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utilated head? Listen to me, George Ef- fingham. I know you well, and I have watched you long. It was to snatch you like abrand from the burning that I ventured, here into Oxford, into the very camp andl stronghold of my enemies, and I will save you from destructionâ€"save you for that my heart yearneth towards you as doth a moth- er’s towards her first-horn. They took me prisoner as I neared the godless city, and bound me on one of their war-horses, and brought me into their guardrooms ; and mocked me in the ribaldry of their mirth; and I was dumb, and spake not. Then did one of their captains. a young and well-favored Malignant, whom the soldiers accosted with the blasphemous title of Lord Francis, take pity on me, and bade his men of war to scourge me. and let me go. ‘Verily the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel.’ I was stripped and bound to their accursed halberds; and two sons of Belial, tall and strong, and stimulated with strong drink, were appointed for my executioners, when the young Malignant again interposed, and I was suffered to depart, an object of derision and scorn. and cruel mockery, which I pray may not be visited on my persecutors in an. other world. Then did I flee to the vault in which we met, athirst for the living water. of which tonight we have both drunk freely, 4am} .yet not athirst for myself alone. It was borne in upon me that he for whom I have prayed and wrestled would be there too, and I found him for whom I looked seeking his portion with the children of the congregation. Verily, my prayers have been answered. Verily, the truth hath prevailed; and now will not you, George Ellingham, east in your lot with the elect for time and for eternity ‘2” “ The hand" himself vxw one of the last to leave in: vault. The concluding; words uf the sermon he had just heard seemed to ring in his ears ; the wild, eager, implm‘ing face to he 9‘, ll before his eyes. ” Why will ya die ?” The appeal seemed at once so appro- priate and so natural, the admonition so friendly, the warning so well-timed. It. was Ithe spark to the train of gunpowder, the cor- HOLMBY HOUSE 1 Pr-stoue to the edifice, the appeal to the eelings where the Reason had long ago been satisfied. Effingham had been for months a Puritan from conviction 1 he was now, as he was forcud to confess himself, a Roundhead and n uhel at his'hoart. As he ascended the steps leading from the vault into the shop, an aim was thrust under his own. and looking; round he discovered that the only remaining inâ€" dividiml of the congregaion was about to depart in his company, and signified his intention of so doing in this somewhat un- cereniunions manner. It was the same per- son who l|.ul stood next him on his first en- trance. and whose mutilated head here so fcarl'ul a witness to the sincerity of his pro- fessions, “You may trust me,” said he ah- ruptly. and without any further apology or explanation; ”I am a friend and brother. I can read your soul, young man ; and you are with Us, though not or” us. 'The voice is Jacob‘s voice, though the hands are the hands of Esau.’ I marked you when the shepherd invited you to the flock; and I cannot be de- ceived. Will you cast in your lot with the children of the congregation ‘2” Contrary to his wont, Effingham felt con~ fused, and, so to speak. taken by surprise at this sudden reading of his inmost feelings by a thorough stranger. He could not but acknowledge that they were interpreted aright ; yet his bold, masculine mind shrank from the avowul that lns actual sentiments were so opposed to the profession he had adopted, nay, to the very clothes he wore, A blush, half of eagerness, half of shame, clothed his bronzod features as he replied, “I would fain see a more righteous party at the head of affairs. I would fain see a Godly Government, and a people living in peace and morality, and the enjoyment of civil as well as religious liberty. But I am a soldier of the Crown; I bear the King’s commission; what am I to do? And yet,” he added abstractedly, and more as it were to himself than to his com- panion. “ I have often thought ere this that Heaven is not on our side.” ' “ Can you doubt it ‘2” eagerly urged the stranger, his features lighting up with enthu. siasm and excitement. “ Can you doubt that He whom we serve takes care of his own? Have I not survived the degradation of the pillory, despising the shame, and endured the torment, regardless of the pain, in looking for the martyr’s crownâ€"the crown that shall be doubly set with brilliants because of this They had already reached the street, and were pacing thoughtfully along in the moon- light. One solitary figure walked slowly on before them. It was the preacher; his head bent clown. his whole being wrapped in medita‘ion. They neared 111m rapidly, and were in the act of passing him when Ef- fingham replied to the fervent appeal of his companion :â€" “ Could I do it with honor, I would shake to-morro'w the very dust of the Court from ofi my feet. And yet what is earthly honor compared to eternal life? My friend lâ€"if in- deed you are my friendâ€"I have never sought counsel yet from mortal man. I ask 1t now in my present strait, in the agony of my doubts. Are ye not too rashâ€"too violent ‘2 Is there no possibility of saving our country, my, and our religion, Without bloodshed? Must we be all at each other’s throats, in the name of peace and goodwill? Counsel me, I pray, for I am sorely distracted even to the very harrowing of my soul.” The stranger locked at him with a satisfied air. “ The seed has fallen on good ground,” he muttered; “ let it remain there and fruc- tify.” Then added aloud, “ I will talk with you again on these matters. The night is now for advanced. Tomorrow I will seek you at your own quarters. I know where you lie; fear not, George Elfinglmm, I will be with you in secret and unobserved.” ___. 1 With these words he turned up a bye- street, and was soon out of sight, leaving Effingham a few paces in advance of the preacher, who now walked quietly up to him, laid Ins hand on the young man's shoulder, and looking into his face once more with the same Wild. imploring, mournful glance, whis- pered in his ear, “He that is not with me is against me. Turn ye. turn ye. why will ye die ‘2” And he, too, disappeared like some unearthly vision that leaves behind it only a fuelling ol dread uneeituinty and supernatv ural fear. Eifingham paced on, absorbed in medita- tion. \Vith it strong sense of religion, that Wanted but the stimulus of suffering and con. sciousness of oppression to be fanned into the flame of fanaticism, he likewise enter- tained the feelings of a soldier on the point of honor and the sacred duty of remaining stench to the banner under which he had once enlisted. It was a conflict that tore and vexed the strong man’s mind to the verge of madness. Combining a wild and dreamy enthusiasm with keen reasoning powers, the; imagination of a poet with the acute per? spieuity of alogieian, his was a nature above all others calculated to Suffer from religious doubts, appreciating as it did, on the one hand, the importance of the subject, and on the other, the probability of error, where error was fatal and irremediable. He longed for the solitude of his own chamber, there to compose his powerful mind, and drew his own conclusions, uninterrupted and alone ; and he never greeted his friend BosVille with so inhos< pitable a welcome, as when he found him installed in that bare apartment which he had hoped was to afford him a refuge for tho soli- tury meditation he required. M. ‘ - 1 -~»., ~77 - “ \Vhat have you been doing?" exclaimed Humphrey, grasping his friend’s hand with a cordiality which had in it something ominous- ly suggestive of it desire for advice or assist- ance. “ Where have you been spending the livelong nighi ‘2 I trust you have employed it bettsr than I have. I have been waiting hero for hours to see you; and have read through the whole of that blundcring tacti- cian's work without understanding a word of it. George, I’m in a devil of a scrape, and I want you to see me through it !” “ A woman, of course,” answered Efling- ham, jumping, at once, like the rest of man- kind, to the most charitable conclusion. “ 0h, BALD Humphrey ! I thought you knew better. I thought that even in Oxford you were too good to be lured like a. kestril by the flutter of a. petticout 01‘ the flirt of a fun. Young one, I’m ashamed of you ‘.” “Nay,” replied Humphrey, “It’s not so bad as that. Hear me. I’ve got into a quarrel, and we must fight it out according to the laws of the duello, and I want you to be one of my witnesses on the occasion. The worst of it is, it’s with Goring, and you see he is the general of our division." Ellingham drew a long breath, as if inex- prossibly re‘ieved. “\Vith (ioring '2" said he, “and you know he’s the host swordsman in the Royal army. Must you always fly at the highest game on the Wing? Well, well, go thy ways. Humphrey ; for a quiet amiable lad with far too much mother’s milk still left in his constitution, thou certainly hast an inor- dinate liking for the whistle of hot lead, and the clink of cold steel. Nevertheless, if we must fight him, we must ; and though it’s contrary to my principles, and I had rather you had picked a quarrel with any one of them, except Lunsford, who has brought back a curious thrust in tierce from amongst the Puritans, that they boast no Royalist can parry, yot Icannot leave thee,lad,in the lurch. So open that cupboard, where you will find a flash of mine host’s canary, and a couple of tall glasses ; and let me know all about it. In the first place. hast got the length of his weapon ‘2” Truly, the human mind, like the chameleon, takes its coloring from sur- rounding ohjects. A few minutes ago, and George Effingham was pondering deeply upon no less important 9: subject than his soul’s salvation : behold him now, at the spell of a few words busily engaged in planning a. combat a l’out- rance between his dearest friend and his superior officer. So the young men filled their glasses and measured the length of their weapons, and sat till daybreak arranging the preliminaries of the duel. MAN TO MAN. Morning broke with a thick fog. highly favorable to those who meditated such an undertaking as that of Bosville and his friend. Notwithstanding the licence and im- morality which pervaded the Court, and which the so-called laws of honor scarce reâ€" strained within the bounds of common decency, Charles,in a fit of eonseientiousness, had issued a most st1ingent order against the practice of duelling, and had th1eatened to inflict the punishment of mutilation lay the loss of the 1ight hand on any who should be found bold enough to t1anssress in this pointâ€"nay, under aggravated circumstances the penalty of death was to be exacted from the principals in the transaction. Such a state of things was not calculated to inspire with confidence the anxious belligerent who found himself thus hemmed in by a variety of ev1ls, of which it was scarcely possible for him to decide on choosing the least. The alternative of being scouted for a coward, or run through an empty stomach in the early morning, is suf~ ficiently unpleasant without the further aggra- vation of a gallows in perspective. should superior “cunning offence” or strength of body enable the successful combatant to turn the tables on his adversary ; and it is no won- der that Bosville wrapped himself in his cloak with a chill consciousness that the lmisty autumn morning was more than usual- ly raw and lowering, and a sort of dismal foreboding that the tufts of wet grass beneath his feet, saturated with the night dews, might prove a very cold and uncomfortable resting- place after some half a dozen passes with the keenest rapier in the Royal army. Perhaps it may have been reflections such as these which caused the young officer to hum a loyal air, expressive of great devotion to his Majesty, a. trifle louder than common. and to reply to his companion’s eagorin- quiries with a little more thanhis usml gaiety and carelessness, though to do him justice every note was in tune, and his manner. though excited, was as courtemus and kindly as ever. Mist or sunâ€" shine. up or down, in his stirrups 0L1 the good sorrel, or on his back amongst the wet grass, there was no white feather about. Humphrey Bosville. He and Eiiiughnm were first upon the ground. It was a secluded spot at all times, and in a fog impervious at a hundred yards, cfiered every appearance of uninterrupted ‘ secrecy. A meadow some two acres square, surrounded bye high blackthorn hedge not yet denuded of its leaves by the ca.lv1'10sts, and teeming with hips and bows and huge ripe blackberries overshadowed moreover b) a 1‘ cop close copsc of hazels in which the nuts were 1ipeuing and the birds fluttering, and the quiet hares stealing about to amp the rank wet herbage, was 110 likely place for in- truders at that early hour. A flat surface of thick. smooth turf afforded an excellent foot- hold ior the combatants, and a distant farm- house, from which, although its buildings were themselves unseen, the lowing of cows, 1 the cackling of flowls, and other bucolic sounds were distinctly audible. promised shelter and assistance in the event of fatal consequences to the lawless rcncontra. The two cavaliers looked about them, wrapped themselves closer in their cloaks, and walked to and fro, making loot tracks in the wet grass to keep themselves warm. “ I like a short blade best, after all," quoth , George Efiingham, after a few minutes of deep cogitutiou, during which he had been pe1fcctly silent, and his p1incipal had bummed the same bars of his song ever and over again “I like a shortblade best against a delicate fighter. You must force Goring to close fiuarters, Humphrey, us soon as you can.” “ A short blade on fo11t,alongo11e on horse- ’ back.” answered his hieud sententiously, and 5 than 1elapsed into a profound silence. It was evident them was something on the i minds of both foieign to the question of cmte and tierce, and thrust and parry, and all the ' jargon of polite murder. 1 “ Not here yet," observed Efiingham, once more peering through the fog on the lookout for the enemy. “Zounds, Humphrey, 1 must speak out, lad! Thou and i are no two raw fledgelings to keep up an affeotation of courage by pretending to ignore the presence of danger. Young as thou art I have seen thee tried, and I know thy mettle, manâ€"3y. as well as I know my own sword. ’Twns but yesterday, so to speak, we held the old farmhouse ogmnst Ireton’s pikes, and we’ve had many a ride togetlzer after Waller before our last allair at Newbury. Look ye here, 111d; Goring’s a good blade. He’s always in practice, and he's got a trick of turning his VOL. XXII. wrist down and coming in here ‘just ‘ under your elbow with a pass that has put ‘ many a tall follow on the grass. = You may get it in a queer place, Humphrey ] â€"111ind, I don’t say you will. Is there any- thing I can do for you, 1nd, any last word I can carry, if you should go back feet foremost into Oxford ?” ‘ Boswllo‘s loco hrightenod considerably. He pressed his friend’s hand as he replied : “ I have been thinking of it all the morn- ing, George, but it wasn’t for me, you know, 81 begin on such a subject. I don’t mind running my chance any more than my neighbors ; and somehow, though my life has become dearer to me in the last twentyâ€"four hours than it over was before, yet I feel as if I could lose it contentodly and happily too. There is one favor you can do me, George, and that I would entrust to no man alive but yourself; one thntI would only entrust to CHAPTER XIV. you at a moment like the present. George, I can depend upon you, I know. Give me your hanclraggin. Effinvgham shook him cordially by the hand. ”Name it,” he said; “if I‘m alive I’ll fulfil it for you.” “ ’Tis but a few words, a short message to deliver,” replied Bosville, with a smile that softened his whole face. “If I fall, and only if I fall, seek out n lndy in the courtâ€"yon have never seen her. but you know her by nmnedit is â€" it is Mistress Mury Cave" (he blushed and hesitated when he mentioned her name) ; “give her a glove you will find in my doublet, and tell her that I could not as a gentleman avoid this foolish quarrel, and that I regretted it chiefly because I had wished to devote my life wholly and exclu- sively to my sovereign. Tell her I have not forgotten What she mid to me ; that I reâ€" yeuted with my last breath, “ Loyalty before all l" And now, my dear Effingham, pro‘ mise me that you will not fight if you can help it. It is a foolish custom, and leads to no good that the seconds should be involved in the quarrel of their principals. Do me this favorâ€"promise me this, quick lâ€"here they come.” Even while he spoke two Cavaliers. cloaked and wrapped up like Humphrey and Elling- ham, loomed through the fog as they sur- mounted the stilo which gave them admit- tance at one angle of the orchard. They were talking and laughing loudly. It seemed they had neither regard for consequence nor fear of detection It was the fashion of the day to affect a haughty carelessness of bloodshed, and to look upon a duel as a pleasant opportunity for the interchange of lively sullies and jocose remarks. Indeed, until the late Royal edict it had been the practice for each of the original combatants to appear upon the ground attended by two, three, sometimes even as many as four assistants, chosen as I mark of the deepest respect amongst his own intimate friends. As these gentlemen esteemed it a high point of honor and an unpleasant privilege to engage their points with each other on their own accounts, and totally irrespective of the quarrels of their principals, it would sometimes happen that ten couples of reasoning beings, hitherto constant associates and sworn friends would be doing battle to the death upon such weighty question of dispute as the length of a lady’s eyelashes or the color of her breast-knots. Now, however, the threats of death and mu- tilation issued from the Council, and which extended to all concerned in a duel, whether plincipals or witnesses had somewhat (1: meed the aulor of the ltoyalists £01 this pmticular amusement and Gminp had a, .vsidered him- self sufficiently befriended by the single pres- ence of his worthless as iteiatt. Wicked Tom Lunsford, on whose arm he leaned heavily as he approached the ground, limping along with an afiectation of more than his usual lameness, probably with a View of enhancing his adversary's astonishment at the activity which he would too surely display when striDDed and with steel in his hand. He dofled his hat till its plume swept the grass, with a bow of supreme courtesy to his antagonist, who returned the salute with equally studied politeness; it being scrupul- ously exacted by the laws of arms that the duellist should assume an attitude of the most deferentiel humility towards the indivi- dual whose blood he proposed to shed, whilst to all else on the ground it was con- sidered good taste to behave with a boister- ous cordiality bordering upon the jocose. Goring, too, was in the best of humors. for in addition to the natural gratifi'zation which he derived from all scenes of this kind, he had passed the two or three previous hours much to his own satisfaction in imbibing burnt canary, and as it was too late to go to bed, in flinging a, quiet main or two with his second, which resulted, as usual, in his win- ning largely. True, Tom Lunsford would never pay him ; but still there was the pres- tige of success, and he now proposed himself the pleasure of running Bosville gracefully through the body, as an appropriate wind-up to hi: night’s amusement and preparation for his day’s duties and interview on business with the King. “ I fear we have kept you waiting, Cap- tain Effingham,” he remarked with a corâ€" dial greeting to that gentleman, for Goring lin-‘w every oflicer in his division, and his private pursuits and habits, better than iilose who only observed the surface of the goneral‘s character would have suspected. Eflingham started and colored violently ; ‘ his last night’s Visit was then knownâ€"and to Goring ‘. What if he should be denounced. seized, examined as a traitor l perhaps lose his life without striking another blow on either side. For a moment he forgot the ‘ duel and all about it. The image of Caryl and his martyr-friend rose upon his mind. 1 What would those good men think of him i nowâ€"what was he even now about to do ? i l i | Nevertheless habit, as it always is, was too strong for conscxence ; he maimed himself with an effort, returned Goring’s malicious leer with a haughty though respectful stare, and saluted Sir Thomas Lunsford with the punctilious politeness due to one whose sword- point might probably that morning be at his throat. The later, with a facetious remark anent the coldness of the weather, and a wish expressed with much unction. for a cup of 1 burnt sack, produced a small piece of tape 1 from beneath his cloak, and proceeded to ’ measure with it the swords of the combatants. “Right to a barley corn,” remarked the cavalier, returning to each the rapier he had borrowed of him with a. courteous bow. “ The morning is too row to waste your time in any further preliminaries, there- fore, gentlemen, if you please, we will strip and get to work at once.” “ My lameness must be my excuse, though Tom and I have hurried hither as fast as we could. Luusford, let me present to you Captain George Elfiugham, with whom, if you mean to try any of your cursed Puritan tricks, you will meet with your match, for he haé yourself.’ “ Hold 1” interrupted Ellingham, as the } duellists stripped to their doublets and hose, first baring their breasts to 5110);! that no un- fair defences, no secret cent of mail or proof euirass lurked beneath their garments, took up their posuions with watchful eager eyes and bare quivering blades, and an ugly smile on each man's countenance, paler than his wont, though each was brave, and wearing the peculiar net look that may be seen any day on the human face, uy, even in a com- mon street fight, when man is fairly pitted against men. “Hold, gentlemen! this due} is not to the death. Sir Thomas Lunsford, by your leave we will draw and stand across our men ; at the first fleshâ€"wound we can then strike their swords up, and proclaim sat- isfaction given and received 1” As he spoke the two principals lowered their points, but etiquette forbade that either should speak a word; strictly. they ought to have appeared totally unconscious that any remark had been made, but although their ground was taken they had not yet crossed swords, and the duel had not begun. Lunsford laughed loudly as he replied, “Hardly. Captain Effingham ; mm think what cold work it would be for you and me standing to 100k on. Besides. air," he added, in a graver voice, “consider the provocation. a blow struck and not returned I Really, Captain. your notions of honor must have been somewhat. tarnished amongst your Puritan friends, when you can talk of bring- iug out four cavaliers such a long Walk on been with the crép-em‘s later than RICHMOND HILL, THURSDAY, OCT. 23, 1879. such a dark morning for a mere child‘s-play you describe. No, sir, we decline anything but the last satisfaction, Be good enough to waste no more time about it, but place your man and begin 1” “ Their blood be on their own head I” muttered Eflingham, as he advancedto Bos- ville once more. and, squeezing his hand, placed him on the exact spot which the laws of the duello marked out for him ; then cast- ing his cloak and plumed hatnpon the ground drawing his trusty rapier and talking up his own position, “on guard," exactly six pacesâ€" the prescribed distanceâ€"m1 the right of his friend, he called upon Lunsfm'd to do like- wise, reminding liim that “when u duel is to be fought out to death, it is incumbent on the seconds to mark their sense of the gravity of the business by engaging themselves,” and adding,’with peculiar courtesy, “I hope Sir Thomas Lunsford will not disappoint me of a lesson in fencing from the best blade now in Oxford." “ At your service. sir.” replied Sir Thomas Lunsford, who could scarcely refuse to accept so rational an invitation. but whose secret in- clinations for a “ pass or two” were but little stimulated by George’s square muscular fig- ure, easy attitude of practised swordsman- ship and dark determined face, on which a, remarkably dangerous look was gathering about the brows. As he spoke he also drew, and placed himself in position, and the four men crossed their thirsty blades at the same moment, with the some terrible expression, the family likeness inherited from Cain com- ing out fierce and ghastly on each forbidding face. Humphrey Bosville was a young, active man, a complete swordsman, and of a bold determined nature, but he was no match for his antagonist, who, to the confirmed strength of mature manhood, added the ready facility of incessant practice. and the immovable calmness peculiar to his own cold vigilant na- ture. Man of pleasure. drunkard, debauchec as he was, Goring’s passions, however strong- ly they might be agitated, worked below the surface ; nothing ever seemed to shake his nerve or discompose his equanimity. Even now. fighting to the death, an exasperated enemy in his front, and a glittering small- sword thirsting for his blood within a few inches of tho laced bosom of his shirt, his eye was as steady, his color as unvarying, his whole demeanor as cool and insolent, as though he had been standing in the presence-cham- ber or sitting at the council. In this he had a great advantage over his adversary, who. with all the exeiteable feelings of youth. he- came less and less wary as he warmed to his work, and once or twice laid himself open to a thrust that might have put an end to the 'combat by inflicting on him a pretty smart- flesh wound, such as should incapacitate him from again holding a sword forawhile. This however, was not Goring’s object. In a con- versation with his second on their way to the ground, he had laid a bot of ten gold pieces that he would run his antagonist through the body without himself receiving a scratch. and he had made up his mind to do so by bring- ing into play a thrust in tierce for which he was celebrated,and which if unskilfully par- ried was a certainty. This deadly manoeuvre, however, to be successfully carried out. do- manded a very exact measurement of space, so, while Humphrey attacked fiercely again and'again with all the iinpetuous ardour of his disposition, the more practised ducllist lunged and parricd and returned and travers- ed here and there, and drew his man inch by inch within the fatal distance. . , ‘M 1n the mean time, Sir ThOm’ao Q mull and George Eflingham. exchanging, to use the language of the day, “a. friendly pass or two," to fill up the time, were sufficiently en- gaged with their own struggle to have but little observation to share for their principals. The kniglit,however,weakened by his excesses, and of feebler frame than his antagonist. swon found himself a. more child in the hands of so powerful a fighter as the Cavalier cap- tain. Twice he tried the ruse he had learned amongst the Puritans, and each time he found himself foiled by the iron arm and wrist opposed to him ; twice he was driven from his ground, and only regained it by making in turn a furious attack, which left him each time more faint and breathless than before. Wicked Tom Lunsford thought his hour was come; and so it would have come indeed had Eflingham been such another as himself; but George’s heart, though he knew it not, was softened by his last night’s com- pany and conversation. Amidst the struggles of conscience had arisen a. strange, awful sense of responsibility ; and even in the heat and hurry of the assault, something seemed to whisper, “ Shall this man’s blood too be on thy head ?” So he contented him- self with forcing his adversary to a disadvan- tage, and then rapidly disarming him by sheer superiority of strength. As Lunsfonl’s sword flew several paces from his hand. a heavy fall and a deep groan withdrew Elfingham’s at- tention irom his own helpless enemy. Bos- VIlle was down at full length upon the wet grass. and Goring was wiping his bloody rapier carefully upon his glove ere he returned it to its sheath. It was no time for punctilious courtesy. The acenrsed thrust had done its duty well. Humphrey’s face was deadly pale ; there were livid circles round his eyes, and the dark blood was Welling up from his chest and saturating the white front of his delicate Flanders shirt. George’s heart stopped heat- ing as he knelt over his comrade to examine the wound. Even Goring was touched ; and the man who had inflicted the injuryâ€"the man who but one short minute ago had hate burning in his eye and murder lurking in his heartâ€"would have given his best horse, little as he valued human life, that he had left the deed undone. " l‘ake care of him. Tom,” said he, \vmp- ping his cloak around him as he prepared to return to Oxford by another route, the only precmztlon he thought it necessary to take against discovery, “and mind you owe me ten gold pieces fairly won. D it, I wish I hadn’t too," he added, as he strole away; “he was a fine bold lad, and the prettiest horseman I had in my whole division." Lunsford and Elfingham, now fast friends, lifted poor Humphrey between them, and ob- taining assistance at the farmhouse, bore him back with them to Oxford. As they enâ€" tered the 0111 city. morning service had but just concluded, and the hells were ushering ll] the (lily with u holy peaceful chime. And yet what a, day’s work llfld these men already finished '. what a host of evil passions hml they ccllei no only to be alloyed with blood ! and now the blood was spilt‘ were the passions inning one whit lees fiercelytlmn before? \Vould not fresh proâ€" vocation produce fresh crime, and so on, ad irrfimitmu '? Sin seems to be like hunger and thirst‘ repentance but the lassitude of reple- tion ; anon we hunger rind thirst again, and eat and drink our fill once moreâ€"only this once moresâ€"and then we are sorry for it, and promise faithfully this transgression shall be 1the lastâ€"till the next timeâ€"and so audax mmzia, pcrpcti gms hmnana ruit ; and know- ing this, we, who are never weary of requiring forgiveness, can refuse to forgive each other. Oh. man l. man I created but a “ little lower than the angels,” how much higher wouldst thou be than the devils. if left to perish help- less by thyself. CB AFTER XV (moss PURPOSES. Sir Giles Allonby, whistling cheerfully as he emerged from his lodgings to commence the military duties of his day, was no less horrified than astonished at the first sight that met his eyes in the street. A limp, help- less body. from which the life seemed to be ebbing rapidly away, covered with a dark cloak, was being borne upon a rude litter, formed hastily of a couple of hurdles, and a hedgestake or two, by four stout rustics, whom Sir Thomas Lunsford, with many oaths and entreaties, was adjuring to move as easily as possible to their burthen. Efiing- ham, with a lace handkerchief in his hand, was wiping the froth from the lips of the sufferer, and the countenance of each Cavalier was darkened With an expression of ominous foreboding as to the result. Sir Giles, who expected to encounter nothing more alarming at that early hour than a tumbril of ammuni- tion, a wagon-load of rations, 01' a drunken trooper deserving of the guard-room return. ing from his night’s debauch, was fairly startled out of his self-command by the ghastly procession. "Zounds, Tom,” said he, laying his hand upon Lunsford’s arm, “what mischief have you been at already since daybreak ? This is some of your nu.» cursed tilting-work, I’ll be sworn. Your stuc- catos and passados. and cursed Italian tricks of fence, that leave a good back-swordsman as helpless as a salmon on a :zravrl-walk. Who is it now that your quips and your punc- tilios, and your foints and your ins-and-outs, have placed heels uppermost, when the King sadly lacks soldiers, and every man’s life is due to his sovereign? Who is it ‘3 Tell mu, man, before I turn the guard out, and bring ye all up before the Council, who will take such order with ye that ye shall never so ‘ much as handle a. riding-wand again 1” Lunsford, with all his impudence, was fair- ly brow- beaten by the old man’ s vehemenne. “ y,Hold Sir Giles,” he gasped out quite hum- bly. “The fig ht was a. iaii fight, and Cup- win Bosvillo bought it on himself. There is life in him still, Sir G1les, and leech-craft may bring him round yet. What. man, ’tis but a hole in his doublet, after 1111. and the fight was a fair fight, and fought with proper witnesses; ask Captain Effingham if ’twas not." “ Bosville l” exclaimed old Sir Giles, the tears filling fast in his keen blue eyes, though with the instinctive re- puglmnce of a good heart to a bad one, he turned from Lunsford, and dashed them away with the back of his hand. “Bosville ; the best led in the whole Royal army. The bravest, the kindest. the cheeriest. Here the old man’s voice feltered, and he was forced, as it were, to bully himself into composure again. “Had it been ranting Will Scarthe, new, or fierce Nick Crispe, or thyself, Tom, who art never out of mischief save when the rest of us are fighting, I had said never a, word. But Bosvillc,” he muttered under his breath, “Bosville was worth a. thousand of ye all. Within, there i” he cried, raising his voice, and turning back towards his own door. “Grace ! Mary ! make ready the tapestry chamber. He lies nowhere but here. Steady there, men ; hear him gently up the steps. Do you, sir,” to Effinghum, "run for a sur- geon; one practises at yonder shop, where you see the pole. Sound a gallop. sir, and hasten, for your life. My service to you, Sir Thomas Lunsiord ; if this turns out badly, it will be a black day for some of ye when Prince Rupert comes to hear of it, or my name's not Giles Allouby.” As he spoke. the old Cavalier oflicer busied himself in removing the cloak from Bosville’s helpless form, and assisted in beating him up the steps and into his own house, where his servants 1elieved the rustics from their burthen. Those philosophe1',s having been dismissed with a handsome gratuity, re. turned to ther original obscurity, enlivened as long as the money lasted by a strenuous course of tippling, and many a, revised version of the adventure in which they had been engaged; whilst Humphrey, now for the first time exhibiting signs of re- turning consciousness, was carefully conveyed to the tapestried chamber. and there laid under a magnificent canopy, adorned with ominously funereal feathers, on a huge state bed. As they bore him upstairs, a pale scared face was seen looking over the banisters, be- longing to no less important a person than Faith herself, the conscious cause of all this disturbance and bloodshed. Breathless and trembling, she rushed instinctively to Mary Cave’s chamber, to bid her, as the bolder of the two, break the sad news to Grace Allonby; but Mary had not returned from her early service about the person of the Queen, to whom she was again attached, and Faith, he- sido herself with mingled feelings of terror, pity. and remorse, was Iain to seek her own pallet, and bury her face in the pillow in a fit of hysterical weeping, affording butlittle relief to her own agitation, and calculated to lead to no very decided result. Thus it came to pass that Grace Allonhy. leaving her chamber, neat, well dressed. and composed, to commence her 11¢in duties was met in the pusmwe by three or four ser- vants bearing that which to all appearance was a corpse, and allhou r11 bil Giles con- Sidemtely inter puma his tall pmsou bc- tween his daughter amid the glmstlv h111',the11 one glimpse which she caught was sufficient to assure her loving heart that it was Humphâ€" rey, and none but he, who lay erctchud out there before her eyes. Had Grace been a heroine of romance, she would have had two courses open to her. She might either have given vent to one piercing shriek, which would have rung in her listenâ€" ers’ ears till their dying day, and then, letting all her back hair down at once, have clasped both hands upon her heart, and fallen stono dead in the efiort, but always with a tasteful regard to the disposition of her draperies, 011 the floor ; or, with a lofty disdain for all feel- ing in such an emergency. but with a. stony glare and a white statue- like face, she might have bled him herself on her own responsi- bility with her own bodkin and so, seeing he had aheady bled nearly to the verge of the next world on his own account, have per- fected the sacrifice of the man she loved, and exhibited at the same time her own presence of mind and mistaken notions of the healing art. But Grace Allonby was no heroine, only a loving, timid, trusting young woman, so her knees knocked together, and her lips grew quite white and twitched while she spoke, but she managed to clasp her hands upon Sir Giles‘s shoulder, and to ask him what she wanted. “ Oh, father, father ! he's not quite â€"” she could not bring herself to say the wordâ€"~“ he’s only wounded ; only wounded. father 1” And she could not ask if he was dead, so she could not bring herself to think him dead. ’Tis always so with the young, with those who have never known sorrow. There is an elasticity about the heart that has never been broken down, which bears up and protests as it were against the possibility of despair. Who knows how often she had brooded over her love, the love she scarcely confessed even to herself in the depths of her virgin heart ; how many probabilities she had calculated, and possibilities she had fancied ; how many chances had occurred to her that he might not perhaps care for her ; that he might think her too plain, though her glass gave the lie to that ; or too ignor- ant, or too humble and foolish and girlish for such a Paladin as she imagined him ; how he might be separated from her by accident or duty, or her father’s command, but by death â€"â€"no, that. had never entered her head ; it could not be, she loved him so ; it could not be. When George Elfingham returned with the doctor, and the man of science, after shaking his own head and feeling his patient’s pulse, and probing his wound, and otherwise putting him to no small pain and discomfort, declared that life was still hang- ing by a thread, a thread, moreover, that only required great care, and his own con- stant skill, to become once more the silver cord which Goring’s rapier had so nearly severed, she felt scarcely grateful enough for the good news. she had been so persuaded of it all along. Die ! she neVer thought he was going, to die. He would get well. of course. quite well, and she would nurse him and wait upon him ; there could be no harm in that, and it would take a long time to restore him, and when he was quite strong again, not be- fore, he might leave them and go back to the army, to be wounded perhaps again. All this was consolatory, no doubt ; nevertheless she went to her chamber, and prayed her heart out upon her knees, weeping plentifully, you may be sure, and such prayers never hurt a Wounded man yet, to our thinking, nor a strong one either, for the matter of that. Happy he "'1' whom such tears are shed, such orisons (bib/ell up. George Effingham, returning from the doctor’s house, he having ec- companied that skilful practitioner home to his surgery, with lint, bandages, divers curi- ously colored phials, and other muni- tions of the plmrmacoporie, was somewhat startled to find an exceedingly fair and grace- ful young lady established in supreme com- mand of the sick-room, and issuing herordcrs with the tact and decision of one to whom such a situation was: neither new nor confus- ing. Indeed shrewd hlowsllad been going nowfor sometime between the Cavaliers and Round- hcads, and Grace had already been often pre- sent at the healing of a, broken-head, it sabre- cut, or the dangerous orifice of a musketâ€"ball. Therefore George, as we have said, thrusting his grim face into the halfdarkened chamber started as though at the presence of an angel of light when his eyes encountered those of the young lady, and it was with a degree of busln’ulness somewhat foreign to his nature that he assisted his new acquaintance in the disposition of the coverlets and pillows, and other arrangements for the ease of the suf- ferer. question and reply passing at the some time in subdued whispers, which promoted a far closer acquaintance in a short half-hour than would have sprung up under ordinary circumstances in a month, She soon came back, with a pale steady face and roll eyes, to take her place in the sick chamber, where, according to the custom of the time, she quickly established herself as nurse and switcher, and general directives of the whole 0: tablislnnent. There was less rnoclnnodesty in the days of which we write than in the present ; less fancied evil, less of that strange prudish virtue which jumps at once to the most improper conclusions, and which, if there be any truth in the old adage, that “ to the pure all things are pure,” must have some dark mental spots of its own to justify its suspicions. Though the manners of the Court were suiliciently cor- rupt, the great bulk of the higher classes were to the full as correct and decorous in their demeanor as those of the present time ; while fortrne purity and kindliness of heart, the charity that thinketh no evil, the generosity that forgiveth wrong, who shall say that the keen, high-minded Cavaliers, and their simple, straightforward dames, had not the best of it, as compared with the framework of our own cold, conventional, and somewhat cowardly state of society 7 with whose members the prime moral maxim is founded, not on what you do, but what people say of you ; who wink conveniently enough at the infraction of every commandment in the Deealogue, provided you are scrupulous to keep the eleventh, which they have them- selves added to it; and which says, “ thou shalt not be found out i" Perhaps a woman never appears to such advantage as when tending the sick, moving gently through the room, or bending tenderly over the couch of the sufferer. George fol‘ lowed her about with his eyes, and wondered as he gazed. This was the sort of woman he had never seen before, or, if he had, only in the conventional circles of society, never as now in her own home, that home’s prime ornament and chiefest blessing. Like many another, he had not ar- rived at manhood without experiencing cer» tain partialities for those of the other sex,â€" herc dazzled by a sparkling eye, there wooed by a saucy smile ; but his experience had hitherto lain amongst women of a far differâ€" ent class and character from Grace Allonby. I‘liylhs was all he could wish. nay, more bo1s- tcrous in her glee than accorded with George’s melancholy temperament; but Phyllis must first of all have a purse of gold chucked into her lup-â€"after that who so kind as Phyllis? Lalage, again, required constant devotion ; but it must be offered at her shrine in public for all the world to see, or it was valucless. and he who would win her smiles must be ; content to take them as they came, share ; alike with fifty rivals. So George’s higher - feelings soon revoltcd from free, daunting, flirting Lalage. He had got tired of woman’s society altogether, had devoted himself ardent- lyto his profession, was plunged heart and soul in the whirlpool of controversy, engaged in a , struggle of conscience against habit, preju- , dice, loyalty. and worldly honor; and now, just at the moment when of all times in his career he had least leisure and least inclination to wear a woman's chain, burst upon him the vision of what had been his ‘ideal all his lifeâ€"a. pure, high-bred, high- minded girl, simple and sincere as the veriest wild flower in the woodland. yet cultivated and refined as the most fashionable lady about the court. Alas, poor George Efling- ham ! It was in short and broken whispers that he explained to her the origin of the duel which had terminated so seriously. For once George Elfingham found himself quite elo- quent as he defended his friend, and threw all the blame of the affair on the aggressor. “It was your maid as I understand, Mistress Grace, who was so shamefully insulted by Goring, and Humphrey could not do other- wise, as a mall of honor and a gentleman, than interpose in her behalf. Had it been any other swordsman in the army we should have had the best of it ; but I knew from the first that trick in tierce of the General‘s would be too much for the young one. You see he feinted twice, doubled, disengaged, and then came in under the armâ€"thus. Pardon me, madam,” said George, interrupting himâ€" self as he caught the bewildered expression of his listener’s countenance, and half laughing that his own clumsy enthusiasm should have betrayed him into a disquieitism on swords- manship with a young lady. ” Par» don me, you cannot be interested in such details, but indeed it was no fault of Humphrey’s that he was led into this em- broilmcnt. He was always a chivalrous lad,‘ and a gallant, and one who would face any odds to defend the weak against the strong." And then he Went on to tell her how the young soldier now stretched out so pale and helpless on that bed had saved the child in a deadly cross fire at the attack of a small re- doubt in Flanders, and had held the back door of the farmhouse in \Viltshire so gal- lantly with his Single rapier against half a score of Ircton's pikcs ; and how he had given quarter to the tall corporal that thrust at him from behind after he had taken him prisoner at Kineton; and sundry other anecdotes ilâ€" lustrative of Humphrey’s chivalry and Hum- phrey’s tender heart. . . . 1 -. Hammiâ€" MHAhâ€"db-fihA riéiruuce listened with clasped hands and streaming eyes. “ I was sure it could not be his fault.” she said; and equally sure she WHOLE N0.1,108â€"N0, ‘20 M Teefy would have been doubtless. had all the wit- messes sworn and all fhejuries in England Law! 11111 1- vm 1 11m :111y111nount of proof Jr's-t1 .1, '- 1:1€‘1h 111the man she has mew a lo 11 111i :‘ 111,111.12) 011 the contrary, it want: “ML lin- mrse he hol1aves,the closer «111121111111 111111 11 unndhides him there, and 13011 to m 1119 her think ill 1- 1:1 1111;: x11 ly he wl .1» has a place in .1 1:11-11111: ~ 1 1111 striw 1n hear himself unlfmlx ul *lwll 11 11101111110Ll hulll and con- stunu ‘ I wee sun it could not be his fault, " she 11: peated, 11nd 1e1noved the looks that had fallen 11c1oss 111's brow, and propped the cush- ion underhis shoulders with such a tender caressing hand that rough George Effingham turned away his head to hide his emotion ; yet. there was a. strange feeling as of pain creeping about his heart too. :1 \\‘117111 ..- , 1- 2111'».-1,{1111:1...1( ~â€"And now even Spain talks seriously of an into: national exhibition. The Sheriff of Blair County, Pa“. levied upon a graveyard, and has advertised it for sale. VDm-iug a. third of the year the sun is never visible Ht Balmm'al Castle. ”Japan has fine mnendamized roads, on which the bifiycle is coming into high favor. â€"-â€"There are still nearly 5,000 women and girls employed about the coal mines of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ire- land. â€"At the solicitation of Dr. Keneuly. the Tichborne Claimant has consented to contest the representation of Nottingham at the next election. â€"-A Hindoo baker in Calcutta, proud of the English he has acquired, displays the Sign, “European Loufer‘i’ over his door. â€"~Eightenn new Austrian peers have just been gazetted, but only a few of them are known outside of Austria. The title of one is Baron Max Washington. â€"Recent income tax returns show that 90 persons in Great Britian, exercising trades and professions, have incomes over $250,000, and 994 between $50,000 and $250,000. â€"â€"The daughter of Stonewall Jackson is in 1161' 16th year, and is a tall, fair-haired girl. She has large gray eyes,gentle disposition and makes friends readily. She is in Baltimore at school. â€"â€"At La Grange, Texas, a. saloon keeper evades a Sunday law by assembling drinkers in his salami, when a. chapter or two of the Bible is read and discussed between the cop- ious libations of beer. â€"â€"A visitor to Humpstead Church, Eng, Where Circulation of the Blood Harvey lies buried, found his tomb decaying, and writes that his family is extinct in the male line, as is usual with great men. â€"-Mo]tke’s sister married an Englishman named Burt. whose daughter, by a. former wife, became the Marshal’s wife. She was 16, he 39. It was a. thorough love match. Moltke has a fine estate in Silesia, to which he is greatly attached. ~Tho area of British India, exclusive of native States, is 899.3111 square miles, the number of inhabited houses 37,043,524. and the population 191,090,603. The'area of the native States is stated at 575,265 square miles, and the population at 49,161,540. --Oscer J aqueth defaced the white exterior of a church at Bernardston. Muse, with big pictures of devils in red paint. At this time he was an unrepentant sinner ; but before his arrest he was converted, and on that account the church officers secured his release without punishment. -â€"Thc Paris Univers asserts that the Em- peror and Crown Prince of Germany have se- ceded from the Free Masons on account of their resistance to an inspection into their ar- chives by Dr. Schiflman, whom the Crown Prince wished to inquire into the origin and secret tendencies of Masonry. â€"-It was ooserved that the Widow Taylor. while in 3, Greenville (Miss.) court as plaintiff in a lawsuit, kept one hand in her pocket While the defendant was testifying. An in- vestigation showed that she had hold of a pistol. which she intended to use is the wit- ness made any departure from the truth. â€"An American engineer has been studying the great wall of China. It is 1,728 miles long, and, being built without the slightest regard to the configuration of the ground, is sometimes carried 1,000 feet down into abysses. Brooks and small rivers are bridged over by it and strong towers on both sides protect large rivers. ~â€"We have called on the Great Father at Washington for redress, and he told us to “ hmco up.” Are those the words of a. kind {ether to his children ? We asked again, and he told us to “ cheescit.” Is that the talk of it great chief ‘2 No l We are dropping 03 like autumn leaves. The toes of the red men are turning up on every sideâ€"Sitting Bull. â€"The wealthiest men in Kalamazoo, Mich., was approached in the street by an excited little boy, who said : “ Mister, my sister is in the flame, over there ; if you’ll get her out I’ll give you a dollar.” The man rescued the imporilled child. A few days afterward the hey entered his office and put on his desk a dollar in small coin, having broken open a toy bank and sold a hobby horse to raise the amount. â€"â€"'l‘he President of the Wesleyan Female Conference in England has issued a circular to the superintendents of circuits suggesting that a day should be set apart for “humilia- tion and supplieution before Almighty God on account of our national sins, and with espe- cial reference to the depression of our agricul- tural and our various manufacturing inter- ests, and the lamentable wars in which we are engaged, as well as to the decrease in the number of members in our societies.” -â€"The priest of it Roman Catholic church at Lincoln. Neb., requested the men of the congregation to draw some broken rocks from a ledge near by with which to repair the foundation of the edifice, but they failed to do it. Ahigh mass was announced a. few days later. but the people found the church closed at the time appointed. After they had waited an hour. the priest put his head out of the door and cried : “ No rocks. no mass.” They knew him to be a. man of his word. and the rocks were soon drawn. -Although John Frederick Will’s wife was 55 years old, and he only 30, he loved her better than any thing else in the world except rum. She told him that hemast give up one or the other, an], as he would not deprive himself of the liquor, she deprived him of the wife by getting a divorce. During six months he dogged her everywhere she went, eon- stantly entreating her to take him back. but never able to comply with the condition of total abstinence that she imposed. This was in Indianapolis, and that city is horrified with the wife murder and suicide with which Will closed his career. â€"- A curious piece of brutality was enacted on Sept. 20, in front of a. wine shop at the Boulevard de l’Hopital, in Paris. Two horse dealers had been drinking within, and one of them proposed that they should play for their horses, which were, waiting outside. The other ngreed, and the loser, determined that his adversary should not gain much by his luck, stabbed his poor animal as it stood in the street, and it instantly dropped dead. The spectators were so enraged that they would have lynched the ruflian had not the police interfered. -â€"Cl1arles F. Tiffany was convicted of big- may at Dearborn, Ind, and sentenced to three years in the penitentiary. He was pleased with the lightness of the penalty, and remained in high spirits until, in :i..x\ver to the question whether or not this con. Minn was a bar to prosecution for previous Lair.- mies, his lawyer told him that he could be pun- ished separately for every such offence. Then he retired to his cell and killed himself. was afterward ascertained that he had five wives, and his disappointment at not being able to make entire .expiation by one short term in prison drove him to suicide. AROUND THE WORLD [To BE CONTINUEDJ