CHAPTER II.

ALICE.

"As I approached the cottage door, my attention was arrested by a low, mournful voice, singing in sad and subdued tones, a ditty which seemed the spontaneous outpouring of a wounded spirit. The words were several times repeated, and I noted them down as I leant upon the trunk of the old tree. Out of sight, but within a few feet of the songstress, whose face was hidden from me by the thick foliage of the glorious old tree, in whose broad-spreading branches, I had played and frolicked when a boy.

"'THE SONG.

I once was happy, blithe and gay, No maiden's heart was half so light; I cannot sing, for well a-day! My morn of bliss is quenched in night.

I cannot weep--my brain is dry, Deep woe usurps the voice of mirth The sunshine of youth's cloudless sky Has faded from this goodly earth.

My soul is wrapped in midnight gloom, And all that charmed my heart before, Droops earthward to the silent tomb, Where darkness dwells for evermore.'

"The voice ceased. I stepped from my hiding-place. Alice rose from the bench beside the door; the work on which she was employed fell from her hand, and she stood before me wild and wan--the faded spectre of past happiness and beauty.

"'Good heavens! Alice, Can this be you?'

"'I may return the compliment,' she said, with a ghastly smile. 'Can this be Philip? Misery has not been partial, or your brow wears its mark in vain.'

"'Unhappy sister of an unhappy brother!' I cried, folding her passive form to my heart, 'I need not ask why you are altered thus.'

"The fire which had been burning in my brain for some weeks, yielded to softer emotions. My head sunk upon her shoulder, and I wept long and bitterly.

"Alice regarded me with a curious and mournful glance, but shed no tears.

"'Alice! That villain has deceived you?'

"She shook her head.

"'It is useless to deny facts so apparent. Do you love him still?'

"She sighed deeply. 'Yes, Philip. But he has ceased to love me.'

"'Deserted you?'

"Her lip quivered. She was silent.

"'The villain! his life shall answer for the wrong he has done you!'

"The blood rushed to her pale, wasted cheeks, her eyes flashed upon me with unnatural brilliancy, and grasping my arm, she fiercely and vehemently replied--

"'Utter that threat but once again, and we become enemies for life. If he has injured me and made me the wreck you see--it is not in the way you think. To destroy him would drive me to despair. It would force me to commit an act of desperation. I will suffer no one to interfere between me and the man I love. I am strong enough to take my own part--to avenge myself, if need be. I can bear my own grief in silence, and therefore beg that you will spare your sympathy for those who weep and pule over misfortune. I would rather be reproached than pitied for sorrows that I draw upon myself.'

"She sat down trembling with excitement, and tried to resume her former occupation. Presently the needle dropped from her hand, and she looked wistfully up in my face:--

"'Philip, what brought you here?'

"'An unwelcome visitor, I fear.'

"'Perhaps so. People always come at the worst times, and when they are least wanted.'

"'Do you include your brother in that sweeping common-place term--has he become to you as one of the people? Ah, Alice.'

"'We have been no more to each other for the last three years, Philip. Your absence and long silence made me forget that I had a brother. Few could suppose it, from the little interest you ever expressed for me.'

"'I did not think of you, or love you the less.'

"'Mere words. Love cannot brook long separation from the object beloved. It withers beneath neglect, and without personal intercourse droops and dies. While you were happy and prosperous you never came near us; and I repeat again--what brings you now?'

"'I have been unfortunate, Alice; the dupe of villains who have robbed me of my property, while my own folly has deprived me of self-respect and peace of mind. Ill and heart-sick, I could not resist the strong desire to return to my native place to die.'

"'There is no peace here, Philip,' said she, in a low soft voice. 'I too, would fain lie down on the lap of mother earth and forget my misery. But we are too young--too wretched to die. Death comes to the good and happy, and cuts down the strong man like the flower of the field; but flies the wretch who courts it, and grins in ghastly mockery on the couch of woe. Take my advice, Philip Mornington, lose no time in leaving this place. Here, danger besets you on every side.'

"'Why, Alice, do you think I fear the puny arm of Theophilus Moncton--the base betrayer of innocence.'

"'Why Theophilus. Spare your reproaches, Philip; we shall quarrel seriously if you mention that name with disrespect to me--I cannot, and will not bear it. It was not him I meant. You have offended our grandmother by your long absence, Dinah loves you not. It is her anger I would warn you to shun.'

"'And do you think I am such a coward, as to tremble and fly from the malice of a peevish old granny?'

"'You laugh at my warning, Philip. You may repent rashness when too late. The fang of the serpent is not deadened by age, and the rancour in the human heart seldom diminishes, with years. Dinah never loved you, and absence has not increased the strength of her affection.'

"'I am not come to solicit charity, Alice. I have still enough to pay the old woman handsomely for board and lodging until my health returns, or death terminates my sufferings. If Dinah takes me--a fact I do not doubt--she loves money. Where is she now?'

"'In the village, I expect her in every minute.'

"'And Miss Moncton?' I said, hesitating, and lowering my voice. 'How is she?'

"'I don't know,' returned Alice, carelessly, 'the Hall is no longer open to me.'

"'That tells its own tale,' said I sorrowfully.

"'The tale may be false, in spite of probability,' returned she fiercely. 'No one should dare openly condemn another without sufficient evidence.'

"'They need not go far for that,' said I.

"'That is your opinion.'

"'On most conclusive evidence.'

"'How charitable.'

"'How true, Alice.'

"'False as the world. As you, as every one is to the unfortunate,' she cried, with indignation in her eyes and scorn upon her lip, 'but here is Dinah--Dinah, whom you consider unfeeling and cruel. She knows me, and loves me better than you do. She does not join with a parcel of conventional hypocrites to condemn me.'

"As she ceased speaking, Dinah entered with a basket on her arm. After the first surprise at my unexpected and unwelcome appearance was over, she accosted me with more amenity of look and manner than I ever before knew her to assume.

"'How are you, Philip? you look ill. Suppose you have got into some trouble, or we should not be honoured by a visit?'

"'You are right, in part, grandmother. I have been sick for some days, and have come home for change of air and good nursing.'

"I put a handful of gold in her lap. 'You see I am willing and able to pay for the trouble I give. When this is gone, you can have more.'

"'Money is always welcome--more welcome often than those that bring it. All things considered, however, I am glad to see you. When relatives are too long separated, they become strangers to each other. Alice and I had concluded that you only regarded us as such. The sight of you will renew the old tie of kindred, and make you one of us again. Quick, Alice, get your brother some supper; he must be hungry after his long journey.'

"'I am in no need; Alice, do not trouble yourself; I feel too ill to eat; I will go to bed if you please. All I want at present is _rest_.'

"Dinah, who was passing the gold from one hand to the other, and gazing upon it with infinite satisfaction, suddenly looked up and repeated the last word after me, with peculiar emphasis.

"'_Rest!_ Who rests in this world? Even sleep is not rest; the body sleeps, but the soul toils on, on, on, for ever. There is no such thing as rest. If I thought so, I would put an end to my existence to-morrow--I would; and meet death as a liberator from the vexatious turmoils of life.'

"There was something in these words which filled my mind with an indescribable horror--a perfect dread of endless duration. I had always looked upon the grave as a place of rest--a haven of peace from the cares of life. That old raven, with her dismal croaking, had banished the pleasing illusion, and made me nervously sensitive to the terrors of a living, conscious eternity. Whilst undressing to go to bed, I was seized with violent shivering fits, and before morning was delirious, and in a high fever.

"I had never suffered from severe illness before; I had often been afflicted in mind, but not in body. I now had to endure the horrors of both combined. For the first fortnight I was too ill to think. I was in the condition of the unfortunate patriarch, who in the morning exclaimed, 'Would God it were night!' and when night came, reversed the feverish hope.

"There were moments, however, during the burning hours of these sleepless nights, when the crimes of the past, and the uncertainty of the future, rushed before me in terrible distinctness; when I tried to pray and could not, and sought comfort from the Word of God, and found every line a condemnation. Oh, those dreadful days and nights, when I lay a hopeless, self-condemned expectant of misery, shuddering on the awful brink of eternity, shrieking to the Almighty Father for peace, and finding none; seeking for rest with strong cries and tears, and being repaid with ten-fold agony. May I never again suffer in flesh and spirit what I then endured!

"The poor lost girl who watched my bed, beheld the fierce tossings of pain, the agonies of remorse, the icy apathy. She could neither direct nor assist my mind in its struggles to obtain one faint glimmer of light through the dense gloom caused by infidelity and sin.

"Death--natural death--the mere extinction of animal life, I did not dread. Had the conflict ended with annihilation, I might have welcomed it with joy. But death unaccompanied by total extinction was horrible. To be deprived of moral life--to find the soul for ever separated from God, all its high and noble faculties destroyed, while all that was infamous and debasing remained to form a hell of memory, an eternity of despair, was a conviction so dreadful, so appalling to my mind, that my reason for a time bowed before it, and for some days I was conscious of nothing else.

"This fiery trial yielded at last. I became more tractable, and could think more calmly upon the awful subject ever uppermost in my mind. I felt a strong desire to pray, to acknowledge my guilt to Almighty God, and sue for pardon, and restoration to peace and happiness. I could not express my repentance in words, I could only sigh and weep, but He who looks upon the naked human heart, knew that my contrition was sincere, and accepted the unformed petition.

"As the hart panteth for the water brooks, so did my thirsty soul pant for the refreshing waters of life. In feeble tones I implored Alice to read to me from the New Testament. My eyes were so much affected by the fever, that I could scarcely distinguish the objects round me.

"The request was distasteful, and she evaded it for many days--at last, replied testily.

"'There is not such a book in the house--never was; and you know that quite well.'

"'You can borrow one from the schoolmaster in the village.'

"'I will do no such thing. A pretty story truly, to go the rounds of Moncton. That the Morningtons were such godless people they had no Bible in the house, and had to borrow one. They say that Dinah is a witch, and that would confirm it.'

"'Send the boy that cuts sticks in the wood. Let him ask it as if for his mother. I know Mr. Ludd will lend it for a good purpose; and tell the boy I will give him half a sovereign for his pains.'

"'Nonsense! Why that would buy the book.'

"'Oh, do buy it, Alice, my good angel; for the love of God! send and buy it. You will find my purse in my coat-pocket. It will be the best money that was ever laid out by me.'

"'You had better be still and go to sleep, Philip; you are too ill to bear the fatigue of reading yet.'

"This was dreadfully tantalizing, but I was forced to submit. The next morning she brought me a cup of tea. I looked wistfully in her face.

"'Dear Alice, you could give me something that would do me more good than this.'

"'Some broth, perhaps; sick people always fancy everything that is not at hand.'

"'That book.'

"'Are you thinking about that still?'

"'I long for the bread of life.'

"'Do you want to turn Methodist?'

"'I wish to become a Christian.'

"'Are you not one already?'

"'Oh, no, no, Alice! All my life long I have denied the word of God and the power of salvation; and now, I would give the whole world, if I possessed it, to obtain the true riches. Do, dear sister, grant my earnest request, and may the God of all mercy bring you to a knowledge of the truth.'

"'I hate cant,' said Alice, discontentedly, 'but I will see what I can do for you.'

"She took some money from my purse and left the room.

"Hours passed away. I listened for her returning footsteps until I fell asleep. It was night when I again unclosed my eyes. Alice was sitting by the little table reading. Oh, blessed sight. The Bible lay open before her.

"'I dreamt it,' I cried joyfully. 'I dreamt that you got it, and God has brought it to pass. Oh, dear Alice you have made me so happy.'

"'What shall I read?

"I was puzzled; so much had I become a stranger to the sacred volume, that though it had formed a portion of my school and college studies, the little interest then felt in its contents, had made me almost a stranger to them.

"'Read the Gospel of St. John.'

"'A chapter you mean.'

"'As much as you can. Until you are tired.'

"She began at the opening chapter of that sublime gospel, in which we have so much of the mind of Jesus, though less of his wondrous parables and miracles; but matter which is higher, more mysterious, spiritual and satisfying to the soul. Nor could I suffer her to lay aside the book until it was concluded.

"How eagerly I drank in every word, and long after every eye was closed in sleep I continued in meditation and prayer. A thousand times I repeated to myself, 'And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free,' What a glorious emancipation from the chains of sin and death! Oh, how I longed for a knowledge of that truth, and the answer came:--'O Lord thy word is truth;' and the problem in my soul was satisfied, and with a solemn thanksgiving I devoted myself to the service of God. A calm and holy peace came down upon my soul, and that night I enjoyed the first refreshing sleep I had known for many weeks.

"In the morning I was much better, but still too weak to leave my bed.

"I spent most of the day in reading the Bible. Alice had relaxed much of her attention and I only saw her during the brief periods when she administered medicine, or brought me broth or gruel.

"I felt hurt at her coldness; but it was something more than mere coldness. Her manner had become sullen and disagreeable. She answered me abruptly and in monosyllables, and appeared rather sorry than glad, that I was in a fair way of recovering.

"I often heard her and Dinah hold confused whispering conversations, in the outer room into which mine opened, the cottage being entirely on the ground floor, and one evening I thought I recognized the deep tones of a man's voice. I tried to catch a part of their discourse, but the sounds were too low and guarded to make anything out. A short time after I heard the sound of horses' hoofs upon the gravel walk which led past the cottage into the park. I sat up in the bed which was opposite the window, which commanded a view of the road, and perceived, to my dismay, that the stranger was no other than Robert Moncton, who was riding towards the village.

"A dread of something--I scarcely knew what--took possession of my mind, and remembering my weak, helpless state, and how completely I was in the power of Dinah North, I gave myself up to vague apprehensions of approaching evil.

"Ashamed of my weakness, I took the sacred volume from under my pillow, and soon regained my self-possession. I felt that I was in the hands of God, and that all things regarding me would be ordered for the right. Oh, what a blessing is this trust in the care of an overruling Providence! how it relieves one from brooding over the torturing fears of what may accrue on the morrow, verifying the divine proverb: 'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof!'

"A thick, dark, rainy night had closed in, when my chamber door opened, and Alice glided in. She held in her hand a small tray, on which was a large tumbler of mulled wine and some dry toast. I had not tasted food since noon, and I felt both faint and hungry. A strange, ghastly expression flitted over my sister's face, which was unusually pale, as she sat down on the side of the bed.

"'You have been a long time away,' said I, with the peevish fretfulness of an invalid. 'If you were ill and incapable of helping yourself, Alice, I would not neglect you, and leave you for hours in this way. I might have died during your absence.'

"'No fear of that, Philip. You are growing cross, which is always a good sign. I would have come sooner, but had so many things to attend to, that it was impossible. Dinah is too old to work, and all the household work falls on me. But, how are you?'

"'Better, but very hungry.'

"'I don't doubt it. It is time you took something. I have got a little treat for you--some fine mulled sherry--it will do you good and strengthen you.'

"'I don't care for it,' said I, with an air of disgust. 'I am very thirsty. Give me a cup of tea.'

"'We got tea hours ago, when you were asleep, and there is not a drop of hot water in the kettle. The wine is more nourishing. The doctor recommended it. Do taste it, and see how good it is!'

"'I tried to comply with her request. A shudder came over me as I put the tumbler to my lips. 'It's of no use,' I said, putting it back on to the tray. 'I cannot drink it.'

"'If you love me, Philip, try. Drink a little, if you can, I made it on purpose to please you.'

"She bent her large bright eyes on me with an anxious, dubious expression--a strange, wild look, such as I never saw her face wear before.

"I looked at her in return, with a curious, searching gaze. I did not exactly suspect her of any evil intention towards me, but her manner was mysterious, and excited surprise.

"She changed colour, and turned away.

"A sudden thought darted through my brain. Robert Moncton had been there. He coveted my death, for what reason I could not fathom. I only knew the fact. What if that draught were poison!--and suspicion, once aroused, whispered it is poison.

"I rose slowly in the bed, and grasped her firmly by the wrist.

"'Alice! we will drink of that glass together. You look faint and pale. The contents will set you all right. Take half and I will drink the rest.'

"'I never drink wine.'

"'You dare not drink _that_ wine,' said I.

"'If I liked it, what should hinder me?'

"'You could not like it, Alice. It is _poison_!'

"A faint cry burst from her lips.

"'God of heaven! who told you that?'

"'Flesh and blood did not reveal it to me. Alice, Alice, how could I imagine such a thing of you?'

"'How, indeed!' murmured the wretched girl, weeping passionately. '_She_ persuaded me to bring it to you. _He_ mixed the wine. I--I had nothing else to do with it.'

"'Yet to you, as a willing instrument of evil, they entrusted the most important part of their hellish mission.'

"She flung herself on her knees beside the bed, and raising her clasped hands and streaming eyes to Heaven implored God to forgive her for the crime she had premeditated against my life, binding herself in an awful curse, not only to devise means to save my life, but to remove me from the cottage.

"'As to you, Philip, I dare not ask you to forgive me: I only implore you not to curse me.'

"'I should entertain a very poor opinion of myself, if I should refuse to do the one, or attempt such an act of wickedness as is involved in the other. But, Alice, do not think that I can excuse the commission of such a dreadful crime as murder--and upon whom? A brother who loved you tenderly--who, to his own knowledge, never injured you in word, thought or deed.'

"'Philip, you are not my brother, or the deed had never been attempted.'

"'Not your brother! Who am I then?'

"'I cannot--dare not tell you. At least not now. Escape from this dreadful place, and some future time may reveal it.'

"'You talk of escape as a thing practicable and easy. I am so weak I can scarcely stand, much less walk ten paces from the house. How can I get away unknown to Dinah?'

"'Listen to me--I will tell you.' She rose from her knees, and gliding to the door which led to the outer room, she gently unclosed it, and leaning forward looked cautiously into the outer space. Satisfied that it was vacant, she returned stealthily to my bed-side.

"'I must make Dinah believe that you have drank this wine. In less than two hours you will, in her estimation, be dead. Not a creature knows of your return. For our own sakes, we have kept your being here a profound secret. Robert Moncton, however, was duly informed by Dinah of your visit. He came this morning to the house, and they concocted this scheme between them. She is now absent looking for a convenient spot for a grave for your body when dead. She talked of the dark shrubbery. That spot is seldom visited by any one, because the neighbours fancy that it is haunted. You know how afraid we were of going near those dark, shadowy yews when we were children. Margaret used to call it the valley of the shadow of death.'

"'And it was there,' said I, with a shudder, 'that you meant to bury me?'

"'There--I have promised to drag your body to the spot in a sack, and help Dinah to make your grave. But hist! I thought I heard a step. We have no time to waste in idle words.'

"'She cannot bury me, you know, without my consent, before I am dead,' said I, with a faint smile. 'Nor can I imagine how you will be able to deceive her. She will certainly discover the difference between an empty sack and a full one.'

"'I have hit on a plan, which, if well managed, will lull her suspicions to sleep. You know the broken statue of Apollo, that lies at the entrance of the Lodge? It is about your size. It once belonged to the Hall gardens, and Sir Alexander gave it to me for a plaything years ago. I did not care for such a huge doll, and it has lain there ever since. I will convey this to your chamber, and dress it in your night-clothes. The sack will cover the mutilated limbs, and by the dim, uncertain light of the dark lantern, she will never discover the cheat.'

"'But if she should insist on inspecting the body?'

"'I will prevent it. In the meanwhile you must be prepared to leave the house when I come to fetch the body.'

"I felt very sick, and buried my face in the pillows.

"'I do not care to go; let me stay here and die.'

"'You must live for my sake,' cried the unhappy girl, clasping my cold hand to her heart, and covering it with kisses. 'If you fail me now, we are both lost. Dinah would never forgive me for betraying her and Moncton. Do you doubt that what I have told you is true?'

"'Not in the least, Alice; but I am so weak and ill--so forsaken and unhappy, that I no longer care for the life you offer.'

"'It was the gift of God. You must not throw it away. He may have work on the earth which he requires you to do.'

"These words saved me. I no longer hesitated to take the chance she offered me, though I entertained small hopes of its success. Yet if the hand of Providence was stretched out to rescue me from destruction, it was only right for me to yield to its guidance with obedient gratitude and praise.

"Alice was about to leave the room: she once more returned to my side.

"'Say that you forgive me, Philip.'

"I folded her in my thin wasted arms, and imprinted a kiss on her rigid brow.

"'From my very heart!'

"'God bless you! Philip. I will love and cherish your memory to my dying hour.'

"The house-door opened suddenly; she tore herself from my embrace. 'Dinah is coming--lie quite still--moan often, as if in pain, and leave me to manage the rest.'

"She left the chamber, and the door purposely ajar, that I might be guided in my conduct by what passed between them.

"'Did he drink it?' whispered the dreadful woman.

"'He did.'

"'And how does it agree with his stomach?' she laughed--her low, horrid laugh.

"'As might be expected--he feels _rather_ qualmish.'

"'Ha, ha,!' cried the old fiend, rubbing her withered long hands together, 'you came Delilah over him. Our pretty Samson is caught at last. Let me see--how long will it be before the poison takes effect--about two hours--when did he take it?'

"'About an hour ago. He is almost insensible. Don't you hear him groan. The struggle will soon be over.'

"'And then my bonny bird will have no rival to wealth and power. What your mother, by her obstinate folly, lost, your wit and prudence, my beauty, will regain.'

"This speech of Dinah's was to me perfectly inexplicable. I heard Alice sigh deeply, but she did not reply.

"The old woman left the cottage but quickly returned.

"'I want the spade.'

"'You will find it in the out-house; the mattock is there, too; you will need it to break the hard ground.'

"'No, no; my arm is strong yet--stronger than you think, for a woman of my years. The heavy rain has moistened the earth. The spade will do the job; we need not make a deep grave. No one will ever look for him there.'

"'The place was always haunted, and it will be doubly so now.'

"'Pshaw! who believes in ghosts. The dead are dead--lost--gone for ever; grass springs from them, and their juices go to fatten worms and nourish the weeds of the earth. Light me the lantern and I will defy all the ghosts and demons in the world; and hark you, Alice, the moment he is dead put the body in a sack, and call me to help to drag it to the grave. I shall have it ready in no time.'

"'Monster!' I muttered to myself, 'the pit you are preparing for me, ere long, may open beneath your own feet.'

"I heard the old woman close the front door after her, and presently Alice re-entered my chamber.

"'Well, thank God she is gone on her unholy task. Now, Philip! now--lose no time--rise, dress yourself, and get off as fast as you can!'

"I endeavoured to obey, but exhausted by long sickness I fell back fainting upon the bed.

"'Stay,' said Alice, 'you are weak for the want of nourishment. I will get you food and drink.'

"She brought me a glass of port wine, and some sandwiches. I drank the wine eagerly, but I could not touch the food. The wine gave me a fictitious strength. After making several efforts I was able to rise and dress, the excitement of the moment and the hope of escape acting as powerful stimulants. I secured all that remained of my small fund of money, tied up a change of linen in a pocket-handkerchief, kissed the pale girl who stood cold and tearless at my side, and committing myself to the care of God, stole out into the dark night.

"I breathed again the fresh air, and my former vigour of mind returned. I felt like one just freed from prison, after having had sentence of death pronounced against him, I was once more free; I had miraculously escaped from death and danger, and silently and fervently I offered up a grateful prayer to the Heavenly Father, to whom I was indebted for such a signal act of mercy.

"You will think it strange, Geoffrey--the whim of a madman--but I felt an insatiable curiosity to witness the interment of my supposed body, to see how Alice would carry out the last act of the tragic drama.

"The wish was no sooner formed, than I prepared to carry it into execution.

"The yew shrubbery lay at the north end of the cottage, and was divided from the road, by a clipped holly hedge. A large yew tree grew out of the centre of this hedge, which had been clipped to represent a watch tower. Open spaces having been left for loop-holes. Through these square green apertures, I had often, when a boy, made war upon the blackbirds and sparrows, unseen by my tiny game.

"By creeping close to the hedge, and looking through one of these loop-holes, I could observe all that was passing within the shrubbery, without being observed by Dinah or Alice. Cautiously stealing along, for the night was intensely dark, and guiding my steps by the thick hedge, which resembled a massy green wall, I reached the angle where it turned off into the park. In this corner stood the green tower I was seeking, and climbing softly the gate which led into the spacious domain of the Monctons, I stepped upon a stone block used by the domestics for mounting horses, and thus raised several feet from the ground, I could distinctly observe, through the opening in the tree, all that was passing below.

"A faint light directly beneath me, gleamed up in the dense drizzly darkness, and shone on the hideous features of that abhorred old woman, who was leaning over a shallow grave she had just scooped out of the wet dank soil. Her arms rested on the top of the spade, and she scowled down into the pit that yawned at her feet, with a smile of derision on her thin sarcastic lips.

"'It's deep enough to hide him from the light of day. There's neither a shroud nor coffin to take up the room, and he is worn to a skeleton by his long sickness. Yes; there let him rest till the judgment-day! the worm for his mate and the cold clay for his pillow; I wish the same bed held all his accursed race. And his pale-faced, dainty mother--where is she? Does her spirit hover near, to welcome her darling to the land of dreams?'

"A light step sounded on the narrow path which led from the shrubbery to the cottage, accompanied by a dull lumbering sound.

"Dinah raised the lantern from the side of the grave, and held it up into the dark night.

"'Alice?'

"'Dinah!'

"'Is he dead?'

"'Yes. Here, lend a hand. The body is dreadfully heavy. I am almost killed with dragging it hither.'

"'You did not bring it alone!'

"'Who could I ask to help me? and I was so afraid of discovery, I dared not leave it to come for you.'

"The old woman put down the light, and went to help her granddaughter.

"'Let us roll the body into the grave, mother.'

"'Not yet--I must look at him.'

"'He makes a dreadful corpse.'

"'Death is no flatterer, child. Hold up the light.'

"'No, no!--You must not--you shall not triumph over him now. Let the dead rest, I dare not look upon that blue cold face, those staring eyes again.'

"'Who wants you, foolish child? I wish to satisfy myself that my enemy is dead.'

"A scuffle ensued, in which the light was extinguished, and the supposed body rolled heavily over into the grave.

"'Oh, mother, mother! the light is out, and we're alone with the corpse in this dreadful darkness.'

"'Nonsense! how timid you are! Go back to the house, and re-light the candle.'

"'I dare not go alone.'

"'Then let me go?'

"'And leave me with him? Oh, not for worlds. Mother, mother! I hear him moving in the grave. He is going to rise and drag me down into it. Look--look! I see his eyes glaring in the dark hole. There, mother--there!'

"'Curse you for a weak fool! You make even my flesh creep.'

"'Cover it up--cover it up!' cried Alice, pushing with her hands and feet some of the loose earth into the grave. 'That ghastly face will rise and condemn us at the Last Day. It will haunt me as long as I live. Oh, 'tis terrible, terrible, to feel the stain of blood on your soul, and to know that all the waters of the great ocean could never wash it out.'

"'I will go home with you, Alice, and return and close the grave myself,' said Dinah, in a determined tone. 'If you stay here much longer, you will make me as great a coward as yourself.'

"I heard the sound of their retreating steps, and leaving my place of concealment, slowly pursued my way to the next village. Entering a small tavern, I asked for a supper and a bed. The innkeeper and his wife were both known to me, but I was so much altered by sickness that they did not recognize me. After taking a cup of tea, I retired to rest, and was so overcome by mental and bodily fatigue, that I slept soundly until noon the next day, when I breakfasted, and took a seat in the mail coach for London.

"During my journey I calmly pondered over my situation, and formed a plan for the future, future, which I lost no time in putting into practice.

"From what had fallen from the lips of Alice, I was convinced that some mystery was connected with my birth, and the only means which I could devise to fathom it, was to gain more insight into the character and private history of Robert Moncton.

"At times the thought would present itself to my mind that this man might be my father. My mother was a strange creature--a woman whose moral principles could not have ranked very high. I scarcely knew, from my own experience, whether she possessed any--at all events I determined to get a place in his office, if possible, and wait patiently until something should turn up, which might satisfy my doubts, and expose the tissue of villainy which an untoward destiny had woven around me. While at college, I had gained an extensive knowledge in the jurisprudence of my country--in which I took great delight, and which I had intended to follow as a profession; when, unfortunately, the death of Mr. Mornington rendered me an independent man. At school I had learned to write all sorts of hands, and could engross with great beauty and accuracy.

"As a man, I was personally unknown to Robert Moncton, whom I never beheld but once, and for a few minutes only, when a boy, and time and sickness had so altered me, that it was not very likely that he would recognize me again.

"Two years previous to the time of which I am now speaking, I had saved the eldest son of Mr. Moncton's head clerk from drowning, at the risk of my own life. Mr. Bassett was overwhelming in his expressions of gratitude, and as to his poor little wife, she never mentioned the circumstance with dry eyes. The boy, who was about ten years of age, was a very noble, handsome little fellow, and I often walked to their humble lodgings to see him and his good parents, who always received me with the most lively demonstrations of joy.

"To these good people I determined to apply for advice and assistance. Fortunately my application was made in a lucky moment. Mr. Bassett was about to leave your uncle's office, and he strongly recommended me to his old master, as a person well known to him; of excellent character, and who was every way competent to fill his place.

"I was accepted. You know the rest."

* * * * *

"Our friendship, dear Geoffrey," said Harrison, concluding the narrative of his life, "rendered my situation far from irksome, while it enabled me to earn a respectable living. At present, I have learned little which can throw any additional light upon my sad history. Alice Mornington still lives, and is about to become a mother. Theophilus, the dastardly author of her wrongs, is playing the lover to the beautiful Catherine Lee, who is a ward of his father's.

"From the conversation which passed between Dinah North and Mr. Moncton in your chamber, I suspect that my poor Alice is less guilty than she appears. Dinah has some deeper motive than merely obliging Robert Moncton, in wishing to make you illegitimate. I feel confident that this story has been recently got up, and is an infamous falsehood. If true, you would have heard of it before, and I advise you to leave no stone unturned to frustrate their wicked conspiracy."

"But what can I do?" said I. "I have neither money nor friends; and my uncle will take precious good care that no one in this city shall give me employment."

"Go to Sir Alexander. He expressed an interest in your situation. Tell him the story of your wrongs, and, depend upon it, he will not turn a deaf ear to your complaint. I know that he hates both father and son, and will befriend you to oppose and thwart them."

My heart instantly caught at this proposal.

"I will go!" I cried. "But I want the means."

"I can supply you with the necessary funds," said George Harrison--for I must still call him by his old name. "And my offer is not wholly disinterested. Perhaps, Geoffrey, you may be the means of reconciling your friend to his old benefactor. But this must be done cautiously. Dinah North must not know that I am alive. Her ignorance of this fact places this wicked woman in our power, and may hereafter force her to reveal what we want to know."

I promised implicit obedience to these injunctions, and thanked him warmly for his confidence and advice. His story had made a deep impression on my mind. I longed to serve him. Indeed, I had become very warmly attached to him; regarding him in the light of a beloved brother.

In a fortnight, I was able to walk abroad, and was quite impatient to undertake my Yorkshire journey. Harrison was engaged as a writer in the office of a respectable solicitor in Lincoln's Inn Fields, and we promised to correspond regularly with each other during my absence. He generously divided with me the little money he possessed, and bidding God bless and prosper my journey, bade me farewell. I mounted the York stage, and for the first time in my life, bade adieu to London and its environs.