to fulfil the labours of his vocation, and an equal sufficiency of time, after its completion, for the thirstiest and most convivial of men to indulge in his predilections to a degree at once healthful, invigorating, and extended. Such, Mr Speaker-my dear Charles, I mean-are the regulations of this house. In all other respects you are your own master, and having thus, in the shortest way possible, expressed the opinions of so humble an individual a plain independent gentleman -as myself, I refer you for more minute information, on all other subjects, to my daughter Harriet."

I promised an exact conformity to all his directions; and on looking more closely on Harriet Moreton, who, since I had last seen her two years ago, had overgrown her school days, and turned a fine, pure-complexioned English girl of nineteen years of age, I felt inclined to include his last command among those which I should obey most willingly. The house felt quite deserted, for none of the young men were at home; the Colonel devoted his mornings to the English newspapers, and, as we strongly suspected, from the sounds that occasionally were heard from the library, to the practice of oratory; and as I had nothing else to do, and Harriet seemed quite as unoccupied as I was, I betook myself, according to her father's recommendation, to the dangerous task of asking her questions. She was a fine, playful, openhearted girl, forming, in her womanliness and refinement, a strong contrast to the proud impetuous Leila, who had attracted me so much at Rouen, and whose image I could scarcely for a moment banish from my mind. I asked one morning, as indifferently as I could, what had become of Gerald. In a moment the playfulness of Harriet's manner disappeared. "Hush," she said, " my father has ordered his name never to be mentioned-something wrong poor Gerald has done, but we none of us know what it is. We only gather from what my father said, that he had mixed himself up with a very dangerous class of people in South America; and, in fact, that he had been inveigled, by some means or other, to unite himself with one of the hordes of banditti in that country, who live by plunder and the sword".

VOL. XLI. NO. CCLVII.

"And have you heard whether he is yet alive?"

"No; my father got all his information from some man with a Spanish name, a minister from one of the newly recognised states, but I believe he has heard nothing of poor Gerald for the last year."

"Then I have; and if the Colonel retains any interest with his informant, he may be useful in saving his nephew, if, poor fellow, he is not already dead.

"How did you hear of him-where was he?" But to this question I did not give so full an answer as I might have done. There was a feeling which I could not account for, that induced me to keep my acquaintance with Leila a profound secret; and I therefore briefly informed Harriet of the circumstances of Gerald's death or capture, without saying a word of my authority.

"Gerald slain, or in a dungeon! Oh, go this instant to my father! He is good, though he appears so cold. He will do all he can to save his nephew, for he always liked him, in spite of his wildness, and all his faults. Go, go." And the earnestness of her anxiety brought such animation to her whole bearing, that, when I looked on her quivering lips, and eyes half filled with tears, I could not help thinking that Harriet Moreton was lovelier even than the proudsouled Peruvian.

My interview with the Colonel was soon over. At first, when I mentioned the name of Gerald, a double portion of pomposity adorned his language. He said something about the impropriety of an honest independent gentleman, bound to no party, taking any interest in the fate of a young man who had so far deviated from the path of rectitude as to enlist under the banners of a lawless bandit; but when I told him the probable fate of the delinquent, the ice of his manner thawed in a moment; his words reduced themselves to two syllables, or even one; and had I not been in the room, I verily believe the independent gentleman would have shed tears of real sorrow. In a moment he had thrust Entick's Speaker under a pile of papers, seized his hat and cane, and started off in search of Don Diego De Souza, who, he believed, was luckily on a mission in Paris at the time, X

Well pleased with the success of this attempt to benefit poor Gerald, I returned to the gentle Harriet, and was rewarded for the interest I had taken in her cousin in a way that made me take every moment a deeper and warmer interest in herself. Among the questions that, in obedience to the Colonel's direction, I had a right to ask her, was one which trembled every moment on the tip of my tongue, namely, whether she did not think Montague a very pretty name; and, in fact, I believe I must have propounded some such interrogation, for, without knowing very well how, I found myself consulting Harriet on the alterations required in the old house in Hampshire, and speaking to her very earnestly on the necessity of becoming acquainted with Bishop Luscombe. But, in the mean time, hour after hour passed away, and the Colonel did not return. Even the magic hour of dinner went by without his appearance, and we began to augur unfavourably of his good news from De Souza. I had gone into my own wing of the house, and had thrown myself listlessly on the sofa, indulging in the dreams of future happiness which my conversation with Harriet had inspired; my door opened, but so noiselessly as not to wake me from my reverie, till a voice, close to my ear, startled me to my feet.

"I am come; for the barb is in my soul, and I can find no repose." Leila stood before me, her form muffled in a mantle, and her face so hidden that I could only recognise her by the thrilling tones of her voice.

"Have you heard of him, my brother?"

I told her what I had done. "'Tis well," she said; "the weight of this uncertainty is more intolerable than would be the full knowledge of my fate. Three days longer I will subdue my spirit-at the end of that time my sorrows end."

"How? what mean you?"

"Mean I? That there is a pillow tempting me to sleep where there is darkness and no sound-where the ear is not startled by the whisperings of fearful thoughts, where the eye is unscared by the glimmering of lurid dreams-why should I not press it, when my heart is so weary, and my eyes so heavy with slumber?"

"Why did you leave Rouen?" I said, anxious to turn the current of her thoughts, for I perceived that her grief had been too much for her.

"For the wretched can find no rest. Why did I leave the land where all that I loved has perished? Let me back-let me back to my wild rocks and bright skies. There would be peace to my spirit in the sights and sounds of my home. Give me my war-horse and my spear-let me again cleave foremost through the red cloud of battle-and let my veins, in which flows the proud blood of Peruvian kings, mingle its full stream with the torrents already poured forth by the brave and free !""

"Be calm," I said, taking her by the hand, which was burning with feverish heat- "Show yourself the lofty being that nature made you, and be mistress of yourself. Every hour I hope to hear the news of Gerald's safety. Banish such dreadful thoughts they are as foolish as they are sinful."

"Perhaps you are right," she answered, in a subdued tone-" Your advice is kind-I will strive to profit by it. But every moment that I stayed at Rouen, a voice was sounding in my ear, bidding me see you again, and again hear you name his name, and speak of him kindly, and bid me hope to be reunited to him. And I could not conquer the desire that came upon my soul to see the faces of his kindred, to tell them that, far away on the wild banks of the Tuchai, their names have been spoken to one that loved them for the sake of him who named them ;-that he was noble, and true, and brave, and that for his sake they ought to love me. And I longed to hear the sweet voice of his beautiful cousin, and see her soft blue eyes-once, only oncebefore I died".

Her voice faltered as she spoke, and her strength seemed about to fail her. I did not know what to do under these circumstances, but at last, believing that a few minutes' rest was what she principally required, I led her gently into the inner room, which I had converted into a library, and begged her to repose herself on the sofa for a short time. In the meanwhile, my situation was very embarrassing. With a foolish fear of being thought to have taken too deep an

interest in the fortunes of the beautiful Leila, I had never mentioned my acquaintance with her at Rouen. She had now, as it were, thrown herself on my care, and the difficulty of informing Harriet of all the circumstances was redoubled. While I was plunged in these thoughts, my door was pushed violently open

"Mr Charles Montague," said a voice half choked with passion," you are a scoundrel, sare!-as the poet says, A wretch, a villain, lost to sham and root"

And my friend, Monsieur de Rosigny, stood before me. Unluckily my mother was Irish, and my hand was on the poor gentleman's throat before I had time to remember my obligations to him.

"Villain, sir?-what the devil do you mean, you ineffable abortion?". but at the sound of my own voice my reason returned; and I let go my hold, waiting quietly what might follow after this extraordinary introduction.

"I have traced her from Rouen, sare-I have not lost sight of her for an hour, and I know that she is in this house. What do you say to that, eh ?"

"Who is in this house, sir?" I repeated, in order to gain time to form my resolution.

"My niece, sare!-the daughter of Alain! Do you deny that she is here, sare?"

"Monsieur de Rosigny, I beg you will speak in more measured language. Wherever the young lady may be, depend upon this fact, that she is as safe from wrong or insult as in your own house at Rouen."

"You confess, then, that you have her here?—here, under your protection?" He knocked his hand upon his brow; and at this moment the Colonel briskly entered. De Rosigny turned to him-" I appeal to you, sare; and I tell you that Mr Charles Montague is a thief-he has robbed me of that vich not enriches him, and leaves me poor indeed!"

The Colonel drew back." In rising, sir, to demand an explanation from the honourable gentleman;-I -I-that is to say-Charles, what the devil does this little fellow mean?" "Mean?—I tell you myself what I mean. I means he come into mine house he eats of my bread-he drinks

of my cup-he sees my niece-he then goes away,-my niece goes afterah!-as Bry Cronnel says

'He twiddled his thumb,
And said come, Dido, come,

And she's off with Æneas the rover, O!'"

The Colonel took a long pinch of snuff. "I am but a plain country gentleman," he said, "and have no great skill in unravelling an intricate plot; but if the suspicion be correct which this gentleman's language leads me to form, it is to me, Mr Montague, you shall answer;-you shall, by Heaven!- May I ask your name, sir?"

De Rosigny fumbled in his pocket, found his card, and gave it to the Colonel.

"Sir," he continued, "it is no extenuation of this offence to say it is committed in the family of a manufacturer of buttons. A man may make buttons, and yet have some faint sort of sentiment of honour; and this I say, in spite of the absurd prejudice against the lower classes entertained by a miserable class of politicians of the present time. I say, sir, that this Armaud Creque-Crick-that this humble artisan, Monsieur Crick of Rouen, feels the insult, sir, almost, perhaps, as much as if he were a gentleman."

"What you mean, sare?" exclaimed De Rosigny, in a greater passion than before. "Do you talk of me, sare, as if I were no gentleman ?—me that have the blazons of the Rosignys, the De Coucys, the Ermenonvilles? I tell you, sare, I was noble while the blood of the Moretons was a thick puddle in the veins of serfs."

At this address the anger of the Colonel changed its object altogether. "Charles," he said to me, "who is this ridiculous individual?—what is it you know of him?"

That he is a gentleman," I replied-" that he is chief of the De Rosignys, one of the noblest families in France; but that he accuses me unjustly of having imagined the slightest evil to him or his family."

"Then what is this card he has put into my hand about button-making at Rouen?"

"Oh, some mistake I suppose."

"No mistake, sare," interrupted De Rosigny. "I was poor-I made buttons-I am now rich, but my heart

was as proud when I was poor as now. But, ah! my friend, Mr Montague, you have spoken so well against the calumnies of this old man, that I cannot believe you have deceived metell me where poor Leila is the last of the Rosignys-the daughter of poor Alain."

،، She is here ! " said Leila, walking calmly forward into the middle of the room. Her mantle was thrown offher lips compressed, her step proud and graceful, and her whole appearance stately and commanding. The Colonel and De Rosigny were awed and silent.

"You asked for Leila," she continued, addressing her uncle-" she comes at your call. And was it for me you feared-for me you trembled ? and thought you that from me there was danger to your honour? Back to your looms and engines, where your soul has been ground down to dust, and leave the daughter of Sorigny to the guard of her own hand."

"Of Sorigny?" interrupted the Colonel, who was struck with a feeling near akin to reverence by the calm dignity of the strange and beautiful being before him.

"Yes, of Sorigny. The warrior, the patriot, the legislator of his adopt ed land, whom some, with the base hatred of cowards, and the baser servility of slaves, have called".

66

"A traitor," said the Colonel. "But from what I heard this very day from Don Diego de Souza, I believe the character of General de Sorigny has been most unjustly calumniated. My nephew, Gerald Moreton, who is on his way home".

"Home! home! thank Heaven!" If De Rosigny and I had not rushed forward to save her she would have fallen senseless on the floor. The Colonel, who forgot in the agitation of the moment the dignity of an inde pendent gentleman, ran helplessly about the room, but happily at last bethought him of summoning his daughter.

Matters were very soon explained. Gerald had been reclaimed by the English authorities as a British subject, and delivered from prison, on condition of leaving the country. The Colonel, who every day took a kinder interest in the Peruvian beauty, wait

ed impatiently the arrival of his nephew in London to summon him to Paris. ، I shall consider it my duty, under existing circumstances, to do every thing in my power to hurry matters to a final adjustment, through the medium of the sacred ceremonies of the church-ceremonies most unjustly undervalued by certain wretched statesmen of the existing crisis. Monsieur de Rosigny has given up the very honourable and highly useful branch of industry to which he had directed his cares, and his estate, I hear, is highly valuable. Gerald, also, has considerable patrimonial possessions, and the experience he has already gained will impress him with the indescribable advantages of peace and quiet. The marriage will take place in August

“Colonel,” I said, “Bishop Luscombe might perhaps be induced to make a little room for another couple at the same time, if you would have the kindness to ask him."

"Eh, what!"

"Why, Harriet and I, sir, have known each other for a long time, and"

"Hem! Sir! I am free to confess that in rising on this occasion-hemhem-sir-I say, there are paternal duties, duties unfortunately too much neglec--Poh! what nonsense it is to say any more-take her, my dear Charles, and my blessing with her." And the eyes of the no longer eloquent Colonel swam in tears as he shook me by the hand.

Early in September, when Gerald and I, with our young brides, made our first appearance at the Italian Opera, the house was almost equally divided in its admiration of Harriet and Leila. The Seigneur de Rosigny, with a star on his breast, and restored to all his titles and estates, who accompanied us, expressed perhaps what was the general opinion as well as his own. "Ah! those two beautiful creatures," he said, "put into my head the words of the English poet

Ven I look on the one I could swear
Dat none other was ever so fair;
Ven I look on the other I'd vow
None was ever so lovely till now.

To decide on the rivals I'm loth,
So here's in a bumper to both.
Hip, hurra!
A bumper, a bumper to both!'"

THERE are some trades in which the organ of knavery is inevitably protuberant. It would be difficult to find, for instance, a Jew slop-seller, a dealer in marine stores, or a small vintner of sloe juice and smuggled brandy, under the name of all the wines under the sun, from the meagre produce of the Cape to the lordly luxury of Madeira, without pretty particular evidence of the activity of this popular organ. But the tribe in which it essentially predominates, indeed almost to the absorption of every other, is that connected with whips, horses, stages, short and long, racing calendars, cabs, and hackney

coaches. We are not sure that steeple-chases themselves, though under the superintendence of the renowned Mr Osbaldiston, may not be scenes of very considerable knavery. The miraculous exploits of the two Irish patriots in turning four-year-old horses into colts of two, with other happy dexterities recorded in the annals of the Irish Jockey Club, are fresh within memory; which exploits, however, have not impaired their previous character a tittle, and have left them only more patriotic, high-minded, and pure in the minds of the generous friends of O'Connell and public principle all round the world. Those recollections give rather a slippery idea of the morality of the stable (punica fides), show that the bridle is more easily managed in the mouth of the horse than in the conscience of his rider, and that whatever part of the racing machinery wants a spur, it is certainly not the taste for swindling. However, to descend from generals to particulars. A happy instance occurred within these few days, of the biter bit, a minute, but remarkably well applied lash to the sensibilities of a driving rogue. The omnibuses are convenient things, but have the misfortune to be attended by a most impudent and knavish set of fellows, called conductors. They canvass for company along the road, throwing themselves into telegraphic attitudes, pack them in when they can catch them, give them a shove into the huge trunk, letting them tumble into them, over knees and feet into their places,

and receive their sixpences, when they let them down, which, by a practical joke, they regularly do in the most miry part of the street, road, or highway.

General Sir John Waters having arrived at Blackwall, by a steamer, engaged one of the Blackwall omnibuses to carry himself and his party with their luggage to his house in Clarges Street, Piccadilly, for a sovereign. This was a handsome allowance; for the regular fare is, we believe, but sixpence a-head. The omnibus proceeded, but on reaching Hatchets in Piccadilly, a few hundred yards from Clarges' Street, it came to a dead stop; the conductor saying that his bargain was over there. The fact was, that the honest conductor had begun to think that a little more might be squeezed out of the General, who would probably not like being set down, baggage and all, in the centre of Piccadilly. The General certainly did not like it at all, and told his mind on the subject without any circumlocution whatever. Still the conductor was steady, but, after some consideration, said, rather than put the party to trouble, he would take them home for five shillings more. The General shrewdly acquiesced, paid the knave his twentyfive shillings, was conveyed home, and in a day or two after, retaliated by a summons to the proprietor of the omnibus to answer at Bow Street for "using his stage as a hackney-coach, without being duly licensed."

The question was clear; the case was settled in a moment; the conductor had completely outwitted himself by the five shilling extortion. Sir F. Roe, the magistrate, said, that no doubt could exist that the law had been violated in the second hiring. "The defendant's servants had misconducted themselves most grossly, and the full penalty of L. 10, with costs, must be inflicted." Sir John Waters desired that the five pounds which became his as the informer, should be given to the poor-box of the office. The fine was paid, which, of course, the proprietor will deduct from the wages of the conductor, and a very happy ex