ag

will en ; i

—_

Vol. AXEL

“This is true Liberty, when Evceborn Men, having to advise the Public, may speak frec.”’---Euripides.

Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, Monday, July 21, 1862.

cd intienaiattcnenishaliies a

lolol eee

, Ne Series.---No. 28,

ore

LITERATURE.

LLL LPL LALLA DALAL OLD fHE SOLDIERS OF THE CROSs.

She still continued quiet and silent, and I remained anxiously watching by her. At length she said in a sort of hoarse whisper : ‘*L am notasieep; [ think I can move now.”

I raised her up in my arms; [ felt as if £

had been greatly nourished and increased by

the strange solitude of her life. A mind of any superior stamp could never have suc-

Lomhelt as hers did, into the dead calm in| ' which she appears to have spent the greater | | portion of her time ; and one of only average }energy and spirit would assuredly have re- sisted, in some measure, the numbing influen- | ces which surrounded her, and have gained as | much as, under such cruel disadvantages, | could be acquired from books, mental effort, and memory. On the other hand, a more

‘was a rougher sort of person, bat a truly | around his head, except a little space before the blush to my cheeks, was the coming for-

'selfin drawing, and [ undertook to assist!

modes of commnnieation with him which an-! (that it was difficult at a first look to tel! could play my part, and to what extent I} swered most of the purposes of ordinary con-| whether he belonged to the white race or | could carry the deception.

versation, We knew his mother, in the first) got. His face, high up on his cheeks, was, I asked for lodging for the night, and instance, owing. tp her eupplying US With) covered with a dirty brown beard, aad bis ‘something to eat, aad was kindly and hos- milk and poultry. She was an excellent, : P . ; be ~ , °

sensible, well-mannered woman. The father | matted hair hung in wild profusion all! pitably received. The first thing that sent good und kind-hearted man. Both doated on | his swollen, blood-shot eyes, and altogether | ward of the young lady, about eighteen, their unfortunate son, and I soon won their) he looked like a madman or human devil. beautiful as an houri, and in a sweet, gentle hearts by my knowledge of the finger alpha | iis hands held and swung a formidable club, | tone, asking me if { had walked far, if I was

bet. The son was anxious to improve him- and his attitude, as he leaped into the road much fatigued, offering to take my hood, and |

with redoubled energy, dispelling the gloom which now hangs over the scene, and not rest- ing until he is in undisputed ion of the Confederate stostigehe: If the Confederates pursue the policy hitherto adopted, McCellan may _ Richmond without much loss of life; bat if they determine to change their tactics, - and are willing to hazard a general battle, his army will never march into Richmond uniesa it be over the corpses of thousands of his oppo-

iments. The surrender of Richmond, whether

quietly or by force, will be a great blow to the

|before me, was one of fierce menace and teiliog me L should soon be refreshed with

Southern Confoderacy. All Virginia will be

Ther tell weof the paladius, the knights of feudal . times knew not how to be kind enough to her, and ’ shed t tenyy wil the light of | could not restrain my tears as I gently As ines kissed her brow. She felt them falling on W sare i r ‘ ft . . } \ ‘ : I l ber face, and she said: *‘1 believe you—1} A i tha their Master's sight they trast you;’’ and she jaid ber head on my wr ta pleasing werk shoulder and wept calmly — I might say } , .| sweetly, so much the tears seemed to soothe : pan apa PF SRF NPS RESO and relieve her. Very soon ft was able to \ ' ” , . And neath its glow of flame and snow these war. prepare her for her removal. She tied the + lowed to fight hounet herself, and helped me with the As ! life od stained the plain, they shawl. 1 saw plainly that her dress was one yraree ‘ * v4 ’ fs 7 , i en - 7. i. ahi il s m . ' Wo die the gory battle death as “ Soldiers of the ol Lady biggat mS uk Wrapping-¢ us, and Groes.” i¢ hung awkwardly upon her; but her head

As champions of Christendom they longed to mea

sure swords

Ex Paladin ‘guinst Saladin and all his Paynim hordes,

And when the trump of battle gave the signal for | the frav, |

They gallopped on a coanticss foe as ‘twere a gala |

7 re

Rut days of steel clad chivalry—of belied men and spirred, i

Have vanished as a wreath of snow by Austral | breathirgs stirred :-— |

fhe world has lost her men at arms and yet sus

ined no boas; {hey ve purer fame who bear their name as “ Sol deers of the Crvas.”’ | [heir loins are girt with trnthfalness, their breasts | are armed with right. 1 and faith’s broad shield secure |

Salration « hel them in the felt,

And while with «.ndel-wood of peace their feet are eafely shod, !

With iron ¢ usp they ever grasp the Spirit eword of trod ;

i

Aad they, too, have a banner proud to cheer them) yjp Dalton reached the inne leading from the , though, as she got older, she grew fat and/| perty. When Captain Sinelair mado over | mo,

in the strife,

They cluster ‘neath its glorious folds to serve the |

" Prince of life ;

It bears upon a field of white a cross of ruby stain,

The white ground cries, “ He righteous is ?°” cross, * He once was slam !"’

Their war shout is “ lanmanuel!” they never know defeat,

Nor ever hear the word of fear,the order to retreat;

Upon the grimy hosts of sin their duuntless legions pour,

As sweeps the thund’rous oevan surf apon a shel- | ving shore. j

Why, then, let knight and armor bright rest in their dast and rust,

For noble men are marching in the armies of the just

Of all that finseled chivalry we've nothing left save dross, j

Bet Dewth and Hell go down before these Soldiers ut the Cross

—>>- - THE WITNESS.

PARTS .—PART III.

( Concluded.)

it was not till several hours later, and when | was alone for the night, that [ eould attempt to recali with any accwracy tle cir- cumstances of our admission to that apart- ment, the scene of so much strange guilt and suffering. lL beard, und saw, and acted like one in a dream ; and it still seems to me like putting the fragments of a dream together when L endeavor to relate this portion of my story.

1 eatered, as I have eaid, behind Mr., Davis; he paused after s few steps,and drew me turward. The reom was well lighted, and the first thing | observed was a low nar- row bed, with its side against the wall op-—

wsite the duor. Upon it sat a shapeless Lind of figure in a silk dresving-gown, hang- ing loowely about her. The thin delicate | child in the picture at the cottage was vividly | peeeent in my mind. IL saw a heavy-looking | creature with light hair, a large sallow face, | and eyes swollen and searcely visible. She | was shaking from bead to foot: she neither

looked at as gor spoke to us. | took one of | fer hands, and it clasped mine — oh, sv

closely ; and then she bowed her poor head

upos jt, and uttered a sound, something be-

tween a groan and a ery, such as L never be- | fore heard, and while [ live can uever forget. | L pressed her hands to my bosom ; I kissed | her forehead; I tried to speak, but could

not; and | thankfully heard Mr. Davis say :

“My poor girl, fear nothing; you are safe, | you are free, and with friends eager to help | you ; calm yourself and come with us.”’ He | then gave ime a bonnet and shawl that we | had brought with ue. It was some time be-

|

IN THREE

| Captain Sinelair.

| my thoughts.

i bed got much to tell. She

was very neat, and her hair nicely brushed and arranged. By this time, Mr. again made his appearance, an] was greatly

pleased to find her composed and ready to de- |

part. I asked her if there was anything she wished to take away with her. She looked around, and shaking her head, said: ** No —O no!’ Mr. Davis then lowered the lamps, and extinguished them and put out the candle. We left the room by the light of a lantern we had brought with us. Mr.

Davia fastened the door, and replaced the |

contrivances for concealment, and the silent

| chambers became tenantless, and returned to

their original mysterious secrecy.

Mr. Dalton, in accordance with our ar- rangement, was in readiness with his chaise near the abbey. We helped the com girl in, and [ got in also, and sat beside her, put- ting my arm round her waist. 1 explained our plan to her as we drove on, and told ker of the kind Mrs. Dalton who would receive and takecare of her. By a circuitous route,

high London road to the rectory ; I got out at the gate, and being joined by Mr. Davis, who had walked thither by a short-cut across

t . . ¢ 9. , 7 the | some fields, we returned together to the ab-! Captain Sinclair was endeavouring to arrange ibey, and almost without speaking to each the perplexing business that had falien upon |

other, crept quietly to our bedrooms.

I believe that I have said before that I can never quite understand the effect which these

strange events produced upon my mind while

they were occurring. [ seareely thought of

ithe frightful guilt of Lady Dighton, or of the

peculiarly painful position of poor good kind The sufferings and the feelings of Grace Wilson engrossed almost all

{ sleps soundly, for 1 was quite worn out by fatigue aud anxiety. | awoke with a strange

}confusion of feeling and recollection, and

hardly able to believe in the occurrences of | | the last twenty-four hours. at breakfast, and released them from any | | lessons for that day. | after their father, and then went off

They asked anxiously {fF to some work of caleured papers. paste and paste- board. Mr. Davis and Mr. M:Ilvar were en- gaged in looking through papers and letters for Captain Sinclair from whom they had

received a packet, giving them full powers to

act for him, aad requesting them to settle whatever was necessury with the steward and housekeeper.

Svon after breakfast. Mrs. Dalton came to me as we had previously agreed upon. She believed Gface had slept well, and she had induced her to stop in bed, and tiave the daylight very cautiously admitted to her chamber. All agitation bad passed away; she lay quiet suil, and spoke little. It appewred to Mrn. Dalton that her mind was profoundly occu- pied in endeavouring to realise the great change of cizcumstauces around her.

turned to the rectory with Mrs. Dalton, and |

found her still silent and quiet. When | took her hand, she grasped mine strongly, and kissed it, but without speaking. She got up

after dusk, and the next morning arose be- | Dalton had made a)

fore breakfast. Mrs. shade for her eyes, and in a few days she could endure the daylight very tolerably ; but she continued to speak little, and appear- ed to be continually wrapped in a sort of heavy reverie. I bad afterwards reason to

think that much of this was habit, and that |

a great portion of ber time in her prison- chamber had been passed in this manner,

which frequently ended in a dozing kind of |

sleep: It was long before she would enter into anything like conversation, and very long before she would give any particulars o:

her sufferings during these eight long years |

Davis |

W hen I went to bed, however, |

I met my pupils |

I re- ;

sensitive and impulsive temperament would, | him; I lent him books, and found him quick, | atinde no doubt, have suffered fearfully in mind and | intelligent, and perfectly unpresuming. Oe hody, perhaps even to insanity or death. | intimacy inereased. Grace bad learned the Grace Wilson had, however, a peculiar and u decided stillness of character, most singularly | were a good deal together. One mornigg Tinto a convenient pocket, and graspel the suited to the extraordinary trial she was) was surprised by a visit from the futher, and | butt of one of my revolvers, firmly deter- destined to eee She had good moderate | thoroughly puzzled by his making me a long! mined to keep him at the short distance that abilities, and had so far profited by the edu-| and confused speech about his poor boy, a3) jivided us, or kill him if he advanced. ‘eation Sir Thomas had secured to her, that) he called him, the object of whieh I could not : ; she could read and write very fairly ; it was for some time conceive, until at length, after For perhaps halfa minute we stood silently plain that she had not been either an idle or} many attempts, and much eircumlocution, regarding and surveying each other, and |a stupid child up to the moment in which she | he blundered out the plain words, that he then, resting one end of his club on the | was separated from all her fellow-beings ; | feared his poor boy was greatly taken with ground, and partly leaning forward on the bat it was equally evident that she had made | Miss Wilson. In a moment I perceived how! other, he said, in a coarse, gruff tone, with little or no progress beyond that moment. | very blind L had been ; a thousand little cir- perres | of chucklin lenal a g : | As L knew her better, U perecived more and | cumstances came back to my recotieciion that |", Well g : or aa tiene tie more that she had good common sense, a kind | 1 had searcely noticed at the time of their). o, erode pisos gota j and grateful heart, and av honest and truth-| occurrence, and foremost among them was so | Prize at last; but if you re much better off ful nature ; but she evinced no wish to im-| vivid a rememberance of Grace’s unusual | nor me, you don’t show it, by——-! Stran- |prove herself, and was in many respects | quickness and perseverance in acquiring the | ger who ar’ you? and whar ar’ you from ?” | Supine even to dulness. She had obediently, | finger-alphabet, that I suspeeted there would| — «* Well,” returaed I, feeling highly com- and probably very slowly, learned whatever | be no reluctance on her part. This point plimented, of course, that [I resembled such ‘had been taught her, and she carried the re- | was soon decided, as I bad anticipated. Ler). eiiisioasn identi sco oa tiesit “enahe ‘sults of that teaching into her prison ; if she | fortune was a great surprise to her lover and) aot & - a I Sood jadded to them at all, it was done insensibly, | his parents, as they had naturally supposed DPPETS Cay, HO PPEEPT, SOP 5 SOF, o: ORR t and without any particular effort of her own. | that she was dependent upon me. ex- | Pass for & genteel gentleman, | The quietude of her nature was, I suppose, plained it and her want of relatives by the; “ L'il sw’ar to that—haw! haw! haw!" | physically a preservative to her, for, strange simple truth that she was the illegitimate} was his chuckling response. “The world ‘to say, her bealth never saffered, and al- child of a deceased gentleman of large pro-| haint made much of you, more’nt it has of ‘ I see steal in your face as plain as heavy, se had never needed, nor taken, any | the money to her, he stipulated only — and . 3 2s 2 : |kind of medicine. tt mane oa — a ar eee tente wea: ES oF poutentinny . ' 1, | that she would fai observe silence —

We spent several months together while | all points connected with his unhappy “Never mind that !” said I; “ probably wife. Lassured him that he might firmly neither of us have got our deserts. him, and to make up his mind ae to the| depend on Grace's performance of the solemn| “ Well, if you'd been decent drest, looked future. In accordance with the advice of Mr. | PPomise which she thea made to him through ‘like you had five dollars about you, I'd have Davis, to whom he turned almost helplessly | ™¢-_ Everything relating —— sufferings at! knocked your brains out!” pursued the vil- for guidance, he requested me to go with) a mea cael oan ee Saat lain, with a broad grin. “ As it is you can Grace and my pupils to a distant town, where | i ayer nd a mt aor oe ehlan w y pass—for I can sw'ar you haint got a red !" we were wholly unknown. Lady Dighton|'? "10 pie ge he required of her which was)" "| Much obliged for your candor, anyhow !”’ lhad left hima larze fortunc, but she was! evidently a relief to her mind. Could I part) |. il geaiory any ; | correct in her conviction that he would never | from 7 charge under more favourable eae.) zones" Ce r | profit by the bequest. However, in a letter | Pice#? A deaf and dumb husband, with no} Ile still stood before me, looking straight near relatives except an old father and mo-jipto my eye, and now seemed to be pon-

sti

i that was found with her will, she stated that | ; f ss . : having ascertained that she could secure any | ther, egewirna particle o thea € — dering some new idea. Presently he mut- legacies she might leave to Ellen and Janet, | curiosity, in thoir nature. — ad for 69mé@ | tered, as if to himself:

> time begun to feel that [ might be much fet- “ T think he might do." Then o toment

and their heirs, so that their father could) sepeatiee said \ ; a ~ - . j 2 Vv , |

have no power to reject them, she had accord- | “red Dy the singular cjrcame noes connected after, he said to me, “I say, old fellow

. eee” , ,

how'd you like to make a raise ?”

ingly directed the lawyer, with whom she bad with my protection of this poor girl, and al- “ How would L like to eat woen hungry 2?"

. . | ot f e2Cd 3 communicated by letter on the subject of her | thoagh I had become really mach attached to her, I confess that a great burden was

[ answered, thinking it not unlikely that the

scoundrel had some dark project in view,

‘will, to divide twenty thousand pounds of her | : ‘funded property between them, under strin- lifted from my mind when I saw her so hap- f ; ’ ° a ites

' vent conditions in the hands of trustees. Ex-| PUY married, cent these legacies to hisdaughters, Captain | Sinclair retained only a third ten thousand himself the most fortunate of mankind. They might discover.

pounds, which he felt more than justified in | had a pretty house and small farm very near) = « Wel] I’ve got a plan,” he said. throwine ‘settling upon Grace Wilson. The whole of the old homestead, and in due course of time! 10.5 his club. as if to assure me of bis pacific 2|intentions toward myself, and quietly ad-

‘the large remainder of Lady Digiiton’s settle- were blessed with three children, none of |

ment, after all necessary expenses had been | Whom inierited their misfortune. Grac — ' oe : ‘defrayed, he paid over to, the heir of the ba- | writes to me two or three times a year, and | Tancing to my side—* L ve gota plan that ‘ronetey and its hereditary estates. He had | have twice visited them, A happier house-| will give us both a heap of moaey, and it'll onlytwo friends whom he could consult in his, hold I never saw, no: & more loving old take just two to carry it out. L’ve been heavy trouble,and they were those who had grandfather and grandmother. T will oply | wanting a pal, aud if youl join in L'il go heen the unconscious agents in bringing them | add to my stury that [ have lately heard that | your palves.”

vapon hit. Both Mr. Davisand Mr. M:Livar. | Greyfriars is levelled to the. geoond, and a)" «If there's any chance to turn a penny, whole they agreed in the propriety of bis) new house is building nearly on the same a2 pg on se . honourable resigaation of Lady Dighton’s be- | site. I do not know whether tie inevitable af ORE. an D- Sarit. g ‘ quest to himself, united in urging him to | discovery of the concealed apartments created Good ! returned he; “ you look like avail himself of an offer from the trastees of | any sensation in the neighbourhood, for the | @ trump, and I'll bet high on you. I don't his children, of whom Mr. Dalton was one, | Daltons are removed to another and far-dis-| know,” he added, eyeing me sharply, “ but to allow a large portion of the interest of their | tant Lving, and [ have no commanication | { may be deceived; but [ think ['li risk it. | legacies for their board and education ; and whatever with the place itself. All the sin | if you go for to play any game on me, you'd he ultimately yielded, in some measure, to| and suffering those wally contained may seem better look out for ourself that’s all”

their arguments, bat it was with painful re. | to have perished with them; batthough sor-| ,, D: I look Nike” ch le h: 2 luctance. Air. M'Iivar, feeling that We had|/ row may pass away, crime and ite conse- | Se a ee oo brought so much suff=ring on 2 most amiable | quences carmot be crushed and extinguished. | returned I, en indignant tone: 5

and high-prineipled man, exerted ail his in-| There is a nameless horror in every memory | « Well, let's take aseat, and talk it orer.”’ ‘terest, which was considerable, to procure | connected with Lady Dighton, whether dead | We found an old log and sat down; and for him some situation under Government, orliving. Mrs. Dalton told me that Captain after some preliminary conversation, my new eee re ponte. have eee me oe — = roe — to = ‘and interesting acquaintance unfolded to me iwith poor Cap ain Sinciair s wishes than the | name o 28 Witte on the stone that covered | . . nile waa » . ‘ . | conunllanty offered tohim ata port in the|ber remains, Tuese words are—** God ble dommable ucheme,.the subpiqnee of

east of Europe. It removed him from Eng- | merciful !’’ moh eee as follows : ie ‘ }land, which had become hateful to him, and | e knew the country well for miles around,

scien Adiaineiaiins val 19 from ail possibility of intercourse with the! ,... and the exact pos:tion and conditioa of every \few sequainted with Lady Dighton’s story | ENTRAPPING A MURDERER. jsettler. One man, living in a rather lonely Ue never could be induced to see Grace Wil- | i quarter, about five miles distant, was a spe- son, and he did not meet me again till he | culator in horses and cattle, which he some- !came only for a few hours after we had_re- ie we ’ times bought up and drove to a distant mar- moved to a lodging recommended by the Dal-| In the year 1833 I went to the Red River |. ae P oa atatee ‘ill; an aot ’ ; ive ‘ket. He had a good deal of money, which tons, in a distant village. ie was a sadly | country with a view of speculating iu horses, |

A SPECULATOR’S STORY.

Her husband worshipped ber, and thought | which, by seeming to chime ia with him, [|

‘a hot cup of tea, This was a little too mach

turbed ; but [ was then a young, unmarried man, and, though not particularly suscep- \tible to female attractions in general, I ‘thought [I had never looked upon so lovely |and interesting a creature before.. I stam- mered out some unintelligible replies, kept my hood well drawn over my face, and asked to be permitted to have a few minutes’ pri- vate conversation with the master of the house. | surprize—but it was granted—and as soon /as we were alone together, I told him ina few words who and what I was, the strange adventure I had met with, and disclosed in full the plot of my road-acquaintance to murder and rob him. fe turned pale at the recital, and seemed much astounded, but begged me uot to mention the design to his ‘wife and daughter. He then called his two | sons—strong, determined fellows—recounted the plot to them, and arranged to have everything go forward as if the scheme were being carried out as its vile author designed.

It took some shrewd management to keep me to my part withoat letting the females into the secret; but it was effected ; and before miduight "E cautiously opened the door aud looked out. There was my maa, ready aod waiting.

“Is all right ?° he whispered.

** Yes, come in !”

As he crossed the threshold, the father and sons sprung upon him. But the fellow was strong and desperate, and perhaps had some slight‘suspicion of the truth, With a wild yell he cleared their united grasps at a bound, leaving a large portion of his rags in their hands. The next moment the whele four of us were in chase of the villain, as | he ran across the road to gain the cover of |a wood about twenty rods distant. | “Fire!” shouted the father; ‘ shoot | down the scoundrel !”

We were all armed and prepared and at the word four revolvers began to erack behind ‘him. But he seemed to lead a charmed _jife, and still ran on, keeping a short distance jabead of us. OneeT fancied I saw him | stagger ; but he gained the wood and disip- ,peared, and we reluctantly and with deep chagrio gave up the chase.

_ When we returned to the house, the wife and daughter were both up and terribly jalarmed. Of course an explanation followed —the host being disappointed in making the ‘capture, as he intended, without exciting ‘their fears, There was no more sleep in that house that night. | The next morning we went out to the wood | and discovered a trail of blood. We follow- el on for a mile and found the ruffian lying ‘dead, face dowoward, iis hands firmly ‘clinched upon some bushes, Qne of the | sons recognized him as a suspected murder- ,er who had a couple of years before left that ‘part of the country. Ho was buried with little ceremony. I was warmly thanked for ihe part [ had p'ayel to save the family ; | but from no other did the words sound s0 “sweet to me as from the lips of the beautiful maiden. The family pressed me to stay with them vr a while, and [ stayed—long enough to ‘lose my heart and win another, Sirange ‘as it appears in looking back to it, the event ,of that villain leaping into the road before /me, changed my whole fortune; and some-

‘

Of course this request caused considerable |

at the mercy of the Federals, The Confeder+

[ stopped in alarm, and while fixing my for my equanimity. L eould have got along ‘ate forces may be concentrated at some po'nt finger-alphabet, and she and the young man | ¢yes sharply upon his, quietly slid my hand} with the rest, without being especially dis- further South, but they can never assume that

formidable character which they now present at Richmond. A knowledge of this fact may pesbegs ines ee Reon to hazard « attle, and to make u desperate energy that which they may tek in strength of num- bers. Ifa contest between the contending ar- mies before Richmond should resalt disas- trously to the Federal arms, the inde of the Southern Confederacy may be ed as accomplished. The Federals know well how ro it is that the grand army in front of Richmond should succeed : and Lease it is that Gen. McClellan is extremely unwilling to run the risk of a defeat by any boid novement.- It is quite evident that he will not hazard a battle until bis forces are largely ted. If the Confederates force him to fight ere re- inforcoments arrive, it is impossible to say who may come off victorious.

->-----— SHAM RELIGION,

The real objections entertained to the reli- gious world are,that the whole way of living. and talking, and thinking which adopt is such @ very poor, nae Sed ion is something so very ¢ ing, ©9 little, s+ unaspiring, if this 1s what it is to cume to. It is the mere catching of o iar way of talking, very trivial, easily ht, and” as ita to outsiders, ai y a plicable to the facte of life society. It” seems as if Christianity, which was once swelling in volumes to iill the ei- vilized world, had been at last confined, by some skilful artist, in a very little glasa bot-— tle. It has somehow, all at once, got rid of art, and ethics, and metaphysics history, and this is thought a groat mercy and im- provement. Perhaps it is; bat some little disappointment is pardonable in those who have somehow got to think otherwise. Thero is, too, an uncertainty ts it all aa ia not very attractive. is especial out in children. They exhibit, wit! Ther usual amiable frankness, their real natare and their assamed nature. They mix up prattle and religious talk. They may not do what they ought, or behave well, or keep ae clean, or show consideration for others, but t have got the regulation phrases by wast There are two facts with © regard to the children of good which | = as not exactly pretend to account for, but which are arrested le ce. The one is, that voligioes Hethe Sov ane dee ceitful ; and the other ie, that the daughters of religions people quarrel with their mothers. There are also faults of a grave kind to which good people are exceedi prone,and which | ineontestably raise a against them. ' In the first . they do nut care about truth. | This is quite different from saying that they

knowingly and wilfully tell falsehoods. shrink from the very name of alie. But they are aceustomed to talk a bazy lao- guage, and they are also accustomed to back up a cause. They have always some rival to crush, or some project to intrudace, or som + little ditfivulty te conceal; and they choose their words accordingly. They are often, also, grossly unjust. Justice is the one vir- tue which they cannot even conceive the meaning of. They do net eveu wish to be fair. They want to do the best they can for them- selves, and their party, and cause ; and they have nothing to do with other people's parties and causes. They must back their friends, and they do it so heartily that the learn to do it quite a. In ait these respects the goodish peopie of the world have a conspicuous advan over the guod. There are quantities of people who lead out- wardly the samo life as the good, who feres grapes, and are very psrticulur whom they | know, and — charities, and help the | poor, and are decent, comfortable, elhurc!:- |guing Ubristians. The only thing is that ‘they ar» not in the religious world, and do

|

fore L could attempt to put them on to her. | of silence and solitude, when, shut up in two She kept clinging to my hands, to my shoul- | small chambers, she never heard a haman der, to my dress; still without speaking a/ yoice,or caught 2 glimpse of daylight. Of the single word. her breath grew shorter and | eeene of the murder, she never could be in- shorter, and at length, with a loud and fear-| duced to say more than a few whispering ful scream, she went into violent hysterics. | words, and no one who saw the dreadiul ex- We had taken the precaution to bring harts-| pression of horror in her face if the slightest

horn and restoratives with us, bat for some) allusion were made to it, could persevere in |

time they were wholly without effect. At) pressing the subject upon her. Only once length. the worst paroxysm seomed passed ; | id she speak to me of her feelings and im- she became quieter, and we laid her gently | pressions when she recovered her senses in on the bed. Her faee was turned to the che secret chamber: she said she soon began wall, and she uttered no sound, although! to understand that she had been carried into every two or three minutes she was shaken some place of confienement, and she expected sil over by convulsive twitehings. _ | nothing bata erael death from the same * We cannot attempt to move her in this’ ruthless hand that had, before her cyes, des- state,’’ | whispered to Mr. Davis. _ | troyed her father. After a time, however, “No,” he answered. ‘* Would you object | she perceived the strong inner fastenings to to remaining with her while 1 go andexplain the door. She drew the bolts and fixed the te ye the — of the — os eel ee — ry ae and, seizing - This was agreed upon. J canno it light, she rushed about the rooms to see i fear,but | must own to a very uncomfortable there was any other entrance. When satis- fealing when the door of that chamber was! fied that she was so far secure, she said she closed upon me. The poor creatare continued | kneeled down and said the Lord’s Prayer, and perfeely still, exeept for the nd tien seated herself with a epee Bast. on me movements; these soon became less violent, | door, fully expeeting to be starved to death, aud at length ceased, and I believed she bad | and deliberately preferring this fearful alter- falien asleep. [ looked around me. The, native, to any sort of communication with foym was small, but lofty; and the outer Lady Dighton. Mow long she would have air must have been in sowe degree admitted’ persevered in this determination. had there near the ceiling, as a lamp hanging from been no means of conveying food to ber, is thenee flared and burned unevenly, while probably very doubtful ; but it is very likely the flame of a candle on a tat le in the middle gat it might have continued till she was too f the room was still. There were two or| wdak to remove the heavy fastenings. It was three tables, and several chairs; shelves evident that she uever ceased to believe that — the wall, on _ there were ee ‘ber life spud be sacrificed the moment she books ; and doors to closets, that must have admitted her jailer. been made in the wall, as they did not pro-' +* But,’’ saed [, “did you not take hope ject beyond it. One of these was open, and from her regularly supplying you with food, Sens mA be —_ om glassand couneny. linen ‘lights, and everything you could re- ve further end of the room, an open door quire ?”’ ; . showed the interior of another lighted cham- we Never,’’ she answered. ‘I believed it "; this, she told me afterwards, was the | was all done to entrap me, and because even Winter-room, one side of it being formed by | her stony heart could not ondure to leave me the hack of the great kitehen chimney, and | die without help. Many notes were written consequently always warm. In that roow,| to me with entreaties, promises, even solemn also, was a sink, and a pump of el oaths—but how orate — a -_ whut water. In the angles of the wall of the|{ had seen: my only friend, the only person kitchen chimney ware closeta in which the! who had aa ate me, : helpless in his bed-linen, blankets, and coverlets were kept, | bed’’ . and an extra mattress always aired and ready, And here she staqeed. oo m. alweas “ vr use; and some contrivance in the ceiling | when she approached the subject of the seein air a oe ns = [ mp oor on that eee of es ty as in the other, which was ¢s the | see never to have occurre er, bu ‘ummer-room. [ am here briefly Eoeeal ceeds found that it had been present ep much that I heard at different times after- | with her during the whole of her imprison- ag = i ane not forget to mention | ment; but she had sees — some nas for the eomfort,and to promote the | ignorant notion that it could only con- health of the inhabitants of these chambers, aa in liquids. She drank nothing but owe Was admissiop from the inner room to water and tea, which she had meags of pre- S long passage running within the wall of | puring for herself, and she said that there rap mee whieh the outer air was were dozens of wine, with which she had y admitted.

changed man, and I could see in almost the first greeting that his manner was totally al- | of a preficelite f call? 7 tered towards me. He was most grateful and | 0. > Prowane retarg 4 ae ene: liberal, aud meant to be very kind, but he ( } Course I carried & good Geal OF money ‘eould not meet my eye, and seemed to dread | with me, but knowing L was going among a ‘every word I ssid to him. iis plans were , wild, lawless class, of every grade and color— ithen unsettled, and soon afterwards came the among half-civilized Indians, negroes, gam- | offer from M-Uvar of which [ have just spok-| blers, thieves, robbers, murderers, ne as- jen. Mr. Davis told me that ‘it made another | gag.ing_ with perhaps a few settlers of some

jman of hun.’’? He brightened up from that) ,; : . /moment, gave an immediate and most thank- little claim to honor and honesty, if they

‘ful answer in assent, and employed himself could be sifted out from the mass—I thought {incessantly in preparations fur a speedy de- it the safest plan not to seem well off in this partare te his official post. world’s goods. Accordingly I seeured my | When all was completed, be came to fetch | Money in a belt about my body, put on a |hisdauglters. He was mach overcome when | Very coarse, rough dress, which, by inten- ihe parted from me; and Ellen and Janet | tional carelessness, soon had a very mean, were as sorry as such young girls could be slovenly appearance, and allowed my hair with a prospect before them which their fa-| a5] beard to manage matters their owa way ither had in his letters depicted in the most) pinout any troublesome interfi f| | favourable colours. We parted; | felt that Ss any SumacsNme,, \Eterregenes, (Or) it was a final parting, and such it proved to | "°F OF comb. Thus prepared, and armed ‘be. His liberality towards me had been far with two revolvers and a bowic-knife, I ‘beyond what I could expect or accept, and 1 | passed over some dangcrous territory in com- | believe he had a real regard and esteem for | parative safety, aud flattered myself that no ;me; bot Lf was not surprised when our inter- one guessed my riches through my apparent erry:

|eourse by letter gradually died away. The In fact, on two occasions I began to think

girls wrote frequently and affectionately to

| me for a few months, but their letters became se night have’ Keen € a h