the pardon with more pleasure than the king granted it.

In common politeness Frederic was obliged to convey the minister back to his own house; but no sooner was that done, than he ordered the carriage to drive on to the prison, to communicate his joyful tidings to its sad inhabitant, the more joyful as her innocence was so completely established.

The gates opened at the order they had received from the minister, and with rapid steps they followed the gaoler along the gloomy passages of that abode of misery and guilt, towards the place were suffering innocence was unjustly immured.

66

They are at prayers, my lord," said the gaoler, as they arrived at the door of the cell.

"Make little noise then," replied Frederic, "for I would not disturb them suddenly."

"Oh sir," said the man, who was aware of the object of their visit, "good tidings

are

are always welcome; but I'll not make a noise."

The door opened slowly and silently, and presented to the view of lord Burton and his companion, the prisoner and her family, kneeling round a venerable clergyman, down whose aged cheek the tears of pity wandered, as he held his trembling hands over them in the act of benediction.

The prisoner, who was immediately opposite, slowly raised her eyes and person as the door of the cell opened.

"God of Heaven!" exclaimed Frederic, rushing forward, and clasping her to his bosom, "Louisa! my own Louisa !"

"She is saved! she is saved!" cried her father, throwing himself at lord Burton's feet, and clasping his knees in rapture. "I see it in his face. She is saved!"

Her brother grasped his hand in his— her little sister stretched her arms towards their deliverer-Louisa sobbed on his bosom-and the old clergyman, raising his

hands

hands to heaven, exclaimed-" May God bless you, excellent young man! May God bless you, as you have blessed!"

The scene was overpowering. Charles Melville wept like a child, and turning round to hide his own tears, he saw the warm drops of feeling streaming fast down the rough face of the turnkey.

What followed was scarcely understood by themselves, so rapid were Frederic's questions, and so inarticulate Louisa's replies; for her tears still continued to flow with hardly any intermission; indeed the only intelligible answers she gave, were the smiles which sparkled through the drops in her eyes, when she raised them to Frederic's countenance, telling him plainly that gratitude was not the only feeling she experienced towards him.

The confusion of first explanations have no business here; Louisa's tale was soon told, and soon understood. Miss Travers,

on the death of her uncle, doctor Wilson, after having lived in ease, elegance, and independence

independence for years, either obliged to look for father, whose income was

found herself

support to her

reduced to no

thing, or to go into some family as a governess; and she chose rather by her own exertions to contribute to her parent's comfort, than to burden him to maintain her. Her father, however, who still looked fondly to the coming on of better days, made it a point, before he would consent to her entering the family of lady Delmont, that she should change her name; and unwillingly she took that of Stanhope, which had been the name of her mother's half sister, who married, she said, a gentleman of Newcastle, and died very early.

Lord Burton started, but suppressed the exclamation that struggled for utterance; while Miss Travers proceeded.At Sturford Abbey commenced her first. acquaintance with him through whose means she had now been saved, and also a friendship which had nearly proved fatal

VOL. III.

L

to

to her with lady Jane Evelyn. On lady Delmont going to Switzerland, Louisa entered another family in London, without being well acquainted with their character and connexions. Here lady Jane's intimacy with her continued and increased, till in contemplation of her flight with captain Malcolm, she asked Miss Travers to give her change for the very note which proved afterwards to be forged. This Miss Travers obtained for her, giving her name at the shop where she procured it as Stanhope, and her address at the place where she then resided, in Portmansquare.

Shortly after this, the lady with whom she lived was obliged to follow her husband, who was a complete sharper, to Paris, whither he fled in order to avoid the consequences of some of his practices. Being under the necessity of now returning to her father, she resumed the name of Travers; and within a few weeks she was torn from the bedside of her parent,

who