calmly waited the arrival of the traveller, who was now walking his horse. The night was almost pitch dark; for though at intervals a ray of the misty moon gleamed through the dusky curtains that were drawn around her, still those beams were fitful and evanescent. On each side of the road was a low edge-beyond them were fields and portions of the heath; so that easy avenues of escape in case of necessity were at hand. But such an idea never entered the mind of Arnold. "A friend of mine," returned Arnold. 66 'He kindly offered me the use of his stables, whenever I required them; and as he generally stays abroad late, his servants are obliged to take turns to sit up for him." "And will not the people, of whom you have hired the apartments in Leadenhall-street, think it strange that we arrive so unseasonably?" asked Crawford, as he slung from his arm to his back the small bundle he had brought. "Not at all: the rooms have a private entrance -and there is not a soul, save the servant, to notice our coming. Trust to me for the necessary arrangements." We may suppose that Crawford was not a little anxious-Rivingstone was as indifferent as the animal he rode; but his young companion's heart beat violently when they turned round to "Let us step boldly forward," said Rivingstone, listen, shortly after they passed the traveller."and examine the contents of that purse we had Nothing struck upon their ears, save the pace presented to us ere now." of the horse, for nearly a minute-a long period for suspense and then, "Stand, sir!" in a low but firm voice, interrupted the silence of the night. Villain!" cried the stranger: and the report of a pistol succeeded. "Has Arnold any weapons?" demanded Rivingstone, hastily. "No-I think not," was the reply. "Then we must return, Crawford" - and in another instant they were at the spot, where Arnold had fallen from his horse, and the stranger had dismounted to capture him but Rivingstone leapt from his horse, caught hold of the traveller's collar, and hurled him to the ground. Arnold then, to the surprise of his companions, rose slowly; and after rifling the stranger's pockets, exclaimed, "Off-off for our lives!-it's all right!" "He is not dead-good God!" cried Crawford, in a tone expressive of deep anxiety. "Oh, no-he will recover in a minute," returned Rivingstone: "he is only stunned." "Then let us depart," again cried Arnold. "I was stunned too by a blow from his whip: but the pistol was useless-he could scarcely aim in the dark." The traveller remained, stupified by his fall, in the middle of the road, while his plunderers once more mounted their horses, and galloped away. At a late hour they arrived at Kensington, where they were to leave their horses, according to the suggestion of Arnold, that no suspicion might be excited by seeing three individuals ride so unseasonably into the metropolis. Opposite a large house, as well as its dimensions could be discerned in the darkness of the night, Arnold halted for a moment, and pulled a bell, the wire of which hung by the side of the gate; for there were iron railings and a small shrubbery before the spacious building. He then bade his companions follow him, while he led the way round by a side-way to the back of the mansion, where a large door was already opened, at which stood a man prompt to receive him. "Take these horses, John-and say not a word: I shall probably be here to-morrow." The servant made no reply, but did as he was ordered; and Arnold, having wished him a good night in a careless manner, took his comrades' arms and again conducted them to the main road, which they pursued for London. "Who the devil lives there?" enquired Rivingstone, ""Tis a pocket-book," remarked Arnold. "Ah! that looks better still: we must take care to have the notes, if there are any, changed early to-morrow morning, before they are stopped." "And to-morrow," cried Crawford, after a moment's pause, "I shall commence my enquiries after Mr. Wescott !" exclaimed Rivingstone; "I knew him well! He was a parson, was he not?" "Wescott-Wescott!" "He was-and a rascal too." "I could have given you that information. When I first commenced my career in the profession," proceeded Rivingstone, "I became acquainted with him he had taken to the road as well-and many's the crown piece I've put into his pocket. But he played me so many tricks, that I separated from him; and before many months passed, he was hanged at Tyburn for highway robbery." "Gracious "Hanged!" ejaculated Crawford. heavens! then all my hopes are vain-gone for ever!" And Arnold felt the youth's arm tremble violently, as it supported his own. My dear boy, remember my injunctions," said his patron. "Think of the renown you will shortly possess-of the lasting fame our plots will procure for you think of the riches we shall accumulate of the wealth we shall acquire!" "I do—I do" rejoined Crawford: "but my mother!" "We must manage that affair by some means or another. Come, let us change the conversation. But, hark! what do I hear? we are pursued, by God!" "Haste-haste to the side of the road-fall upon your faces, or we are lost!" exclaimed Rivingstone in a hurried voice. But before the terrified Crawford could obey these injunctions, six cavalry soldiers galloped up, and made the little party their prisoners, ere the slightest resistance could be possibly offered. "Take care how you insult us," cried Arnold, with the greatest presence of mind. "Whether i this outrage is intended as a joke or not, I am ignorant but beware how you carry it too far, my fine fellows." "We know you," replied the serjeant, who commanded the soldiers; "you're the three willains, that robbed our captain-Captain Stewart too-you willains. If it wasn't so dark, I'd seek gallows picktered on your faces. But its lucky we happened to pass this way on duty," "Truce to this nonsence!" interrupted Arnold. | tinually pressing me in numberless quarters. I "Is there an officer here?" "Yes-I'm the hofficer," replied the serjeant. "Then come with me to the nearest house, and I will satisfy you that you are mistaken: meantime let your men detain my comrades till I re turn. "There's reason in that, at all events, howmsoever," said the serjeant. "Well, let Jenkins come with me, and we'll go to that house, where I see a light." Accordingly, Arnold marched off with the officer and a file of men. During his absence, which lasted about ten minutes, the anxiety of Crawford and the alarm of Rivingstone were not inconsiderable. The former saw nothing but a dreary prospect―ruin, disgrace, and death: the other mourned the sudden check that was now likely to be put to the progress of their glorious schemes. At length steps were heard; and the voice of the serjeant broke the gloomy stillness that had prevailed. "Come, comrades, loose them gentlemen: we've got on a wrong scent-and the devil's in it if we don't get into trouble-—” "Say no more about it, my friend," returned Arnold, coolly." I promise you never to open my lips concerning the matter." "Thank'ee, sir," cried the serjeant. Then, turning to his men, he exclaimed, "Mount!"for they had previously jumped from their horses. "Good night, sir-good night, gentlemen-no of fence, and thank ye kindly. Squad, attentiongallop!" and the little party rode off at a rapid rate towards London. "How the devil did you manage ?" enquired Rivingstone, while poor Crawford was almost mad with joy at this unexpected release. 66 Excellently well," returned Arnold, with his usual equanimity of manner. "I happened to have about me the card of some distinguished person, who called upon me lately at my hotel; and having produced it, I told the serjeant that we had been to dine with a friend, and were determined to have some fun with the Charleys in our way home-so that I had sent back my carriage, and we had set out to walk. The poor fellow was almost mad with vexation at his mistake, nearly fell upon his knees, and hoped I should not report him to his officers. I entirely forgave him, and that's the whole story of it." "Oh! if I were blessed with such presence of mind!" cried Crawford, as they all three once more proceeded on their walk towards the metropolis. "It is useful on occasions," remarked Arnold, carelessly. "But who would have thought of our meeting such adventures in one night? 'tis an excellent joke!" "Yes-now we are out of it!" said Rivingstone, drily. "Were you afraid, then ?" "I did not exactly feel comfortable." "Nor I either-very far from it," added Crawford. "Well, well-a morsel of supper, and a glass of wine, when we reach your apartments, will do wonders for us," said Arnold. "What! do you not intend to live in the same house with us?" demanded James, in a tone of disappointment as well as surprise. "No-I shall sleep elsewhere: business is con shall, however, be frequently with you; and when the scheme is to be put in execution, after the necessary preliminaries and arrangements, you will find that I shall not be idle, my boy.' "Where shall you dwell, then?" asked Crawford. "At some hotel, or coffee-house," returned Arnold, who had private reasons for not living with his companions. "But let us put our best foot foremost-we are near the hackney-coach stand at Knights bridge. It must be twelve o'clock already." They accordingly walked on swiftly, and stepped into a vehicle at the stand mentioned by Arnold. It was midnight when they were passing Hyde-park Corner; but the busy hum of the metropolis was not yet hushed. Carriages were driving about in all directionsthe watchmen were on their posts-and many a young blade was roving the streets, meditating plans hostile to the safety of the nocturnal guardians of London. The music, that occasionally flowed from some gay mansion, as our travellers were whirled up Piccadilly, proclaimed the presence of revelry and festivity. Many a heart in those splendid dwellings beat with rapture; while others sighed with jealousy, envy, and aversion for some successsful rival. Many a lip uttered words which the emotions of the bosom could not corroborate; many a deceiver was himself deceived. Nor few perhaps were the smiles which belied the real state of the feelings, and but barely covered sorrow, hopeless love, or a thousand conflicting passions. Still all the noise, the revelry, the mirth, the movement of the metropolis were passed idly by, on the part of Arnold and Rivingstone; though Crawford watched with interest the various objects that attracted his attention-for London was not so familiar to him as to his companions. Orders had been given to drive to Leadenhallstreet; and it was not long ere the vehicle stopped opposite a certain house, when Arnold pulled the check-string. Having dismissed the coach, he took a key from his pocket, opened the door, and conducted his friends up stairs into a handsome suite of apartments, where candles were already lighted by the servant, who had doubtless heard the arrival of her masters. She had been hired by Arnold to have everything comfortably prepared for Rivingstone and Crawford: and as he paid liberally in advance, no enquiries were made concerning the gentlemen for whom he had taken the lodgings. Supper was soon served up, and washed down with excellent wine: then, when the domestic was dismissed, Arnold produced the pocket-book which had almost cost them dearer than they anticipated. It was of plain workmanship, with a silver clasp ; on one side was a small plate, whereon was engraved the name of its rightful proprietor, WILLIAM STEWART. Little regard was, however, paid to its exterior: the contents were more interesting to the present owners. When it was opened, Bank notes to the amount of four hundred pounds were discovered; and several papers, letters, &c., of no consequence to anybody. These, notwithstanding, Arnold declared should be sent by coach the next morning to Captain Stewart, of the hussars, stationed at Hounslow. The booty, which was much greater than the worthy trio had ex pected, was readily welcomed by the plunderers; and Arnold promised to sally out the first thing on the following day for the purpose of changing the notes at different places, before they should be stopped; but on second thoughts he transferred this duty to Rivingstone. A great load was removed from Crawford's mind, when by the remarks of the soldiers he had discovered that murder had not been committed; and he could not forbear noticing how singular it was that two daring deeds had been perpetrated by them almost in the selt-same spot! "AMELIA CRAWFORD." boy, who was employed to act as carrier to the By return of post a letter was brought by the various dwellings within a few miles of Bagshot, containing an enclosure of fifty pounds, and the following reply :— "MADAM, "I hasten to conform to your wishes, as you will find by the small sum I have been enabled to spare for the intended expedition you mention. My circumstances are far more embarrassed than the world would supposc more amply. Be assured that any thing in moderation I can ever perform for you shall not be neglected; and you need not feel bashful in addressing me upon such request an interview, which for particular reasons of my subjects. I admire your delicacy in not persisting to own I am resolved never-never to grant. "Portland-place." "GEORGE MORNAY, At a late hour Arnold withdrew, promising to be with his companions early on the morrow; and they themselves shortly after retired to their respective chambers, where everything was in excel-possible; or I should have assisted your necessities lent order for their accommodation and comfort. Crawford, however, slept but little-his dreams were troubled; and to his memory frequently can.e, during his untranquil slumbers, the picture of that part of the road where the milestone was situated, and other harrowing circumstances connected with the place. Then he thought of a mother, who believed him to be virtuous, and The contents of this letter not a little astonished whom he was so grossly deceiving; he thought of the happy Mrs. Crawford, and her two daughters; the errors he had been beguiled into-of the for never had their haughty relative written in so associates he had chosen ;-and he trembled in condescending and milda manner before. Forhis transitory sleep, where oblivion was denied mer epistles were invariably more laconic, and him. An ignominious end was not absent from more to the absolute point, without making tenhis mind; and he awoke terrified, attempted to ex-ders of service, or even hinting that future appeals tenuate his crimes to himself, and vowed to repent without delay. But when the light of day beamed in at the windows of his apartment, his courage returned, and his good resolutions vanished with the darkness. CHAPTER IV. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, WALTER SCOTT. What equal tormente toe the griefe of minde, ON the same morning that Mr. Arnold and 46 "SIR, Notwithstanding your firm resolves never to see nor speak to any member of my family, I have ventured to write under the following circumstances, confident that your heart is not entirely estranged from us, if I may be allowed to judge from the punctual payment of the income which you granted at Mr. Arnold's intercession, since my husband's mysterious disappearance. "My eldest daughter, Emily, passed three months last year with an aunt at Southampton, and made so favourable an impression upon this relative, that she is already remembered in her will. This summer, there fore, according to promise, I am determined she shall again pay Mrs. Otway a visit; and on the following Saturday her aunt will call for her in her carriage. Now, you must be aware that there are various contingent expences attached to this; and as my income is only sufficient for the absolute maintenance of my family, if you would assist me with your bounty, you would con. fer an additional favour on me and my dear children. I shall not renew the supplications and arguments made would be noticed, whatever might be their subject. The following Saturday was therefore hailed with less gloom than it otherwise would have been; and when, true to her promise, the aunt stopped at the gate, and descended from her carriage, Mrs. Crawford's heart was less heavy at the prospect of parting from her child than she had fondly anticipated. The meeting with the aged relative, was rather affecting; for she felt attached to Emily on account of the kindness with which that lovely girl treated her during her stay at Southampton the preceding year: and she moreover pitied the condition of the mother, either deserted by a worthless husband, or having lost him by some calamity of which she was ignorant-alvented her from ever drawing the strings of her though the old lady's parsimonious habits prepurse for the use of Mrs. Crawford. looking lady, but excessively penurious, aud ilMrs. Otway was upwards of sixty-a venerableliberal to the highest degree, where she did not actually take a liking to an individual; for Charity to the poor was in her eyes merely the encouragement of vice and laziness. Such, however, was the person to whose dwelling Emily was about to be consigned: ner few farewells that took place, when she parted from were the tears that were shed, and the tender her mother and sister, and stepped into the carriage, which rolled away at a rapid rate. The day was fine, the roads not remarkably dusty, and the vehicle was a light one; so that they were enabled to reach Southampton before the wing of night was spread abroad. next morning at Mrs. Otway's house to welcome Amongst the few individuals, who called the her return, and to renew their acquaintance with "the beautiful Miss Crawford," was a young man of some four or five-and-twenty, named Hunter. He was by profession a surgeon, and had succeeded in acquiring even more than a competency, in addition to the small fortune his father left him at his decease: but for the last ten or eleven months his manners had perfectly changed his habits became different-the rose on his cheek faded-a deadly palor had supplied its place-and in fact his soul appeared to be absorbed in deep -intense woe. or malice have no part in its origin. But it is a hopeless-may I say what?" and delicacy sealed Emily's lips. "Yes, Miss Crawford, you have really penetrated into the fountain of→→But no matter'tis a hopeless love: and now go, laugh at me!" "Far far from that," exclaimed Emily, her thoughts dwelling on her passion for Arnold; "because I can pity you!" "Aye-I must be pitied!" returned the young man with violence. "God has allowed me in his mercy," continued he satirically, "to know-to calculate-to mark almost to an instant the hour This melancholy was however materially different from that of young Crawford: it arose not from crime-it could not-never was a more virtuous, a more amiable young man than Henry Hunter. Nor was that melancholy intermittent now capable of being expelled by excitement, nor occasionally forgotten in the society of companions, or by aid of the bottle. It was constantly pre-of my death: and though that death will give sent to tear the heart of him whose peace of mind was gone for ever! Yet his appearance was such as could not fail to attract attention. His figure was genteel, his manners soft and polite, and his features far from displeasing. We may therefore suppose how great was Miss Crawford's astonishment, when he presented himself at the house of her aunt and she could not help exclaiming, as there were no other visitors there at the instant, "Good heavens! Mr. Hunter, you have been very ill!" No, Miss Crawford," replied the young man, smiling bitterly. "Mental affliction alone has worked in me this change which has doubtless struck you." relief to all my sorrows-though in the grave The "Indeed, then, the ravages of sorrow must be far more severe than those of the most dangerous malady-the most deplorable bodily injury." "Yes: you are right. When the body is tor--where, then, am I happy?" mented with the stings of a grievous sickness, man can generally calculate the probable termination of his pain and suffering: but when the mfnd has been mortally wounded by the stroke of affliction-when the heart--" and he struck his hand against his breast with fearful violence, as he elevated his voice at the same time--" is oppressed by secret and incurable woe-by an internal sorrow that no drug can remove, no earthly anodyne alleviate, never, never can we fix the era of that mind's convalescencé at an earlier period than the date of death-the presence of the destroyer!" "But your love may not be so hopeless as you deem it-so fruitlessly bestowed as you imagine it," remarked Emily, affected by the energy with which Hunter had uttered the foregoing words. "This is indeed the language of despair!" exclaimed Mrs. Otway, wiping a tear from her eye; "and you-young man-what deeply-rooted woes can you have graven on your heart at so early an age?" "I will not, ladies, betray my ridiculous griefs to ye," returned Hunter, while one of those bitter smiles, which expressed the state of his feelings far better than a thousand words, agitated his lips. "No-I will not expose my follies-my weaknesses to your ears; and yet," he continued slowly, "since man would laugh at my avowal of them would treat my tale with scorn or jesting -who but woman can sympathize with me-can patiently be made the confidant of my sorrows?" If you will allow me to speak," exclaimed Emily, "I think I have divined the nature of them? A sudden idea has struck me." "Then art thou an enchantress," was Hunter's reply, while a blush mantled on his cheek, and left it paler by the contrast than before. "Indeed it is! From certain expressions from certain peculiarities of manner that I noticed, at the commencement of my passion, on the part of her I adore, I found her heart to be another's -for ever, yes-for ever estranged from me! I discovered that it could not beat in unison with mine: that it could only pity, never love me. And then how selfish, how jealous is love! I hate the man she will render happy-and yet I have never seen himor, having seen him, know him not. I detest the individual, who is the object of her affection-while I am ignorant of his name, and probably of his person. But I find that this hand could almost grasp a dagger to pierce the breast on which the head of her may one day repose- -Oh! yes-I feel shame to myself, that this hand could do it!" "You affect me, young man," cried the old lady, once more wiping her eyes, while Emily's tears fell plenteously. "How tender must be thy heart!" "Tender! I would that it were flint-that it were rock; or that I had never loved. Tender! 'tis ruined-seard incurably-withered-broken" -and his voice was choked with terrible emotion, as he buried his face in his hands. Neither Emily nor her aunt interrupted the pause that ensued; they pitied a fellow creature's sorrows, and considered them too sacred to intrude upon by even the syllables of commiseration. "No--the very words you made use of, relative to a confession of your misery to men and to However," cried Hunter, at length recovering women, have betrayed you. It is not caused by partial tranquility, and raising his head abruptly, wrecked ambition, defeated schemes of worldly"it has pleased God to afflict me; and yet what gain, avaricious prospects blasted: jealousy, envy, | have I done to offend the Majesty of Heaven? What sin can be laid to my charge? Many a wicked man, proud in the career of enormity, walks scathelessly and even prosperously on the face of the earth, while I-I, that have never acted contrary to the divine laws-I am persecuted-I, the innocent, the guiltless, am crushed -bruised-overpowered-ruined! What exists in the world to prevent me from committing suicide? What can hinder me from curtailing an existence I am wearied of an existence composed of maddening nights, and a series of miserable days? What is it to me if the sun shine brightly? its beams only increase the heat of my boiling blood, which circulates like fiery lead through my throbbing veins! What is it to me that the flowers flourish-the trees vegetate-or that Nature is blooming and fair? how can I enjoy the world's beauties? They are thriving and gay I am a sapling stricken by the vengeful storm-destroyed-whithered-dead!" And with these words, the melancholy victim of blighted love and hopeless passion seized his hat, made but a few steps towards the door, and rushed from the house. Only five doors up the street," remarked Mrs. Otway. ""Tis a good one too, and cheap, which is its best recommendation. The hotels are really so vilely dear in London, Mr. Arnold, now-a-days, that it's quite shocking. I'm sure I spent-let me see, what did I spend-why, at the hotel, square-" "Indeed, madam, so much as that?" said Arnold, who had been whispering soft things in Emily's ear, while Mrs. Otway slowly drawled out the above sentence; and of course, only catching the last words, he understood nothing. "As much as what, sir?" asked the old lady. "Oh! I fancied- -that is,-I thought you were at very great expense in London, madam.My dearest girl," added he, aside to Miss Crawford, while the aunt commenced another harangue, "how delighted I am to be thus enabled to see thee-to talk with—to hear thee--to tell thee my love—and to drink from those lips the enraptured tones of a reciprocal "England than France-is it not so, Mr. Arnold?" were the words that interrupted his impassioned language, and which were the conclusion of some remarks the old lady had made, respecting the comparative cheapness of the two countries, having been frequently at Paris. "Yes, madam, I agree with you perfectly," returned Arnold, entirely ignorant of what she had been saying. "And now, ladies," he added, taking up his hat, I shall trespass no longer upon your time. This scene left an unpleasant impression on the minds of Emily and her aunt for the rest of the day. So changed from what he formerly was -so decayed in health-so sunken from liveliness to disease and despair-so lost to the whisperings of hope, or the breath of consolation, was the unfortunate being that had just left them! The evening, therefore, was cheerless, and dull for both; till suddenly a loud knock at the front door in- "You will call to-morrow, sir," said Mrs. terrupted the silence that reigned in the drawing-Otway; we shall always be delighted to see room, and awakened the aunt from a certain you." rowsiness, which, not amounting to an absolute slumber, had come upon her. Presently the door opened—and Arnold entered the room. "Ah! Mr. Arnold," cried Emily, with delight beaming in her eyes, forgetting at the same moment poor Hunter and his sorrows; what accident brought you hither?" 66 "Yourself, dear one," replied he in a low voice -and then thus aloud," merely a matter of urgent business, Miss Crawford-nothing more.' "Allow me to present you to my aunt?" and the formal introduction accordingly took place. "I must apologize for disturbing Mrs. Otway so unseasonably," exclaimed Arnold; "but the friendship I bear the family of Mrs. Crawford induced me to No apology is necessary, sir, I assure you returned the old lady as cordially as she was able. "I have heard of your kindness "Oh! not at all," interrupted Arnold, seating himself by Emily, and squeezing her hand when the aunt's head was turned another way. "I came by the coach ten minutes ago, and hurried to see you as speedily as possible," he added, while his glance met that of her who loved him. "Did you see my mother, as you passed the house?" 66 "A thousand thanks, madam; I shall not fail to take advantage of your very kind invitation ;---and after casting a significant look at Emily, Arnold withdrew. Poor Emily! thou art marked out as a victim of his lusts-the prey to his designs: a fangled net, which thou thyself hast partially though innocently woven, is about to be cast around thee! Oh! that thou may'st escape the specious snare-the complicated meshes! On the following morning, Arnold again called at Mrs. Otway's house, where he found the unfortunate Hunter seated with Emily and her aunt, and endeavouring to wile away an hour in their society. Mrs. Otway herself had taken a great liking to the unhappy youth, and endea voured to her utmost to cheer up his sinking spirits by a lively discourse: but he felt the barrenness of joy his heart experienced; and if a smile did ever pass over his pale countenance, it was only transient, resembling the beam which on a cloudy night the sickly moon casts upon the surface of Winter's snow. After an introduction had been effected, Arnold with his usual elegance of manner, politely questioned him concerning the principal topics of interest at Southampton; and whenever he had an opportunity whispered tender things in the ear of his Emily. Suddenly Hunter arose, and walked towards the window, while a deep sigh escaped his breast, and he exclaimed almost involuntarily," What! can I see man happy, when I myself am wretched? is not the sight an addition to my misery?" "Indeed," remarked Arnold, "all hearts are not really filled with joy, when the lips smile, or when the eyes appear beaming with delight. |