Although the devil, instead of a dear friend of his, were there, Mr. Gordon."

They entered the General's presence together. He was a sharp-featured man; having a military air certainly-but one of an inferior kind. A scar through his lips, and down his chin, argued, indeed, effective service; but it also added to the ungentle expression of his countenance, and did not combat the presumption that fitness of natural character, rather than high achievement in the field, had recommended him to his late and present situation of despotic chief, judge, and all but executioner, at a terrible and merciless crisis.

At his right hand, stood Mr. Sheriff Kirk-also, Captain Kirk; the second title having been conferred by a command in one of the yeomanry corps of the town. He wore, of course, his military uniform, and did not lack the air of a soldier. Nor were his cool grey eyes, his yellow cheeks, and his steady mouth, evidences of a merely civil energy of official character. A few words more, glancing at his previous history, are required, for the knowledge we need to have of this individual.

Ten years before, he had kept a very humble shop in the town. A large reward was offered for the apprehension of a notorious robber. Mr. Kirk courageously issued into the country—returned with the highwayman- -got the reward-and never afterwards knew a poor day. Under the patronage of the noble person who dispensed corporate honours, he rose rapidly in the

world. At the breaking out of the Rebellion, no man could be more active in discovering hidden traitors, and dragging them to justice; some said, indeed, that on the principle of "sure hide, sure find," he might be supposed to be peculiarly adapted for the service. In the field, as a yeomanry officer, his zeal was equally conspicuous; for instance, after a skirmish with a band of United Irish, in a village some miles distant, two of the retreating peasants ran for shelter into a thatched chapel on the road-side, and Mr. Kirk pursued them, sword in hand, and dispatched the superstitious rebels on the steps of their little altar.

Henry Lane, when his host presented him to Sir A.D., wondered at the coldness of the General's bow. The undisguised sneer of Mr. Kirk did not surprise him. Upon his arrival, as the visitor of his father's oldest friend, Bessie Gordon was from home, and, amid the mixed society of the town, a daughter of the Captainsheriff received at his hands more passing gallantry than perhaps fell to the lot of the young ladies around her; but Bessie came-looked-and conquered; and, in consequence, Mr. Kirk and his " darling child" chose to consider themselves ill-used people. But we dare say the gentleman felt even more keenly a second injury. Henry Lane had snatched from his gripe an innocent man, from whose condemnation as a rebel, Mr. Kirk had expected to reap peculiar advantages.

Mr. Gordon preferred his own and his young friend's

request, that Harry might be permitted to remain during the interview about to commence. The General and Mr. Kirk exchanged very expressive glances and while, to Henry's increased amazement, the former said-"Certainly; though we could not suppose the young gentleman would be so anxious about it,"-the latter, almost to his consternation-smiled.

"In fact, sir, resumed Sir A. D., our principal business here is-making as little noise as possible-to desire you to consider yourself a prisoner."

"On what account?" asked Henry.

'Why, sir, we hope you may be able to tell us something of the insurrection of this morning;-you were observed on the road to Killane, hiding behind a fence, when, as is presumed, you found yourself likely to be overtaken by the retreating Hessians."

Henry Lane now asked another, and a very impolitic question; one that seemed almost to imply guilt; instead of at once communicating the information it was his duty to submit. But his curiosity to ascertain who had observed him, when he felt convinced the Hessians had not, threw him off his guard.

"Observed! by whom?"-he demanded.

"I regret to say, by me, Mr. Lane," continued Captain Kirk; "I happened to be in the fields, at your back."

"Then you dogged me, like the spy and informer you are, sir," said the accused, giving way to youthful passion. He was severely checked by the General, and

advised to speak more to the point. Much grieved and alarmed, his old host whispered him to be cool and collected this, as is sometimes the case with persons in his situation, only made him less tractable. He vociferated;-he gesticulated;—he unbuttoned his coat, violently; and there was an exclamation from the General and his prime-minister, as both pointed to a large bloody stain on his waistcoat. Henry had received it while assisting the unfortunate young woman to the farm-house; had buttoned his coat over it, as he returned to the town; had almost forgotten it, since; and had now unconsciously disclosed it. Feeling aware how much it must tell against him, he became silent and confused, and, to the scrutinizing eyes which observed him, appeared really guilty.

"Pray, Mr. Lane," continued Sir A. D., "inform us, at last, if you please, why you concealed yourself from the Hessians, and in what manner your waistcoat became soiled."

Courageously rallying, Henry said frankly what he had to say. The General and Mr. Kirk again glanced at each other; and the former, shaking his head, expressed his regret that, in the very improbable story submitted-and so tardily submitted-he saw little that ought to keep the matter from the ordinary test of a court-martial.

"Very well, sir," said Henry, "only send for the poor girl, and if she is able to attend❞—(and his blood grew

chill at the thought that she might be dead, without having uttered a word!) "I can laugh with scorn at the result."

The General believed that, whether she could attend or not, Mr. Lane would hardly be benefited; it was already in evidence from the two Hessians, that they had wounded one-and only one-of the motley rabble; that one, a woman, and, necessarily, the witness appealed to; and any convenient story she might tell, was scarcely worth the trouble of sending for; particularly as a dispatch to Killane must put the rebels on their guard against the intended attack; "and," continued Sir A. D., "as we only await the closing of the present case to march for their position."

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Well aware of the prompt manner in which the General had hitherto deemed himself compelled to " close" such " cases as the present," Henry again began to exclaim against his mode of proceeding: "What! is an innocent man to be destroyed by the very villains he seeks to bring to justice?"

Mr. Gordon, quite terrified, raised his voice in entreaties for time and cool investigation. A whisper from the Captain-sheriff disposed of his appeal; and that gentleman then stepped out, and returned with two dragoons, who placed themselves at either side of the prisoner.

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"In the name of common sense!" still conjured Henry, how can I be supposed capable of the absur