then, as to the name. who styles himself Sir Cecil, fancies she may do-this ring will make my fortune by leading to the discovery of the chief parties concerned in this strange affair.”

Well, if she survives the accident-as the blood,

"Is the poor lady alive?" asked Mrs. Sheppard, eagerly.

"S'blood!" exclaimed Jonathan, hastily thrusting the ring into his vest, and taking up a heavy horseman's pistol with which he had felled Blueskin," I thought you'd been senseless."

"Is she alive?" repeated the widow.

"What's that to you?" demanded Jonathan, gruffly.

Oh, nothing-nothing," returned Mrs. Sheppard. me if her husband has escaped ?"

"But pray tell

"A husband has

"Her husband!" echoed Jonathan, scornfully. little to fear from his wife's kinsfolk. Her lover, Darrell, has em barked upon the Thames, where, if he's not capsized by the squall, (for it's blowing like the devil,) he stands a good chance of getting his throat cut by his pursuers-ha! ha! I tracked 'em to the banks of the river, and should have followed to see it out, if the watermen hadn't refused to take me. However, as things have turned up, it's fortunate that I came back."

"It is indeed," replied Mrs. Sheppard; "most fortunate for me." "For you!" exclaimed Jonathan; "don't flatter yourself that I'm thinking of you. Blueskin might have butchered you and your brat before I'd have lifted a finger to prevent him, if it hadn't suited my purposes to do so, and he hadn't incurred my displeasure. I never forgive an injury. Your husband could have told you that."

66

How had he offended you?" inquired the widow.

"I'll tell you," answered Jonathan, sternly. "He thwarted my schemes twice. The first time I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,-Wood, the carpenter of Wych street,--he betrayed me. I told him I would bring him to the gallows, and I was as good as my word."

"You were so," replied Mrs. Sheppard; "and for that wicked deed you will one day be brought to the gallows yourself."

"Not before I have conducted your child thither," retorted Jonathan, with a withering look.

"Ah!" ejaculated Mrs. Sheppard, paralyzed by the threat.

"If that sickly brat lives to be a man," continued Jonathan, rising, "I'll hang him upon the same tree as his father."

'Pity!" shrieked the widow.

I'll be his evil genius!" vociferated Jonathan, who seemed to enjoy her torture.

"Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses."

"Curse on, and welcome," jeered Wild.

Mrs. Sheppard raised her hand, and the malediction trembled upon her tongue. But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child.

"A mother's prayers-a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice." "We shall see," rejoined Jonathan, turning carelessly upon his heel. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor.

CHAPTER VI.

THE STORM.

As soon as he was liberated by his persecutors, Mr. Wood set off at full speed from the Mint, and, hurrying he scarce knew whither, (for there was such a continual buzzing in his ears and dancing in his eyes, as almost to take away the power of reflection,) he held on at a brisk place till his strength completely failed him.

On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a som bre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him. This structure at once satisfied him as to where he stood. He knew it to be Saint Saviour's Church. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. The solemn strokes were immediately answered by a multitude of chimes, sounding across the Thames, amongst which the deep note of St. Paul's was plainly distinguishable. A feeling of inexplicable awe crept over the carpenter as the sounds died away. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. The peculiar appearance of the sky was not without some influence in awakening these terrors. Over one of the pinnacles of the tower a speck of pallid light marked the position of the moon, then newly born and newly risen. It was still profoundly dark; but the wind, which had begun to blow with some violence, chased the clouds rapidly across the heavens, and dispersed the vapours hanging nearer the earth. Sometimes the moon was totally eclipsed; at others, it shed a wan and ghastly glimmer over the masses rolling in the firmament. Not a star could be discerned, but, in their stead, streaks of lurid radiance, whence proceeding it was impossible to determine, shot ever and anon athwart the dusky vault, and added to the ominous and threatening appearance of the night.

Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and other. wise refresh himself. With this view, he struck off into a narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small ale-house, over the door of which hung the sign of the "Welsh Trumpeter."

"Let me have a glass of brandy," said he, addressing the host.

"Too late, master," replied the landlord of the Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop."

"Zounds! David Pugh, don't you know your old friend and coun tryman?" exclaimed the carpenter.

"Ah! Owen Wood, is it you?" cried David, in astonishment. "What the devil makes you out so late? And what has happened to you, man, eh ?—you seem in a queer plight."

"Give me the brandy, and I'll tell you," replied Wood.

"Here, wife-hostess-fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard.-There, Mr. Wood," cried Davis, pouring out a glass of the spirit, and offering it to the carpenter, "that'll warm the cockles of your heart. Don't be afraid, man,-off with it. It's right Nantz. I keep it for my own drinking," he added, in a lower tone.

Mr. Wood having disposed of the brandy, and pronounced himself much better, hurried close to the fire-side, and informed his friend in a few words of the inhospitable treatment he had experienced from the gentlemen of the Mint; whereupon Mr. Pugh, who, as well as the carpenter, was a descendant of Cadwallader, waxed extremely wroth; gave utterance to a number of fierce-sounding imprecations in the Welsh tongue; and was just beginning to express the greatest anxiety to catch some of the rascals at the Trumpeter, when Mr. Wood cut him short by stating his intention of crossing the river as soon as pos sible in order to avoid the storm.

"A storm!" exclaimed the landlord. "Gadzooks! I thought something was coming on; for when I looked at the weather-glass an hour ago, it had sunk lower than I ever remember it."

"We shall have a dirty night on it, to a sartinty, landlord," observed an old one-eyed sailor, who sat smoking his pipe by the fireside. "The glass never sinks in that way, d'ye see, without a hurri cane follerin'. I've knowed it often do so in the West Injees. Moreover, a couple o' porpusses came up with the tide this mornin', and ha' bin flounderin' about i' the Thames abuv Lunnun Bridge all day long; and them say-monsters, you know, always proves sure fore-runners of a gále."

"Then the sooner I'm off the better," cried Wood; "what's to pay, David ?"