In travelling by rail, the same thing sometimes, after months or even years, happens over and over. When I leave in " Book Notices,” or other newspaper a town in the morning, some one is articles. Thus the serene path of litsure to enter the car and greet me in a erature, which the aspiring youth imloud voice: “How are you, Mr. Green ? agines to be so fair and sunny, overWhat a fine lecture you gave us last spread with the mellowest ideal tints, night!” Then the other travellers turn becomes rough and cloudy. No doubt and look at me, listen to catch my words, I am to blame: possibly I am rightly and tell the new-comers at every sta- treated : I “belong to the public,” I tion, until I 'm afraid to take a nap for am told with endless congratulatory fear of snoring, afraid to read lest iteration, and therefore I ought not to somebody should be scandalized at my feel the difference between the public's novel, or to lunch lest I should be re- original humoring of my moods, and ported as a drunkard for taking a sip my present enforced humoring of its of sherry (the physician prescribes it) moods. But I do feel it, somehow. I from a pocket-flask. At such times I have of late entertained the suspicion, envy the fellow in homespun on the that I am not wholly the creation of seat in front of me, who loafs, yawns, popular favor. “The public," I am eats, and drinks as he pleases, and no- sure, never furnished me with my comic body gives him a second glance. or my lively-serious vein of writing. If

When I am not recognized, I some- either of those veins had not been found times meet with another experience, good, they would not have encouraged which was a little annoying until I be- me to work them. I declare, boldly, came accustomed to it. I am the sub- that I give an ample return for what I ject of very unembarrassed conversa- get, and when I satisfy curiosity or yield tion, and hear things said of me that to unreasonable demands upon my pasometimes flatter and sometimes sting. tience and good-humor, it is “to boot." It is true that I have learned many cu- Nevertheless, it is a generous public, rious and unsuspected facts concerning on the whole, and gives trouble only my birth, parentage, history, and opin- through thoughtlessness, not malice. ions; but, on the other hand, I am hu- It delights in its favorites, because miliated by the knowledge of what tex- imagining that they so intensely enjoy ture a great deal of my reputation is its favor. And don't we, after all ? (I made. Sometimes I am

say we purposely, and my publisher founded with Graves, whom, as an au- will tell you why.) Now that I have thor, I detest; my

“ Tin Trumpet

written away my vexation, I recognize being ascribed to him, and his “Drip- very clearly that my object in writing pings from the Living Rock” being ad- this article is apology rather than commired as mine! At such times, it is plaint. All whom I have ever rudely very difficult to preserve my incognito. treated will now comprehend the unforI have wondered that nobody ever reads tunate circumstances under which the the truth in my indignant face.

act occurred. If some one should visAs a consequence of all these trials, it me to-morrow, I have no doubt he I sometimes become impatient, inac- will write: “Mr. Dionysius Green is cessible to compliment, and — since the all, and more than all, one would antitruth must be told — a little ill-tem- cipate from reading his charming works. pered. My temperament, as my family Benevolence beams from his brow, fanand friends know, is of an unusually cy sparkles from his eyes, and genial genial and amiable quality, and I never sympathy with all mankind sits ensnub an innocent but indiscreet ad- throned upon his lips. It was a rare mirer without afterwards repenting of pleasure to me to listen to his conversamy rudeness. I have often, indeed, a tion, and I could but wish that the many double motive for repentance; for those thousands of his admirers might enjoy snubs carry their operation far beyond the privilege of an interview with so their recipients, and come back to me Distinguished a Character !”

even

con

GRIFFITH GAUNT; OR, JEALOUSY.

a

SHE

men.

IT IS

CHAPTER XXXIX.

foul deed. We must now do our duty,

gentlemen, without respect of persons." HE recoiled with a violent shudder A warrant was then issued for the ap

at first; and hid her face with one prehension of Thomas Leicester. And, hand. Then she gradually stole a hor- that same night, Mrs. Gaunt left Hernror-stricken side-glance.

shaw in her own chariot between two She had not looked at it a moment, constables, and escorted by armed yeowhen she uttered a loud cry, and pointed at its feet with quivering hand.

Her proud head was bowed almost to 6. THE SHOES! THE SHOES!

her knees, and her streaming eyes hidNOT MY GRIFFITH."

den in her lovely hands. For why? A With this she fell into violent hyster- mob accompanied her for miles, shoutics, and was carried out of the room at ing, “ Murderegs! - Bloody Papist ! Houseman's earnest entreaty.

Hast done to death the kindliest gentleAs soon as she was gone, Mr. House- man in Cumberland. We'll all come man, being freed from his fear that his to see thee hanged. — Fair face but foul client would commit herself irretrieva- heart !” – and groaning, hissing, and bly, recovered a show of composure, cursing, and indeed only kept from and his wits went keenly to work. violence by the escort.

“On behalf of the accused,” said And so they took that poor proud he, “I admit suicide of some per- lady and lodged her in Carl jail. son unknown, wearing heavy hobnailed She was enceinte into the bargain, shoes; probably one of the lower or- By the man she was to be hanged for der of people."

murdering. This adroit remark produced some little effect, notwithstanding the strong feeling against the accused.

CHAPTER XL. The coroner inquired if there were any bodily marks by which the remains The county was against her, with could be identified.

some few exceptions. Sir George Nev“My master had a long black mole ille and Mr. Houseman stood stoutly by on his forehead,” suggested Caroline her. Ryder.

Sir George's influence and money ob“ 'T is here!” cried a juryman, bend- tained her certain comforts in jail ; and, ing over the remains.

in that day, the law of England was so And now they all gathered in great far respected in a jail that untried prisexcitement round the corpus delicti; oners were not thrown into cells, nor and there, sure enough, was a long black impeded, as they now are, in preparing mole.

their defence. Then was there a buzz of pity for Her two stanch friends visited her Griffith Gaunt, followed by a stern mur- every day, and tried to keep her heart mur of execration.

up. “ Gentlemen,” said the coroner sol- But they could not do it. She was emnly, “behold in this the finger of in a state of dejection bordering upon Heaven. The poor gentleman may well lethargy. have put off his boots, since, it seems, "If he is dead,” said she, “what he left his horse ; but he could not take matters it? If, by God's mercy, he is from his forehead his natal sign; and alive still, he will not let me die for that, by God's will, hath strangely es- want of a word from him. Impatience caped mutilation, and revealed a most hath been my bane. Now, I say,

God's will be done. I am weary of the world."

Houseman tried every argument to rouse her out of this desperate frame of mind; but in vain.

It ran its course, and then, behold, it passed away like a cloud, and there came a keen desire to live and defeat her accusers.

She made Houseman write out all the evidence against her; and she studied it by day, and thought of it by night, and often surprised both her friends by the acuteness of her remarks.

Mr. Atkins discontinued his advertisements. It was Houseman, who now filled every paper with notices informing Griffith Gaunt of his accession to fortune, and entreating him for that, and other weighty reasons, to communicate in confidence with his old friend, John Houseman, attorney at law.

Houseman was too wary to invite him to appear and save his wife; for, in that case, he feared the Crown would use his advertisements as evidence at the trial, should Griffith not appear.

The fact is, Houseman relied more upon certain lacuna in the evidence, and the absence of all marks of violence, than upon any hope that Griffith might be alive.

The assizes drew near, and no fresh light broke in upon this mysterious

case.

She exacted a solemn promise of secrecy from them, and then she told them all she had learned from Thomas Leicester.

"And so now," said she, “I believe you can save my life, if you think it is worth saving." And with this, she began to cry bitterly.

But Houseman, the practical, had no patience with the pangs of love betrayed, and jealousy, and such small deer, in a client whose life was at stake. "Great Heaven! madam,” said he, roughly: "why did you not tell me this before?"

"Because I am not a man to go and tell everything, all at once," sobbed Mrs. Gaunt. Besides, I wanted to shield his good name, whose dear life they pretend I have taken."

As soon as she recovered her composure, she begged Sir George Neville to ride to the "Packhorse" for her. Sir George assented eagerly, but asked how he was to find it. "I have thought of that, too," said she. "His black horse has been to and fro. Ride that horse into Lancashire, and give him his head: ten to one but he takes you to the place, or where you may hear of it. If not, go to Lancaster, and ask about the Packhorse.' He wrote to

me from Lancaster: see." And she

Mrs. Gaunt lay in her bed at night, showed him the letter. and thought and thought.

Now the female understanding has sometimes remarkable power under such circumstances. By degrees Truth flashes across it, like lightning in the dark.

After many such nightly meditations, Mrs. Gaunt sent one day for Sir George Neville and Mr. Houseman, and addressed them as follows: :- "I believe he is alive, and that I can guess where he is at this moment."

Both the gentlemen started, and looked amazed.

"Yes, sirs; so sure as we sit here,

Sir George embraced with ardor this opportunity of serving her. "I'll be at Hernshaw in one hour," said he, "and ride the black horse south at once."

"Excuse me," said Houseman; "but would it not be better for me to go? As a lawyer, I may be more able to cope with her."

Nay," said Mrs. Gaunt, "Sir George is young and handsome. If he manages well, she will tell him more than she will you. All I beg of him is to drop the chevalier for this once, and see women with a woman's eyes and not a man's,— see them as they are. Do not go telling