FIVE or six days passed; visits were received and returned. Allan Fairfax went more than once to Brownswick without telling Margaret why or wherefore; he visited Ben Halliday in his cottage, too, several times; and there seemed to be grand consultations going on. Margaret perceived that there was a secret, but she only smiled and let it take its course, for she felt sure that she should know it all in time, and she was so happy, so very happy, that every thing took its colour from the hue of her own mind.

At length on the Tuesday morning, after being absent from the drawing-room for some minutes, Fairfax returned to his beautiful wife with an open note in his hand.

"I must go over to Brownswick directly, dearest," he said, and then, throwing his arms round her, he kissed her tenderly, adding, "I will now tell you, my Margaret, I have bought Allerdale, and in the beloved scenes where we first met we will pass a part of every year."

"Oh, I am glad to hear it," replied Margaret; "but the money, Allan? I know it was sold for fifty thousand pounds. I hope you have not disposed of your old family estate merely to gratify me."

"Not an acre, dear Margaret," he answered, "I told you some time ago that a circumstance which I cannot relate placed in my possession a hundred pounds at the moment when my fate was in the balance for want of money. That hundred pounds procured me a number of old papers of my father's, which his clerk had kept, or rather stolen. Those papers compelled my brothers to share my father's property with me, and the sum I received was more than forty thousand pounds. Since then some interest has accumulated, so that the amount wants but little of the sum demanded for Allerdale. It is agreed that a part shall remain upon mortgage, and I thought I could not invest my money better than in the purchase of a place so dear to you and me. However, I must go over to Brownswick at once to conclude the bargain."

Margaret was very happy at this arrangement, for all the memories of Allerdale were sweet to her. She had there spent the early, bright days of life, she had there enjoyed in the days of his beneficent prosperity the society of her kind and high-minded father, she had there first become acquainted with him who was now her husband, and she thanked Fairfax

for the thought of buying Allerdale as if it were all a favour to herself. His horse was soon brought round, his groom was ready at the precise moment named, and Allan Fairfax rode on eagerly towards Brownswick, entered the little town, and trotted up to the door of the dwelling-house attached to the greatest manufactory in the place. A servant in gorgeous livery presented himself, and informed Sir Allan that Mr. Hankum was not at home, but had left word if he called that he would be with the other magistrates at the Town-hall. To the Town-hall rode Sir Allan, and after sending in his card for Mr. Hankum to the magistrates'-room, was soon joined by that gentleman, who was peculiarly polite and courteHe led the young baronet into a committee-room, and begging him to be seated, said,

ous.

“Well, Sir Allan, I suppose all is settled except signing a little memorandum of the terms. It is a beautiful place, and nothing would induce me to part with it but that I find it takes me away from my business. However, I am delighted that it falls into the hands of a gentleman of such distinction, and a friend of poor Graham's, who, I may say, made it."

"You are very kind," replied Sir Allan, "and I think we may as well draw up the memorandum at once. You are more conversant with such things than I am, perhaps you will have the kindness to do so.'

"Certainly, certainly," answered the manufacturer, and taking a pen he wrote a little preamble, and began to state the terms agreed upon.

At the very first, however, a difference of opinion arose between him and Fairfax, as to whether timber trees were to be included in the purchase for the sum named. Mr. Hankum thought that he had expressly reserved them in his first letter on the subject. Fairfax assured him he had not. Mr. Hankum, in the politest manner, requested to see the letter, declaring himself quite ready to abide by whatever he had said. Sir Allan answered that he had not the letter with him, but that it could be procured in a short time, and he would send his servant for it while they went over the other particulars. Taking up a pen and a piece of the committee-room paper, he wrote as follows,

"Dearest Margaret,-Open my writing-desk, of which I send the key, and take out the packet of letters which you will find on the right-hand side at the top. If you have any doubt as to which I mean, the signature, Josiah Hankum,' will show you. Send the packet to me by the groom who bears this.

"Your affectionate husband,

"ALLAN FAIRFAX."

Enclosing the key of his writing-desk, he sealed the packet and gave it to his groom, ordering him to make haste and bring back an answer. Then returning to Mr. Hankum he proceeded to discuss the other items of the memorandum, which were gone through in less than ten minutes, as no further difficulty occurred.

"Pray do not let me detain you from business, Mr. Hankum," said Fairfax, as soon as all was concluded; "I will wait here and send in for you when the servant returns."

"Why not walk into the justice-room with me, Sir Allan?" said the great manufacturer, you will doubtless be soon upon the bench, and by the way, there is a case coming on that may interest you, for the man is a

notorious poacher who has been at my preserves up there-yours they will soon be I trust."

"What is his name," asked Fairfax.

"Jacob Halliday," replied Mr. Hankum, "a cousin, I think, of Lady Fairfax's bailiff."

"Poor fellow," answered Fairfax, in a tone of commiseration, "I am sorry for him, he was hardly treated by the farmer who employed him, I have understood, and driven to desperation."

Mr. Hankum was not sorry to have this indication of his companion's views, for he was very well inclined to court the friendship of the young baronet, who was about to become his neighbour, and he led the way to the justiceroom determined to take the best possible view of Jacob Halliday's case. It was already before the magistrates when the two gentlemen entered, but the proceedings were interrupted immediately on their appearance, and Mr. Hankum introduced the young baronet to a fat, shrewd, smalleyed man, in the chair, named Sir Stephen Grizley, knight. He was a jocular magistrate, very lenient in his way, and who seemed to look upon all the functions of justice as the best joke in the world. We must all have seen such men on country benches, and therefore it would be useless to describe him further, merely noticing, that notwithstanding his lenity and his merriment, he had great tact in finding out the truth, by not the most formal or customary processes.

As soon as the magistrates were seated again, and Fairfax with them, the case of Jacob Halliday was resumed; and as he stood before the justices, with a wild and haggard, but not irresolute look, he turned his eyes towards the face of the young baronet, with an expression of hope, as if he expected to find sympathy there.

A gamekeeper and a looker-out proved that they had found the prisoner in one of the copses of Allerdale during the preceding night, and that a little further on they had found a hare in a springe. There had also been found upon Jacob Halliday's person several very suspicious looking bits of wire, but none of them made up into the form of a noose, springe, or gin, nor was there any game found upon him. This was the whole of the evidence, and it was just the sort of case in which one bench of magistrates would convict and another dismiss, according as their prejudices led them.

"Now, Jacob," said Sir Stephen Grizley, "you know, my good fellow, you are a terrible poacher."

"Perhaps I may be, your worship," replied Halliday; "but if I am, I should like to know what made me?"

"My good friend, you must not put awkward interrogatories to the bench," said Sir Stephen, chuckling, perhaps you may say it was Farmer Stumps-Stumps is a hard fellow. Perhaps the new poor law-the new poor law is a hard fellow, but I am afraid hungry guts and empty purse cannot be received by us as an apology for poaching.

"But I was not poaching then," answered Halliday.

"You were trespassing, at all events," observed one of the magis

trates.

"No, I was not," said the prisoner, "the path is a beaten path, and every one about there knows it is."

"I think I can answer for that fact myself," said Fairfax; "I have crossed through the coppice by that path several times."

"What at night?" asked Sir Stephen.

"Yes, at night," replied Fairfax, "if I understand the description rightly."

"It is the path that crosses away from the red post," said the gamekeeper in a surly tone; "people do go along it, I know, but they've no right, and they had better not let me catch 'em."

"In regard to the right," said the young baronet, "I can form no correct judgment; but I know that it is frequently used by people of all classes, and it was first pointed out to me by the late Mr. Graham, as a short cut from his house to the moor."

"What do you say to all this, Hankum?" asked the jolly chairman, "if you are fond of roast pheasant you must block up that path, I think."

"I think, Sir Stephen, the case won't stand," said Mr. Hankum. “I love pheasant well, but justice better."

"Bravo!" cried the knight; "did the prisoner make any resistance, keeper ?"

"I can't say he did," answered the person questioned, "but that was 'cause he knew he had nothing upon him. If he had there would have been precious work going."

"Case dismissed," said Sir Stephen; "but take my advice, Master Jacob, and cure yourself of your taste for game.".

"I don't mean to be saucy, sir," replied Jacob Halliday, "for you're a good, kind gentleman, and as ready to do justice to the poor as to the rich. But I will feed my wife and children somehow; and as for this fellow, if he stops me in that path again, he had better mind his bones."

"I'll stop thee, wherever I find thee," replied the keeper, and with these mutual indications of good will they left the justice-room.

Another case was being called on, when the groom of Sir Allan Fairfax returned, and sent in the packet of letters to his master, who retired with Mr. Hankum to the committee-room, and the first proposal of the manufacturer was read. It turned out that Fairfax was neither quite right nor quite wrong, for the stipulation regarding the timber trees was not very distinctly put, yet it might be implied, and both yielding a little, it was agreed that the timber should be surveyed and valued, and that Sir Allan should one-half the estimated worth. Some other minor arrangements regarding the speedy transfer of the property occupied about half an hour more, and then Fairfax mounted his horse and rode home to find all its sunshine clouded.

pay

"I am sorry to say, sir, my lady is very ill," said a servant meeting him in the hall.

"Ill!" exclaimed Fairfax, in great alarm, "what is the matter?" "She has fainted twice, sir," said the "and this time we cannot bring her to, all we can do."

man,

Fairfax passed him in an instant, and ran up stairs to Margaret's bedroom, with feelings in his bosom which he had not known that he could experience.

CHAP. XVI.

THE WORST STORM.

MARGARET GRAHAM was sitting calmly writing a note, about an hour

after her husband had left her, when a servant entered with a small packet in his hand, saying, "John says, my lady, that Sir Allan wishes for an answer directly."

The lady took the letter, and, opening it, found the words which, as we have already seen, her husband had written from the Town Hall.

gone

"Wait a moment," she said, "and I will bring the papers directly ;" and, proceeding with the little key in her hand to a room which had been fitted up expressly for Fairfax during their absence, she advanced to the table on which the writing-desk stood, and put the key into the lock. It opened with some difficulty; for, in more than one campaign which it had through, the lock had been somewhat damaged, and on arriving at the inside, Margaret deranged the position of the desk on the table, and nearly threw it down. It opened at length, however, and she found the papers where Fairfax had told her, methodically tied up by themselves. Without closing the desk again, she went to the door, called the servant to her and gave him the packet for his master, and then returning, she shut down the upper part of the writing case, and pressed it down to lock it. In so doing she overset the balance of the desk upon the table, and it fell to the ground almost upon her feet; but the sudden concussion caused both upper and lower part to fly open; a number of papers strewed the floor, and a secret drawer, common in all writing-cases, I believe, came partly out. Margaret hurried to gather up the papers, placed them on the table, and then lifted the desk, when the drawer came further out, and she could not help seeing what it contained. How strange is association! There was nothing there but a pair of old-fashioned silver shoe-buckles ; but the sight made Margaret in a moment tremble violently. She turned away her eyes, she would not look at them at first; but, with a cheek like marble, she gathered up the papers from the table with a hasty hand, and thrust them in confusion into the lower part of the desk. The buckles were still staring her in the face; there they lay before her, and it seemed as if they had some strange power of attracting her eyes to themselves, till at length she stood and gazed at them unable to close the desk. She could not resist it; she took them out; she turned them round. There was a mark upon one of them as if a bloody finger had pressed it; and on the inner rim of each was engraved " A. K.," " Andrew Kenmore."

There could be no doubt of the fact; they were the buckles worn by her murdered husband at the time of his death; there was the mark of his blood upon them!

Margaret put them hastily back again, shut the drawer and the desk, and then stood leaning on the table in thought.

"How can Fairfax have got them?" she asked herself, while a crowd of painful and terrible memories crowded upon her; "this may lead to the detection of the murderer. He was down wandering about here at the time, I know, for Dr. Kenmore saw him. Where could he have found them? I must tell him what has happened, and ask him—yet I hardly dare. Any reference to that time or the poor old man seems to pain and irritate him. Yet it is a duty, and I must do it. It is very strange that he should be so unwilling to speak upon that which surely can wake no jealous susceptibility in his heart."

Margaret's thoughts were approaching dangerous ground. As yet the emotion she had felt proceeded solely, from the associations which the June.-VOL. LXXX. NO, CCCxviii.

M