the prince is making his way to Kate. I will, by to-morrow, decide. But my the south of England, hoping to'find a passage mind is so full of the Earl of the fed Hand, across to France." that I shall probably decide by gi g to offer "Heaven grant that he may reach France in him my services." safety, and foil all his foes," said Guilford, with "That would please me, Guilib . He thinks warmth. " But Cromwell is so vigilant, his much of you. Though i is nQ*liut the head emissaries are so numerous,his spies so vigilant, of a small company, and coaia s but a single that every person who cannot give a satisfactory shipbnder good King e irst, he was account of himself, will be placed under arrest." lord high admial, and ri ednavies by his nod." The lovers had now reached the point in the "I will follow his fortunes." path down the cliff where it became precipitous. " Thou wilt not be~led astray? The times Here they stopped, and Lady Kate, taking Guil- are ripening, zi y-' her says, for the thronie to ford by the hand, looked him earnestly in the hate its ,W p The land is weary of the eyes, and said: its tyranny. Prince Charles "You are going to seek your fortune and win defeated, it is true, and is now a fugi- a name. But remember, I do not ask either tire, either in Scotland or England, at this mo- from you; but they are your own voluntary ment; but if he escape over sea, he will then be wish; and never forget that, if after all, you the rallying point for armies of tens of thou- should return unfortunate, and without the suc- sands." cess you hope for, you will be received by me "It was rumored yesterday," said Guilford, with the same affection with which I now part "that the prince had been seen in Warwick in from you." the disguise of a pack-man, travelling south. It The lovers now took leave of each other, and' was also reported that one who had known him Guilford hastened down the precipitous path perfectly, saw the same packenan in Berkshire, without trusting his eyes to look back and take south of Oxford, two days afterwards." another look of the fair form which he knew " We heard of this; and doubtless the reports was lingering to gaze after him. 4 CHIAPTER XII. SURPRIsING INTELLIGENCE TO GUILFORD. "Marry have I? Blood shed for the prince. You must know that I did but fill a cup in the inn yonder to the Prince Charles, when, these Cromwell troopers set uponlie, and wouldthave slain me outright, but for Dame Bess, the' boe- teas, who took my part, and told them roundly I was but a poor, innocent, and meant nsibody no harm, and wouldn't hurt a fly, as thou know- est, Master Guilford." "What have Cromwell's troopers top in the inn?" " Cromwell's troopers? .What, hast t " not heard the news? This is a godsend, then, .. thou hast not heard what I supposed every ma woman and child in' all the village had hear . Wiy, if there is one trooping roundhead in the port, there is two hundred and fifty of the shaven crowned, psalm-singing rogues." "What are, they doing here ? When did they come ?" asked Guilford, with surprise; for hav- ing left the village just before their arrival the evening before, he knew nothing of the object of this newyg ision o( the covenanters, though that a partypfy.them were in the town he was aware, from their chase of the captain. But he ignorant of'the particulars. " .They came galloping ,in about sundown, and what-,could not find quartga it theinn, dispersed over the hamlet, not a TaE way by which he now left the castle was not that which descended to the beach, where the boats usually were, but a path that led north- ward down the hill :towards the country-side, and which conducted perseps who left the castle for the, interior, to the main road a, mile off. Upon reaching the deep glen at the foot of. the eminence, Guil(ord struck into a broader cart- way that went in the direction of 'the village. He walked onward, lost in his own thought, and thinking upon the chances of the future. He had emerged from the little dale, and had the village roofs in sight, when the voices of singing and bacchanalian carousing reached his ears. He stopped, surprised' at:what he heard,, and then hastened forward to ascertain the cause of such unusual sounds. He had gone but a few steps further, however, when he saw a man seated by the roadside, groaning in a most piti- able way. He approached him, and recognized Digby, the well-known village busybody and gossip. "Up, man, up ! What aileth the,.Digby ?" "What, is it thee, Master Guilford ?" asked the man, starting to his feet and hugging the young fisherman with great delight. "I am glad to see thee !". " What hath happened ? Thy clothes are torn half off thy back, and thou hast blood on thy cheek." "i. a 5r f 'd r f i." N _ 1 ' _ page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] 44 THE YQ house that has not a bracq of them. to kiss the lasses and eat out the larders. for what they ha' come for, it is to ke watchh that Prince Charles don't find shippig at our little fishing town and get safe over to once." "This is news, indeed, for atir quiet town, Digby. I knew some had beed here, but sap- posed they had left. Dost thiknow whether there are any of these roundhead rogues at my cabin?" "Marry, come up, Inverily believe that the two most truculent fiends among 'em, the two Goliaths of Gath, are making themselves at homethere." #'!n I ought to be there at once," said the yng man, hurrying forward. "But, be discreet. I would advise thee en- treat them civilly." " I shall be discreet, you may rest assured. I= shall-take care not to propose Prince Charles's health- to a brace of covenanters," he added, laughing. "Nay, take me with thee. Let me keep un- der the protection of th'valiancy, good Master Guilford. When I got tay head broke, I went to thy house first, but the good dame told me thou hadat taken the way to the castle last;.and although after midnight I came this way to wait for thy coming, an I will not leave thy back while a -onndhead varlet hath footing in the town. --There'is nothing like courage to defelid a mailagainst'dangers; and if a man have it not hiniself, he must seek it elsewhere; and marry, I know thou hast enough for thee and e.- Hgk! hear the arrant hypocrites sing their long winded Old Testament verses. There was d~a chap of them who had a beard like a lion, who did nothing but sing over a chapter ol proper names, as 'Moses begat Boaz,' and by the way he rolled his eyes up, one woujd have fancied he got great grace from the em- ployisent." Digby went on talking after this fashion, until they came to a lane turning towards the water from the main street, on which the hamlet was built. At the foot of this lane stood his own cottage. At the corner of it he was challenged by a trooper mounted on a black horse. "Who goes there?" "A fisherman." "Advance, and- let me see if thou smelles. fishy," answered the man, in a coarse manner. Guilford approached him, and taking off his bonne t i wed him his face. RMAN. a "Where dost thou live ?" " There !" he answered, pointing at his house. " And what art thou doing abroad so late, for it is well to two o'clock in the morning ?" " I have been a trysting." ' " So I guessed; but, young man, beware of the lusts of flesh, and the pride-of life, and-the allurements of Sathanas. .And who is that with thee ?" " A poor wretch whom I take to fish with me at times." " Let me look at thee closer, thou poorwretch, for a king's eye might hide itself under the shadow of a beggar's cowl." With this the trooper extended the point of his long sword, and catching the cap of Digby upon its end, raised it into the air. 'He then made him approach close to his stirrup, and looked keenly into his round, pug-nosed, bloated visage. "By the beard of Herod, thou art the prince of ale-pots, and must have too much dread of water to think of crossing it. Thou wilt never cross over to France and drink sour wine, while thou cast grow lusty on good ale in England. What is thy name, Sir Rubicund'?"nI " Digby-Datid, Digby, your highness," an- swered the gossip, with humility. "Thou shouldst be called Balaam," answered the trooper, who, at this moment,'seeing another person running down the street, left Digby and spurred towards him. " By my head, this fellow would as lief seat me unsodden, as he would a hare, Mtater Guil- ford. Didst mark his teeth?" Guilford, however, had taken the opportunity to walk on toward the gate'of his house, and he was about opening it, when he perceived two persons seated within it upon a little wooden settle, which, of an evening, was a common family resort. "It is Guilford !" exclaimedone of the per- sons, springing up on seeing'him. " What, Anne ?Up so late? It is near morning.". . "I know it, cousin, but-but-one could'not sleep with two soldiers within; and besides, they have my bed; and moreover, Ait{t Betsy bade me wait without and watch for your re- turn." "Guilford, you'do not know me here in the, shadow." " What, Robin ? Is it you?" "I have been keeping thy, cousin Anne cow- THE Y( pany, waiting for thee. I would not leave her and your mother alone during your absence, with two troopers in the house." " You are very kind, Robin. I know not how to thank you. But," he added, smiling, "I suppose you have not been without your sweet reward, from what I saw as I interrupted you."9 Robin colored, and Anne held down her head. "Not the least sign of jealousy does he show," she said to herself, with disappointment. "lHe does not tare for me, or love me as Robin does. I will never let him know I have loved him, since he is so cool and indifferent about it." " Where are these men, Robin !" asked Guil- ford. "One is asleep, with his head laid on the table; the other is stretched on the bed in boots and sword, and snoring away like a swine?' "So much the better. Where is my mother ?" " She is in the back room," said Anne; "But I have a-" " Have what?" asked Guilford, seeing her hesitate and draw back, after seeming about to make some important communication to him. "I forget.. Nothing." "You remain here with Anne, Robin, until I return,' said Guilford. " I wish to speak-a few words with my mother. 4iave then something I wish to say to you." "I will stay with Anne ithpleasure," an- swered Robin.. "Now, sweet Anne, what did I tell thee? Did I not say he loved thee.only as a cousin ? Thou seest he cared not a stiver for my being with thee so matny hours of .moon- light,.whereas, if he had loved thee, he would have-shown his jealousy; for beshrew me ! sup- pose I, loving thee as I do, should lba' come home late #t night and found thee up with'a young fellow, in a bower, his arm about thy ,waist, and thy hand in his; 'should I not have 45 taken fire, aid had a quarrel with thee on the spot? To lre. Love would act no other- wise. But, does thy cousin Guilford do? He thank for keeping thee company as quietly as thou wert his sist'br, acd now marches intotle house,.bidding me keep thee company a littlelonger. Does this look as if he loved thee, test thou?" " I am satisfies r Bne, robin," answered Anne with tears in her eyes.: "I see that he cares nothing for me." "Then why wilt thoulnt care for me ? I love thee with all my heart!, I will try and make thee happy. You will never fnd a truer heart than that I offer thee." "I will be thine, Robin. I know you love me. I will think no more of my cousin Guil- ford." At hearing this, the happy Robin caught the fair girl to his heart, and imprinted upon her lips the seal of betrothal. The kiss was strangely echoed, as it a person had thrust his finger into his cheek 9nd drawn it out quickly,-causing a popping sound. Both looked up and beheld Digby. "That's what I like to see,".he said. "Noth- ing like loving one another. Well, I'll fet the whole village knowof it to-morrow; qnd when you. are married you must invite Digby.' You can't have a.wedding without Digby. Nothing goes on right without'Digby. Where's Master Guilford gone, Miss Anne "¢; "In the house," answered the maiden, blush- ing and laughing. "0, you eavesdropper ! Come hither, Digby. If you will say.nothing about this, I will give you a silver sixpence nert Saturday night, to drink the prince's healthy" "Well, I wont, blame me if I do,"'anarered pigby, as he stretched himself upon one of the settles to sleep. I t page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] .4A CHAPTER XIII. AN INTERESTING COMMUNICATION. GUILFORD found the door of the cottage ajar, who, with a few scraps of the Old Testament and pushing it softly, he entered the small, on their lips, passed for pious covenanters, and plainly, furnished front room. A lamp filled under the cloak of religion, did all sorts of en- with fish-oil burned upon the table, with a huge ormities.R " thief" upon the wick. By its light he saw the "Let them sleep ; I have no wish to disturb two troopers. Upon a small truckle-bed in the them)" said Guilfor4,'assing on and opening corner lay one of them, sleeping off the pota- the inner door of other's room. "I have- tions of negus with which he and his comrade already placed one" their number in the sleep had been abundantly plied by-tbe good dame, that knows no waking." And with this recollec- who desired to get them in a state of quiescence tion of what he had done the evening before, as soon as possiblej-a result inwhich she had ad- came over his mind for the first time the thought mirably succeeded. Sleeping heavily, and with that he might possibly be recognized by some of a loud, sonorous breathing, the other trooper sat the party who had been nighest when he shot by the table, his head among the cups, and rest- the soldier, though it was moonlight and not ing on his thickly gloved hand. His black beard broad day, and no one came within twenty yards lay out upon the board like a mop, while the of him, save the horseman who was downed in light shone upon his round; closely shaven head, trying to swim his horse round the promontory. giving it the appearance of a porcupine rolled Upon hearing the door open, his mother looked up into a ball. By the side of his head lay his up from her needle, and seeing him, uttered an pistolet, the grasp of his hand holding it loosely exclamation of joy, and going towards him to in his sleep. The two men reminded Guilford meet him, made at the same time a gesture of of two wild beasts he had once seen crushed and silence and warning. 14 x reposing in a cage, . "I am so glad you have returned, my dear, Having surveyed the scene, he stepped across son," she said, as she led him t4pa seat. "Yon the threshold and passed lightly intothe room. have been gone full eight hours." He stood for an instant looking at the sallow " It has been an eventful eight hours to me, face of Strait-gate, who lay on the bed, and won- my dear mother.", dering that so wicked a countenance could have " I have been trembling lest you should have a .soul quiet enough to sleep. As for Broad- come into collision with Lora Rudolph, at the way, he saw in him one of those half devils, half castle. Did you see-the Lady Eate, my boy'?" high o common in Cromwell's army, "Yes, mother, and all is as I would desire. .1 THE I will tell" you by-andby, when we are alone. Those men in the other room must have an- noyed you not a little." " They did at first, but they soon drank them- selves to-insensibility. But where is Anne, that she did not come in with you ?" " She is at the gate with Robin." "Yes. He loves her, and I wish she could return his attachment. She had best come in, now you are at home ; but I sent her out, as the soldiers got to be something rude of speech to- wards her."A "They had best keep their tongues under civility," answered Guilford, "or I will show them that there are men in England besides Cromwell's myrmidons." " Hist, Guilford ! They will hear you. As it is, they do not suspect us of being opposed to the government. But listen to me; I have some- thing of moment to communicate to thee; and for this I have been so anxious to have thee come back." "But first hear what will please you, my dear mother. My interview with Lady Kate resulted in her refusal to permit me to cease to think of her, and it is decided that I am to seek my for- tune in the world, and some bright day come back to ask- her hand." "Ah, my boy, fortune is fickle. But the Lady Cathnrine shows a truly noble nature." *I have no doubt-that I shall be able to win some name that will make me less Qbscure, and more worthy to ask her hand of-her noble father. Would she wed me to-morrow, I am too proud to become her husband as I am--a poor young fisherman. I will win rank and name, and lay them-at her feet. Because she loves me in my humble state, shall I willingly consent that she shall wed 'o so lowly ? Shall I thus reward her generous love ?" "Thou art noble in mind, my boy," said his mother, "and deservest her." " Mother, thou hast heard of Red Hand ?" "0, Red Hand, the noted sea warrior, whose very name strikes such terror along the coast ! What of him, Guilford ?" "Dost thou know his history ?" "Nayd I do recollect that it is said-he was one of King Charles's nobles, and that, when he was to have been executed, he placed his hand be- neaththe axe instead Of his head, and with the other wrenched the weapon from the headsman's grasp, and with it cut his way to the water-side and escaped in a ship." N. 47 "This is ,r ly true." " I know Crpnwellhas a reward for his head, and therefore', " You fa y ,lust be a pirate." "I know i t- what he is. Men say he is greatly to be fe *e4 He has burned full a score of castles and toWi l 'the sea coast." " These were t .-places in which Crom- well's minions d laes, which, by flse hood and wrong, th hadXbbed loyal nobles. I have seen this sea king]zidspoken with him, mother." " Spoken with Red Hand " Yes; I have been on board hyvgesl, whipl to-night ,was not two leagues fonthe a opposite the village. He is a proper gentleman. He is the Earl of Villiers, a true-hearted noble- man, and friend of both the late king and Prince Charles." " Speak lower, for there are strange ears near us." "The two brutes are asleep, and I pray they may not wake till morning. Yes, motlier, Earl Villiers is a true English gentleman. He commands a ship because he cannot command a fleet. His wars are made only against the usurper. His ship is the only remnantAof the true British navy, and he the only British ad- miral, as Charles, the wanderer prince, is, the only British king. But these things will not always be so. In a few days I slball, if nothing more favorable turns up,, offer myself to,,,this -admiral of the Red Hand, and win fame wf4 r his flag." "If this terrible captain be a true earl, who only seeks the rights of his king, I do not say aught against this, Guilford, save that I shall be grieved to have thee leave my roof and my side., But mothers cannot always hope to have their boys with them; and I hope to see you yet dis- tinguish yourself." "You will not be 'alone, mother. Anne will remain, and if she marries Robin "- " Marries Robin? I wish she would, indeed." " There is little doubt of it from what I saw to-night. They are lovers, or lovers never were." " That is good news at last. I knew she need never look to feu." " Look to me, mother Who ?" "Anne. Bless me, how odd you have never seen it in her eyes. She has loved you better than cousin ought to love, Guilford." "I was not aware of it. But now9, oak page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] 4TH=' "O F IEIMAN. of it, I do recollect some things fhat make me think you are right. But-Rob ill make her far happier. They will mare f .'live with you, and you will hardly miss "} I will have my boat repaired to-morrow e it to you. Has there been any excitement'in the village to-night, early in the evening=hEave you heard anything about'any of the tnpers having been shot'?" " Surely I did. FPugenough was made about it. The troopers helx heard firing, and went out, and after a lon-time came back, and, swore dreadful oaths, and said some smugglers had shot three of the r party who were pursuing a loyalist. jThy made great talk of it in their cups, and swore dreadfully how they would on the morrow have vengeance."' " Smugglers they said, did they, mother'?" " I believe so ; but do not raise, your voice so loud; for I dare say we've been overheard in half we've said by the poor gentleman, if by chance he's awake." Here the good dame cast her eyes up at the trap in-the ceiling. "What poor gentleman? What do you mean, mother'?" "Hush! the troopers'll hear you, and then it's all up with him, be he peasant or prince, gentle or simple. There is a man hid up in the hemp loft !" she added, whispering close in his ear, and' then clapping her fingers across his mouth.- "Not a word. I fancy he is a loyalist. Don't speak, and I'll tell you all about it, for I want your advice to know what to do with him." "If he is a loyalist, I willaid him to the best of my ability, mother. But when and how did he come here?" '"That I will tell you. You see, after you went out, and had been gone a little while, the two soldiers came in and invited themselves to take up their quarters for the night. After eat- ing their supper and drinking, they got up and went out, as they said, to make a search'of the remises, to see what out-houses, boats, hid- inigplaces and such things, for concealing and escaping in we had." 4The prying devils !" "listi They had not gone out scarcely, be- fore I saw a face looking in upon me at that window. Before I could make out who it might be, the window was raised, and in stepped a stranger. He came so lightly to the floor, looked so be ly and suffering-like, and had al- together such an appearance of weariness and flight, that I at once felt my charity warm to- wards him kindly ; pnd knowing how many good men there are who are wanderers ih their own, or what is worse,/foreign lands, I bethought me this man might be one of them. The idea that he was a robber or a criminal never once en- tered my mind. He asked me in a voice that was courteous and respectful, if I would conceal him before the soldiers came back." "Then he knew they were quartered here'?" said Guilford, who had listened with the deepest interest to her words. y, "Yes; for he had plainly been watching their departure ; and, as they went out one way, he came in another way, as I told you. I'instantly closed this door, dropped the curtains, that no one might see into the room, and pointing to the ladder, told him to conceal himself at once in the loft. He obeyed at once, and having given him food and drink, I removed the ladder." "Have yon spolgen with him since?" "'Not a word. He is as quiet as the grave. I think he must be asleep; -for he looked ready to drop. Ygu should have seen what a white hand he had." " How old a man is he?" " About thirty; but he looked pale and hag, gard, and might notMave been so much." "How was he drs'ed?" . " In a sort of grayish black, plain and coarse, and much worn aid road soiled. His hair wa jet black, and so were his eyes; and his manners were those of a gentleman ; that I saw-at once." "I would like to know who he is, mother," said Guilford, who had listened to all, she had said with the liveliest attention. "He is without doubt one of the prince's friends, who are now hunted like wild beasts throughout the king- dom." " What if it should be the prince himself?" whispered thegood dame, with a wistful look. " It can hardly be; yet it is clear he is ex pected to seek the coast, and should he do so, he is likely to come pretty much as this stranger has presented himself to you. Whoever he is, he needs our protection, and his life may depend on our care and discretion." "What can be done'?" " That must be reflected upon, dear mother. It will not be safe for him to remain where he is. If a search of the house should take place, the loft will not escape their eyes. I must, how- ever, first see him and know what 'he would have." - - 48 . UILeORb's PLAN yOR ESCAPE. Tnres speaking, Guilford returned into the loyal friends as I find you and the good atie front room, where the two men still slept heavily are." as before, and in the same postures. He then These words were spoken in an under tone, looked out of the door, and seeing Robin and but with a' cadence that pleased Guilford's ear, Anne seated beneath' the arbor, quite oblivious, and attracted him at once to the stranger before apparently, of the passing time, he softly re- beholding his face. Asking his mother for a gained the room where ,his mother was, and light, he ascended with it, and bidding her re- bolted the door which led between the two apart- move the ladder, he closed the trap and stood ments. face to face with his guest. "Now, my dear mother, I want you to take a , The countenance he beheld was wholly nn- seat against this door, and if the soldiers either known to him, but answered to his mother's of them should wake and attempt to come in, description as that of a pale, harassed looking tell them that it is your private room, and they young cavalier of thirty, with black hair and, cannot be admitted. On no account suffer them eyes, and an intellectual expression. to enter; and if they force the door, I will shoot "Whosoever you may be,sir, you are a wel- them down. I am going to have an interview come guest beneath our humble roof," said Guil- with this stranger, whose misfortunes have driven ford. "What can I do for you'? for I presume him for shelter to our roof." you are one of the prince's friends." Thereupon Guilford replaced the ladder to its "Yes, my dear youngman, and I have sought usual place beneath the trap-door, and ascended the Sea-coast with the forlorn hope of obtaining it. He tapped lightly upon the ceiling, and was passage in some fishing-boat to the French coast. answered by another-rap equally low. But I find that the coast is vigilantly guarded, "Areyou asleep, sir ?" asked Guilford, and in this very house are quartered some of "No," answered the voice;, and the trap was Cromwell's troops,' cautiously raised. "I know you are come to "Yes, two drunken rogues, shaven like tnonks me as a friend, for I have overheard your con- and bearded like Turks, now'sleeping off their versation with your mother. I therefore let potations in the room below." - you up.without suspicion. I am inexpressibly "This would be a favorable time , elu4e thankful to find myself in the house of two such them if a boat could be had.pt a fisherman ?" CHAPTER XIV. page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] 50 T.. "Yes, sir cavalier, but my only boat was to- day, or rather yesterday, stoc*A and is not fit to push off." "I will give thee all the g4have, which is one hundred louis, to purch other fome." " Thou wilt need all thy ged, sir cavalier. I can obtain another boat ofaomrade, but"- "But what, my young friend ?" asked the stranger, who seemed tohanig on his words with nervous eagerness. " The difficulty is-to get off from the coast unseen. Thered;:sre not only troops placed in our houses, butthey are posted as sentries along the streets, id have the beach' in full view for miles. It would be almost impossible to get a boat off with any chance of success." . The stranger clasped his hands together with an expression of anguish. " So near liberty, and yet not to be able to obtain it !" "Does thy life pay the forfeit, sir, of thy cap= ture ?" asked Guilford, whose heart was deeply moved by his acute' distress. " Assuredly, my friend." - "And thou art a true friend of the prince ?" "Ie,has none near." " Then I will save thee if it be possible, by aiding thee to reach the French shore. But the prince, where is he? Hast thou any tidings'o him since he was seen last in Scotland ?"' "lEe still wanders. Like me he seeks to find shelter in France. Suppose I were the Prince Charles himself, what couldst thou do for me, ii I told thee I was really in thy hands ?" "I would save thee or perish!" answered Guilford; "and I will do all I can for one who loves him and suffers for him. Here it is no' safe for thee to remain till morning." "Young man," .said the stranger, "if thou savest me, the prince will not fail to rewar thee." " I ask no reward, sir cavalier, save success I will ere long return to you. I will go and se how I can best secure your safety." With these words Guilford took leave of hi guest, deeply interested in him, and opening th trap-door, dropped lightly to the floor. " Mother, he is a cavalier, and friend of th prince, and his life is-forfeit if he be taken. H brings no other news of Prince Charles that that he is a wanderer like himself. Now I mus get him out from here, and to the sea-side. have resolved to try aid get him across th FIs MAN. " You will risk your own life, my son." "Do not think of me, mother. I shall do nothing rashly. Give me thy brown long gown, and shawl, and hood." " Here they are. What wouldst thou with them ?" "To hand them up to our guest to put on." 'Guilford suited the action to the word, by rolling the articles in a bundle and passing them up to the fugitive. "Put these on, and wait till I knock thrice on the trap, and then come boldly down. Now, mother," he added, as the trap-door was once more closed, and the ladder carefully removed, "I want you to put on your other shawl and hood, and walk out with me." "Whither ?" "It matters not, dear mother. Do not ask me questions that I perhaps can't answer; but if you will kindly do as I say, we may save the young cavalier." "I will be guided by you in everything, my son," said she, putting onher shawl and hood. " That is right, mother. These barbarians of Cromwell's are still snoring. They sleep sound as moles." "I drugged their negus to make them sleep and keep them quiet," answered his mother. f " That accounts for it. It is the more favorable to us. Now take my arm and, come with me." The good dame placed her arm in his, and crossing noiselessly the room where the troopers f were, they went out by the gate of the cottage. Here they met with Robin and Anne, who hardly realized how the night they had so lovingly passed was wearing towards morning. They t both started consciously as they saw dame Gra- ham and Guilford. "You've come at last, Guilford," said Robin, I not knowing anything else to say. "Yes; and I warrant me you were not over . weary waiting for me. I want you, Robin." e " Anne, you had best go softly-in and remain in the back room; if the troopers should wake s up, you can bolt- the door." e " Let Anne wait here by the gate, mother. You will not be away five minutes. Robin, go e to your boat; place secretly three days' provis- e ions in it, and put off aa expeditiously-as:you n can, as if on a fishing cruise. Soon as you get 3t out half a mile, lower your sails and ,row back I in the direction of the beach, rock, landing be- e yond it on the castle side. There you will find nie to take me on board. Do not delay, and bea THE YOUNG discreet and cautious; for the least imprudence will create suspicion among the coast guard." Robin .signified his readiness to do as his friend Guilford had directed, and immediately left the cottage gate and walked towards his own cabin, a quarter of- a mile ,further east, along the shore-curved street of the little 'port. He was stopped by two troopers, who, satisfy- ing themselves that he was a fisherman, and not a prince in disguise, let him pass. the door of his own hut he found three of the gu rd seated drinking ale, and eating rolls and dried fish. He adroitly got them Into conversation upon the comparative speed of boats and horses, and drew them down to the cove, fifty paces off, where his own smack lay, and got them to ex- amining it, he the while descanting upon its speed. He then proposed to show them with what rapidity he could row it, saying: "As it is near day, it is time I should get ready to go out to fish; but first I will show you her mettle." He then went in for his oars, and at the same timefilled a bag with fish and bread, and took a beaker of fresh water with him. These he placed in-the boat before their eyes, trusting to their absence of all suspicion that he had any second purpose in view. At length, having got all prepared, he loosed his boat and got to his oars, and was about to row her out, when a fourth, in the uniform of a sergeant, came up and demanded what boat was putting off. "A fisher's lad going off to cruise the day in the channel catching fish," answered a trooper; "and he has bet a hundred mackerel that his boat, with two oars, can beat the best hunter in England." " He is a braggart," answered the sergeant. "Bdt who has been in the boat and seen that there is no Prince Charley hidden in the cuddle. By the beard of Cromwell, it would hide two men !" "No one has searched," answered one of the troopers. The boat was detained and the cuddie; care- fully examined, when, 'as nothing was , cov- ered like a refugee, and Robin being ele 'the only person on board, he was suffered to' put off. His bungling rowing to and fro, however, as he knew it would be, was laughed at by the sol- diets, and having acknowledged that his craft wag ti in trim, he hoisted sail, and told them thaiwhen he'had caught the hundred mackerel,, he would not fail to pay his bet. He was soon rapidlyfleavig the shore behind, and the forms of the soliers shon blended with the indistinct P ~ingMw. 51 objects on the land. When he had gained half a mile from* beach, he lowered his two sails,' and takg t;loars, pulled towards the point nearly a ni westerly, where Guilfdrd had promised to I A, nd. We now ret 'jto the young fisherman who was so generou ; about to attempt to save his guest from the of the -usurper. When Robin took leave 'to go on the mission we have 'seen him acco plish so successfully, Guilford, with his mojker waning on his arm, walked along the village strt in the direction which led towards the castle They soon came to two troopers, who were standing in the street acting as guards. The moonlight shone full upon them, and in one of them Guilfor4 recog. nized the soldier who had before challenged him. As the young man and his mother drew near, one of the men stepped across the way and presented his broad-sword. " What, pr y, is this, my fine couple !"' he said, with a augh. "This is y mother; and, as for me, I told you who I as some while ago," answered Guilford, fir . "Yes, Ifecollect thee now; but wemust see thy face. We must not let any nospass' us under cover. A woman's hood, before now, has hid a man's beard." Dame Graham put back her hood andshowed him a dignified, but pale, matronly face, that abashed his insolence. "Pardon us, ma'am; but we 'must be strict." "Can we pass on ?" asked Guilford. "Whither ?" " To the castle. There is a sick person there who suffers, and your orders are not go strict as to prevent passing to and fro on the land." "No ; it is the sea we are to watch." Guilford then went on a few steps, ansd when beyond ear-shot, he said quickly to his mother: "Pretend that thou hast forgotten the lint, and go back as for it ; but instead of coming back thyself, send the guest, telling him I wait' here, and that he must join me and take my arm without a word, in your place. They will not a second time lift the veil." "I now understand all," said his mother. "Sir soldier, my mother would return a mo- ment to the house for something," he said, re- turning sere the two men stood. "Be quick, dear mother, and I will remain talking..with these brave soldiers." The good dame hastened towards house, leaving Guilford with the troopers. ii page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] 4, CHAPTER XV. SUoCESS O: G UIL1ORDs MANORtnE. f Thtotr art a tall youth to be under thy moth- er's eye still, young man," said the trooper who M4 been chief spokesman. " Fishing must be fool's pastime for a brave spirit as thine should. be by thine eye. Why wilt thou not enlist in the troop, and follow the fortunes of a soldier ?" "My mother has only me, and if I should fall in battle she would be desolate." "We should be better weaned than to think of mothers when our beards are grown, young fallow. A man's mother is his country, and he rightly obeys her when he takes up arms to deh fand her against tyrahny." A pause. "Come to the inn in the morn, where our captain is, and thou shalt put thy name down and be paid two gold nobles, and the horse and armor of the' man who was shot early to-night by one of the smugglers, shall be thine." " I will see thy captain, it may be, and think of thia, I would rather have a wider field than this to act may part in."-'- Ay, that thou oughtest, man. To-morrow we are going on a fancy party to ferret out these. smugglers or what not that rescued-the loyalist last night, and shot that 'lion of the desert,' evetg the brave trooper 'Despise not Prophesy- ) 3 "What loyalists"e- "T is not. known for certain. That he was one is clear, for he refused to drink to Oliver's health; and he fought-like a tiger when he was set upon, and ran like a dromedary when he could fight no longer against odds. We would have had him had he not been rescued by a party of smugglers, as some say they were, who got him off safe. Our captain swears he was the famed Red Hand, the channel cruiser, because his right hand was missing. But, for, my part, the blood of one royalist is as red as that of another." "Dost thou expect to find smugglers on the coast to-morrow ?" asked Guilford, whose eyes were anxiously turned towards the gate of the cottage, " That maybe as it turns out. A little brush with the rogue and a good deal of booty would enliven these dull times." At this moment Guilford's eyes were glad- de -%by the sight of a female figure clad like other , issuing from the cottage gate. IHe ki at a glance that it was not she, and his heart bounded with hope and fear in contemp- lating the advance of the disguised royalist. The walk was wholly unlike that of his mother, and by no means as graceful; but he huppd the. soldiers, who had never seen her but once, would not mark the difference. "ood night, gentlemen ; I see my mother a ,- - ,m S ,x .; . .w I1 4 V THEE YOUNG FISHERMAN. 55 ' 'has got what she went after, and isreturning," said Guilford, walking forward to meet the dis- guised guest. I "You will not forget the gold nobles and to see the captain at the inn ?" called one of the soldiers. "No.. I hope to meet you there also." - By this time he met the loyalist, and taking his'arm beneath his own, whispered: ",Walk more softly, and keep hooded. There is no, danger if you do not speak." It Was a thrilling moment when Guilford came up again to. the two men in order to pass them., lie was, however, perfectly cool and self-possessed. , "We must stop again, mother, for doubtless these brave soldiers will have to make thee show thy face asecond time, to see that no;beard hath grown on it within the last five minutes.",- " Nay, young fellow, thou and thy mother may pass, when thou wilt," answered the nearest sol- dier, laughingly. " When' thou gettest to be a trooper, thou wilt then learn to obey orders." "I blame thee not, sir trooper," answered Guilfordl; as he walked on slowlyin order to keep,.at feminine moderation the tendency'of his -companion _to make rapid, strides of it along. At every yard whibh separated him from- the two soldiers his-heart beat lighter and his breath drew freer. At length, after walking on about five minutes,:andwhen he could scarcely distinguish .the formspf the two;men from:the black posts to which the, fishermen secured their boats, he said, in a tone of joy: Now, sir cavalier, you may speak. We are' safe, at least for the present. , You can look out of thy hood.".. , . The;cavalier whom -dame Graham had so fromptly-and kilfully put in her own place, then;threw partly back-r hood, and looked around him, but not' before pressing the young fisherman's hand inboth of his, and saying :" ",haypa reward-thee ! Thou hast done this well and faithfully, and with remarkable courage. 1 was;never in more imminent peril of capt ge ; and yet, under thy managing guidance, widgo, littlegreasp to fear. What lofty castle is this ?" he asked,:'as his eye fell;upon the elevated towers and, battlements' of"Castle. Vane, beneath the, shadowfof whch he ,W4s walking. " Well do I know the family. Never was a more lgyal subject than Lord Vane. But rumor - says hin spnise Cromwell's tool." ' " Yes, so I have heard," answered Guilford, whose glances were continually scantlning the water, searching:for Robin's little bark, which r yet did not appeariih sight. The cavalier alsifturned his eyes wistfully on the sparkling wave ,and paused to contemplate- them for a moment. " 0, road to liberty yet a more insurmount- able walk than if thou wert built of adamant, high as heaven!" "Do not stop; my lord. We must still hasten forward; for though the last guard of troopers ijss been passed in this direction, yet our'strata- gem may be detected, and pursuit made." " I need no inducements to nove on, my true and faithful deliverer," answered the ro list ; "but I am something wearied, having walked for many days, and laid abroad of nights, and h4d little food." " I pity thy distresses, sir., "I hope fortune will one day enable me to reward' you," answered the. stranger, with a grateful tremor in his tones. "But Ianst solicit- ous lest, harm should happen'to thy tiother for the part she has.taken." " No ; it was known to no one'that-you Were in the house; and I instructed her not te suffer herself to be seen until.after' sunrise, lest indeed, by chance, the two troopers should question her how she got back unseen, and so place heroin a dangerous position."' " That was judicious and thoughtful in you. I will therefore not suffer' my fears to. be awak. ened about her. But when I know that upon wvhomsoever aids me I am bringing danger, "I sometimes feel like giving myself up to :my fate before'l will involve anymdre /kind and noble hearts in assisting me to escape. We have here. a barrier ! How shall we surmount it I", he suddenly demanded, upon finding the beach ter- minate. "Here is a boat, my lor," said Guilford, who gave the stranger this title of respect, judging from his manner; and that he was a partizan of the prince, that he must be noble ; "we will en- ter it and row around it." ' Upon their reaching the other side Guilford with an exclamation of .pleasure, pointed sea- ward. ''' "A boat!1 0, that I were so happy ag'to be on board of it, with its head pointed tow ' France "' was the ,exclamation of the wan y with clasped hands.- "I think it is the boat L ordered to rad' page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] 54' TIM rou~ro sRa and meet us here," answered Guilford. " When it gets a little nearer I can tell.". "And you have perfected your plan so far as to 'provide a boat ! Ah, this t more than I hoped. When I saw this elif, I believed you were seeking some secret cavar wherein to con- ceal me ; and my heart was heavy with the thought of more delay,.nd confinement and anxiety before I should kiss the blessed sands df France !" " It is Robini's boat. .I know it now by the white tops to its masts." "And is Robin's boat that you sent for to em-. bark us in ?" " Yes, my lord. Robin is a youth, and sup- ports himself by fishing. He is my truest friend, and can be trusted." " I know it, if he is thy friend. It seems a brave, strong boat, with sails." "It has crossed the channel in the wildest weather, my lord." " Then my hour of safety seems to have come at last. This little skiff, which holds but two, and scarce floats for leaking," he added, pointing to the small boat in which they had paddled round the rock; "this I would have ventured in, rather than not have attempted it. To die ex- erting one's self for liberty, is better than to live as I have lived the past fifty days. 0, young man, you know little of the sufferings I have en- dured. But the sight of this bounding bark makes me forget all!" "I trust, my lord, that- before noon you will be safe where you wish to be." "Thanks, thanks, my friend. I pray that if this blessing be granted me, it be given soon to the-poor friends and wanderers I leave still be- hind." " Thou meanest the prince, and the four or five nobles who hold to him." " They did hold to him till they were com- pelled, for his safety to leave him, and each seek a different route to the coast." "If, after I safely place thee in France, I can return unsuspected, my lord, I will do all in my power to get the rest over. In particular would I be happy to be the instrument of saving the prince." "And wherefore in particulur, my young friend '" asked the noble, who was seated on a rik, watching thoT advancing fishing boat. " Frankly, my lord, I will tell thee. Thou didst o ear my conversation with my mother, and -n 'iot be told that I love a high-born maiden-even the daughter of the lord of this castle." " And I would swear thou art worthy of her." " I am too proud to offer her a fisherman for a husband. If I could aid the prince, perhaps he would take me into his service." " But he is poor, and has nor men nor arms,. coffers nor coin, young man." "He will one day, I am confident, sit on the throne of his martyred father. He is too deeply seated in the hearts of the English people to re- main long out of the seat of the kingdom." "By the roodI thou speakestlike a prophetI" ,exclaimed the noble, starting to his 'feet, and gazing with admiration upon the young man. " I pray that thy words may come true. And if the prince come to his own, thou shalt not be forgotten. He who has served one of his friends serves him. I will take care that thy good ser- vice to me this night shall not be forgotten. Would that England had ten thousand young men with hearts and hands as loyal as thine." At this crisis the little bark drew so close that Guilford recognized Robin, who, shipping his oars, steered the boat with what impetus his row- ing had given it, directly alongside the rock. "Thou hast well done, Robin, and in good time; for I see the dawn is breaking. Now, my lord, step into the boat, and the next land thy foot touches shall be that of France."- " Amen, my friend," answered the noble, as he leaped into the boat and stood in the stern. "Farewell, poor England1 One of these days thou wilt take to thy bosom gladly the children that thou now drivest from thee." Guilford saw that tears came into his eyes, and this emotion endeared him still more to him for he saw that he possessed all the sensibilities that became a man. He now assisted Robin in hoisting the sails, foithere was a six knot breeze from the northwest, and taking the helm, while Robin was entrusted with the charge of trimming the canvas, he steered away from/the castle rock and lay his course at first south by- west, in order to Ijeep from being seen from the village when they should clear the rock. When they had got out about ffty yatds, and were sailirig along smoothly, the nobleman *as seen by Guilford to sink upon his knees and re- main some -minutes in prayer. Herthen rose, and embracing his deliverer, he called Robin and said- "Let me take thee by the hand. I owe thee much also, and must owe thee more before I THE YOUNG reach France. I am told thou art the friend of this brave young man." "I love Guilford as a brother," answered Robin, with honest warmth. Suddenly a voice called to them from the shore-an eager but suppressed voice, its tones being doubtful and yet thrilling, as if fear and hope impelled the speaker. " The boat ! Art thou fishermen ?" "Yes," answered Guilford, as he discerned the figures of two men in the mouth of a sort of gorge that was at the westward of the castle rock. " Come to the shore and take us on board, and we will pay thee well." "I fear that it is a lure," said Guilford. "I think I recognize the voice," said the stranger. "Hold ! Let me speak." " Nay, niy lord, you may betray yourself. I will hail them. Who are, you, and where do you wish to go ?" - "Land, and we will tell thee," answered another voice. "I know them !" cried the stranger to Guil- ford, in earnest excitement, laying his hand on his shoulder. ",They are two of the prince's friends. Will you take them '" "Willingly. Think you the prince is one of them V' "IWe may hear from him through them, my young friend. Steer at once towhere they stand, FISHERMAN. 55 for delay may be fatal to them with so many enemies about." Guilford at once ran the smack to the little cove in the land where the two men stood. On coming near he saw from their torn apparel and .haggard air that they were fugitives. They were so impatient to quit the land, that the boat had hardly touched the rock before they both sprang on board. " Take us across to France, and we will repay you well, for we have gold," they said, talking like men who had life at stake. The stranger, who still wore the female dress, and who had purposely concealed himself behind the sail, was now seen by them. They stared at him, and then took their seats, as if too weary to stand. They then looked earnestly at Robin and Guilford. " You are fishermen, then ?" said the eldest of the two, inquiringly. "Yes, sir." " Will you take us over to Normandy '" "It is !a dangerous trip, sirs, but as I amn over, you shall have passage." " How fortunate. We will give you gold." " I am well paid, gentlemen." "But willyou take this woman over V" "Yes," answered uilford ; snd would bare) added, "she is a fugitive disguised also," but for a pressuA upon the arm by the stranger,-as a hint from him to keep his secret. 64 r i , , i * ' r{G .Y " " K+ i' page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] CHA PTER XV I } c r '~W HNO tHE rUoivit '1t 'G'VP. Wz now see our youthful hero, Guilford, "I knew, my lord," said Guilford, "that' once ir setting sail for'the French side of the fugitive friends of the prince were expectedon channI, 'with thrie royalists. It has been an the coast, ii. short time, and knew you to be e nn liwahty4our hours tolnt, and has done of them." nioresto develop his true character than llthe "Yes, doubtless, =for e carry our'fortunes'in previous events of his life. All at once he felt our rags and visages. But it is surprisig and that he had merged from the obscure and hum- providential that we should have found aboat so ble village fisher, to be a person of no little con- soon, and one that would receive us. 0, that the sideration, if he was to be judged by the part he prince could be as fortunate." - had played. But he was not elated. He secretly " Hast thou heard of any royalist escaping in hoped that this turn in the tide of his affairs a boat within a day or two ?" asked the younger was to lead him on to fortune. cavalier, who was a fair young man, with a blue When the smack, which Robin had named the eye and a Scottish physiognomy. 'Pretty Anne," had got out a mile, the day had " There was a brave man escaped yesterday begun to brighten up so clearly in the east that from the village after eat peril. It was at sun- the moonlight paled before it. Soon the light set or a little after." of the broad morning filled the air, and when " Ah,;it must have been the prince," exclaim- they were a league from the land the -sun rose in ed the elder ; " for he must have reached the dazzling splendor out of the waters. Cheerful- coast about that time." ness sat upon the haggard faces of the two fugi- "No, it was the Earl Villiers, whom they call tives as they saw receding the shores of England, Red Hand," answered Guilford. and the distinct blue line of France grow more " The Earl Villiers !" exclaimed theistrangOr distinct. in a tone that, coming from the woman's hood, "Young man," said one of them, whose beard made the two cavaliers start with surprise, and and'locks'were mingled with gray, "you will be stare with doubt both at Guilford and his dis- remembered by us to the latest hour of our lives. guised passenger. We must take your names, that our friends may " We are betrayed 1" cried the young Scot, know them, and love the two fisher's lads who with a flashing eye, as he drew a long, glittering aided us to escape from death to safety." knife. T : IrOUNG' ISIE1AMAN. .. t. r t i . v "There is no treason here," said Guilford. " This person is also a'fugitivein disguise, whoi I was taking over whei you hailed' me. "fhj wishes to conceal himself from you , enhit jre- vent it. But I trust'jou arewell knwn to each other." " There needs no more disguise or conieel. ment, my friends, all," exclaimed'the straliget throwing back his hood, and extending a hand to each of the fugitivess'' 'Algerno',*elhmie! Catesby, I embrace you again !" "My prince !"'criedthe' elderly dble,'kneel- ing and kissing the hand extended to hinwhile Catesby pressed his knees'and bathed hUs hands with-tears of joy. " Heaven be praised! Once more 'we meet, and in safety !" "I would have madd myself known to ro, my trusty friends, but I wished to defer ithtillasdi ing, that I might then'take' my young friesilby surprise, and let him know that' he had indeed saved Prince Charles ! This is a happy nineting for us after all our sufferings together'". " Too much joy ! too much joy!' That we should find thee in the very boat In whicitwe have taken shelter. This ddy Crohiwell's hatred has forever lost its victini." Guilford had witnessed this 'revelation of the ptince to his partners in dangers nVfii it, with amazement. He stood beholding him without power to utter a word. A half formed idea that all his hopes were now in the budding, and that Lady Kate would yet be his, danced bewilder- ingly through his mind. Robin stood with open mouth, in wonder and delight. "Nay;my friends," said Prince Charles, " you must not be shut out from being partakers of all this joy. You have, you find, had your wish gratified, and have 'the prince' in your boat." "Ana I will save thee or die, my prince !" exclaimed Guilford, kneeling and kissing his hand. " Tsis is the happiest and proudest mo- ment of my life." Robin also came forward and saluted the ex- cited monarch, and all was joy and intense ex- citement. While the little vessel with its precious freight was dancing on its way, Guilford directed Robin to bring up the 'provisions from the cuddie, and the prince and his two lords made a royal feast of it, with such appetites as long fasting invariably lends to both king and peasant. The sun was an hour high when they had all got through their morning's repast, and then I Guilford urged the prince to take ide posee in oie of the' be-ths irtlia srdall c~binu'' "'his is well pijposet, mif ydnriie &, he said ; " fair I lac dliaa' litf6 tibepfi the week past." Lea Inthe 'helm°in{ch trgo 'o bini; Guil- ford went' into llhe u'ddid'add Aff5dif'Wseell as he could the cot of di sie-'d' fr'lir pirice, find' when hei re h i n916 tby its roughness, the'later sidfsherfidfly' 0 ' ' "Do not say one-word, yin dehr 'Gilford fo' I have learnedto sleeias hard'a'tilW 'oku of ny subjects. T am used to "rough Tre and rough lodgings. 5utikdep dtwatch, acid do not let any large resselhre e'tbonedr Cs. me if any war-Ship is;e eh in lfyquarter.'! 'Guilford; having sebin Prihice' Charles li d'wn to rest, retuinedtb the d'ek. -'lietes'"bfthz two e*iles beamed iron' h~i Agi-h8t siniles'as h e'iappiasfA. o w m " You are the 'happiesr'and izistto6bfvdt Englishman that this day lives;'yiignri ii;" said Lord' Algernon, siilig ; 1' for fah hve under your charge the ; prince on whos'"f t depends the Tate'df Esi laridP' "I am'happier than I can' presss" aridAeri Guilford, resuming 'the heird, whild&lh h aro order to Robin'to trim the'shtets!" " 'A 4 e* now a full third of the arAuseliedtr my lords," he aNdded; "*il 9fb Nt part of the French coast the prince would likO to be landed upon ?" " To the east of Cape de la Hague, and as near the Cherbourg landing as may be," an- swered the Scottish lord. "We have friends there in waiting for many weeks." " The wind is not exactly fair for making Cherbourg," answered Guilford, looking at the sails and then at the sky; " but by tacking and running west by north four or-five miles, we can then go about and make it towards night." " Is there no danger that we shall be interfered with by the channel ships of war that are hover- ing on the coast to watch against the prince's escape ?" asked the grey-bearded earl, with some solicitude, as he cast his eyes about him and saw four or five sail of vessels at various distances, some of them between them and the distant line of the coast of France, and one directly stern, as if in chase. " Are there ships cruising on the watch, my lords ?" asked Guilford, changing color. " I did not imagine danger save from the coast guard on shore." page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] 58 THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. " There is great danger yet," answered both j by ; "for in the highlands the shepherds on the noblemen. " An order has been sent to all the hills can often tell men of different clans at a captains of the vessels of war to be vigilant in distance long before they can distinguish the bringing to and examining every boat that plaid of their tartans. What vessel is that to - crosses the channel." the west I It looks large, like an armed ship." "I did; not know of this," answered Guilford. "It is a ship of war of large size," answered He then stood up in the stern of the fishing Guilford ; "but she is standing northward, and vessel, which being but five tons burthen, did not, is bound into Portsmouth. She will hardly elevate him but three or four feet above the level trouble us." of the sea, and with a keen nautical eye scanned " Then this vessel at the east, which seems to carefully the encircling horizon, commencing be standing directly down to us ?" north and returning to the same point. " That I am more doubtful about. She is too " What do you make out these vessels to be ?" far off to be well made out, and as her masts asked Lord Algernon Dudley, the old noble, range in a line, I can't tell whether she is a ship trusting to the skill of the young sailor in mat- or brig. But from the squareness of her yards ters of which he himself had little experience, and the way she settles in the water, I am afraid " The vessel astern, my lords, is a ship, that she is an armed cruiser." has just come out of Portsmouth. I saw her an At these words the two nobles looked very hour ago,.between the Isle of Wight and the naturally anxious, and watched her, with close main, standing down. She is a Norwegian tra- attention. There were two other vessels visible der by the shortness of her yards and square in the far south-western board, but at too re- make of her bows." mote a distance to be made anything of, save "You observe closely," said the young Scot- that Guilford was positive they were large, three tish lord, , masted vessels. " Yes ; we fishermen, passing our lives-on the The wind was blowing a five knot breeze, channel, and accustomed to the sight of vessels from W. S. W., and the little vessel, kept close- of all nations, soon discern the difference be. hauled, went steadily on her way, steering as tween, those of one country and another, and near as possible for the, Cape of the Hague, now are able to tell them a long ways off." forty miles distant, in a south by west direction. "Yes, I can understand it," said Lord Cates. 4 r 1 CHAPTER XVii. A DESPERATE STRATAGEM FOILED. LEAVING the little fishing smack, which held the destinies of England, to dance along over the waves of the channel on its way to the coast of Normandy, we will follow the adventures of another one of the characters of our story. When Red Hand the earl had regained his own ship, and, after the severe execution of the sentence upon Lord Rudolph, had dismissed the yacht, he gave orders to his lieutenant in com- mand to steer westward until sunrise, an4 then' call him. "I have not had one hour's sleep since I left London," he added to the officer, " and I must have a little rest." Ue then went'to his state-room, where he found Edward, the useful and handsome officer AV ready introduced to the reader, engaged incopy- ing papers. Upon the entrance of the earl, the youth looked up and fixed upon the earl his large dark eye, which had as much light in it as a woman's, avid said: " My lord, I know not how to contain my joy at your safe return once.moreto the ship, know- ing, as I alone did, the perilous errand on which you went." "I had a narrow escape of -it more than once, Edward," answered the earl, throwing himself upon a cushioned settee. " And 'what success, my lord ?" asked the youth, in a tone that slightly hesitated, as if he feared he ventured too far to make so open an inquiry. " Cromwell's -head is still on his shoulders, and he is free to ride on England's neck till a more lucky day for us. Would you like to hear the particulars V" "Yesj my lord ; I will first copy these two re maining lines of the letter you have written to the Duke of Orleans, to be'left at Cherbourg." The youthful secretary then busied himself a minute till he had completed the task allotted to him, and then placing his pen, by hit side on the polished Bragiban table, placed himself in an attitude of listening. This young man, whose beauty, as we have said, was almost feminine, was about twenty years of age, slight in figure, but tall, and gracefully made. A brown mous- tache was just beginning to darkenhis well cat upper lip, and his rich and shining brown locks curled short about his circular and snow-white neck. His brows were also brown or hazel col- ored, like his hair, and exquisitly arched over a pair of large, well expanded eyes of the clearest gray. Hisnose was 'erian, straight, and with thin nostrils-generally a mark of high birth. When he spoke, rows of even teeth, as dewy and translucent as pearl, were visible. His hands were, as symmetrical as nature could :hae * page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] ETi YOUNG PISRERMAN.81 moulded them, and his whole air and tone were striking and distinguished. There was an ex- pression of sadness upon his face that seemed to be abiding, and to derive itself from a source deeply hidden in the heart. With all his beauty, there was a total absence of consciousness of it, and with all his womanly elegance there was no lack of the proud and manly bearing of his sex. Between him and the earl there appeared to ex- ist a friendship equal and confidential, and which seemed to take no count of the difference in their years. The attire of the young secretary was a suit of black velvet, with here and there a plain gold button, and a silver hilted sword, worn in a polished Arabian belt at his side. "The night on which I landed at Hastings," said Red Hand, " twenty days ago to-day, I found the three men ready with horses to take me to London. I was nearly two days reaching the city, not wishing to ride too fast, lest I should draw attention. I wore my disguise as a Puritan conventicle preacher, and had much honor paid me at several times, by Cromwell's people. At length, safe in London, I put up at the house in the Strand where Lord Layton and Germain were lodged. They received me warmly, and asked where. I had landed and where left my ship. I told them that I had left my vessel off Hastings, but that, by my orders, she was to-run to the coast of France and hover about Germany until the twentieth, when she was to stand over the Sussex side and wait my orders, or take me on board, as you have done this night." " Youhave read the report of our cruise, my lord; during your three weeks' absence ?" ob-' served the young lieutenant. "Yes, I have looked it over, and find you have had too many handsome fights with Cromwell's vessels; but one of these I heard of before I left London, and I assure you it made me proud of iny'gallant friends 'on board, and my noble ves- sel. 'One would have thought, by the way the Londoners talked about your sinking the par- liament ship Nestor, that I had been a Moorish buccaneer and;lived by pirating en the world., But Crom-well ouli have, all true 'loyalists branded'as' pirates and robbers. Thereare no holestaba in 'igland now-a-days, but those who :hdve Feropped-drowns and -pray by the league. Bt-to my 'story. After Ithad been a week in London we had All our plans laid. Un- der t'he disguise of a coal' heater, I had more than once stood within ten feet of Cromowell, as he passed through the palace yard, where I was heaving coal, having managed to get employed there for this purpose. Under the disguise of a baker, I entered the palace, and, as a postman, I placed letters in his very hand. All these opportunities I sought to see him and learn his habits and hours, that we might know what day and hour to fix upon our plan for carrying him off. At length I discovered that every Tuesday and Saturday it was his custom to embark on the Thames to sail up to - palace, there to be present -at a council which he had convoked for the purpose of settling upon a new code of justice for the commonwealth, it being his inten- tion to adopt the Justinian code, if possible, over the common law. We resolved that we would have everything ready to lay hands upon him when he should return, from one of these excur- sions, which we ascertained would be towards twilight. "I had already obtained a swift barge with two masts and eight oars, and had placed over her a deck that would conceal twelve men. This barge we had placed under a warehouse that belonged to a trusty loyalist. The eight oars- men were selected by me from a scoie of the young nobles who'are living in London in'dis- guise and poverty, ready' to enter' upon any en- terprise that may bring back the king; byderoy- ing the usurper. The twelve aien concealed in the' deck were' all 'born lords and-barons;half Scotch and half English." "(Each equally anxious to share the perilid the glory !" "X es. At length the afternoon, four, days ago, arrived. One by one, by different' routes, the lords and gentlemen reached the rendezvous, entered the boat and concealed themselves, with arms in their hands, under the deck. I was the last person there, and went accompanied by'the French lieutenant, whose ship was waiting' off. the mouth of the Thames 'to' receive ns .At four o'clock: Isaw the protector embark in'his' state barge, rowed by twelve rten. Ht;sat jh the stern, surrounded by six or seven of his ce i, for he holds court and carries statg like a crowned king. In the bow were eight'soldiers of his-bdy guard, armed with harquebuses. At abotithslf an hour before sundown I saw his barge -half' mile off, descending the river. It was returning earlier'than we expected, but on consulting with the lords, we decided to attack it in open sun- shine, and trust to the swiftness ofdur barge to escape down the river 'with our prize." "It was a very bold enterprise,'my lord." " One mtst do a, bold thing who would at- tempt to make 'Cromwell--prisoner. Standing: -upon the pier, I watched the descending barge': until it had come nearly opposite our lurking place, when, lowering myself into my boat, I said: ""My friends, now is our 'time! -'Oars, all give way and launch out into the' river.' "IThe next moment we shot out from beneath the arch of the old pier, and steered with foam- ing bow and leaping oars straight for' the state galley. The helmsman of it, seeing us about to cross' his bows,:'hailed us and ordered me to back the oars! 'But not heeding him, I directed my 'boat's hdws'obliquely, so as'to'strike the barge about half way between her beam and cutWater. The shock, as I ground along her sides, mowing down the whdle bank:of oars, was so great as to stave in the bows of the galley and break'the' forward :knees of 'my own boat.1 "To arms aind board'!'I shouted, in a voice of thunder. ' " The next moment my deck was alive with armed risen,' who leaped into 'the galley and swept her forecstle.- Sword in hand, I pressed aft, with lords McDonald and McFergus, to where Crotawellistod,;calling upon his soldiers to rally and fire upo us. Elsidwn s cord was in 'his hand, andiss I 'approached; he threw him- self into an attitude of a lion at bay. ""You are in' prisonerr, Oliver Cromwelll' said I; leaping'toWards 'him 'Give' up-your sword !' t . "'He who would have my sword must take it !' he answered, with a firmness that made' me respect the man's bravery. 'Idid not wait a second time to be invited, but{droSsing 'blades with him, was on the eve of - getting ihe' ilsastery, for I once had his sword en- tangled in the folds'of any coat, when his friends, recovering from their panic, fought in his .de- fence likegood fellows, and his harquebuses did such good'service, that wa wre finally-compelled to retreat to our own boat, 'half of us wounded, and abandon the enterprise upon which tonihili time and talent had been ex'pendedI . lsliould have rallied my Ipartf andree'wed the attack, but for the-sight of' threelbarges of tto' which I saw pulling to the' protector's 'aid; from 'the shore' Sowe got off ald'nade the best oftour way down the river, chased'by two-of the'barges. We should inevitably have been taken, if night soon coming on'had-nOt'befriended "us. 'Under cover of it we mingled among the numerouss boats plying up and cown-the river, and landing on the south side of the Thames, about'four miles below London, we found oir=way-to an Inn, kept by-aii old king's' mi,whob ,gao "s cheer and lodging, and bound up the wounds of those who had been hurt. Here I remained 'In- til the next night, when, hearing that Prince Charles had certainly been seen in Mid England, making his way.in disguise towards the Sussex coast, I resolved to regain my vessel aid watch to givehim succor. Leaving nay poor lordadis- comfited but not-in despair, and with a second plot fairly hatched out.before I lft' the Inn, I took my way across the country on' fdot,'for: I had learned from our host that our daring, open attack upon Cromwell, had filled'all , dodd with, amazement, and that the protectorL hrld given strict orders to guard all the roads, and look out especially for the outlaw Red Hand,"the pirate earl." "He knew you then,'niy lord ?"! "He had reason to know me well. Besides; I shouted my war cry, ' A Villiers I A Villiers4' as we charged him on his barge, Ihad;thdre- fore, to be very' cautious in crossing frbant, n- don to the coast,Iand travelled chietyilathd night ; and when by day I walked,'I.keptiofthe hills, far away from the roads', 'At'lingtli, last night I reached 'the-little fishing'port of:Brithelst mane, and famished and 'thirsty, and ,deeming myself out of reach of all dangeriin:that obscure places I entered the inn to refresh'xmyself 'But as I have told you, a swarm of, Cromwel1's'lo' custs soon came in, and Ihad to-make my escape the best way I could. To young :Guilford Gra ham I owe my life and present security,and if it is ever in my power to.serve him,:may Ilosd my other hand if I forget to do it." " What an unfortunate result, my lord, of ydur well-planned scheme to take the unrper,"ahid Edward Percy. " If you had succeeded, Prined Charles, instead of: flying'from England; would have entered London in triumph." " Yes; but we will bideour time.: The young king will yet git inshis father's throne. Ofthia I feel as -sure as if it had been made known tk me by a revelation from heaven." "My lord, I feel-soo There seems to. be a+ seventh'sense in us; which scholars do not takes note of in their philosophies. It is that sense of being assured that a 'certain thing yet inffature will come to' pass."= " r-, , " .understand you. It is so." A' r 60 THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. l t s page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] THE YOUNG " When the noble marquis, my father, was led to the scaffold, I had a feeling that he would not- be executed then; and after he was remanded to prison and had his second trial, Ithen felt allthe dread certainty that he would die. The result verified my sensations." " The same feeling which you describe I have experienced. Even now I cart say with acer- tainty as positive as if Iwereinspired, that Prince Charles will not fall into the hands of his foes, but ere long reach France in safety. Nay, I have a presentiment that it will not be long ere you and I shall behold him in security." " I earnestly pray, my lord, that your wishes may be fully realized." "You mean that my eighth sense may not deceive-me," responded the earl, laughing. "But my dear Edward, I have a rare romance to tell thee." " Ah, my lord !" " Yes. This young Guilford Graham, with his handsome face and fine eyes, has captivated no less a personage than the fair Lady Catharine Vane." " Impossible, my lord." "Nothing more true, Edward. And as to its being impossible, there is nothing more possible, when two young hearts come together and are found to be of kindred mould. How he man- aged first to win her heart, is to me a mystery ; but as he lives at the foot-of Castle Vane, I doubt not they have been thrown together in some way very naturally, and what with his rev- erence for her rank and respectful homage, and her admiration of his person, and perhaps grati- tude for rustic civilities, they got to losing their hearts to each other. But be that as it may, they are lovers, and she loves quite as enthusiastically as he does." " I like the young man-I am grateful to him -I respect his courage-but for him to aspire to-" " Tat, tut, my dear Edwardi The days of chivalry are filled with such real romances of life. A humble lover and high-born maiden are the theme and and burden of half the ballads." " That is true. But-" "I have however, something to add that will make youlike the young man's honor. It would seem he has lately awakened to the practical view of his romantic attachment, and last night he was on the way to see the lady to release her fromall love vows, and tell her that he felt that they never could be united, holding such opposite FISHERMAN. positions in society. It was on thiserrand he saw me beset and gave me such good aid. And, oddly enough, on board my ship he finds the Lady Catharine.. They had an interview, which I chanced to overhear, which resulted in a refu- sal on her part to listen, like a noble girl as she is, to any such sacrifice of his happiness on his part, and to her consenting to wait for him until he shall achieve a name and fame that will give him some pretensions to sue for her hand." "And this compact stands ?" " Yes. And be assured that we shall yet hear of this young man in some honorable and daring exploit. He has it in him, and he has a prize to win that will nerve his arm and carry him to his object through every danger." "I like him well, my lord ! He is certainly deserving of her if she loves him." " I- knew you would like him, and thereforeiI have told you this. It is my intention to seek him out at an early day, as soon as the prince shall have got safely to France, and then give him employment in charge of the vessel and ex- pedition which is planned for another attempt to get possession, if possible, of the person of Crom- well." " I was in hopes, my lord, that in this new ex- pedition I should not be overlooked." " I did promise to give you some opportunity of distinguishing yourself, Edward. But you are too useful to me. I would have you near me ; and besides, I wish from Cherbourg to send you with a message to St. Lo to my fair daugh- ter." Here-the young secretary blushed and'looked pleased. "Besides, wilt thou not, for love's sake, give my young friend Guilford a chance of winning a name that will give him the prince's favor, and thus open a way to his advancement in the world?" "I gainsay it no further, my good lord," an- swered Edward, with a cheerful smile. " Hast thou finished those despatches for Paris ?" " Yes, my lord." "Seal and address them. But first let me see the letter to the French king; for it is important that there be no error in it." The earl took the paper and began reading in a low, audible tone, as follows " Your .moat christian majesty will be pleased to learn that our august Prince Charles, since THE YOUNG the disastrous defeat of his forces near Worces- ter, forty days ago, has hitherto eluded the efforts of Cromwell to take his person captive. I have certain information to convey to your majesty that he is hoveringnear the English south coast, and will embrace the first safe opportunity for embarking across the channel to find that safety in your dominions which your majesty;through me, has so courteously offered to him. It is to be ardently hoped that the prince will reach the French coast ere many days.". The earl continued to read on for a few lines further, but in a less audible manner, and then immediately returning the letterto the secretary, he said: " It is correctly copied and fairly writ. Seal." "You have forgotten to sign it, my lord." " True." The Earl Villiers then took a pen in his left hand and made a capital V, after which he placed a seal that, he took from his sword hilt, upon some wax that Edward had previously placed for the reception of it. It was a shield, on which was a three-masted ship, and for a crest was a hand severed at the wrist. "I wear this seal and badge till Cromwell loses his usurped throne, and then I resume my arms. I will yet make him wince the more, as men say he does at hearing of Red Hand, his deadly foe ! Now I would have thee pen a let- ter to my fair daughter, at the convent St. Lo. It is four weeks since she wrote me the sweet missile which pleased me so, and I have deigned it no reply. Come, sir, thou art my right hand, and I would have thee write to a lady as I would have done in my younger days. Let the script be smaller than that in which thou hast writ to the French king, and by no means so large as that wherewith thou writest to our English bar- ons. A handwriting for ,a lady's eye, let me teach thee, young cavalier, should be graceful in shape, neat in all its arts, of a cunning and pleasing fashion, and without mar or blot. I like well the Italian script for this business. Dost thou know it ?" " Yes, my lord ; I have cultivated all styles of Spain, of France, of Italy, and of Germany." "Let us have that of Italy." " I am ready, my lord." " Then say these words with thy own finish ; for, by the rood I I am better skilled in ropes and ships than in the art of penmansh4p. Now to thy task :-. FISHERMAN. "'FAIn DAUGHTER JENNY 'Thy sweetbillet came dulg4-my hand; and was read with pride and, satisfactiQf. It pleases me that thou art so ha ppy content with thy present abode, and that the abbess doth her best to give thee such entertainment as becometh thy goodness and my daughter. Thou wilt par- don this lorg delay between my answer and thy letter ; but this is a busy season since the mishap to the prince's army, and I am compelled to keep astir, and mostly on the sea, forI am hoping to give the prince the opportunity of getting off from the coast in my ship, which would be the proudest event of thy father's life to aid his prince in escaping from his enemies. Thou hast heard how he has been hunted in Scotland ; but getting into .England, he is now wandering near the coast, and must soon either fall into the hands of his enemies or get safely over to France. If he reach Paris, I shall not fail to go there to give him my homage, in which case I will pass St. Lo and take thee with me ; for thy education is by this time well on to its close ; and what thou lackest in thy head, thy face's beauty will make up. idward Percy telleth me that thou hast grown wonderfully fair. Be will be the bearer of this, and I would fain coin+ mend him (here there lurked a smiling expres- sion in the corner of the earl's eye) to thy, cour- tesy and attention, for he hath. my confidence and love. Heavenbless thee, fair daughter Jen- ny, and soon place thee in the arms of thy loving father, ARTHUR, EARL OF VILLISns." This letter having been duly penned by the youthful secretary, Red Hand settled himself upon his couch and gave himself up to the pro- posed sleep which he so much needed,while Ed. ward continued at the escritoire writing and sealing pacquets addressed to various exiled no- blemen in France. At length the day broke, and the earl, rising, went to the deck. His keen eye surveyed the horizon. Three or four vessels were in sight, one of which, far to the eastward, was made' out to be a brig-of-war, but as she showed no colors, her nature could not be made out ; though as she was near the French coast, she was-supposed to be a vessel of that nation. Some dozen fishing vessels were also seen running about. Upon all three Red Hand directed the long, heavy tele- scope of that day, and then, having swept the French coast near which he was sailing, he and- denly gave orders to put about ; for up to that page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] THE YOUNG ]JSHEBMAN. time, since Guilford had left her in the yacht durigtrepdiugnight, she had been steering nearlygwe t. ,he island of Alderney lay;about two lagues distant abeam, when they tacked. ship. " Lay her course E. N. East," said Red Hand. "We will run up, the channel and keep cruising between Normandy and Sussex, for we may be so fortunate as to fall in with some of the fugi- tiv99 crossing who will give us news of-the prince. Keep a close watch on all the fishing boats, and run close to each of them, so that if any of the prince's party be in them, we may take them on board." The ship how stretched eastward under all her canvas, for the breeze was light from the -south and south by west, and every sail had to be set to get six knots an hour out of her. The men, after they hacl breakfasted, were called to quar- ters and trained to 'the guns, to keep-them in constant practice ; for they were surrounded by hostile vessels, and might at any hour find them selves engaged in mortal conflict with some of Cromwell's ships.- . In this manner, closely ex- amining every craft, the royal cruiser of the chan- nel kept on her course, thesight of tier causing many an English trading vessel to up helm and fij for shelter towards the nearest land on the British side, CHAPTER XVIII. AN EXoITING sCENE. IT was about three o'clock in the afternoon, of his ship and run into Cherbourg, the lookout when the ship commanded by Red Hand came aloft called lustily from his perch:- nearly opposite Cape. La Hogue, thq land lying "Sail. ho!" about five ,miles from her to 'the south,.on the "Where away" demanded the officer o the starboardbeam.. The wind had been light and deck, making use of the same nautical phrase- bafflingall.day, and she had made but little pro- ology, which' 'for-more than two hundred years grass Since the morning; nothaving placed more has been customary in theEnglish navy.. than fifteen miles between her and the place .. " Three points abaft the larboard beam." where, at' sunrise, she had put about to steer The earl:glanced over the quarter, and saw a eastward up the channel. . vessel, at some distance yet,.but the appearance ;The Vessels which;had been visible from her of:which caused him to call quickly for his'tele- deck itt the morning bad nowall disappeared in scope. . When it was handed to him, he-rested it their several directions, but-others were in sight, upon a rattling of the mizzen:riggingandtlevelled The brigofwar, which they had supposed to be it.upon 'the stranger., There' were a dozen other a French vessel, had suffered the "Prince vessels in. sight in other directions, 'but they Charles " to come near enough for her to make were all made'out to be .either trader or coaat, out her, character, when, without waiting for a ers or fishermen, save one, which was;'tothe north more intimate acquaintance, and trusting to her and east, which could not be made out, being too, heels, she hoisted the British; flag; and.ran for remote, but-which seemed' to be cording down Portsmouth. .Several fishing vessels, but chiefly hand over . hand, bringing a fine topsail breeze Norman, had been brought too-itk the course of along with her. the fifteen miles run, but there : was no one on' "What do you; make her ' out, my lord-i" board-save the. ordinary crews.. 'Nor from two asked Edward, wlio:stood near the earl,'assisting Englishifishing smacks which Red Hand'brought his one arm in keeping the glass steady. to, could he learn anything of any fugitives hav 4 "A confounded large ship, and with iron ing been seen on the coast, or 'having crossed to teeth enough to eat two such mouthfuls a 'we France, are." About half past three in the afternoon, as the - "A ship of thi largest class, my lord ?" earl was about to give orders to alter the course . "Yes, and one of Cromwell's bull-dogs. I I i THE YOUNG FISHERMANR know her well, by Ber stump topmasts. It isI the Leviathan, and is twice our metal.. She hast a breeze with her, too, and seems to be steering dead for us." "You may be sure, my lord, she knows who' we are." " Without doubt. We have boarded craft enough since morning to report us in that quar-4 ter." 'My lord," said the quartermaster, who had been~for some minutes inspecting the ship in the northern board. " Well, Claypole, what now l" "The chap there a-weather is coming down with a bone in his teeth. iHe has an ugly look about the muzzle." "If he comes too near, we will spoil his muz- zle for him, if that is the case," said the earl, cheerfully; for he was one of those'chivalrous natures that"take delight - in the accumulation of dangers. " The fellow off the quarter has also a breeze, while we lay as quiet here as'if we were at our anchors. fiave supper for the men early, and then have all hands to quarters,", he called out. " We shall hardly get away from these two inquisitive gentlemen who- are coming down this way to look; at us, without a brush:" At hearing' this, the whole quarterdeck was in excitement. The -fficers smiled and ex- changed congratulations with each other at the prospect of a battle, wbile the rumor flying for- ward among 'the men, iMused a spirit- of bel- ligerepey into their bosoms that completely changed the whole aspect of things. One wld have thonht that the happiest intelligence had- reached them, instead of the report that two large, armed foes were coming down upon them, probably to attack them, and possibly destroy them and their vessel. -But if the faced of the officers and men brightened,, the oiuntenance of their chief, Red Hand, shone with courage and warlike anticipation. Already, in numerous in stances had he met the ships of the, usurper-and cegquered them,though inferior in strength to them. And so:frequent, bold and successful had been his assaults upon ships, castles, mand even towns on the coast, that in proportion as people held his name in awe, his own confidence in his invincibility had increased. Cape de la Hague, oppositeghiich the ship of ~the earl lay, scarcely in motipafor want of wind, has two horns, and in the. bay between them lies the town of Cherbourg. This port was in full sight; not twdleages'4istants¢ 'cis the ship,-*hile astern an ahead,,ifaIlke to leeward, lay tie two tapes.' To th't il&i ward the'faint'blue 'line of the' Coast of SSAe and the Isle of Wight=were visible, forty lifes off. A little asteht and about seven tdiles dis- tant, was the larger ship, the Leviathan, coning down on the wind, and steering as if runni quietly for Cherbourg. Forward of the bean, in the northern board, also was to be seen the other ship, steering also for Cherbourg; though' as this was a French port, 'there was no prbb r ability of their being bound there ; but'ts the Prince Charles lay directly in the track to 'the 'port, this vessel was very clearly the object at' which they were aiming. There were soms half a score of small craft in sight, and far distant two, or three English fishing-boats. The men at length bad their supper, and th officers also, so. that the after eubins, with 'tte bulkheads removed, were soon turned into op'eui decks with men at 'the guns. At length, abo four o'clock, the Leviathan came sot near as ' {_r' ' show her ports to the naked eyes of the men the channel cruiser ; but the wind had got ahead of her, and ,Red Hand was able to manage hIt . vessel under motion with a five-knot breeze. The ship which was coming from the coast of England, was now near enough for her guns to be counted; 'but instead of keeping on for the Prince Charles, she suddenly hauled her wind and stood six or seven points eastward. f That is a new manoeuvre," exclaimed ted Hand, as he saw it; and catching up, his glaaW' he directed it towards her. "She is 'in chasf' a fishing smack I" he cried. "I see the smack about two miles ahead of her to the southland evidently flying from.her. They are wetting her' sails and using their'oars. There must be some- thing more than usual in the wind, for a frigate to .turn out of her 'course 'toehuse a fishing- vessel !Crowd every stitch of!canvas 'up i'the ship, sir 1" he ordered, in tones of unusu 'ani- iation. "The smack is making for the Frenei Coast as fast as she can make speed," said the t ter- master, with his eye to his glass: The whole attention of every one on board the'eruiser as now directed to the frigate' and the fugitive fishing-smack If there had been any doubt in the minds of any one-as to the ob- ject which had turned the English tessel'from her courseiwas now removed by her firing at long shot at the escaping little craft. page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] 66 THE YOUNG rowd on e-li every yard of sail 1" shouted the earl. "We .must cut the frigate off from hlc se.. Ten to one, there is some one of the prince's friends in her, and the glass of the cap- tain of the frigate has detected him." All on board was now intense enthusiasm. Every nautical art was brought into use to in- crease the ship's velocity, and enable her to cut off the fishing-smack. The latter had full five miles yet to sail before she could reach the French shore. She was aiming for the little fishing port of Feschamps, beyond the cape. On her star- board quarter, not two and a half miles distant, and pressing all canvas after, and firing at inter- vals, was the frigate we have spoken of, and from the rapidity with which she gained on her, there was every prospect of her capturing the prize for which she seemed to be straining all her nerve. the cidiser Prince Charles was about a mile and a half from the fishing-smack, and so had a mile advantage of the frigate for cutting her off; as she had to run all this distance to inter- herself between them, it was feared by Red d that the smack might be destroyed by the set of the frigate. He therefore, as soon as he 'tme within range, opened his larboard battery upon her in the most spirited cannonade. This, as he expected, drew the fire of the frigate upon him, but'she did not cease to crowd sail in chase of the boat, nor to send balls after her from one of her bow chasers. "I will soon put an end to this double game," said the earl; and bringing his ship into the wind, he opened broadside after broadside upon her so effectually, that she had enough to do to take care of herself and return it. In the midst of the battle, which every moment grew hotter, Edward, who had kept his eye upon the smack with the telescope, exclaimed: " She, has been hit, my lord, and the fisher- men are trying to keep her from sinking. ,But ho! my lord! There is the woman we saw, who has thrown off her gown, and now is work- ing in a man's dress. It is aman, my lord 1" " Then, by the mass i it must be a disguised exile. Let me see 1" The earl took the glass and levelled it at the boat, which had her mainmast shot away, and which was filling fast with water.; " You are right. There are five men now and no woman! That was a disguise. Hoi know we but the fortunes of England are in tha sinking boat! Square away the yards 1" h FISHERMAN. shouted, " and let us go to the succor of the- boat, so that if there be any one in her of note we can give him aid. Keep your batteries play- ing lively, my lords," he called to his officers. " We have knocked the frigate's quarter railing to pieces, and crippled her foremast ; but she is doing her best to come up with the sinking smack. But we will be ahead of her !" - Red Hand now took a position on the bow of his ship, and earnestly kept his glass upon the smack. Both vessels are now about half a mile distant from each other and from the fishing- boat, and drawing nearer under constant firing, to the point at which both aimed. "It is the prince !" shouted one of the officers, who had been for some moments looking at the smack, which, having been cleared from water, the persons in it were once more pulling towards the French coast. "Who? where?" demanded Red Hand, to whom he stood near on the bows. " The man at the smack's helm, steering. Look well, my lord ! He has his hat off, and I can clearly distinguish his features, and his long black hair, and his very figure and air, too." The earl, himself, now took the spy-glass. He looked through it a moment, and then cried, with emotion:. "It is he ! It is the prince! We must save him I Blow this infernal frigate out of the wa- ter i Double shot your guns, my men ! The prince ! our king ! is in yonder sinking bark; trying to escape for his life and crown I Fire red hot shot ! Make your iron-throated guns roar ! See how the frigate gains! Blow her into the air, or they will seize our king from our very grasp !" The ship reeled, and seemed rent in every seam by the terrible discharge of the whole of her broadside at once into the-frigate at scarcely, " musket shot range. The iron storm that rushed through the air seemed to be obedient to the fierce mandate of the chief. One of the red hot' - shot must.have penetrated to: the magazine, for scarcely had the roar of-the discharge ceased, - when it was followed by.an explosion more ap. palling than human ears ever heard. The very surface of the water vibrated.and swang from, I side to side, and the whole heavens seemed rent, while spars, bodies and limbs of men, and even cannon flew through the air, which was filled with shrieks and groans of anguish too horrible t for description.. e Every man on board the cruimr stood petri- THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. fled and amazed. Not a word was spoken, not " Go thou and mind thef on busntres, man)" a gun fired, not a foot was moved for full a responded Robin. minute, till the last fragment had fallen into the " That will I, and thine, too," responded the sea, and the ruined ship, with a painful lurch, man, with an evil light in his eyes. "It will be descended, a huge coffin of dead and dying, be- hardly safe for thee to land foot again on Sus- neath the surface of the sea. sex shore, if I get there afore ye." " That was the most fearful thing I ever wit- With these words of menace he let his main nessed," said Red Hand, who was the first to sheet fly, and before the wind went on his way break silence. "But it is the fate of war. Come, towards' the English shore. men ! Do - not stand stupified" It has saved "That man will do as he says, Robin! It our prince ! Behold the royal Charles himself will be hardly safe for either you or I to go back standing at the helm and steering that fishing- at present." smack yonder, In a few-minutes we shall have "That it wont, Guilford. But -I hope no him safe on board ! His life is cheaply pur- harm will come upon Anne and thy motherr" chased by the five hundred disloyal lives that "No," answered Guilford, thoughtfully,."they have now just been sacrificed to his safety." will scarcely dare harm them for our acts. Let We will now return to the smack, on board us hope for the best." which we left the prince asleep, while Guilford, at the helm, was guiding his little vessel with skill and speed across the channel. At one period both the nobles laid down in the bottom of the boat and slept also; so that'the smack was for .several hours wholly under the eye of Guilford and Robin. Not long after the two noblemen had fallen into repose, a small trad- ing lugger passed them, standing towards the Sussex coast. Its owner was well known to be a smuggler, and Guilford, though he knew him well, as 'he belonged to Brighthelmstone, had never any -intercourse with him. This man steered his lugger a little out of her course, in order to pass close to the smack, which Guilford perceiving, tried to prevent; for he did not wish to have the two fugitives who were lying in the bottom of his little vessel, asleep, discovered by him. The lugger, however; kept away for him, and came close under his bows. "Hilloh, master Guilford l" he hailed; "what luck to-day ? Methinks you keep well over to the French coast, when 'at this tide thou shouldst know thou wilt find the fish plentiest off the Isle of Wight." "How dast thou know but that I am bound as thou bast been, to France, to get a cargo of French brandies ?" replied Guilford, in no good humor. - "Ah, by my head, it would be an honest errand; ay, an honester one, may be," added the man, standing up and stretching, his long neck to look over into the smack, for he had brought his- lugger almost dead into the wind's eye as he was talking; "honesterl than smug- gling over king's' men. I see thou hast a pair ! Rare birds,.my lad. How many golden louis dost this day's fishing bring thee ?" "And fear the worst for Anne." "It is but a poor courage, Robin, that is ever looking on the dark side. What we wish and believe will almost always come to pass. Let us believe and hope all will be safe with those we love." "How unlucky we should fall in with tha' bad man, Guilford!" " It is all for the best." "I wish I could think about things as quietly as you do. But the fellow cant do us any harm, for we shall get the prince across before any one can be sent after us." " Yes, I hope so. If he .should fall in with any of the channel watch-ships, which we have so fortunately eluded, he will give information, and we shall be pursued. But as we are half way across the channel, I have little fear." "I don't like the looks of the ship astern," said Robin. " She has ports, I am sure." " I can't well make her out, but she can hsirdly notice us ; and besides, she can't be in chase of us, for she came from the Portsmouth direction." Guilford, however, was in the wrong, for once. The frigate was a guarda coasta, and had been all the day overhauling fishing-boats and ex- amining them, and had seen the smack with other boats some time before. But being spoken by the lugger, the skipper of which pointed out the fishing-vessel, then a league ahead of the ship, as having two fugitives on board, the frigate rewarded the man for his information and crowded on all sail in chase. When she had-been running on this course some half an hour, the captain of the frigate made out Red Hand's vessel, and recognized the ship. Upon making known who she was, ._ 67 page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. ' 69 08 THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. his o cer -were byno means anxious to come in collision with the formidable captain,. and proposed that the course of the frigate should be changed. To this, however, the commander firmly objected. = The disastrous results of the chase, the reader has already seen. When it began, Guilford had called up the prince and made known the exact danger they were in. Prince Charles then manifested the self-possession which always characterized him. Having. closely observed the two vessels, both of which were standing towards him, and both of nhich he supposed to be enemies, he promptly gave directions for the management of their es- cape. -,By his suggestion, Guilford, Robin, and the two noblemen rowed with the four oars, and he himself took the helm, and at- the same time kept the sails -wetted by throwing water upon them with a long-handled scoop which the smack carried for this purpose. "She gains an us, your majesty," said Gu- ford,-whose practised eye could note with more accuracy than theirs the least-variation of dis- tance on the water. "Which of the two, master Guilford ?" asked the prince, now'looking at the frigate astern and now at Red Hand's ship, both of which were equally distant from the smack. "both of them I see now gain. But the ship to the west is, I belieye, a friend, my prince !" suddenly exclaimed Guilford.. " A friend ! " Then welcome to her ! But, by, the maceof King Cole, master Guilford, there is but poor chance of a fugitive like me finding a friend in a Cromwell ship."_ " I do believe, your majesty, it is the Earl Red Hand's channel cruiser."- " Earl Villiers !" cied the prince, with ani- mation. -The good angels grant it be. ButI fear you are mistaken." "No, my lord- I mean your majesty"- " Let my majesty alone, good master Gra- ham," said the prince. "Nay, shall I not call thee my prince ?" "'If thou wilt. Art sure of the vessel? for the stout earl is one of the staunchest friends I and England have at this dark day." "I can't be mistaken,'my prince,"~responded Guilford,with animation. "Irecognize the poop and the castle on her bows ; for I was on board of her only last night.". " True, The good stars of my house now aid me. Blow, sweet winds ! But nay! The same wind that giveth her to us bringeth our foe." "Your majesty," said Lord Algernon,, the gray-bearded noble, "that must be the Earl Vil-- Hers, for that is not the English flag which he has just hoisted." "It is a blue flag with a red hand in the en-, tre !" cried the Scottish lord, with a kindling eye. "It is the earl's ship." " Then there is hope for us yet ! But there comes an iron ball after us," added the prince, as a jet of, smoke belched from the bows of the frigate which had the English cross flying at her mast head, and a shot came bounding over the waves, dashing the spray upon them as it whizzed, past. Another, and a third shot followed, and then they beheld the shipof the earl.come to the wind and open her cannonade. The scene to the eyes of the prince and all with him was so intensely interesting, as they gazed upon the fierce battle between the two ships, that .for a moment they forgot to row. But they were reminded of their duty by a dhot from the frigate, which struck their boat just forward of the beam, on the bulge of the bow,.and cut her down to the water's edge. Instantly they became aware of their peril, and as the boat began to fill, Guilford sprang towards the prince, and placed in his hands a thwart, saying that "it would buoy him up if the boat went down." "Thanks, my brave friend; but what will be- come of thee ?" said the prince, seeing'that the two lords held the other planks. ",I will take care of myself. If thou artsaved, my prince,- my poor life will be well offered for thy safety." "That may not be. Can't we save her ?" " Yes, perhaps we can float, if the noble cav- aliers will aid to bale out with their hats." " That we will all do," responded the prince ; and .throwing off the gown, which till now he had worn, he set the example. Robin, in thp meanwhile tried to stop the rush of water in, by throwing his body into the gap, an expedient which was successful ; for soon the little vessel began to rise from the flood and float with more buoyancy. But all their efforts were for a mo- ment suspended by the terrific explosion, which freed them from their enemy astern in the awful manner we have already described. "Merciful heaven assoilzie their poor souls !" reverently ejaculated the prince, as he saw the brave ship plunge headlong beneath the sea with its mass of life. The swell of the sea that fol- lowed the immersion of so large a bulk tossed the smack wildly about, and it required all their united aid to keep her from going down. On all sides were seen the black heads of swimmers, who were calling for aid; for at least six score of the crew were thrown by the explosionunhurt into the sea. - "We cannot aid thee, wretches," said the prince, "for we are in a strait equal to thine. ' All our hopes depend on the present approach of the earl's ship." This vessel was now within five , hundred fathoms of the smack, which could be scarcely kept afloat. Upon her bows stood Red Hand, calling out manfully to the prince : " Keep up heart, my royal master ! A few seconds more -nd we will reach you ! Down with the boats, but first for me !" he added. The warlike, castellated ship now got within her length of the smack, when the earl sprang into a boat alongside, and pulled by a dozen strong arms, the next moment had the prince's hand in his, and drew him from the foundering fishing vessel into his own barge. Instantly he dropped on his knee before him, and with tears in his eyes kissed his hands. "0, my prince ! my escaped, my beloved and royal Charles !" The air at the same time was 5 rent with huzzas for Prince Charles, and for a few moments it seemed as if every man in the boats and on the ship were beside themselves. Some shouted, some wept, some huzzaed, some danced over the decks, others embraced, and all was: jy and glad uproar. Escorted by the earl, Prince Charles ascended the, side of the ship, and then every officer pressed around him, knelt before him, and em- braced. him, weeping like children. Charles himself could scarcely see for the emotions that blinded his own eyes with tears. He recognized this one and that one, and called them by name, and kissed on the cheek some of those whom he had once known most intimately. "Now, your highness," said Red Hand, whose war-worn cheeks were wet with tears of delight, "let me lead thee to my cabin." " Nay, not till I have presented to thee and all my friends the brave young man to whom I owe my escape from England. Where is he ?" The prince then looked around for Guilford, and also for Robin, but was told they were in the smack, which some of the sailors wereaiding them in saving from sinking. He then called to him to leave the boat and come en board. page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] WHEN Guilford, in obedience to the command of the prince, came over the ship's side, and the eyes of the Earl Red Hand fell upon him, the latter exclaimed with~surprise and pleasure: "What ! dost thou owe thy secure flight from the shores of Britain to this young man, your majesty ?" " Yes ; and never will I forget my obligations to him. Advance, master Guilford, and let me present thee as my deliverer t, these my noble friends." "By the rood, sir Guilford !" said the earl, as he warmly grasped his hand, "thou art in luck. Thy star is in the ascendant. Thou art the most fortunate man born ! Come, thou shalt tell me how it has been thy fortune to be of such service to England's king." " My lord," said Edward, who had already exchanged a grasp of the hand with Guilford, " the men in the boats wish to know if they shall save the poor devils who are swimming about the ship ?" " What," exclaimed the prince, " the wretches thrown into the wate? by the explosion of the frigate ?" "Yes, your highness," answered Red Hand. "By all means ! pick them' up to a man, and bediligent! They are All my British subjects. You have room for them, my good Villiers ?" "Yes, your majesty, as prisoners," answered Red Iand, with a slight cloud upon his brow. " But I have little favor towards the villains who have placed my prince's life in jeopardy." " Let that passI We must be humane, my dear earl. But what ship have we standing down so bravely this way ?" "That is a parliament war vessel, your majesty," answered Red.Hand, who had been so much occupied with the rescue and reception of the prince as ' be heedless of the approach of this vessel, until now she was within a league, and booming down upon them under all her enormous spread of canvas. Red Hand, having escorted the prince to his cabin, and ordered refreshments at once to be placed before him and the two noblemen, hast- ened from his presence, and ascending the highest part of the stern, called Edward to his side. " Place the telescope in rest here, and let me have a sight at this monster, for I begin to fear that the prince, now that he is on board of us, would be safer anywhere else." " There is great danger, my lord," answer ! Edward. " She is certainly coming on us fast since we stopped to take the prince on board." " Yes, that she is, and she is already training her guns upon us. Make all sail !" he shouted, x t J t f 4 'V Tl~R YOUNG S~IRRhE&N. 1 CHAPTER XIX,. A NEW DANGER-BEP HAND'S DEVOTION. like the tones of a battle trumpet. "l]very maan to his post-! Boats, aboard I If thereare any more men' tot be, picked up, let the ship astern look after them. Casovprboard adozen spars for the miserable wretches, to float on!1 Sail all ! We mast save the: prince, from capture !". At the sound of his ringing commands all was activity from stem o stern. The boats were hoisted up, and Robin had!the regret to see his smack, to which no repairs could ;be made, drop astern; and at length slowly disappear be- neath the tide, Bt;all that the goodship could do, she could not make her way beyond the-reach of the-Levia- than's long :guns, one of which was now fired upon.her at the farthest range. The;shet fell astrna quarter of.a mile ; but the second shots which soon followed, dropped.into the'ship's wake. " The game is up," said the earl. "It.will not do for the prince- to say half an hour longer on board, for that ship will blpw ne out,of the water, unlesi.I can; ,ork to windward,- and then it is doubtful if we.can get away from hpr." This was, spoken to a.group of officers whoug he had; called arpund him.on the deck, wllile the prince,was regaling himself with thewjnes and acceptable;farehe-had placed.before)gim. "We are ;caught in- this bay of H avre dc Grace, and'nmust either run ashore or fight." "It would bemadness, my lord, to fight such a ship,;twice our size," said his officers. "Iknowit.- My mind.is made up. We must let.the prince., go. There, is the little village of Fesehamps under our lee, zrt five piles distant. Andthere flies a.rench fishermau straightinto *the , port. -Eirea gun forward, and bring the boat 4.", The orderwas.no sooner giventhan.obeyed, and ,.small fly-sailboat withie one mast,. which was darting over ,the water, landward; li kea swallowou the wing, sud4enly lowering its tri- angular ,si, waited. the approach .f theelhip, In the nwme, nie;r the earl entered the cabin where the princewas at his repagstwith-hi9,two friends. -Th"sisafeast, my dear earl, fitto setbefore a hig,' said.the prince, laughing, " I have not died s well in many a day., $y the toped! if you kgepus st weld hgre in yopeas te o ft, seat slall be indueed to be Iongypurguest' "Gladlye,wouldI haveyour mejesymyguest as long as it may please you to honor psy, poor 71 i vessel with your royal presence. But I regret to say that I,have come, dour majesty, tq waro you that you are not safe even here, thoughyon are. surrounded by brave hearts and 19yel.; but these may bleed for you, but they cannot protect; you againstthe foe thp4 menaces your safety'. "What now? Have I to fly again so sogn, my 'dear earl?" said the prince, with a slight shade of discontent'on his brow. "Iwas induig. ing the hole that for a day or two i should find here repose and quiet.". "So I hoped, gwur highness. Please cast your eyes out of the stern window, and .you will ee one of the largest of Cromwell's ships in ghase of us. It will be impossible for me to cppe with so formidable an antagonist; and I have conte to beg your majesty to take refuge on boar4 a French fishing vessel now alongside." "I am in you hands, inj dear earl and my lords,"' answered the prince rising. "But to whom am I to entrust myself ?" " Two 3'rencbmen,-an old man and a boy, your highness." "I will take with me my TO trutty IgS friends,4raham and Robin; with tlem ishall feel secure." Upon reaching the gangway, the prince as4 Guilford if, he would still accompany him; and see hin safely on French ground. Our young hero very joyfily cornp ie with the prince's wish, and at tisame, time vi W the prince, the two lords who had come ,with him, got, into the fishing boat. Edwardealso inadu one of thg party,, laden; with the paequeps with which the earl had entrusted him., -" Now farewell, my brave earl, and my lord and gentlemen. I hope, if anyof youcomb to Paris,, youwill not fail to call.on me;, ad trust IIeayen will ond day send us allntjeg fortugees." With this sonxrteous p .tingspeece i tg raised andwaved his chapeau to ty of ers4Ad ap 6 to .epien, who co9wdeA the.rg bulwarks to see him depart. e on board the Frenc. boat the last sad having embraced the prince, he e 4Izfs handto Guilford. "I see you need no aid from me, my rave youngfen.d , ]the prineecones to hise wghput 1being;a popieta' The fishingboat was soi cars; 4ss side of the ship,,,d nQuiQrd, i t, orna of Prince Charles, took the lielm rm . I ' '' page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 72- THE YOUNG Norman fisherman, who 'had all the while re- garded with a sort of bewilderment this summary disposition of his little vessel. " Where will, you land, my prince ?" asked Guilford, as he took the helm. " What-village is that in the bottom of the bay south of us ?" "'eschainps, your majesty !" " Good ! I will land there. We can reach it in an hour, think you " p. * !" Yes, your majesty ! The wind is fair and free.' "And so are the shot, it would seem, from yonder huge war ship," responded Charles, as a heavy iron missile from the double-decker flew above heir heads with an appalling roar. "The earl, who had seen the shot pass his own vessel towindward, at once gallantly steered his ship so as to place her in line between the fishing vessel which contained the prince and the enemy ; for be saw'that they were directing their fire to- ika-ds it, as if they suspected it contained some important personage. When prince Charles saw this manoeuvre, whereby the ship completely protected the boat from the double-decker's guns, he 'said, with emotion : "What a true heart that brave Arthur of the ed' Hand, as men term him, has in his manly and Jbyal bosom I He is ready to receive the whole iOre of the formidable foe to protect his prince. It is worth the dangers and, privations I have undergone for me to learn the devotion of my friends. Everywhere I have found trusty confidants, and in no instance have I been be- trayed."/ The fishing boat now bounded merrily over the water, ndring the land each moment ; but the sense of 'escape and safety was modified on the prince's part by the danger in which he now saw the courageous earl placed. Without attempting to run away from his enemy, but only tr 'ing to keep his vessel as a shield to cover the prince's retreat, 'the earl held his ship in the wind, and received in his hull a shower of iron balls'that were hurled upon him from the Levia- than, which kept stalking on, belching forth fire and smoke like a moving volcano. At length, when the earl saw that the fishing vessel was -beyond the reach of the double- decker's, guns, and close under the land, quite beyond all danger' of capture, he proceeded to. fight his vessel out of the dangerous situation ini the best manner he was able.- But after firing FISHERMAN. three broadsides, which had no effect upon the double decker, which drew nearer every mo- ment,'he called his officers about hind. "My lords and loyal gentlemen I You need not be told of the imminent peril we are in. The fate of our noble ship is sealed. It is impossible for us to save her. Our only hope for our own safety is to square away and run for the' French coast, and strand her and set her on fire. We have saved the prince I Already ' he is within hail of the coast where he will find an asylum and protection. With this let us be content ! If we lose our ship, we shall have the proud con- aciousness of knowing that we sacrificed her for our beloved prince's safety. There remains now but a choice between captivity and the capture of our vessel, or her destruction by our'own hands, and our safety on French -soil. I shall, therefore, with your consent, give orders to'steer straight for the land." The officers were all of the earl's mind, and the next moment the gallant ship, already greatly crippled by the Leviathan's heavy targeting, N squared her yards and drove straight fot the beach, which extended out in front of the town of Cherbourg. The earl would gladly have landed her near Feschamps, but a reef running but- in front of that place, would have caught the ship half a mile before she could reach 'the main land, while at Cherbourg they could run directly under the walls of the fort.' The Leviathan no sooner found the ship was making for the land, than she tame into the wind, .and gave her first one and- then another broadside. But through the 'storm of iron the brave ship held heraay, though her spars were splintered, her rigging cut, her timbers wounded,, and her scuppers running blood from her slaugh- tered crew. Onward she held her course, till at length she had only her foremast and single fore- sail remaining. Yet with this squared to the wind, she drove forward, staggering and help- less, while the shores of Cherbourg were thronged withtcitizens; who, by their shouts, encouraged those on board. The Leviathan came to about a mile from the town, for want of sufficient depth of water, and lowering a fleet of boats, sent themns in after the ship, which could scarcely creep along for her wounds. 'But at length she struck the shore, and a score of boats from the land came off- to land the crew. They were soon'filled, but Red Hand remained last with a dozen of his men. "We will give them a parting salute," ha said, quietly. I THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. The guns on the larboard battery had been previously shotted, and as the ship in grounding had swung beam on the land, her battery bore directly on the flotilla of boats. The latter were pulling in with a perseverance and boldness that showed their determination -to take the ship though she was in a friendly port; but in those days the privileges of neutrality were not so sacredly regarded by nautical men as they are at thepresent day. When the boats of the parliament ship had got within half a mile, Red Hand gave the signal by touching off the after gun with his own hand. The others were discharged in rapid succession,, and the earl, amid' the smoke, after setting fire to his ship, left her to her,fate. The effect of the broadside upon the advanc- ing boats was prodigious ; so that it was said that Red Hand had slain more me i in the last hour of his command on the channel, than In1 all his fourteen years' cruisings.' Out of nine boats, but three reached the Leviathan, the othersbar- ing been destroyed by the final fire of the Royal Charles. The earl stood upon the shore apd witnessed with a sad heart the conflagration of his fine ship, as in the dusk of evening she shot up tongues of lurid flame to the sky, illuminating town and port, harbor and shore, sea and clouds with a brilliant flame, and night closed over a scene of appalling interest and excitement. '4,~ I- At St. Lo the earl received his daughter, wb joined the cavalcade, and riding more especially under the care of the youthful secretary, she Was escorted to the metropolis. The subsequent events connected with the ar. rival of the prince in Trance, and his retiring and establishing a court in Holland of the nobles who had followed him, are such common matters of history, that we need not dwell upon them in our story, but carry our narrative forward toathe period when the sun of his fortunes once more rose above the horizon and lighted him to the throne of his ancestors. Cromwell, after an unparalleled usurpation of nine years, at length died, contrary to the ex- pectation of his, enemies, peacefully upon, his bed, and naming his son Richard as his successor. But this person possessed none of the ambition, or statesmanlike talents, or warlike spirit of his father ; and after a brief exercise of the power bequeathed to-him, resigned it into the hands of & parliament. England was now without a head; and all hearts were turned to the youthful Prince Charles, who still remained in Holland, where he surrounded himself by a brilliant court' To him a messenger wardespatched by the parlia. meant, offering to reinstate him on the throne of -the realm, on certain conditions. THn earl and his officers were hospitably en- tertained that night by the citizens of Cherbourg, who, when they learned that Prince Charles had safely landed in France, illuminated theircity with joy ; for the French of all classes had , a great horror of Cromwell, and although they knew little of Prince Charles, the fact that he was the legitimate heir to the British throne was enough to bindto him the sympathy of the loyal, and, in that' day, king-loving people. The next day the earl, whose renown made him no'inconsiderable mark of curiosity, quitted Cherbourg 'for 'St. Lo, where his daughter, the fair Lady Jane, was placed for security and edu- cation. He was accompanied by several of his officers, who from thence were to accompany him to Paris, where they hoped to meet the prince, of whose safe landing at Feschamps. the earl had heard through Edward, who had joined him at .Cherbourg. "And what became of my brave friend Guil- ford ?" asked the earl.- "He accompanied the prince, by his request, to Paris. I saw them depart,.with the youth, and Robin, mounted 'on horses furnished by the mayor- of Fesehamps. Lords Algernon and. Catesby also accompanied his majesty; and they hoped to reach Paris in eighteen hours."' ' 1 I / CHAPTER XX. THE RINCEc's STAR IN THE ASCENDANT. page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] 74 THE YOUNG FISHERMAN The prince, when the parliament's courier was snioupced, was dining at a table at'which were Oeatea a score of his nobles, among wiorm were YordAlgernon, the Scottish'lord,'Catesby, and last, not least, Arthur of the Red Hand, earl of Villiers. When 'the prince received the pacquet from she hand of Lord Rudolph, who was the mes- eager, his' l*ow darkened as he perused it, the expression of his face being all the while closely watched bj his friends, who forgot the banquet in their anxiety to learn the news from England. But when he came to the close of it, a smile curled his lip. "News' from London, my lords!. You will excuse me while-I withdraw to give a response. My lord," he added, addressing the Earl of Vil- . liners, "you will please retire to my cabinet with me." He also named four other noblemen, and then rising, he took his leave and departed from the banquet-room. Upon reachin his cabinet he closed the door, but first ga orders to have Lord Rudolph Vane, the courier, hospitably en- tertained with all honor. " See to it, Guilford!" he said,'turning to our hero, who had left the table with him at his 'immand, aid now followed into the cabinet. 9:Youiuajesty could perhaps hardly-appoint a less acceptable host to Lord Rudolph," an- swered-Guilford with a slight color of embar- ra ment. True-..true!i I had forgotten! My Lord Granville," added the prince, " I pray you take care of-Lord Vane's comfort. W6 must not treat discourteously our parliament's messen- " 't- I obey your majesty," answered the noble- man, retiring.- "Now, my lords," said the king, " Hear our words.. The brave and loyal GeneralMonk, who seems to be standing just now in Cromwell's shoes in England, writes-me,'that now Richard, the son, has resigned his power,'he is ready to offer me my father's throne, provided that I will submit to and put my Signature to certain con ditions,-the very conditions which will make me recreant' to my royal father's memory,,and be, as it were, an-endorser of the justice of hi: murder. By' the soul 'of the Confessor, I wil bind myself to no conditions to regain that which is lawfully mine! !My lords, I will nevertheless advise with you." " May it please your majesty to read to u such passages of General Monk's letter-as may enalle us to advise your majesty" ," Listen !" "'Your- majesty's restoration is the wish'of my breast. That achieved, I am prepared to lay down all power and retire to private life. I am at the head of an army of ten thousand men. I * am encamped near London. I have power .to wield the parliament at my will. - As yet they do not suspect my intentions, which alone I now reveal to. your majesty. If your majesty will consent to the conditions herewith enclosed, . can safely invite your majesty to London, and ensure you a public reception that will surpass any public entry of a monarch since the days of the Conqueror. These conditions I know the parliament will insist on, and therefore I would. get them from your hand in order that when I propose your restoration to this body, I may be able on the spot to shut their mouths to all ob-. jections. I despatch my friend Lord Vane as the special bearer of this missive. Do not delay a reply, I entreat your majesty; and I pray do not ,refuse to comply with conditions, without which I fear the restoration can never be ef- fected. The hearts of the people are with your majesty.'" "Now, my lords, here are the conditions." - The prince then read from a paper enclosed in the letter the conditions, which history has made familiar to every reader. "You perceive, my friends," he said, when he had concluded,"what Chains they would shackle us with." "Nay, your majesty;" said the earl, "but rather with what rivets they would strengthen your throne." " Ha ! think you that way, my lord i" "I do, your majesty. The people no doubt would receive you without conditions -. but the parliament must be humored." "I will truckle to none of them 1" "Nay; your majesty, but something must be yielded on account of 'the disjointed state of the l times' and the imperfections of men's loyalty." "Well, you no doubt counsel-wisely., Guil- e ford!" " Your majesty,"-answered the young Asher- s man, who. stood near an escretoire, a little in the l rear of the king. He was dressed in a handsome h suit of plum-colored velvet, richly embroidered, s a silken vest, and laced doublet, and his hair Jfiwed long 'and 'waving upon his ,shapely s shoulders. In ,the interval of two or three THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. years since we last parted with him, a change has been made, not only in his appearance, but in his position., The prince had become personally attached to him from the day he had assisted in effecting his escape from England, and gave him a position near his own person, as his pri- vate secretary, a situation of responsibility, which Guilford's talents, address, and--thanks to his mother's good education-enabled him to fill with credit and honor. At length he became so useful to the prince that the latter could hardly bearhis absence ; and he always consulted him on all matters before bringing them before his nobles; and after any council, at which Guil- ford was ever present as secretary, he would talk over with him the debates, and search his opin- ions upon what had been discussed. By this means our hero not only made himself signally useful to the prince, but as he always had his ear, he held an influence in the eyes of the nobles which gave him a consideration that even rank would not have gained him. If any lord had any suit to prefer, any scheme to forward, Guil- ford was first made a confidant, with the request tht he would bespeak'the prince in favorsof the applicant. The agreeable person, the engaging and unaffected manners, and' the elegant ad- dress of the young attendant of the prince made him a universal favorite; and even envy was silenced, when it 'was remembered that the + young secretary was only receiving in this favor of his prince ;his juststeward in having brought him from England 'to' France and saved him from his, foes. obhin, who had no talents for a court, and who had no high aspirations, after remaining a' few months in Paris, and hearing that the smug- gler who had seen him in -the smack had been shot,'returned to Brighttelmstone, where he made the heart of the widow glfad by the intelligence he brought of Guilford's prosperity and= favor with the prince. Soon afterwards he 'married the pretty Anne, and taking'°up his abode in-the cottage, pursued the saine occupation as for- merly, and sometimes even going in his fishing' trips quite to the coast 'of France, to convey and ,Oceive letters that passed betweenthe prince and his friends in England. There were letters;r also, which were not strictly of a political na- ture; of which he was 'the bearer, inasmuch as they were handed hir eby the Lady Catharine, and addressed to ' The Rt. Worshipful Guilford Graham,9 Secretary to His Majesty ri ne Charles." " Well, my lords, will that suit you?" asked the king, looking round upon each face, and finally resting his dark eyes full upon the face of Earl'Villiers of the Red hand. "It is as much as becomes your majesty to say," attswered the lords., " Then1it shall go! Seal and direct itIto (en- eril. Monk,,Giilford. ,sow, gentlemen, we will return tosthe banquet-room."A' The king's. cheerful' countenance- as he'460 entered the hall, gave all hearts hope ; ardatlien he 'said, to cheer them; 'It is good news,' ny friends ; the - star of our fortune ,beginsto brighten. Within- three weeks, if nothing'Irip- pens, I hope we'shall' see merry E gland dne moree" Upon hearing this-the whole ompanrofnob exiles started to their feet ad made the hail1% with three loud British hun as. ' - . , The banquet was once more about : i be ' sumed, when Lord Rudolph, who was'iustd by the king'to be seated on his right,seein0ie Earl Villiers seated ne t to him, rose endtdiew back, clipping:his left hand upon his sword hilt. "What, sol How is this" demanded-'the king. "I have a feud of 'blood'yith the Earl' Vii- liers, and dantiot sit by him," asnswered Lord Rudolph,' with a fierce countenance. "Yo r majesty dill°Oxcuse me.' I- will at sy' hotel await your'answer' to;GeneralMenk." With these words, he ,quiekly'itrode'out of the hall. ' . 4 "Guilford," now said the prince, after having got the mind of the nobles, "sit thee down and write to the gallant General Monk these words: 'We, Charles Rex, having received your fair let- ter, give you thanks from our heart for the loyal spirit which hath prompted thee to make the offer of your aid to restore us to our throne. But, inasmuch as our subscription to the terms you lay down, which are the same in deftnce whereof our august father lost his head, we cannot sub- scribe to them in full; but will arrange these conditions when we -come into England, to the satisfaction of our parliament. We pledge our- selves, however, and here witness our hand, that we will do nothing contrary to the constitution of our realm. If this pledge be satisfactory, we; -will, on hearing from you to this effect, let nothing delay our return to England. (Signed in presence of our council of lords). CHARLuS R."' 75 , page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] A CHAPTER XXI. LORD RUDOL 'H'S DATA 5DLT ACT. Tau abrupt departure of the fiery noble caused a momentary excitement. The prince looked displeased. The' earl smiled haughtily, and young Edward Percy, recently become Earl of Percy, stole out after the noble. . But he had no sooner.reached the vestibule,' than he saw Lord Rudolph draw his sword, and with the flat of it strike Guilford, who at the- moment was walking across the corridor.. Our hero had remained a few moments in the cabinet to seal and address the letter to General Monk, and when he was returning to the hall, he met Lord Rudolph face to face. The latter, the way being narrowed by two columns, on recognizing 'im ried: 'stand aside, dog 1" Guilford's sword was in his hand, but recol- lecting that he was.the b,!ther of Lady Kate, he suppressed his rising resentment, and was pass- ingebim, when, as- we have, said, Lord Rudolph struck him in the face. ",Npw, by the rood I" said young Edward Percy, as he beheld the blow, "if Guilford-stand, this, he hath caitiff's blood in him indeed." Guilford, however, kept his sword poittdown, and would have gone by him, when Rudolph spat upon him, accompanying the act with an epithetof derision. The forbearance of our hero was now at an end. He forgot Lady Kate's brother in his own insulter.. Throwing himself upon him, he took his sword from him and broke it upon the pave- ment, and then, with the eye of a lion, he glanced upon him with contempt, and was going into the hall, when the prince and several nobles rushed forth; having heard the scuffle. "What means this ? What is this drawing of swords in our very presence ?-The person of an ambassador is sacred. Guilford, you are under arrest 1" "Your majesty," said the young Earl. Percy, "Guilford is not to blame. Lord Rudolph in- sulted him, and he bore it; he then struck him, and yet he bore it; he then spat upon him; and your secretary took his sword from him and., broke it under his feet, as you see there I" Then it is Lord Rudolph Vane who hath done this discourtesy," said the prince;reddening with anger. "My"lord, I.supposed thowhadst come hither to us as a messenger of peace, not a maker of brawls." " I shall not give account of my conduct to one who has neither the right nor the power to exact it," answered Lord Rudolph, haughtily. " This to the prince's face !'" exclaimed Earl Percy, with a flashing eye. "Nay, Edward I We can forgive this nrude- ness. " , THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. "I would punish it, your majesty, but that he -bath but one hand, and it would not be taking hjm on fair terms," answered Edward. Lord Rudolph had kept his right arm wrapped in his cloak, a customn which he had followed ever since his recovery from his wounded wrist. He now thundered back, forgetting that Red Hand was present: "Thou liest 4" "rWhat-! But we will make thee show thy- self a liar 1" retorted Edward, and suddenly tearing open his cloak, he exposed the handless wrist. There was a shout of surprise from all around ; and Lord Rudolph, with his left hand, caught Edward's sword, and made a thrust so deadly at the young earl, that he would have run him through the body, but for the interposi- tion of Guilford, who received the point of the blade in his sleeve, at the imminent risk of hav- ing his arm pierced by it. "'This must be stopped, by our head !" cried Prince Charles. " Arrest Lord Rudolph !" But before he could be obeyed, the savage young noble bounded from the corridor, and leaping, into his saddle, spurred dway at full speed, followed by the cries of derision and scorn of the assembled nobles. . - "Now, by our halidom, my friends," cried the prince, "this unfortunate matter, if reported with distorted tongue in England, will do us 'a mis- chief and mar our fortune. He must not be suffered to embark and bear his' own tale until I have forwarded my messageo with the despatch- es. After my letter reaches our general's hands, Lord Vane can do no mischief, whatsoever he may say. Guilford 1" "Your majesty ..' "Prepare to proceed at once to London." "I am ready, your majesty." "Then.leave atone. You will find passage easy across the channel with the Delp ofgold. Hese is my pursb. You have the pacquet. Go,- and Heaven speed thee, and bring 'thee safely, back to us with good tidings. My Lord Villiers, please you see, that this hot-brained Lord Vane does' not take boat till Guilford hath'been full twenty four hours in his advance.". I will see to it, your majesty," answered the earl, who at once quited the prince's presence. In another hour, Guilford was on his way to the sea-side, mounted on a fleet steed, the letters of which he was the bearer being tied about him beneath his belt, which also held his well filled purse of gold. 77 He had to ride seven leagues before reaching the sea. He knew that he had ali-eady the start of Lord Rudolph, who still expecting to take back the prince's answer, had ridden to his ho- tel. Here he soon learned, by a visit from one of the prince's pages, that another bearer" had been selected by the prince. No sooner had'he been madesacquainted with the fact, than he called for his horse and servants, and was pre- paring to depart for the coast, when Earl Villiers met him at the door, and said'sternly;j "My lord, I am commanded by my prince to detain your lordship for twenty-four hotrs." "What ! am I a prisoner ?" demanded Lott Vane, fiercely, and turning pale. " That may be as you construe it. You are not to leave the town until twenty-four hours have passed." " This is unbearableI and you, of all men, my jailer !" "I see thou lbvest me not. But one cannot choose his friends or enemies in this world, my lord. In such cases we must be patient." Lord Vane looked at the earl as if he could annihilate him, and then returning to his apart- ments, paced his floor in suppressed rage. In the meanwhile Guilford spurred forward, and about' midnight, by the light of a bright moon, he came in sight of the shining water of the sea. His road terminated at a small hamlet composed of a few Dutch houses. lTot a vessel was to be seen in this harbor save the brigantide in which Lord Rudolph had come over, and which lay off waiting his return. This he was bound to avoid, lest he; should be too closely questioned, and after riding along the ecast four miles, he saw a lonely hut, and at a little pk- near it, a fishing lugger. 'This he sneeed&4 in hiring of the old man, and soon embarked'ito cross to England The 'wind was lit, but fair, and on the fourth day he landed near Oie mouth of the Thames, and detaining the' boat for his return,he hited a horse and rode onto London. He reached the nmtropolis just as the sun was rising ol the.morning of the fifth day since leaving the presence of his prince. Put. ting up at at inn near the Parliarnent house he inquired for direction to General Monk.- ' "What !"wilt thou list with him?" asked mine host. "It is said he pays well, though' hisarmy hath a beggarly look, and not a goon wife can keep an egg or a bit of poultry within Orcuit f ten miles about his catip. If'thowouldst join him, thou wilt find his headquarters at f I . T 4 f 4 IS rF 1 } i page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] 78 ' . HE YQIJ1G Smithfield; but if thou wilt wait an hour thou wilt see him go by here to his house, near St. James's palace, where he does business with the Parliament." " The Parliament are governed pretty much by the.genbral'g opinions, are they not'?" asked Guilford. "No, sir cavilier, for they don't'know exactly what' they are. The old. fellow is secret as a mason IBut at heart, we believe he is for our Charley overthe water, and would be glad to see the restoration." "And the people at large, do they, wish for the prince'?" "-Do they'? they would darken the very skies wiih their caps in the air, if he should come into London, to-day. Ah, he.is a brave prince, and we all love him. We dare to say so, now Crom- well's day is gone ; but once it was as much as an honest man's head was worth to speak about him." While Guilford was talking with the commu- iicative and loyal host, there was heard up the street a shouting of men, and then the clangor of a bugle, and a moment afterwards the cry on all sides : "Monk ! Monk ! Here comes the general I' Guilford's blood bounded. ;He was more in terested t hlan all others in his coming, and as he rode past, accompanied by half a. dozen field officers and -an orderly or two with a bodyguard of eighty horse bringing up the rear, he could not but regard with deep interest the man who held the reins:of the power of England, not for him self, but for the prince, his master.- Without delay he followed thetroop of horse and at length reached a stately: mansion, befor( which he saw General Monk alight and enter He was about,to pass forward .to ascend th steps, when he was put back by a dragoon, wh4 said. - "Not so fast, sir cavalier. No one enter here without an order-no they don't." * Guilford looked hard in the man's face, for h thought he rieggnized the voice. 'But a hug red beard and a 1erg 'moustache defeated a first his scrutiny. But the _man himself aide him In the matter, for, after regarding Quilfor attentively., he said in a gratified, chucklin, manner;, "What! is not this master Guilford Graham?'- ' Thou sayest truly," answered Guiiford "jbut if thou knowest me, do not speak it out s lod ~ "And dost thou not know me? I dare say I' look too warlike for you to see through me. I am Digby-four old friend Digbg !" ".Toby-Digby I Verily, you are no longer like yourself. Thou a dragoon'?" " Marry come up ! What would you have a man do? I got my head broke so often by Cromwell's troopers, that I learned the knack o; head breaking myself. So, what -with fighting' I got my blood up, and when Monk's sargents came down to our town 'listing, I was one o' the first to enlist. It's a brave life, so long as we don't have .any fighting. But, bless us ! they say you are with Prince Charles over the sea, and he has made a lord of you ." "The prince can hardly make lords where he is, honest Digby. I am glad to see thee such a changed man, and doing so well." "What art thou doing in .England, master Guilford .- "I.would see General Monk. Can you let me pass, forold companion's sake' " Marry, that will I. Go in ; and when thou hast done thine errand, wait till Iam off guard, and we'll haye a rare gossip o' bygones." With these words the trooper drewraside, and let Guilford pass. Going by severalofficers who - stood in the hall,,he came ,to an orderly, who e stood near an inner door, and said that he de- I sired to have a word of importance with the I general. t , Your name'?" d "it is of no consequence. Say I have letters - to, him from France." t.pon hearing this, there was a murmur in the , hall, of surprise and expectation.from the mili- e tary men and others in waiting, and 'Guilford , was scrutinized with egnrisity' e " A messenger from.France I A courier from o the prince I" went buzzing from lip to lip. S His excellency desires to 'ce you," said the. s orderly, re-aypearing after a moment's absence. Guilford, all travel-worn as he was, entered e- the apartment of the commanderin-chief of-the e army. The general bent his eyes upon him as t he came towards him, and then said courteously, d yet with animation; d "Did I understand my orderly aright? D g you bring letters from France'?" "Yes, your excellency, from the price" " ''rorg ;his majesty I" exclaimed general, ; with a look of pleasure. "ut how is this? o Where,'is I ord Rudolph 'Vane - S'He arrived,.and pIgeed your' letters in thie + S prince's hands, but, when the reply which I now bear, was ready, he .got into, some altercation with some of the nobles and others,}and gave some offence to the prince, who intrusted the letters to me, who hold' the place of his private secretary." " You'ai-e thenSir Guilford Graham ?" "At your excellency's service," answered our hero, as.he placed the'pacquet, which ie had by this time unbuckled from his girdle, in the gen- eral's hands: "I axe glad to see you and to know you. I have heard how the prince owes hisescape from England to your. undaunted courage and con- stat devotion.ntd '" Thus speaking, the general broke the seal of the letter and read it.. Guilford, who hadbeen at Paris knighted by the prince, in token of his gratitude, and who .also, at the same time, had received from thedrench king the' order of a chevalier, now marked closely each change in the expression of General Monk's countenance. Having penned the letter himself,he knew every line of it, and could clearly distinguish what the sentences were at which he frowned, and those which seemed to give him pleasure. At length he turned towards the secretary; and with a mixed expression of dissatisfaction and pleasure, he said : "Sir Guilford, do you know the contents of this letter'?" " I do, your excellence." "I am sorry the prince refuses to sign the cotditions, but it cannot be helped. We.must do as well as we can with what he says. It may satisfy the Parliament. But how left you the princee ?"' In good health, your excellency." "And the -arl Villiers, washe well? and the Barons Algernon and Catesby, and also my lord of Percy'?" " I left them all well, your excellency." "I hope soon to see them with their royal master all in England. What day did you leave the prince'?" "This is the fifth, your excellency." "You have made despatch. The Parliament is now in session. I am going thither. You must accompany me, Sir-Guilford. I will make known to them that the prince has sent a mees- senger to them." -"Yes, 'your excellency. There are duplicates of the letter you have, one addressed to yourself, andh other inscribe, as you perceive, to the Parliament." " This is very good. The seal remains an- broken, and it is addressed to the Parliamer t I will take you with me at once to the-hall. Your presence will 1o a great deal, as 4a courier from the king." The general then left the apartment, and passing though the saloon where his staf'were, called, " To horse 4" All was now excitement and .motion. Every gentleman hastened to his saddle. Digby, who resolved not to lose the opportunity of having a gossip of bygone times with his former acquain- tance, had kept a sharp eye on, the-door for some time. But when he saw him re-appear walking side by side with General Monk, and heard the general order horse to be brought to him, and saw the deference and honor which thecom- mander of the army paid to him, his amaze ent was so great as nearly to stupify him 'Wha aileth thee, 'manI" called'ono of h a comrades to him. "Are thine eyes going to quit thy head'? fall in with thy horse into the rank. Dost not hear that we are ordered to~fall in and trot I" Digby mechanically -obeyed the order., t he shook hisihead, and with a downcastlok,he said to himselfao "fMy gossip is all up. Master GiIlford h44 become a great man. -,.I heard b. was alord,* and it must be true." 'At the' door of the House of Commons, en-- eral Monk alighted and entered the hall seav4 g Guilford in the vestibule. When o k q that the Commons had still come to no dec and seeing that all hearts were for the prince, though not a lip dare utter hisname, e steod up and said: . Gentlemen, the time is come when England should have rest. No plan of, govermne t has been proposed. I will propose none; but I Jhave just placed in the hands of yo rp sident o thew council, a slip of paper, -on wbhfih ,Iec hastily written a line with a pencil : w" llrplease read it aloud, my Lord ,Annexey." Every eye was fiyed upon ths president. hearts throbbed. . ith lious expectation, Some thought It would give them the infora tion that the prince was privately in Lonon. Others, that General Monk himself .ad ta ten this method to make known his own intentopq of assuming the protectorate. The president, Here Guilford showed him a letter whiph prince had given him in casp it should be el for. 'I ' , "i , , . I page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. 81 however, soon removed all speculations by read- lng as follows:. General Monk desires to make known to the House of Commons that a messenger from the p$nce arrived in London this morning-" Here there was such a sensation and demon- strations of satisfaction so loud that the presi- dent could not proceed. At length, order and silence being in some degree restored, he re- sumed : "The messenger is the private secretary of his majesty, Sir Guilford Graham, and is now at the door of the house, waiting to deliver a letter of which he is bearer to the Commons." Upon hearing this, there was one universal shout that rose from the members of the House, - and cries of " Admit him ! Admit him !" were heard vociferously. As Guilford entered, bareheaded, and walked up the aisle, escorted by General Monk, nothing could exceed the delight and enthusiasm with which he was received. The members, says his- tory, " for a moment forgot the dignity of their situations, and indulged for several minutes in loud acclamations of applause." Modestly, yet firmly, the youthful baronet, Sir Guilford, walked up to the head of the hall and placed the letter in the hands of the president. The hill was silent as the tomb while the letter{ vas read. When it was concluded, or rather while he was reading the final sentence, all at once the House burst into onie universal assent of the king's proposals, and immediately a, vote was taken that the letter should be published. A vote of thanks was also passed to Sir Guil- ford ; and as all had heard of him as having been the person who had taken the prince to France, there was a twofold motive for their crowding around him ando.verwhelming him with con- gratulations. He was taken home to dine with General Monk and a large party of lords and gentlemen, and bore all his honors with a grace and modesty that won all hearts. The same evening he left London with the answer of the Commons and an invitation to the king to return and ascend the throne. The bearer of such joy- ful news, he could not obey the impulses of his love to turn aside to visit Castle Vane, and he hastened as fast as spur and wind could carry him, to rejoin his prince, and lay at his feet the triumphant results of his mission. Upon land- ing frogf- 'te fishing lugger, which had taken him safely back to Holland, our hero delayed only to reward the owrier of the boat, and then mounting his horse, which had been kept there in waiting for him, he took the road to the town where the prince held his little'court. - He had not ridden, however, but a league and a 'half, when a woman called to him from a wretched house on the roadside, and, asked him to cone in for one moment and see a man who was dying. Prompt to obey the impulses of humanity, Guilford dismounted at the low door and crossed the threshold. By the light which came in from a smali square window above a miserable truckle bed, he saw to his amazement, Lord Rudolph, lying. and in the last extremity of life. Upon seeing him thus prostrate, all resentment fled from Sir Guilford's bosom, and he spoke to him * in the kindest manner, and asked what he could do for his repose of mind ; for he remembered Lady Kate, and that this was her brother. . No sooner did Lord Vane hear Guilford's voice, than he opened his eyes and fixed them glaringly upon him. "What art thou come for!, Thou, of all, men !" he said, gasping. "Bring the Red Hand, and then I shall be well attended." "My lord, I am your friend ! Can I serve you!" "Who art thou ?" " Guilford Grahanm." "Yes. A knave ! Thou wouldst rob me of' my sister ! Thou hast bewitched her-thou and thy .mother ! given her love portions ! Avaunt ! I despise thee ! I spue at thee!l" "I am sorry, my lord, to see you lying here in this condition. How has it occurred !" But the nobleman had exhausted his strength in his last efforts to speak, and lay panting and. glaring fiercely at him., .- "His servant robbed l shot him near by," said the woman. " We found him.bleeding and insensible nine days ago, and brought him in, where he has grown worse ever since, and raves and curses fearfully." "Yes-I have cursed thee and Lord Villiers ! See ! One has robbed me of my hand !" and here he held up the inflamed stump of his wrist, and shook it at Guilford; "and the other .has robbed me of ihy sister !" "My lord, you should cease to think of wa iy matters," said Guilford, kindly. "Turn your thoughts heavenward, for methinks .that thou hast not many minutes to live." . "And these I will spend in cursing thee, and t telling thee how I hate thee. Thou a baronet!f Thou a prince's confidant ! Thou take my place as courier to the Parliament. I spit at thee ! 'Go and tell Red Hand the robber that I spent my last breath in cursing him and thee !" "My lord, I implore-I entreat, for thy sister's sake, make thy peace with Heaven "- But Guilford paused and said no more. The fallen jaw-the set eyes-the motionless face- all told him that death had claimed his soul. - "Poor man !" said the woman, "he is out of his misery's " Poor man !" ejaculated Guilford, "Ifear me he has but just entered upon his misery." Then reflecting upon the wonderful train of circumstances that had brought him to be pres. ent at the death-bed of Lord Rudolph, he gave directions to the woman about the care of the body, and'remounting his horse, galloped on to the next village. Here he laid the matter before the mayor, and left with him gold to have the body properly prepared to send to- 'England. Having performed this duty, which both love for Lady Kate and humanity prompted, he hastened forward on his important.mission.. Upon reaching the palace of the prince, his majesty was pacing up and down the corridor, with Earl Villiers in conversation, while several noblemen were lounging near in groups. No sooner was the rapid rider'recognized'to be Sir Guilford Graham, than his name was.repeated by twenty voices, and Charles,. stoppingiin his walk, waited to receive him, :,with his ,mWd extended in welcome. Passing by the eager nobles, Sir Guilford reached the king, and drop- ping on one knee, kissed his 'hand, and .then placed in it the letter of the Commons. The king tore the seal, and first read half through it to himself, when, seeing that it was all good . news, he read it aloud: " Therefore, we, the Commons of England do accede to your majesty's propositions with joy, and do invite your majesty to return to England and ascend the throne of your fathers, *nd we will ever be your majesty's loyal and faithful subjects, and ever pray for the health and life of your majesty as in duty bound." "First, let me embrace thee, my trusty friend and welcome bearer of such good tidings," cried the king, with tears in his eyes, clasping Guil- ford to his heart before all his nobles, while they rent the air with acclamations of joy, such as the Dutch palace and the honest Dutch people had never witnessed before. The earl also em- braced Guilford, and so did Edward, Earl of Percy. That day and night were passed in the most pleasurable enjoyment, and in the reception by the king of the congratulations of the author- ities of the town. -In a few days afterwards, King Charles and full two hundred lords and gentlemen left the town for the coast in an imposing cavalcade. Here a ship of war, the very Leviathan whkf' had been so:near capturing him, but which ba now changed masters, was waiting to receive him by the order of the Commons, and beanhim to the shores of England. : On the twenty.ninth! of May, 166o,o Charles entered London," says the history ofthat event, "-on his birthday. An innumerable conepo rie sof people Jined the way wherever he passed,,ad rent the air with acclamations. The'very skyf was darkened:withthe caps of the people, an& rent with their shouts of welcoxrie. They had been so long distracted by factions And'tyranhies, they .rejoiced with unusual enthuslasm,:tqsee the king once more seated in security . upon his' throne." 4 THE YOUNG FISh ERMAN. 1 Y , . ' , '3 ' . 'fitp""°" f ' " ° " «! . V L t ' S I f^ t { Y " i { . ' ,s page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] THE inhabitants of the little' fishing 'port of Brighthelmstone were one morning thrown -into no little emziterment bytlhe arrival of a. brigantine in the port, the sails ofwhich were: shrouded in. blackand the flag wreathed with 'crapewhile festoons , of it ,hung front mast : to 'aust. At length a boat landed;.and fremthersailors; after the ofmcer bad proceeded, to Castle Vane, the good folks learned that it contained the body of' Lords Rudolph whohad been.muidered in: Hol lanl and for who5s body 'the nariquis, his father; had sent. . A procession of boats escorted it to the land- ing below the castle, where it was received by the father of the young nobleman. The same evening it was placed in the family vault, and the ensuing moi-ning, the brigantine, firing a requiem of minute guns, slowly departed sea- ward. " This attention to the obsequies of my mis- guided son, I learn, from a note from Earl Vil- liers," said the marquis to his daughter, as they sat together in his cabinet, talking of the dead, " we owe to a Sir Guilford' Graham, the king's private secretary. Hast thou ever heard of this knight, my child, and knowest thou why he took this pains to honor my son ?" _ Lady Catharine's heart beat rapidly. She colored, and was about to make some confused reply, when he further added: " The Earl Villiers further says in his note that the king will hold a 'grand levee at the palace on the first Wednesday of next month and that he desires that I should be present, and accompanied by thee. But-" '"Buy what, dear fatherI" 't bNecomes-us to mourn for Lord Rudolph. "'Yet -we need' not enter intothe festivities. All :t1le friends of the king are, hastening r'to, Londdn'to do him homage." "True; and as Lord Rudolph was of the op- posite'side, I shall be looked to 'to make a more particular eqiressiOn of attachment to tlye crown." "You will then go, dear father ?'. "Yes. You may have everything ready." This permission filled the bosom of Lady Catharine with joy. She was young, beautiful and gay, and desired to see something of the world from which she had been so long shut out. "Besides," said she, "I shall see Guilford in London, for I learn he is in high favor with the king, and honored and loved by all men." With a happy heart the charming countess left her father to make preparations for the com-' ing visit to court. At length the eve of the great day of the king's banquet and levee arrived. London was THE Ot Nd FISHERMAN. crowded- with the nobility and their families. One spirit of satisfaction and delight pervaded all men'es minds. The Marquis of Vane and his daughter were at the mansion of the Earl of Villiers as his guests. The daughter of the earl, the fair Lady Jane, shone with surpassing radiance abbve 'all other maidens save Lady Kate. The two became very intimate, for they had known each other in earlier years. "And you are to marry to-morrow the hand- some Earl of Percy, fair Jenny ?" said Lady Catharine-to her, friend, as she was arranging a circlet of bridal dialnopds. "Yes ; and I am told' by my father that yOu are to marry.the brave Lord Astley." "Lord AstleyU! I never saw hi I" answered Lady Kate;-with great positiveness: ." Well, that is odd. Both my dear Edward and my father told me to-dsy thatlyou were to marry the noble Guilford, Lord Astley." "Guilfod, ,0o you :ay his name 'is?"' " Yes; but why do you blush so ?" "Did I " "Indeed, yourface tells the truth. So we are to have'a Lady Astley to-ihorrdw'ft the palace, as well as Lady Percy ?" "I aestre you, dear Jenny, it'is'a mistake' I do not know IJord Astley. I only was surprised at'the coincidence of a name." At thip inoment Red Hand, the tall and stly earl, came in, and'smiling upon his dknugh e asked "Lady Kate if she- had heard any n s from court that day in particular, No my lord. i have not been out to day." "Father !' 'exclaimed' Lady Jane, "did' ydh not 'tell Me that Lady Kate would probably niarry Lord Astley to-inord w ?" "Yes, I think I id," replied the earl smiling. "'It is a mistake, my lord." I do not know his lordship." "But are you not to be married to-morrow, fair lady ?" asked Lord Villiers, slily. "How did you hear this, my lord ?" she an- swered, in beautiful confusion. " From Edward, who is an intimate friend of Guilford Graham, who told him, as a great se eret, that it was all arranged, and that you were to be married to him before the king's presence, in Westminster, to-morrow." "(My lord, it is true ; but not to this Lord Astley." . "But suppose--no matter. I will not tell what I see he has kept a secret. I wishyou joy.. You will have a, husband'so worthy in Guilford Graham, fair Kate, that no nobility can emulate him." " Thanks, my good lord." 'Ah, I know all your romantic loves. Guil- ford, to whom I owed my life once, told me the whole story; and a creditable one it was to you. but hither comes Earl Percy. So I will leave him to entertain you ; forI have to attend on the king." "My lord," said the earl, as-he 'entered. "Is4t true that the 'king has appointed yon com- mandbr-in-chief and full admiral of the fleet 'i" " Yes, Edward he conferred the pbst upoi tne'yesterday, and next week I go-onboat ray flag-ship 'at Portsmouth; for we are- going to have war soon with Spaih. " What is' the'nathe of your flag-ship ?" asked Edward.' " The'Leviathan, our old' fi-end." "fHow'fortunes change in this life, ejaculated the ydung earl. "Do you know who I have chosen as ry se4 ond' in command ?" asked Lord Villiers' " No. It is likely the Duke of ent.?' "No. Lord Astley." "What, "Guilford ! I am overjoyed'. Do yu hear, Lady Kate ? How does it pieaseyou V" " Is it possible, my lords, that I have misttatu derstood you 'all thiitinib; and 'hat duilford Grahatn and' Lord" Astley, of whone I hear s much, ar4 oih and the 'saniepersone ' " Yes ; that is it," 'answered the"earl, with al ierry laugh. ""And'it is odd'fon are the last to know-that Sir Guilford wa# this 'mrnaning ennoW bled with the title of Earl' ' of"Astleg,,and'thy rank of post captain in thernavy."" ' . 'Ti joys and surprise ofTIndy'Rsate'werea- pressnel fathei- by er tears ttan by hbie smiles, though both struggled' fort'he mattety on'lii happy face. She felt that her constancy, as well as the-self sacrificing spirit of Guilford, had been amply rewarded ; and that after all she was to give her hand to a man her equal in rank every way, and one of the most popular men in the kingdom, who had the confidence of the king, the friendship of the nobility, and the respect of the people. Well might she say, as she cast herself into the arms of Lady Jane : " This is the happiest day of my life i" The next day the palace was the centre of the thoughts of thousands and tens of thousands, of every rank and degree. The nobility flocked thither to banquet with the king and behold him CJIPIER XIL- BQR VANE -AND LADt CATHARINE AT COURT. page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] 84 THE YOUNG FISHERMAN. in state elevated upon his throne. The masses ! right in the end, and ends sought through wrong came to see hip pass in'procession fromthe ban- doings will prove evil instead of good. quet hall to Westminster, where the bridals If our readers should ever visit the little fish- were to take place. ing town of Brighthelmstone, in Sussex, the ruins At five o'clock the ceremony of the marriages of the Castle Vane may recall to their recollec- commenced. First the handsome earl of Percy tions this story. If they inquire for the descend- led to the altar the lovely Lady Jane, daughter ants of Lord Vane, they will be pointed to Astley of Red Hand, Earl of Villiers. She was given Castle, a mile in the interior, where lives the away by her father, and the beauty of the happy present Earl of Astley, the lineal descendant of pair made a lively impression of pleasure upon Guilford Graham, the first earl of that name. the vast assembly. Over the gateway it will be seen that the arms Next advanced Guilford, Earl of Astley, lead- are a tower with two oars crossed, and the motto ing by the hand the charming and constant "LOYAL EN TOUT." Lady Catharine. At the sight of this pair amur- At the foot of the ruins of Castle Vane is an mur of approbation ran through the cathedral. ancient stone cottage, which any one will'tell The history of Guilford was well known, and a you, if you inquire, is "King Charles's cottage." thousand eyes sought'fo rest on the face of one If you go to the door and ask why it is so called, who had risen from a humble fisher's boy to be a stout fisherman in the yard mending his nett the confidant of his king and the peer of lords will answer, that many years ago, in " the old of the realm. In height, in comeliness of air, in Parliament times," the Prince Charles was hid commanding person, there was no high-born there one night before he got away across the baron of them all who were present who sur- channel. If you ask the man his name, he will passed him. tell you that it is Robin Rengivell, and thathe The king himself gave away the bride, and at is a descendant, iu the eighth generation, from the conclusion of the benediction by the venera- Robin and Anne Rengivell, who dwelt there in ble Archbishop of Canterbury, the sacrednessof the Parliament days, and Robin was one who the place did not wholly suppress very animated aided the king's escape. applauses and hearty wishes for their future If you go into the little graveyard, you will happiness. see a sunken grave-stone in one corner, on We have now come to the close of our story. which, with difficulty, you may decipher as For further information of events that followed follows : these times, our readers are referred to the pages ere lyeth ye body of Toby Digby, who of history. As a romancer, we have taken but a di ghting valliantly for his king and country. page out of its records, in which we have en- Peace to his ashes." f desvored to show that virtue,honor, probity and The descendants of Earl Red rand are still . courage, rightly directed by laudable ambition, among the noblest of England's aristocracy, and will bring a man to- the highest pinnacle of his it is an inexplicable characteristic of the race,- wishes ; and that to succeed in life, it is not ne- that every eldest son of the progressive genera- cessary to mark our'path with guilt, or mar it tions is born with a distinct impress of a minia with dishonesty. The right will always come ture red hand upon the inside of the left palm. THE END. Tr little seamstress sat alone inher chamber atthe hour of sunset, one summer's day, looking out from her half shaded window over the great green lawh that stretched across from the cot- tage in which she lived, to the pure white houses that nestled like so many birds'-nests, among the trees and shubbery, profusely growing upon the other side. The hour was the calmest nd the holiest in tile long summer day,-the only one in the whole twenty-four when Peggy used to lay aside her work, and sit idly by her open window, looking out at the fresh scene before her. Sitting idly, did we say ? No, no ; her thoughts were busy within Ar ; though she sat there alone, she was never -lonely. Her mind would paint for her pictures far exceeding in sweetness and dreamy beauty those before her eyes, and in her rich' imagination she lived .a life fewtothers %now aught of. She entered a' woi'ld'she could call all her own; or if It were peopled, she peopled' it with her own fancies. It had greener grass, and sent ip sweeter, purer fragrance from its flowers-than did thy world before her little win- 6 I dow. Its trees hung down their leaf laden branches nearer to the ground, so that she walked among their cool shadows, and hid her thoughts from the world within the quiet of their atmo- sphere, Peggy,-.-the little seamnstress,--was habitually a dreamer. Not that she ever let her fancy run wild with her reason, or suffered an oblivious mist to obscure from her every. dad' vision the realities thatcrowded themselves about her; yet she dwelt much in a fabled land they call dream- land, always happiest, and her face always beab- ing most brightly when she was off in the revels of her imagination. Yet the workings of her imagination were'ail gentle, and they threw such a holy light about her generally placid countenance, that people who looked at her as she, sat alone at her aham- ber window just at summer eve, or. in the village church, when the hartnonies of song carried off her soul to theglories'of other realms; felt that she was a different being from theta ' and that she was almost too pure, too sare4st earth. + N N '1I [PROM GLEAsoNI PICTORIAL DRAWING-Egon COMPANION ] PEGGY DAAWESON. BY GEO. CANNING HILL. :1 A t \ p t'/l " tJpp t s 7 page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 86 PLEGGY I Her form was delicate and fragile. She was an orphan, and had for many years been so ; and when she tripped gaily along on the fresh, green sward from house"to house, or stopped by the garden wall to-pluck an ambitious 'rose that had climbed just high enough to peep over into the street and get a look at the outer world, peo- ple all thought, "Ah, how happy we.should be, could we only enjoy what little Peggy Dawson does I" No one ever imagined that she couldbe any the less happy, because she did not have a large surplus of this world's goods of which slye might boast ; no one ever thought, in thinking - ofher, that the possession of money, and the long- ings and cravings after happiness, had aught to do with each other. For some five or six years, the little seamstress had now been at her occupation. In its rounds she found enough work with which to satisfy her wants, and leisure enough to gratify her most romantic desires. We say romantic, because we mean romantic. In fact, and to. eoncehl the truth no longer, Peggy Dawson was a romantic girl, so far as the, estimation of the village was concerned. She was romantic to them, because their optics were not suited to the inspection of her fine nature. 'Whenever she left her work at evening or intruded some little upon its exac tions at early morning, that she might r o and perform with her blessed mite, some ch Writabl deed among the poor, people generally were to apt to associate her charities in their minds witl their own sordid and selfish eilpulations. The3 thought she visited the poor that she might pos sibly be the gainer in the end, by an exhibitio of hercharities. They set a pecuniary price of her every good, deed and -lind and affectiouat expression, as if she allowed her soul to chaffe in coldness about the commonest charities tha so felicitously illustrate the history of some mem bers of the greatahuman family. No-no ! non of them understood righly the heart of the little seamstrels,-r-albeit they all envied her hersmi ing countenance, her airy walk, and the pus happiness that -always seemed to encircle hi like a dreamy halo. Little'Peggy Dawson wi much more of a character in her native villas than mauy--many others, whose worldly circus stanceswere far better. . The seamstress, we said, sat all alone in hit -little chambers on the-aummer evening .to whit we Faye made reference, resting her chin upo the.palm of her left hand, and her elbow up the window-sill, thinking over the good in h )AWSON - little world that was yet left undone, and trying to project much more kindness that remained to be done, while the slanting rays of the setting sun streamed through the leaves and the shub- bery into her room, when she thought she heard a light step at her door. , - She had but little company there, and what she did have, were mostly of that kind that called not for' any social purpose, but to transact ne- cessary business, or attempt to pry into her se- crets. "Come in !" sweetly called out the voice of the seamstress. The door, slowly and carefully opened, and the lady with, whom she boarded entered the room, holding a paper in her hands. "1I thought you might be lonely this evening, just as twilight was about to come on," said Mrs. Gray ; " and so I came in to sit a few min- utes with you. This is a lovely evening, Peggy, isn't it ?". "O, yes indeed," responded the little seam- stress, her eyes ever open to catch the glorious ' sights of beauty that nature spreads out so lib- erally before us; "yes, indeed; I enjoy the cool f evenings so much ; they remind me so much of" t heaven'! There is such a quiet, too, in the air, - that I almost breathe more softly, for fear of dis- turbing th calm thoughts that crowd upon my e mind, at this time."° o " You enjoysitting atyour window, I suppose," said Mrs. Gray. y " Indeed I do," said Peggy ; the little world before it only suggests the thoughts of another a world beyond these tees and-that line of sky; n and I grow more happy in thinking of the clear e skies, and cool shades, and gentle winds that will r greet me in that other world beyond l'' t " Here is the paper from Bostow, to-day," said a- Mrs. Gray; "I thought that perhaps you might e like toget alook at it: .you know it's little plea- le sant to know once in a while, in a quietlittle vil- 1- lage like this, tliat there is a worldoutside of us, re where other people lives and labor, and die, all er unknown to us.", as Peggy's father had been a sea-captain. He, ge had a son and a daughter, Willlkm and Peggy. a- He died, leaving both his children with no money, afterhis.own debts were liquidated, andhad given er up in fact all hopes, when he lay on his death- ch bed;'that William was then alive. , n- William went to sea a couple of year before on his-father's death ; and as no-tidings had reached eit his friends concerning him singe his departure, it 87 was the universal belief that he had been lost, at least, Peggy thought that she~had not anear rela- tivelivingn the world. The few letters of- his which she had in her possession, were letters he had written her after leaving his parent's roof, and while waiting the approach of the day on which he was to sail. These she treasured like rare jewels, and continually read them, morning and evening, day and night, as if they could afford a gleasm of real, heartfelt consolation to the poor, lonely orphan girl. Mrs. Gray sat some time with Peggy. When she went down again, Peggy took up her paper, and commenced glancing it over. All that lookedlike news, especially shipping news, she devoured with eager interest. ' Then she looked in the'list of deaths, and then ran her eyes over the chapter of accidents and incidents. But no tidings from any one bearing the name of Wil- liam Dawson ; not a single- solitary syllable. Had the busy world forgotton him ? . Had he not a place with other men upon its theatre? Were. not his services as valuable as those of other men ?-she reasoned to herself. Yes, Peggy;. you reasoned rightly, because you only obeyed the human rules of reasoning ; you loved a lost brother, and that brother was as dear'to you as others',relatives are totheir hearts I Finally the little seamstress cane to the column of advertisements -headed " wants." Not that she thought that any one' in the outer world, away froi her quiet little village green, could be in want of services she might better render than any other person ; but because only she wished to learn what people were doing, and how they' were living, and 'what their occasional wants might be; as if mayhap they ought, in the-nature of things, Itobe any different from the wants of. those who do not live in. large cities, but are hedged in by the rows of elms and maples that set the limits to their village, and by the indis- tinct line of sky that bounds all the practical- world with which they have'any acquaintance. As she read and read along, her eye kindled at reading the following advertisement:-- " WAnnD.T-Nine or ten active 'and skilful females, as seamstresses in alarge establishment, to whom the most liberal wages will be given, if they can be permanently hired. Apply at once ant o. -H street, Boston." -Apply at once I" repeated Peggy, after read- ing it overto herself. "i wonder if I could do any'better there than -herein this little village. Myearnings here are very small;:and thoughto. PEGGY DAWSO. be sure, I get myself a living, and have -a mite for making glad the'hearts of others, stillI have a mind to go to the city and see if I cannot do better there. They always say that better wages are paid, there ; and I do -not believe that my- expenses would be much more than they ate here." ' \So she mused ; sand so she was -musing with her paper lying in her lap, and her head resting on her hand, while she sat gazing out from hey window upon the green, when we caught glimpses of her through the deep shubbery that h'alfeon- cealed her. We thought her an uncommonly beautiful girl. The rose was on her che~e, and the light lay hidden in her sparkling eye.- Her long, raven locks fell in rich and luxurious ringlets over her fair shoulders, looking-themselves surprised that they should be permitted to come in contact with such marble whiteness. There was a classic shape to her head that one could not but observe at-firet sight. In fine, she was evidently a creature formed for a higher and better destiny than the drudgery of the workshop. The little seamstress lay awake long after she had retired that night, thinking of the prospects of a city life. Already she had:counted her whole annual receipts, and if anything, s great deal more too, and hil gone into a careful arith- metical computation of al. her increasing-expen. ditures. She thought that she could do'better in the city, and full of the thought, she composed herself for a night's sound sleep. But sleep was a long time coming. Her eyes were never in- clined to be wider opened, and her brain never seemed to be so busy with its plot and plans as. then. She had pretty much made up her mind, in fact, before she could get 'to sleep,.that on the next day but one after, she would get into the morning stage, and without itnparting a knowl- edge of her errand. to any one, would settle the question of moving permanently, by going di- .rectly to see the advertiser at his own establish- ment. When the morning of the day came on which she was to stgrt, she was stirring early in her little chamber; the windows were wide open, and the room all placed in perfect order long before the hour for breakfast. Her reticule was crammed -full of the many small notions 'for which she thought she might possiblijhave some use before her return, and her travelling:dress never seemed to fit so snugly to her neat little form before. 7 t I t r ti page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] 88 PEGGY DAW ON Presently the sharp crack of the coachman's whip sounded.under the old elms.on the green, and the coach-wheels were making their marks in the soft award-in front of the door of the cot- tage. The door of the coach flew open,.the steps were piled down, Peggy with her reticule, was inside, and with another crack of the drivier's- long lash, all, were rolling smoothly away to- wards athe great metropolis. - This was the source'of new life to the feelings of the little seamstress,--this riding off at early morning in the mail coach. She had been used to sit all the long day alone, seeing no change, nothing to excite her spirits, having nothing broken or uninterrupted in her prospect to look - at. She grew tired with the monotony, or at least she thought she had sometimes felt tired of it, when she looked back at it from her seat in the each, just as it was, day after day, and week after week, the same constant round of occupa- tion,--no rest,-.no change. How-her spirits danced with the motion d% the' coach, as she rolled swiftly by sweet little cot-' tages,- all hedged about with roses and haw- thorn, and snuffed up the air that was so deeply laden with the fragrance of the lilac blossoms held out.like huge bouquets, by the clumps of bushes that stood in almost every yard! What a different life'she thoughthe was in, and how strangely new looked tge faces by the road-side, that she had seen daily in the village, but had thought little of ! She became delighted with her. ride, and almost-wished that she could ride in a good, large, rocking mail-coach every day of her life. She even ceased wondering why it was that so many people travelled about as they did.' She for one, in the exuberance of her de- light, thoughtsheshould like to travel all the time. And so thinking, on she went at a rapid pace to Boston. - She called duly on the person who had inserted his advertisement in the paper for seamstresses, and found, to her surprise, that the wages he. offered were even better than she had at first dared to imagine. It took her not long to de- cide .in the matter, and in less than half an hour's time she had engaged herself to the pro- prietor -fghe establishment as seamstress in his employ. She was to come to Boston the first of the next week.,, When she-returned to the village that night, she narrated all her success, perhaps giving it as much of the coloring as a feeling of self-satisfac- tion generally allows one to give to his or her narrations, and setting'more than one to won- dering how she happened to be so successful at the first trial. But no matters Peggy had procured herself :an excellent place, and was to leave all her friends behind her on Monday. Monday morning at last came. ' She sat long and silent at her little chamber window on that morning, for it was the last she should spand in the village for she could not tell how long As she cast her eyes over the neat door-yard,, filled up as it were almost with all sorts of beautiful shrubbery, and stretched her gaze over the dew- begemmed lawn, on which, in her innocent child- hood, she had sported so many hours, the crystal tears welled their unbidden way up, and ob- scured as with a liquid veil the entire prospect. She did not think she could have loved any place so well. The people looked dearer to her than ever, as they stepped across the green, al- though many of them had been wont to pass her windows from day to day, almost unnoticed by her. Then she began to realize what it was to love home. The next day she was at her work in Boston, trying, by every means, to drive away the sad thoughts of home, that seemed determined to crowd themselves upon her. It was severe work?!. but she accomplished it. Each day she felt more at ease in her new situation, and 'was certainly made the happier by knowing that after her week's wor was over she could have something laid aside against future disasters. Her room in her boarding-house'seemed the very picture and copy of the one she had left in her native village. Everything within it was ar- ranged with the finest taste and the most perfect skill. There stood-her table in the middle of the room; there was her dressing-table beneath the mirror, and with the same bunch of flowers stand- ing in the wine-glass upon it. There hung-the miniature of her beloved parents,-now gone to their last sleep, and there was the wreathofever- greens against the naked wall,-the same she had arranged for her room in the country. Her books stood just in the position in which they used to, and her chairs stood on either side of them as of old. In fact, had one of her country friends popped into her room, she would hardlyhave been able to know she was in Boston, save from the sound without 'in the streets. - The little seamstress was no less benevolent than she used to }e. Now she delighted herself with doing deeds of charity before forbidden her by her limited resources. When she had.got PEGGY DAWSON. 0 * through her day's work, she would go into the street, and make trifling purchases of some poor apple.woman, or flower girl, as pretext for get- ting from them passages of their history, and.to inquire into their circumstances, in the hope that she might relieve them in some way. Wherever in her neighborhood she learned that a person was sick, and that any attentions- of hem's would be likely to alleviate the suffering, and smooth the pillow of pain, she was ready to go. She had carried the title with those who knew her, of" the angel of the sick." Her hands were open to kind deeds in every sick chamber. No one ever had to apply to her for consolation, if she knew aught of their distresses. She was tripping gaily home from the shop ona night,-it was not more than a month and a half from the time of her first entering the estak- lishnent,-when a little girl came running up to her side, as she went along, and said in an art- less voice :--- "Please, ma'am, mother wished me to tell you that there was a sick woman down at our house, and wished yo would come over there as soon as you could . --' "Yes, dear," answered Peggy, when she had' fully comprehended the place to which she wouldI haye her go ; "after I have 'gone, home a mo.- ment, I will come right down to your mother." Anid Peggy hastened away'tp her quiet room, to put up her things and arrange the many articles that would from time to time get out of their places.'f In a few moments the little seamstress was at 1 the door of the lady who had sent for her. Shef was a friend of Peggy, and had often ministered t with her to the wants of the same sick. Nhec knew whatiPeggy was in' the sick-room; how l handy she was in her every movement ; how gentle were her actions ; what inexpressible looks of thankfulness the sick had cast on her, wIllie she walked softly about their room; and what an angel people all thought her, who had seen her in the performance of her charities. : k The lady led the seamstress into the next room, and motioned to her to approach the bed. c "She 's asleep now," said the +woman, in at whiper.- The sight was that of a woman, lying sick I upon a bed in the farther part of. the room. a The window was open just a little, letting in' k only a trifle of the fresh breeze that stopped but a momeAt to wanton with the snow-white cur- tain. The sun threw into the quiet room a v 89 stream of his golden rays, that formed bars through the innumerable motes of dust that were floating about above the floor. The hour was the holy and calm hour in which the little seam- stress was ever wont to give the rein to her mu- sings. TJe calm, the sick person in the farther part of the room, her suppressedrespiration, the yellow sunset, the feelings that came to the breast only at this sacred time--'all made the seamstress peculiarly sad and thoughtful. "fTell me about her ?"- said Peggy, addressing her friend. " I will," aflswered the woman. " Only day before yesterday, a young looking man came to see me, saying that he was recommended here by a friend of mine, and soliciting, me most earnestly to take him and his wife here to' board for a short time, or at least, until she should grow better. I asked him if his wife was sick. He answered that she was ; 'and that having brought her by sea all 'the way from South America-i forget what port' he "Said he nailed from-her sea-sickness had rathertinereased than - diminished the danger of her disease." " What is her'complaint ?" interrupted Peggy. "Her husband said that she had lokg been laboring 'under the' attacks of consumptiveness before she Came here He married her, I believe, he said, in South America. She is an American lady, and seems rejoiced t -have reached. her native country again, Fearing that .she night not live longer than time enough to bring'her here, and have her -see her friends once more before she-died, he took passage in a vessel direct for Boston, and had arrived only day before yes- erday, when he discovered that the voyage had only retarded; rather than favored her conva- escence." " Hush-husk!" whispered the seamstress ; "she is' uneasy ; I wonder if I can do ,nothing for the poorwoman 2" - " I do not know," answered the -lady ; "if anybody can 'do any good in a siek-r60m, I know that you ban,' Miss Dawson." "Well, I only attempt to exercise the same harity with the disposition of whi 'I was en- rusted," answered the good'little s "red". "I'll tell you' what I wanted of , Miss Dawson," said the lady; "but I fear it will be king too much of bone -who has ever been so kind as you have been to the sick." " What isitfV' quickly asked Peggy. " Why, her'husband and 'I took turns, at watching last night, ,'nd to-night we have'no is t r r, I " i a S y it 4 C page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] PEGGY DAWSON. 9 90 , PEGGY DAWSON. watchers. Were to go and get them, I'm sure I cannot tell. Now I thought ,that if you were willing to sit up the greater part of the night with this woman, it would be rendering me a very great: service, indeed ; not to speak of the gratification I know your many tender attentions would afford this poor sick woman."' "I'll sit up, certainly," said Peggy, in a mo- ment ; " I'd rather do-it than not. I'll sit up willingly the whole night, and-you need to get no one to watch with me. So depend 'upon me, and-I will be back soon ;" and almost in the middle of an intended sentence, she left the room and the house for her own quiet little chamber. " How much trouble, and trial, and sadness, and sickness, there is in the world," said Peggy, quite aloud, as soon as she had got within her repm andshut the door. Yes, Peggy ; there is misery, and penury, and sickness,,and suffering enough in this rough, un- feeling world ; but fe* there are, who, like your- self, are willing to condole with the unfortunate and bolster up thesinking spirits of the wretched., God has endowed and trained-few such feeling souls as thine. Evening came. It was quite dusk. The lampswere not lit- in the streets, bt just-after eight-of the clock, the ,full-iced moon lifted its golden circle above the eastern horizon, drawing every triaveller's eyes toits incomparable beauty, and lighting up the earth with a bright flood of refulgent beauty. The little seamstress sat a few 'moments at her window, watching the steady tide of passers that set in from one end of- the street and flowed to the other, and musing upon the old days she now called happy and innocent; which were passed in her native village-when bethinking herself of a sudden of her engagement she'had made for the night, she hastily threw on ,her bonnet and light shawl, and hurried out of the house to the residence of the sick woman whom she called to see just before supper. She. entered the' room in cnpany with the lady, and walked up towards the bed. A young man sat by the bedsideof the sick person, hold. ing her ji.,=in histown. It was ier husband. " I h . ased this lady to witch with your wife, to night," said the lady; "and can answer that the-care she will take of her will be perfect- ly gratifying to your tenderest wishes." ".I thank the young lady, very much," replied the young man ; "I onlyhope that I may have it in my power to requitee her for ,ier kindness." " You need hope no such thing, sir," said Peggy, in one ofher sweetest tones; "I love to assist the sick at all times ; and if I can do any- thing,-no. matter what,-the least thing for your sick wife, until she recovers, sir, I shall be most glad to do so. I hope I really love to do all the good in my power, sir.r " God less you !" exclaimed the young man, warmly, showing that every syllable he uttered was heartfelt and sincere ; "God bless you, in- deed," said he. " Ah, yes !" faintly murmured the poor woman on the bed ; "I am weak,-very weak!. I know . I cannot live !" " 0, Emeline !" said her husband unhappily. " But, no ; I cannot expect to live very long ; and I would, before I depart, that God would bless this dear girl,'for her proffered kindness to me." , ' "But I know he will !" answered the husband to his wife. "Yes-yes !" said the meek and resigned.wife. The little seamstress sat herself down in a rocking-chair, near the' bedside of the sick wo- man, and, entered into' a conversation with her about almost everything that- could possibly in- terest her, and tend to draw away her attention from her apparently fast sinking condition, She- talked of home and its greenr lawns, and high: climbing rose bushes. She painted, with her words, pictures that had hung up about the walls of her memory for years. She told of her early loves; of her endeared brother,;. of her sweet sisters, now resting undisturbedly beneath the sod ; and seemed most completely happy, when she was calling back to her mind again, the scenes of her innocent, thoughtless, joy-crowded childhood. In all these matters she found a ready listener, and a warm sympathiser, in the person of the good little seamstress. Night came on. It was a still, breathless, cloudless, moonlight night. The young husband had retired to his bed with fatigue, leaving Peg- gy to sit up with his wife, aaci desiring to be alarmed at any time,when his services should be needed. 0, what a time is night ! what a night above all others was this to the little seamstress There was no one beside her in the room but the sick woman. She had long since talked herself to sleep, and there Peggy sat by her bedside,'alone and musing. The moon shed-its placid light upon the floor, * just sweeping, in its entrance into the window, the foot of the invalid's bed. The world without was all still. Not even a cart or a wagon;rum- bled or rattled -along the pavement, by which Peggy might have known that there was a crowded, wakeful, gay world around her. Her thoughts involuntarily leapt up into the sky, and read upon the face of the moon the imaginings with which she delightedher soul. She dreamed herself, though she was awake. Early days, a father and a mother, green grasses, bunches of flowers, blue and unclouded skies,--all these shifted their sweet appearance across her memo- rx, like a moving panorama, and she sat still for - a long, long time, giving herself up to the direc- tion of her reflections. The stillness around her drove her thoughts in upon themselves, and sit- ting just where she did, and at the precise time she did, it is not to be wondered at that she re- verted to days long gone by. She thought, of a sudden, that she heard a scream. She started from her chair, and bent over the sick woman. She leant her ear down to her mouth ; she groaned again. Peggy waked her this time, so distressing was'the sec- ond groan. " What will-you have ?" asked the little'seam- stress, almost in a whisper. "What ?" asked the sick woman, more than hialf asleep. "What shall I get ,you ?" -again asked the seamstress. "0, nothing !" she faintly answered, and gasp- .ng as if for breath ; " I have4dreamed that I should be called away in a few moments,-I feel that I am going now ! Yes-I know I am ! Where 's William ?" said she, hurriedly ; " call William! I must see him once more ! 0, how, hard it is to breathe ! I feel as if I was smoth- ering! Wont you open the window, darling ? I will thank you so much !" ' The little seamstress flew to raise the, window, and then without a word or a syllable further, softly stepped across the hall and knocked at the door of the sick woman's husband. She returned to the bedside of the invalid, and administered to her every little thing that she thought would tend to her comfort. And while waiting butfor a moment for her husband, she sat and fanned a breeze of fresh air over the brow and temples of the' sick woman, s she lay, upon the bed. When the young man -came into the room in his dressing-gown and slippers, and had learned from Peggy how his wife felt, he went up to her bedside, and taking her hand said:. -° . ., " Emeline ! Do you feel worse '" " 0, yes !" she gt'oaned out, in asingle breath. " Yes, indeed ! I feel as if I must die,:Williamn! Lift up the curtain of that window higher, and let me see the' moonlight again, for the sun I shall never look at even once more ! Yes,, Wil- liam, I must go soon ! I only wished to te you once more, first !" - "Emeline ! Emeline l" said her husband, s if he would chide her for her very feelings; "But .I cannot help it, William ; I know it! It is so ;-yes, yes ! Take my hand, William; I am growing blind ! The moon has all gone out, hasn't it, William ? I cannot see;-.-.tell me !" " No, no, my dear !" interrupted, her husband. " 0, 1 wish you would lay your hand on my heart,-it beats so ! What makes me so dizzy, wonder ! Everything swims to nay eyes, yet I know I am not blind, for I can see the moon shine in on the foot of my bed ; but it is paler than it used to be, isn't it, William ? *Put your cheek to mine, now, William ; 0, mine feels so very cold ! Is this death, William ? Do they call it death ? I wonder .if everybody feels so when they come to die 1" " Do not talk so, Emeline !" said her husband. " I shall not talk long at all, William," said she. " Emelinb! Emeline !" said her husband. The little seamstress sat on the opposite side of the bed from that on which the young hus- band stood, bathing the patient's temples with the saturated cloth she held in her'hands. "You'll remember, William !" exclaimed the wife ; " you'll remember i I thank you,-I thank you !" said" she, turning towards Peggy. "0, William! If I could only have -lived till-- But it's all over now, almost ! The waters look dark, -but I can go across safely ! I do not fear their roaring, William ; I shall soon be on the other shore ! Good-by, William! Good" The words never were finished. They died in the act of being spoken. The poor woman dropped her lean 'and pale hands down by her side, as if she were all wearied out with her work, and quietly, and surrounded by a heaven- ly calm, breathed her last breath on earth, Her husband and the little seamstress stood for a long time, gazing at the lovely expression that wreathed the bow of the corpse, before either spoke. Then the husband turned his head away, an4 ? ry .{ 7 1 . 3 ,3 -T Y i .', 4 S l i; , page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] 92 PEGGY DAWSON. -gave way to a drenching flood of tears. And the good little seamstress looked out through the window at the midnight moon,,and thought how soon she would be;called to lay herself down and breathe her life out just as sweetly. "She is gone 1" finally spoke the bereaved httsband. itYes, she rests !" exclaimed Peggy. "Who may I thank for the tender care shown her this last night of her existence ?" asked the husband. "I have not done, sir, one half.the good I wish I could have done ; but Peggy Dawson is always glad to succor the sick." "'Peggy Dawson I" exclaimed the stranger, in astonishment. * Yes,-I am she," answered the little seam- stress. " Mr SISTERs I My own sister !r exclaimed he, rushing to her and folding "her in his arms ; " I am, I am William Dawson,-your long, long lost brother !" Brother and sister,-each an orphan,-now embraced each other over the dead body of the young wife, at that calm and holy hour of mid- night. It was a strange place for a brother to find' his sister, and a stranger scene for a sister to witness-the death of her brother's wife. But that was the spot Heaven had designed where they should again meet after many long years' absence, and weep in united sympathy over the remains of'the dead. This was an eventful leaf in the life of the good little seamstress. 0 * " BY DR. J. H. ROBINSON. CHAPTER - I. Two persons, well mounted, were riding through the little town of Kurnbach. Both were young, well formed, and apparently in good crcumstances. From their strong resem- blance it was easy to perceive that there was some relationship existing between them. " This must be's lonely place to live in," said the eldest, whom we will call Frederic Raymon. "Lonely enough," replied his brother Hans. "If I wished to turn hermit, I think I should. come here. But there,are other parts of Kurn- bach more'thickly populated than this. We are in the most broken, rugged,' and uninhabited part now."- "I know it; but look yonder; upon the most desolate spot of all stands the largest dwelling I have seen in Kurnbach." "It is probably the residence of some peasant who owns grounds the other side of the moun- tain," replied Hans. "If he owns lands the other side of the moun- tain, why did he not build his house there? Why should a human- creature select suph a spot to pass his daysaon?" "That I know not; but here is an hones- looking lad, let us ask him to solve our doubts." "Agreed. Young man, can you tell us what -person lives yonder in that large, building ?" " He is called George Beman," replied the lad. "What is his employment?" asked Frederic. " I do not know." "Do you not live here ?" "Yes, just over the hill, yonder." "That being the case, it seems to me that you ought to know what your neighbor 1)eman does for a livelihood." "He don't work, sir." "'Don't work?" "No person has ever seen him do any work since he has been among us, sir." "Then he's a nan of fortune, I suppose ?" "Can't tell you; he keeps his business all to himself." "What character does.he bear among you?" " He is kind to all, and has been known -to assist the poor in the neighborhood. He is rather retired in his habits; and to tell you the truth, sir, we know but little about him." " He is rather a mysterious personage, then? [FROM GLEASON'S PICTORIAL DRAWING-ROOM COMPANION.] IVA, OR THE TWIN BROTHERS. , r r' 1 c l /S J( I { page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] 94 THE TWIN: "That's it, sir, exactly." " Has he asy children ?" " One daughter." "Does he keep servants ?" " Only one." " Then there are only three persons who oc- cupy ~that gloomy-looking, building. -Is the daughter young and fair?' -" She is only seventeen, and the fairest maiden in Kurnbach. All the young men who have seen her have fallen desperately in love with her." "Thee re must have a care that we do not get sight of her," laid Hans, laughing. "I'd advise you to, sir, by all means; for it's not likely she'll take a fancy to either of you!" "Very flattering indeed! Perhaps you have made an impression on the fair one's heart ?", "iI dare say I might, but I don't think j shall try," returned the peasant, gravely. . " Very cool, upon-my word," said Hans. The peasant went his way, and the brothers rode on. "I almost wish," added Hans, "that some accident woutdlhappen to throw me in the way of yonder churl's 'dightet" Scarcely had Mans uttered the words, when his horse stprhbled, audhe was thrown forward oc sr his head. Freeric hastened to dismoun gpto his relief. He found him insensible asdtunable to stand when he raised him from the ground. Sitting down beside him, and taking his head upon his knees, he chafed -his temples and his hands ; but he strove in vain to restore himnto consciousness. Finding.that his efforts were useless, and the he was losing time, he lifted his unfortunat brother in his arms,,.aod being a strong man borehim, with little difficulty, towards the dwell ing of George Beman. " HIcannot refuse to give me assistance unde circumstances like these, be he ever so churlish, said Frederic, as he toiled up the ascent towar the house. He knocked loudly on reaching the door '.the summons was answered by a person so ver different in his appearance from what he ha pictured, that for an inStant he was unable t utter a word. The man who produced this unexpected astoi ishutent was about thirty-eight years of age. H features and bearing, sofar from being forbidding and churlish, were mild, open, and even han some. BROTHERS. "An unfortunate occurrence has made me intrude myself upon you in this unceremonious manner," said Frederic. "Heaven forbid that I should refuse to render all the aid in my power to the distressed. Let, me relieve you of a portion of your burthen. A fall I perceive-from his horse most likely;- bear him this'way." Hans was soon deposited upon a couch, and receiving every attention, while the domestic was despatched to the village for a surgeon. Under these kind attentions he soon recovered his con- sciousness. When the surgeon arrived it was found that his arm had been broken, and he had sustained other severe injuries, and that if his hurts healed well, and everything took a favor- able aspect, it-would be impossible for him to resume his journey under several weeks. "Giveyourselfno uneasiness on that account," said Beman to Frederic, whom this intelligence affected considerably. " You can pursue your journey when it pleases you, and it shall be my care that he wants for nothing that can conduce to his recovery." P Finding that his presence could not in the least facilitate the curative process, he resumed his journey on the following morning. I Hans awoke from a deep .sleep, which had t lasted nearly all day. The first object that met , his gaze was the figure of a foung female seated near his bed. g Hans rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, and, s then took a- second and longer look. The in- e pressions which he received from this s$$utiny were most favorable to'the lady in question, who t was wholly unconscious at that moment thatnshe- e was the object of so much attention. . , " She's wondrous fair," said Hans to himself. L- "I think I have never seen her equal. What eyes ! what a face ' what a figure i If my neck r is not broken, I am certainly the most fortunate of men." d Hans attempted to tun.to. get a better view of his attendant. Tbeeort produced so much, r. pain that he groaned heavily. The eyes of the 'y -maiden were instantly directed towards her pa- d tient, when seeing his attention so earnestly fixed o upon her, she reddened to the forehead, and looked confused. - n- '4 You are \the daughter of my kind hostI_ is presume," said Hans, driving the expression of, ig -pain from his features. "Do not be alarmed at d- my unmanly groans. I moved my arm incau- tiously." - THE TWIN'BROTHERS. "I fear you are dangerously injured, sir; can I serve you ?" asked the maiden, timidly. " It was an awkward fall, but I trust my ill- ness will not be of long duration. A little water, if you please." t Fairer hands never poured water for a mor- tal," said Hans to himself, as his gentle nurse filled a glass with the pure, sparkling beverage first used by man. " Thank you;, I think I shall soon be well." " Shall I call my.father 9' o b e Before Hans had time to reply, the person spoken of entered the'-room-. witHow fares myguest to-day?" he asked, with a kindly sd iled " He is doing, better than he deserves," said Hans, "and cannot be too grateful for such care- ful attention."' "The debt of gratitude will not be great. Some day I may take a notion to go into that part of the country were you reside? and break some of my, bones, and then it will come all right; though you would in that event, no doubt, be troubled with me longer, for being older, my flesh will not heal so readily as yours. It takes young blood, you know, to heal ;bruises, ;frac'1 tures and contusions speedily. But I forgot to introduce you to my daughter." " "I shallnever be}sufficiently'grateful to your fair daughter," returned Hans, embarrassed, heJ knew not why.- "We aI have duties tordischarge to each other, and I hope I and mine will-not be the first to' forget our responsibilities in that respect," was tho good natured reply. Days passed on. As Hans's external wounds healed and grew less painful, he was conscious of internal inroads upon his heart; which threat- ened to baffle all the arts of surgery and medi-1 cine. The bright eyes and gentle smiles of Iva, had done their work; Hans wag enthralled. Sov far from wishing for a speedy cure of his broken bones, he heartily prayed that they might take' their own time, and not farce him to leave the dwelling of George Heman too soon. f It ivas with a feeling of disappointment that he saw his wounds healing by the "first inten- a t in." The time passed very pleasantly with our hero. h He had the happiness of seeing Iva every day, ii and of conversing wi her. To his surprise he d found that the graces of her, mind 'exceeded,*if u, possible, the graces of her person.,P At length this wounds were- healed, .anl there ti was no longer excuse for further delay. Be- lieving that his' happiness was involved in the state of Iva's feelings towards him, he availed himself of the first opportunity to converse with her on.the subject. " Duty admonishes me that it is time for me to leave this hospitable roof," he said with some emotion. " To-morrow I shall leave you, but once more before I depart, I woaild attempt to express the grateful emotions which I feel. - Iva, you have been to me a ministering angel. The sound of, your footsteps in this room has been music to me. When you come and speak, I for- get my pain. Your gentle smiles have done more for me than leech or medicament. Yos have become indispensable to my - happiness. How' can I go hence and see you no more ?" Hans paused to recover himself, for his voice' had grown tremulous. . - " Must you go so soon, then '" asked' Iva, in a voice that betrayed more than-she desired; " It must be thus. My hurtsmare quite well, and I can find no excuse for intruding myself upon you longer. But there :is something of importance which I must communicate ' to you, before I bid you fivoll. Iagi love you.?' Hans could get n6 further. iHe'stopped and looked at his fair nurse'; eiewas-weeping. Re- assured,'he sank upon his knees and kissed her hands. It was not Ing before he had wrung from her a timid confession of her love, a&e when they parted they had pledged therpselves, to eternal constancy and truth. Mans now' believed himself 'the most happy man in existenceand often found himself-say-- ing, " what a fortunate thing- that my Jiorae stumbled. A placid moonlight night fbllowedt third im- portant event. Hans retired to his chamber, but could not sleep. Putting on his clothes, he walked softly from the house. It seemed'to him hat his room was not large enough to.breathe in nce he had become happy in the love of Iva. Taking the first path that he ame to, he soon found himself in the shadow of some large trees, which he remembered often having looked 'out upon during his illness. Leaning against one of the sturdy trunks that ad defied wind and storm so long, he looked up ito the quiet sky. He had stood in a sort of reamy reverie for about the space of ten min- tes, when a sound like-"at produced by foot- teps caused him to gland hastily about him for he cause of the disturbance. He saw distinctly I rl 4 tF1 A +40 it JJ + + 4 + t a 96 ' page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] I THE TWIN BROTHERS. a figure approaching by the same path he had taken.. As it advanced, and become more dis- tinctly defined against the shadowy objects around, he perceived that it was a female form. That it was Iva, he could, not doubt ; but for what she could be abroad at such an hour, he could not guess. She kept on, and passed-within a few yards of him. She did not'go far, but drawing her mantle closer about her, stood motionless. "She waits for some one," said Hans to himself. It was not long before another figure was visi- ble. s This one wore male attire, and approach- ing Iva, embraced her, while Hans heard her say: "Dear --" the name did not reach him- "you have come at last. I feared I should not see you." k . . " Nothing could have kept me from this meet- ing, save sickness or death,"'replied the other; and Hans imagined he saw him salute Iva's lips at the same time. The parties now walked away out of sight and hearing, leaving our hero transfixed with amazement, and pained to.tliheart. He walked back to the dwelling he had left with such sen sations of happiness, changed in thought and in feature. All his air-castles had tumbled down 4 and grief, despair and indignation, arose and filled, their places. He sat down at his window and after the lapse of nearly an hopir saw Iva return. Hans threw himself upon his bed, without di vesting himself of clothing, and passed the mos miserable -night of his -life. The "idea seemed like a mockery of his misery, but for the life o ima he could not help exclaiming: "How unfortunate a thing ,that mey horse stumbled !" It is thus that circumstances change our views and shape our thoughts. It was remarked in the morning, by Lfr. Be- man, that Hans looked haggard and '_'i'irited,. as though he had passed a bad hnight.le ate in silence, and it was a gloomy breakfast to all. The horse whose clumsiness had caused his master so much suffering, was brought to the door. Hans took an. affectionate leave of his kind entertainer. With one foot in the stirrup he turned to Iva, who stood very near him, and said in a low reproachful voice . " Iva, farewell! We meet no more. Last night I saw you leave the hose, and witnessed all- enough to prove your inconstancy." Before Iva had recovered from the surprise which these words occasioned, Hans Rayinon was dashing away at fearful speed ; but before he was out of sight, he heard a cry from the, lips of his fair but false one, and knew that she had swooned. George Bemnan took his daughter in his arms and carried her in as tenderly as he had tended her in childhood.' "My poor child !".he said, kissing her fore- head. "I should have thought of this. But it is too late now; the mischief is done." " Has he gone " asked Iva, faintly, looking vacantly intd her father's face. a " Yes, my girl, he has gone, and I would he had never come among us.' - " My father, say not thus'; he has done'me no t wrong. But I may not tell you all now. Prom- d ise me that you will be silent on this subject for f the present." "I promise." I 9 '' } CHAPTER II. Wa pads over an interval of one month. lans'had completed the object of his journey, and was on his return home. He had ab~tit his person large sums of money, which had been paid him ly the executor of a deceased uncle's will. It was dark-when he 'reached Khirnbach, and not being Well acquainted with the roads, he soon lost his way, and became entangled in a labyrinth of hills, valleys and mountains. At length the moon came up, and he flattered him- self that he should be able to find his way again. While standing irresolute, as to what direction would be a proper one, a man suddenly stepped from the roadside, and taking the horse-by the bit, presented a pistol to the breast of Hans and demanded his money. Hans Raymon- was no coward, and felt rather reluctant to part with his thalers. "Let me pass !' he exclaimed, sternly.. "I have no money to part with thus idly." Yourmonef !," thundered the robber. " Your money without delay, or I swear to you by all that is sacred, I will shoot you through the head !, , " I don't like the idea of giving my money without an equivalent," said Hans, pulling forth a well-filled purse. As he put the purse into the robber's hand, he beat forward to get a view of his face. He nearly fell from his horse with surprise, when, as he did so, he recognized, as he believed, the features of George Bernan. Before Hans had recovered from the shock of the discovery, the robber had disappeared. Our hero sat-like one stupifed. He forgot his loss; he ceased to lament his thalers ; he thought only of the terrible 'secret he had discovered, The words of the peasant lad were recalled " He don't work, sir. No person has ever seen him work since hie has been among as.vr"ee " To-night's adventure accounts for it, all, His work is done under -the dark cover of night. The lad was right ; 'he keeps his business all to himself,' in reality. 0, that Iva's father shoi d prove to be such a man, and that Iva herself should prove to be such a girl. How unfortu_ nate that my horse did not break my neck when he threw me over his head I" Filled with these gloony reflections, Hans suffered his horse to go forward, careless whither he went; foi he was in that state of mind when life seems too bitter to be borne. Three-quarters of an hour passed, in which he was conscious of nothing but misery;, upon re- covering himself at the expiration of that time, and looking about him, what was his surprise to find himself at Bemai's door. " Unlucky animal!" exclaimed Hans. "Your tendency always hither, and always wrong. I h 0 , 1 y . , page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 98 THE TWIN BROTHERS. What new trouble have you brought me to now'?" The dumb creature rubbed his nose against his master's foot without deigning any further reply.- While Hans was making up his mind what to do, he heard some one approaching. lie turned in his saddle, and beheld no other than George Beman himself, apparently fatigued with travel, and somewhat excited. " Ah, my friend. Raymon, is it you? Why do you sit in your saddle like a statue'? Dismount, and enter," said Beman, in his usual mild and kindly tones. " I lost my way," replied Hans, as calmly as he could, " and my horse has brought me hither before I was aware of it. I did not mean to tax your hospitality again so soon." " No apologies, Mr. Raymon. Your brother is already here. He reached here last night,' was the reply. " He set out on his return one day in advance of me. But why this delay'?" asked Hans. " He'was robbed on his way hither last night and received some rough treatment that rendered himi unfit to go forward to-day," replied Beman in a tone of voice betraying no consciousness o guilt, or any embarrassment whatever. " Cool!" thought Hans, "very cool !" He met Iva on the threshold. She recoiled step when she saw him, but instantly recovering her equanimity, extended her hand. Hans shool it coldly, and passed in. Upon scanning th features of Iva more closely, he was surprise and shocked at the change, which he beheld Her cheeks were very pale, and her eyes had los their 'accustomed vivacity. Hans sighed audi bly, but unconsciously ; while Beman regarde him with a surprised and puzzled expression. " Be.kind enough to show me to my brother, said. our hero, wishing to be alone for a feu -"- moments, in order to collect his scattered an disturbed thoughts, for the calmness and coo ness of his late host astounded him. To meet juan who had just robbed him of a large sum * nioney ; to meet him in his own house ; to hav 'that nyan treat him with, such perfect self-po session, and-apparent forgetfulness of what ha just transpired, presented human nature to hi in a light so tnew, that he knewnot how to ac lie found hisjbrother Fredericcomforlably di pose of in a large easy-chair. "LAid not expect to find you here' sa " I did not expect to be here," replied his" brother. "Our entertained, ells .;p eyou have been robbed," added Hans. = "Then he certay tells you the truth. I was met last night by some gentleman unknown to me, who, with a cocked pistol at my head told me, 'stand and deliver !' "- " I attempted by a sudden effort to wrest the- pistol from his hand, but received for my good intention a blow upon the head, which laid me senseless upon the earth. When I recovered, I found my horse near me, for it would seem that the considerate highwayman had fastened the animal to a tree, in order that I might be spared the trouble of a long walk. I attempted to ride ; a sickly sensation crept over me, and I sank back overpowered and unconscious. The first idea that dawned upon me after this, was, that- there were soft hands upon my head, and breath upon my face. I opened my eyes, and perceived a female form beside me, and was fully conse ous that some kind angel was striving to restore , me to sensibility." 1 "What looked she like'?" asked Hans, ear- nestly. f "She greatly resembled the daughter of our host," replied Frederick, unconscious of the pain his words were inflicting. a " Go on, brother ! go on !" added Hans, im- g patiently. k " Well, the unknown female assisted me to e arise, nfaking anxious inquiries in regard to the. d extent of my injuries. She studiously kept her 1. face concealed by a thick veil, the moment she t perceived I was regaining my consciousness ; i- consequently I-saw-ier features but itnperfectly, d but her voice was rich and musical, like the daughter of our host." " Hans beat upon his breast,- and paced the w floor like one distracted,. d " What ails you, Hans'? Why this perturba- 1- tion ?" a " Go on! you shall-know all-in good time." of " The unknown female, with the mellow voice, re and the face like Iva's, assisted me to-mount s- she then showed me. the way to George Beman .S d and here you see ltjIm, safe andsound, with the im exception of a few bruises." t. ",And what became of your kind angel'?" s- "She vanished." "Did you observe the'face and figure of the id robber " "Let me consider; he was about the height of our friend Beman, I should think, and the' more I recall his fenturde and appearance, the more striking doea the -e"tparison seem." "Fatal coinciderice!" exclaimed Hans, bit- terlye He'thenTdlated.all that had taken place since they had parted,'concealing nothing in ree lation to Iva and and her want of faith, or of the robbery, and his suspicions in relation to the author of the crime. "sAtn unfortunate affair," said Frederic. "I must confess that there are just-grouns of sus- picion in relatiodi to Beman and his daughter." "And it-is that which distressed me more than all. You know not how deeply I have' loved the fair Iva. 0, Frederic, a disappointment like nrne is-hard to bear. Could I, believe that she i innocent of all knowledge of her father's call- ing, it woulddeprive this last blow at my hap- piness of half its bitterness. ' But the truth comes home to me with overwhelming force-- George Beman is the robber, and his daughter is the female who aided you, and if the last be true, then she cannot be ignorant of his occupa- ton." " That looks reasonable, but all may be made clear yet: a more tangled skein has been un- twisted," returned Frederic, in the vain hope of comforting his brother. " I hope it was not Iva who assisted me, for I have thought of the fair stranger ever since, and Ireally begin to imagine that I am in love." "Frederic, I shall leave Germany forever. I cannot remain longer; amid the scenes of my disappointment. My property I 'leave in your care, only requiring that you shall remit to me such sums as I shall need to' supply the every day wants of life." " No; it shall not be so. I am resolved what - to do; I will accuse George Beman of robbery Upon the highway ; and let him prove his inno- cence if he can." "Frederic, I entreat of you to be silent. I will never consent that the father of the woman I have loved, and still love, despite all that has transpired, be accused of such a crime. No ; let darkness and forgetfulness close over a trans-: action so foul and unfortunate." " Seek aninterview with Iva," said Frederic. "jbut -what would it avail? Nothing. It woufd result in pain and mortification to both." "It can produce nothing worse than the pres-. ent state of suspense ; therefore' I say, seek an interviewtrith your false fair one." "It shall be so," answered Hans, after some rpfieotion. Firm in' his resolve, and true to his purpose, Hans soon stood in' the presence' of Besanittid Iva. "For important reasons, I crave a few mo- ments' interview with your daughter," Said Hans to his host. "'there can be no objection to such a re- 'quest," he replied, and bowing, left the room. A painful and' embarrassing silence ensued ; it was.finally-broken by Hans. " When I parted from you, Iva, I did not-ex- pect to see you again so 'soon; but circumstant ces of a -strange character have again thrown us under the same roof. That I have suffered a deep disappointment, you well know; but Iwill not reproach you. I sought not this interview .for that purpose. I will remember you, Iva,as we remember dreams of happiness; and this dream of mine has been as fleeting as any drum, though it was sweet ,while it held me in its power. I would barter all my earthly'posses- sions to recall that dream for a single hour." " Then it shall be recalled'?" said Iva, wiping the tears from her dark eyes. " Never! never !" exclaimed'Hans, in accents of despair. "I have not told you all-a darker page must yet be read. There have been two- two --robberies within the last twenty-four hours." Iva's face grew pale as marble. "Both these robberies have occurred in Rsrn-- bach." Iva wept aloud. " I recognized the robber."" "Father'of all! how can I exist'?"-cried Iva. " I have reasons for believing that you have also seen the perpetrator of these crimes." " Good heavens ! you suspect myown father; but I swear to you o 'my knees, and in the sight of God, that he is innocent. Iva Beaman-never knelt to human being before, but now she kneel and begs of you to suspend your judgment for a day, a single hour, even. 'There is a secret that I may not divulge." The sobs and tears of the beautiful ter stopped her utterance. Taking her cold ha ils in his, Hans wept, and'let his tears fall upon them. " I cnj erse you to tell the truth." "I will, Hans ; I am innocent, and my'father is also innocent. .ad you not left ne in * cruel haste, I would have explained all... are some family matters," continued Iv ing calmer, "which I would fain ha ke 'x ,.. t 1 f N t FFF7 } 4" ,y" r'1 TIM TWIN BI O 1 LEAs. I 0 page: 100[View Page 100] f' r- gerot; but I feels that the time has arrived wlen F; muat speak} You -saw me go forth at night and meet a person unknown to you. That per. son w! e aeje mele attire-my father's brother's: hil _.And now comes the most pain- ful part 1my confession. 'My uncle .and my father *ere ;twin brothers. The resemblance betweenthem is so marked, that the one is often mistaken for the other. My grandfather was a man of fortune., My, father was his favorite child, forthe wayward habits of Karl, the twin brother, displeased bim. Dying, my grandfather left the bulkof his property to my father. From that hour the. tendency of Karl Beman was downward.- My father generously advanced him large sums ; but his kindness met with in-- gratitude for its reward. My uncle married a lovely woman, who lived just long enough to see her husband penniless, and abandoned, and her little'daughter entering upon her fifth year. Karl loVed his child, and my father himself has attended to her education,- and supplied all her wants, though he has long ceased to be on inti- mate terms with my uncle. What has transpired within the last twenty-four hours, leads me to believe that he has added robbery to other sins y but I entreat of you not to bring him to justice. Lave to Heaven the punishment of his many crimess."' "May he-who reads men's thoughts forgive me the wrong I have done you, Iva 1" cried Hans, sinking on his knees. " And may Heaven bless her for being a good angel t7 me and mine," said 'a husky voice. Hans looked up, and beheld the exact counter- part of George Beman---and recognized in him the man who had previously robbed him of his purse. " This angel," continued, the intruder, "has tOld you the truth. I am the guilty nman. Beck- lessness, pride and poverty drove) me t)3 the- commission of the crini 'Iam guilty of only two robberies, which I might :ieverhave con- fessed, had it not been fqtl sake of this fair girl. I restore your moneyjigitouched; for my, whole nature shrank froni the thought of appro- priating it to:my.own or my daughter's use. I shall go to America, and it is 'probable I shall see you no more;. Iva, with you I leave the most precious of all earthly things-my only child.'- Karl's voice grew tremulous, and he, was obliged to pause. "My only child!1 Iva,-you will be kind to her. Conceal from her, as you value your soul's hap- ness, the knowledge of her father's crime." .,Karl Beman waited for no reply. He turned on his heel and left the house toreturn no more. As he passed out of the. room, Hans saw Iva's father put a yell-filled purse into his hand, gaze into his face a moment, and in a broken.voice, say: "Farewell, Karl. God bless you." " What a fortunate thingthat my horse stum- bled," said Hans to himself, on his wedding night. Frederic found that he'was really in love with Karl's daughter, and that that love really had its birtkat the-moment she had assisted hiin to arise and, mount his horse, on the night of the robbery. Therefore,.when he exclaimed on his wedding day, "What a fortunate fall !" the reader will understand what he meant. When Karl Beman was next heard from, he was serving with great creditin the American army. Thus ends our tal, .leaving all parties pros- I perous and happy. THE END. a a 4 ' Ab -It,' 1 _e i .. . , :: ' . TIM -,Tvnx
