The remark at first was set down to some sudden burst of regret at having been deceived by the aristocratic blandishments of her late lodger; but upon her resuscitation, it appeared that, while scanning the street, the poor woman's frightened glance had happened to fall on a window at no great distance, where, insufficiently hidden by the blind, peered forth a face she knew, lit up with a certain fiendish exultation. That this gentleman had set a-going the proceedings which afforded him so much amusement was a conviction that flashed upon her at once, and from which she never swerved.

She will take her affidavit,' said Mr. Blades to Mr. Figgins, who was once more summoned for a consultation, as that is Tallboise, and that he wrote the letters.'

'Very good we shall have to prove it, however: we have no hold on the fellow, except as to the money he owes you, and which you may take your oath you will never see. He ain't worth powder and shot in that way.'

6

Then, is he to worry us to death, like this?' cried Mr. Blades, pointing to a neat little note which had just arrived from 'Vengeance,' giving notice of another grand reception.'

'Well, he can be prosecuted for an annoyance, of course; but where you'll have him best is "for attempting to extort money by threatening letters."

'But that's transportation for life, isn't it?' exclaimed Mrs. Blades pitifully. I am sure neither John nor I could sleep comfortably in our bed, if we had sent a fellow-creature, and such a nice gentlemanly person as we used to think him, beyond seas.'

Mr. Blades, who, if not an angel in top-boots,' was a sort of Early Christian in list slippers, nodded adhesion.

'It's not Transportation,' said Mr. Figgins drily. Just leave the matter in my hands, and I'll see to it.'

On Monday morning a detective had taken the ground-floor apartments of the house in which the enemy was located-and before noon the same day had found an opportunity to sift the contents of his waste-basket. He found a letter in fragments, which he pasted together, and in which the words 'reception' and 'Vengeance' occupied prominent positions; and before the business of the day was concluded in the nearest police office, the (late) Honourable Rollo Plantagenet Tallboise made his appearance in the dock.

I had this story from the lips of a clergyman who was soon afterwards thrown a good deal into his society-(being chaplain of a gaol) and who was much impressed by this gentleman's conduct and character. That he had been a swindler from his cradle was nothing for some swindlers have their good points; but he thought

him on the whole the most heartless villain that had ever come under his professional notice. A selfishness that soared to sublimity was combined in his case with a cruelty and arrogance that would have done honour to Cetewayo-that is, as painted by his enemies. (I would do no man wrong, and some assert that he is the Edward the Sixth of Caffreland.) Like all wretches of his stamp, he detested those on whom he had inflicted any injury; while simple and kindly natures, like those of his landlord and landlady, he not only looked upon as his natural prey, but any resistance on their part to his selfish greed, seemed a species of high treason. That he had been compelled, however delicately, by the worthy pair to leave comfortable lodgings after so ridiculously short a time as three months, he resented much as 'Mr. Alexander Nicalaievich' resents Nihilism; and it was the Chaplain's firm conviction that his attempt to extort money from his late host and hostess was a motive quite secondary to his desire for Vengeance.'

6

If the Rev. Gentleman was right, are not some philosophers a little hasty in attributing a certain modicum of good to everybody? and is it so certain that the worst possible use we can put a man to'—in all cases-is to hang him?

The Ballad of the Barmecide.

To one in Eastern clime,-'tis said,-
There came a man at eve with "Lo!
Friend, ere the day be dimmed and dead,
Hast thou a mind to feast, and know
Fair cates, and sweet wine's overflow?"
To whom that other fain replied—

"Lead on.
Not backward I nor slow;
-Where is thy feast, O Barmecide?"

Thereon the bidder passed and led

To where, apart from dust and glow,
They found a board with napery spread,
And gold, and glistering cups a-row.

"Eat," quoth the host, yet naught did show.
To whom his guest-" Thy board is wide;
But barren is the cheer, I trow.
-Where is thy feast, O Barmecide?"

"Eat"-quoth the man not less, and fed
From meats unseen, and made as though
He drank of wine both white and red.

"Eat,-ere the day to darkness grow. Short space and scant the Fates bestow!" What time his guest him wondering eyed, Muttering in wrath his beard below

IOT

Queen of the Meadow.

BY CHARLES GIBBON.

(The right of translation is reserved.)

CHAPTER XXX.

A PIPELIGHT.

SHE had forgotten all about the doctor's orders that Job was on no account to be excited. She did not know that at each succeeding visit the order had been insisted upon with increasing emphasis; and much of Michael's time was taken up in carrying out the injunction. All business matters were passed over as lightly as it was possible to do without making Job feel that everything was done and said to please him, because absolute quietude was necessary. His excursions to the garden-seat had become rapidly less frequent; and although the atmosphere was warm to those in health, he spent most of his time shivering before a fire in the parlour, the table drawn close to his chair with his desk and papers upon it. He still was pleased by the fancy that he was working to some purpose to retrieve his lost fortune.. His pipe and his favourite ale jug were also beside him. The Doctor had made an attempt to stop the ale, but Job became so violent when he detected the attempt that the ale jug was instantly ordered back to its place.

'It will make little difference,' said the Doctor kindly, as he bade Michael good-bye.

Michael had not told Polly how very serious the position of his father had become; he did not like to worry her with the details of the steady progress towards the end.

The thought uppermost in her mind at this moment was that she must assure herself of the truth or falsehood of what she had been told. If it proved to be false, there could be no pardon for the man who had told her such a wicked lie. Yet he had not attempted to extort any promise from her. He had acted straightforwardly; he was himself conducting her as fast as he could to the place where she might most easily put his words to the proof. This did not look like the action of one who was playing a petty trick in order to entrap her into an engagement by a pretence of magnanimity and disinterested affection. So far the argument

was in Walton's favour; and, if this strange story were true, the evasion with which Michael had met all her enquiries as to the results of the bank failure would be explained.

It might be true! As the idea assumed probability she felt dizzy and confused.

Jim was speeding along the road at a splendid pace; but the pace was slow to her impatience. Spears of sunlight flashed through the trees with dazzling brightness, and the hedgerows were almost grey with dust. The road, winding in and out like a yellow ribbon, seemed of interminable length, and the glimpses of it on the high ground a-head-fluttering through fields busy with harvest life, till it disappeared altogether amongst the trees on the horizon-suggested a journey that under the circumstances was one of torture.

Jim was pulled up sharply at the foot of the lane leading to Marshstead, and Polly was on the ground as soon as Walton, although he had leaped down the moment the horse stopped.

'I shall wait here,' he said.

She made no reply, but started up the lane with rapid steps. She was halfway towards the house before she could collect her thoughts at all. Then she checked her steps by a violent effort of self-control, and forced herself to walk slowly in spite of the impulsive desire to rush forward and to learn the best or the worst at She measured her steps; she even counted them in the strenuous endeavour to recover something like self-possession, and to realise what it was she was going to ask. She did not like to own how much this strange story had affected her, and she could not think calmly about how she was to act.

In spite of all her efforts, she entered the parlour with flushed cheeks and out of breath.

There was Job seated in the old-fashioned arm-chair, but he was propped up by pillows, a rug over his knees, and he was as close to the fire as he could be placed without danger. There was Michael standing near him, one hand full of papers, whilst the other turned them over as if he were busy searching for something.

Michael started on Polly's entrance, hastily dropped the papers, and advanced to her.

'It was very kind of you to come,' he said, taking her hand, and adding in a nervous undertone, Dad is wandering a good deal to-day, and you must not mind what he says.'

What are you jabbering about there?' grumbled the old man. 'Can't you speak up and let us know what it's all about? No secrets here, I tell you. I won't have them; they lead to trouble.