porting Ellen, he entered the mansion of her father; Mr. O'Brien following in durance vile, while Phoebe brought up the rear, in the close custody of one of the keepers. Mr. Harrison, when they entered the hall, called loudly for lights, which he ordered to be placed in the diningroom. Danger, imminent, inevitable danger, has, it is asserted, sometimes changed the coward to a hero, and the extraordinary events of this night, had a singular effect upon the youthful and timid maiden. Aware that there was no alternative left but a decided assertion of free will, she determined to brave the worst consequences of parental anger, and dare the denunciation of her father's eternal displeasure. Her lover felt the gentle pressure of her arm against his; he turned his eyes, still flashing with excitement, upon those of his gentle companion, and he read there a look of confiding love and meek determination. "You will not leave me, Blake? Will any thing induce you to give me up?" she said in a soft and entreating tone. Her lover pressed her hand. "Sooner, Ellen, shall my heart's blood colour the floor I stand on!" and regardless of the presence of an angry father, he bent his lips to hers. Mr. Harrison noticed it; was he turned pale as death, but controlled his feelings. The servant returning, announced that the dining-room lighted. "Have the kindness, sir and madam, to follow me," he said, coldly, " and let the other prisoners stop here." "Prisoners! Denis O'Brien. we're no prisoners," exclaimed Mr. 66 Phaybe, darlin, don't mind him ; we're only what they call upon parole, and that manes that we'll nather smash heads nor brake windows, but just go quiet and asy. Arrah! honour bright ould gentleman; or say the word, and by Jasus we 'll fight it over again." But his master gave a signal which the valet appeared to comprehend. Oh, I see it's to settle terms of surrender, as we used to say in Holland. Some of ye, and the divil speed yeer manners! might have handed one a drop of drink, after the tossing and tumbling we had without 66 Mona mondiaoul! if iver I was so flustered with an insignified skrimmage; I'm as hot as if I had been at the clearing of a pattern." 66 Bring the fellow some ale," said the master of the house; and while Denis was left to discuss a tankard, his master with the "old man's daughter" on his arm, were ushered into the lighted chamber. The scene was an uncommon one. Mr. Harrison settled himself coolly in his accustomed arm-chair; the soldier firmly confronted him, while Ellen, half sinking with terror and dismay, clung to him heavily for support. There was on her father's countenance a cold, and withering, and passionless resolution, which augured badly for his offending child, if any hope had remained of pardon. He scanned the major over from head to foot, and read in the bold and reckless bearing of his daughter's lover that before him was an unbending spirit that neither present threats nor future consequences could waver for a moment. He glanced at his only child, and, momentary as the look was, upon both the effect was powerful. A paleness covered his face which had before been flushed with subdued passion, while Ellen quivered like an aspen in the breeze. The lover noticed her distress. There was wine upon the table, and filling a glass, he carried it to her lips an effort of which agitation rendered herself incapable. Several minutes passed in silence: at last the old gentleman spoke. “Your name, sir?" he said, addressing my father, whom he continued to question. "Cæsar Blake." "Your country? "Your calling? "An Irishman." "" "A soldier." "Your rank? "A major upon half-pay." "I seldom notice military matters, but I believe you were lately removed from your regiment: may I ask for what crime?" "For none: I took upon myself the consequences of a youthful folly which others were engaged in, and to whom the results might have been ruinous.' "What was the offence, then? 'Covering a chimney 39 with a horse-cloth." "Humph! a sensible exploit. Have you any means?" "But small ones." "Name them.". "Regimental half-pay, and one hun dred a year from my brother." "You are lovers, it would appear, and she was cognisant of the design. How was your intrigue carried on? "You must use a more correct term if you expect a reply from me." "Humph!—well, courtship be it."-" I met her in the stage-coach by accident. loved her, wooed her, won her." "You have achieved a wondrous conquest, as you "I think so; I have won one that will make "Will you wed her against my wish?" suredly, if Ellen will consent." "Did you point a pistol at my breast to-night? "I did." "Was it loaded? "" 66 Yes, with a brace of bullets." "Would you have shot me? Certainly, had you persevered in detaining me, and I been unapprised by Ellen who you were.” "Who is the cut-throat who accompanies you?". presume you mean my servant." "I "Who is the quean who roams through private parks at midnight with idle renegades?"-"She is no quean, nor I a renegade." 66 Oh, your pardon !" was replied sarcastically. 'Well, who is that modest gentlewoman whom we found among the bushes?" 'Daughter to the landlord of the Cross Keys." "Ho-ho! am I then betrayed by my own servants and dependants.' "Certainly not: he of the Keys knew nothing of the attempt." 66 And you will marry my daughter, although I peremptorily forbid it."-" I have already answered you." 66 Enough, sir." He rose from his chair, filled a glass of wine, drank it, took two or three turns across the chamber, then seating himself, fixed a searching and unmoved look upon his trembling daughter. 66 Ellen," he said in a low and tremulous tone, that might either be occasioned by anger or affection re Ellen, attend to me, for it is probable that this is the last time I' may address you. How is it that I find you, regardless of the duty you owe to me as your natural protector gardless of brilliant prospects of rank and opulence, which in your own country, and among your own connections, you may realise when you please? How comes it that duty and interest are alike abandoned, and that you sacrifice all to share the shattered fortunes of a disbanded soldier, and, for aught you or I can tell, a profligate and a beggar ?" My father's cheek reddened, his eye blazed, his blood boiled, and it was easy to observe that there was a volcano labouring in his breast that required but small additional insult to explode. "You cling to him," continued Mr. Harrison " him, the acquaintance of some hours, and you leave me. Well, be it so. I shall ask you but a few questions: take heed, weak girl, for on your answers it depends, whether I shall pardon your disobedience, receive you as my child, proclaim, you as my heiress, or cast you from me a worthless and repudiated daughter. Hear me ! - You have five thousand pounds when at age, to which none can gainsay your right; I, if you are deserving, will leave you twelve thousand pounds a year. If you have been hitherto too much in confinement, you may with my full concurrence, mix in the world, and wed a man your equal." Ellen shook her head, and Mr. Harrison continued. "Well, I shall not press that union if you dislike it; in this, or any other matter, I will assert no parental authority; if you are not obedient from a sense of duty, I will not seek it by compulsion. Reply to me with candour, and then determine by whom you will abide — your father or yonder gentleman." He paused, and seemed to hesitate; but promptly he thus continued: "You love him?"- "Dearer than life!" returned a feeble voice, so inarticulate as to be almost inaudible. “And will you for him give up home and father, fortune, kindred, country?". "All will I give up if required. But, O my father, pardon me, pardon him!" and make us for life your slaves." Mr. Harrison coldly waved his hand. "Pause," he said, "before you repeat this resolution, for, let it be repeated, and the same roof shall never cover us again." There was a momentary, a dreadful silence. Ellen raised her eyes; she looked upon the cold marble countenance of her father, she met the fond and anxious glances of the handsome stranger, and love prevailed. "Wilt thou abide by him? "Till death!" she murmured, and fainted in her lover's arms. "It is settled," replied Mr. Harrison, as he rang the bell and ordered his own carriage to the door immediately; while the major placed Ellen in a chair, and bathed her lips and temples with water. Kneeling beside her, he called her by every term of endearment, and in two or three minutes he saw her sufficiently recovered. While this scene was passing, Mr. Harrison stood a looker on, with his back against the mantle-piece, until the carriage-wheels were heard. In a cool and collected voice he ordered Miss Ellen's trunks to be put in. "You are bound," he said, turning to my father, "I presume, to Scotland for I trust you mean my daughter honourably;" and a bitter smile passed over his pale and sarcastic countenance. Again my father's cheek blazed. "Nay, gallant, sir, do not be irate; I know little of the world, but I have heard that sometimes these midnight meetings end with scanty ceremony. Might I request you to favour me with a certificate of marriage, so soon as this prudent and dutiful young lady becomes an honoured wife? Give me my writing-desk." It was brought, and he unlocked it; then, turning to his daughter, he continued, |