watching the workmen employed in recovering as much of the property as might have escaped with partial damage. He would have got out, but dared not.

Unrecognised in his carriage, he was secure; and having drawn up to the spot where the little party stood, he gazed with intensity of look upon the operations. It was plain some strange idea had come into his mind; it seemed written in his features that something might be found which he would have no man know.

"But it was a wooden box," thought he, " and it could not escape.” Yet, as he comforted himself thus, the possibility was still standing on his brow as plainly as did the mark on Cain's. Still the workmen worked, and he still gazed. At last they carried out on a hand-barrow a heap of broken furniture.

"'Tis it!" exclaimed the Doctor, madly, as he dashed his fist through the window; and having rapidly opened the door, rushed distractedly to the men.

This sudden apparition so astonished the people, that all fled backwards in fear. Mr. Lupton, and Woodruff, besides many others, instantly recognised the Doctor; while the first-named gentleman as instantly hastened after him, in order at once to know the cause of this wild proceeding, and to prevent by magisterial authority the mischief which he feared might ensue.

"That's it!it's mine! - my own!" cried the Doctor, as he threw himself upon a box of considerable dimensions, deeply scorched, but not burnt through. At the same time he clasped his arms about it. The workmen interfered.

"Molest him not," said Mr. Lupton.

"I swear it is mine!" again exclaimed Rowel, "and no man shall open it while I live. I'm innocent; they judged me so last night. People will destroy me if it's seen. They'll swear it is his body.” What body?" demanded Mr. Lupton in astonishment. "His-his. I'm. No; his who died. They shall not open it." Again the Doctor endeavoured to hide it with his body.

Mr. Lupton saw in this more than appeared upon the surface; and accordingly commanded the constabulary to protect Mr. Rowel back to the carriage, and convey the box to Řiddal.

The Doctor made such a desperate resistance, and raved so furiously, that great force was required to get him into the carriage; and it was found necessary to bind him ere his conveyance could be considered safe. This done, he was driven off to the residence of his brother on Sherwood Forest.

During these transactions, the excitement of the multitude was so great, that, but for the judicious measures adopted, the disorders of the previous night would have been concluded by the murder of the Doctor. This fearful consequence was, however, happily avoided. Mr. Woodruff again joined Mr. Lupton, and followed the crowd that accompanied the mysterious box to the Squire's own residence. A short time after, the above-named individuals, with one or two others, retired into a private room, whither the chest had been carried, and remained present while a heavy lock upon it was broken, and the uplifted lid displayed a sight so horrible, that the strongestnerved present recoiled. Before them, huddled up to make it fit into its habitation, lay a corpse, sufficiently perfect to leave not the slightest doubt but that they looked upon the remains of the unfor

tomate Skinwell By what motive the Doctor had been actuated in taking the body from its grave, could only be conjectured: the most probable one was, that he had done so to destroy all traces of the poison. But why be should still preserve so horrible an object few attempted to divine. Whatever the cause, however, the fact was proved; since the remains were subsequently identified by many. Another circumstance remains to be recorded, as it may also serve to illustrate Doctor Rowel's conduct.

Beneath the head of the corpse was found a smaller and curiously ornamented box, wherein the title-deeds of Charnwood had been kept during many generations. On being opened, it was found still to contain them in the same state in which Rowell had so many years ago possessed himself of them, after securing the person of their owner. The efect of Mr. Skinwell's conduct in resisting the doctor's solicitations to co-operate with him in altering those writings now became apparent.

Mr. Woodruff having taken them into his own custody, he and his daughter set out to take possession of their hereditary home. On their arrival, however, they found it inhabited by tenants whom the reader will feel surprised to find there.

No long period was required after Colin's arrival at Mr. Calvert's to enable him to discover that deep anxiety reigned throughout that house touching her who so late was its life-spring.

Miss Jenny, who had lately confined herself much to her chamber, was introduced by her sister; the latter having communicated to her the arrival of Roger and Colin.

How changed!" thought our hero, as his spirit sank at the sight of her. In her face was written that the past was all of a pleasant existence she should ever look upon. Yet when she saw him, though the father looked solemn, and the mother chidingly, she flew to his arms. For what were a father's looks, or a mother's wishes? What was all the world now to her?

At this sight, so unexpected and affecting, her mother sobbed aloud; Mr. Calvert turned away in silence. Her sister seized her hands, and pressed them with a loving pressure, while honest Roger, with the tears bursting from his eyes, struck his hand upon the table in sudden agony, and exclaimed,

"Though I don't swear, I say she shall have him, damme, if she shan't!"

The plainness of this declaration contrasted so with the occasion that scarcely a person could forbear smiling; while every one felt a conviction that Roger's words would eventually come true. But, as suddenly as that conviction flashed across the mind, so, with respect to Mr. and Mrs. Calvert, did it as suddenly cease. For though, during some few moments they felt half inclined to relent, yet, as the cause of that sudden conversion lost its temporary influence, they fell back upon old objections with increased prejudice.

Long did these two afterwards discuss the matter, while Colin and Jenny were rapidly settling it without any discussion at all.

While the last-named pair regarded the question as altogether one of the heart, the former held it as totally a question of the head: but, inasmuch as the worst philosopher may venture to back the heart against the head in any contention, our hero and Miss Jenny would certainly have triumphed, had it not happened that before

their forces could be brought to bear, Mr. Calvert sent a message to Colin, requesting his company in the study, and delivered to him the following speech:

"After what has occurred, Mr. Clink, I feel that it becomes my duty as a father to come to some decisive determination. Much as I respect Mr. Lupton and yourself, there are causes which made me fearful when I found your preference for Jenny, that a continued acquaintance between you would not lead to happiness. I shall not allude to those causes more directly; but they are insurmountable. And though I am aware that such matters are frequently regarded with indifference, yet I feel compelled thus to declare my sentiments, in the hope that nothing more will be required to assure you of the course which I wish you to adopt."

"Sir!" said Colin, as his heart seemed to swell into his throat, "I cannot but respect your motives. I know your objections,they are not to be removed." He would have spoken more, but could not.

"Do not mistake me," observed Mr. Calvert. "It is your misfortune, not your crime. It was my hope that Jenny and you might possibly dissolve this acquaintance yourselves, and render such an explanation as the present needless. But I have been mistaken. We cannot go on thus longer. Nevertheless, carry with you the assurance that I still continue to remember your worthiness, and to regret so unhappy an ending to the young affection of one whom it would have been our delight, if possible, to have blessed the good and worthy creature he sought.. Bless you, my friend!" added he, "Bless you! I cannot part with you without betraying more than becomes me. "Your worthiness," replied Colin, "makes me, sir, lost what to say. Had you treated me harshly I could have replied. If you will have it so, I know not how to oppose: but though I go never to return, believe me, sir, my heart will be left with those I leave,— I shall do my best to live out my life with the memory of her whom I am forbidden to know in any other manner."

"I am afraid," rejoined his friend, "that on neither side shall we cease to feel pain; but it will be our duty to bow before those decrees which we cannot escape. And now," added Mr. Calvert, "do not prolong this scene. We can do no more. Good-b'ye!" he quitted the room.

But Roger Calvert and Colin had a further conversation below stairs, which ended in producing a determination of importance. Roger's conduct, indeed, throughout had inspired our hero with confidence, and now induced him, after the scene described, to draw his friend into an unobserved part of the house, and propose that they should settle the matter in the manner already suggested,—that is, through the medium of an elopement; and that considerate young fellow readily undertook the task of informing Jenny of the design. agreed between them that, the more successfully to carry on their plan, Colin should take leave of the family under the impression, on their parts, of never seeing him again; but that, instead of quitting London, he should retire to some hotel, where he could remain until matters were arranged for his and Jenny's departure. This accordingly he did, quitting Mr. Calvert's house not without grief on the part of all, except Roger; though on his own

It was

with such a miserable exhibition of sorrow, considering the situation in which he was placed, that the good Calverts were quite astonished, and began to suspect that after all there was not half the feeling in him they had been led to believe. Roger was appezied to, but professed to have no ability in discovering springs of action. The truth was, that he felt disinclined for conversation. The departure of his friend had put a seal upon his tongue.

Within a few days it was remarked by the family that Jenny seemed astonishingly recovered from her melancholy, and hope began to be entertained that in a short time she would recover her painful disappointment, and become again that pleasant creature she was before her eyes met those of Mr. Clink. However, at the very time when everybody expected that this desirable consummation would be effected, then it was discovered to everybody's amazement that she was missing; Roger, too, had disappeared; nor was Miss Jenny Calvert ever found again. A guess at the real truth flashed across the minds of every one, and all agreed that, instead of ever seeing Miss Jenny again, they should be somehow or other introduced to Mrs. Colin Clink.

Mr. Calvert at first took the thing in dudgeon, and ordered his horses to pursue the flying trio, but, by the time saddle and harness were ready, it chanced to be discovered that nobody knew whether to prefer the east, west, north, or south quarters in the proposed search. Probabilities, however, being in favour of Kiddal Hall, Mr. Calvert and his son set out on an expedition to that residence, in hopes of arriving there in time to prevent that marriage which Mr. Calvert determined never to sanction.

In the mean time our hero and his friends were making forced marches, until our little party had the pleasure of beholding the walls within which they were to be made secure of future happiness. Thus felt our hero and his pretty companion, while Roger regarded the house with interest, since it also contained her who was everything to him.

Mr. Woodruff's residence was situated in one of the pleasantest portions of Leicestershire. It was one of those old, large, and substantial brick buildings, characteristic of a particular period of our domestic architecture. Its gardens were full of stately trees, which seemed to speak their own dignity, and declare to the passer-by that beneath their branches had flourished some generations.

To this place were they welcomed by Mr. Woodruff and his daughter; and though, at the first introduction to Miss Jenny as the intended bride of Colin, poor Fanny in vain endeavoured to hide the feelings of the moment, yet a short time brought her back to a sense of the situations of both, while the presence of her own accepted lover, in the person of Roger Calvert, not only sustained her spirits, but took off much of the keenness of those reflections.

It was also on this occasion Colin learned from Fanny that her father and herself, on paying their first visit to their newly-recovered property, found it occupied by the family of that identical Miss Wintlebury whom he and she had so strangely met in London. At the mention of that name Colin blushed so deeply that Miss Jenny felt misgivings as to his perfect fidelity, and in a manner half in joke half in earnest, charged him with deception, to which her lover gould not so well reply as by giving that short story respecting Miss Wintlebury, with which the reader is acquainted.

Miss Wintlebury herself had improved materially in health, since not only the country, but likewise the altered circumstances in which her father had placed her, assisted to throw in her way every advantage that one in her situation could require. She still remembered Colin's conduct with the most grateful feelings, and testified them by entertaining his friends. Besides which, on Mr. Wintlebury being informed of the particulars of their story, of which already he had heard much from common fame, he volunteered at once to quit the premises, and gave Mr. Woodruff possession of his own.

It was a proud morning for our hero when, with Jenny on his arm, he hastened to the little church hard by Mr. Woodruff's residence, there to pronounce the sacred promise to love and cherish till death the pretty creature beside him. Fanny and Harriet Wintlebury officiated as bridemaids. The priest had just uttered the solemn injunction-" Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder," when a stir was heard at the church door, and Mr. Calvert and his son, in a state of excitement, hurried in. The former rushed towards the altar, and seizing Jenny, exclaimed: "I forbid the marriage!"--but the priest waved his hand, and pronounced that Colin and Jenny were "man and wife together," concluding with that blessing which so beautifully finishes the church ceremony on these occasions.

As the party retired Mr. Calvert approached, and taking the newly-made wife's hand,-"Jenny!" said he, "I never expected this. However, I will not reproach you. The thing is done, and cannot be undone. It is not for me to put asunder whom God hath joined together: I must make the best of it, and therefore, seeing there is no remedy, let me join in the blessing pronounced, and ask that ye may so live together in this life, that in the world to come ye may have life everlasting.”

Poor Jenny burst into tears, and clung round her father's neck; while Colin stood by, deeply affected, and Roger complimented his father and brother upon their being, as he expressed it, "an inch behind the tail."

On the return of the party, Jenny's father informed them how he had in the first instance directed his steps to Kiddal Hall, and found his old friend, Mrs. Lupton, in a state that promised a speedy dissolution. Under those circumstances he had felt anxious to defer, if he could not prevent, the ceremony which had taken place. These intentions, however, being frustrated, nothing remained but to reconcile matters with all parties, and to effect this, Mr. Calvert deemed it needful that the newly-married pair should return with him to Kiddal; because, in case of the unfortunate lady of that house desiring to see them before her death, their presence would prevent her dying wishes being disappointed. Accordingly, at an early period they set out; and, on their arrival were welcomed by the squire with a degree of satisfaction scarcely to be expressed, and a degree of unmixed happiness would have reigned, but for the situ ation of Mrs. Lupton, who now rapidly sunk.

"So you are married, Jenny? said she, as she took the young wife by the hand, and kissed her.

"I hope we shall be happy," replied she.

“So I hoped once," returned the lady; "and see what has come of it! Yet I loved him, as you may now. And as for you, sir—”