the daughter of Mr. Price, and in the bitterness of his spirit he exclaimed against the folly of interfering with such people as Butler, and that he was sure that hair-brained young parson was at the bottom of it; and that he was not going to have anything to say to such enthusiastic doings.

"Whatever you mean to do, Mr. Paterson," said Mr. Price, "I know what my duty is, and I shall return to the assistance of the friends I have left at the inn."

While this passed, I was commending poor Mrs. Butler to the care of Clara, and endeavouring to explain to her how cruelly she had been treated; and beseeching her not to let her go back to her own house, cost what it might, till I had seen her again.

On our return to the inn, we found Butler storming about the house like a madman. Both doors of the den of thieves were open, and one of the thimble-men handcuffed; but the man, whether asleep or intoxicated we could not tell, was lying, his full length, on the floor,-Frederick Williams had been left to keep guard over him. We passed through to the stable-yard, and found the parson, the constable, and Jabez, in earnest discourse with another of the thimble-men. The man was pleading, as for his life, that he might go back to the town from whence his party had come that evening; for he had left his wife dying, and had it not been for his engagement with Butler he would not have left her, and he desired to see her

once more, if possible, before she departed. He promised solemnly to return in the morning to his companion who was in custody.

This man company, and many of his gambling instruments were in the constable's possession. Pity at length prevailed, and he was dismissed.

seemed the manager of the

It now seemed that nothing further could be done that night. The constable returned to the house to take charge of his prisoner, and the young parson said he would remain with him for a while; the rest of us, therefore, thought it best to walk homewards. But, as persons who are in a state of excitement find considerable difficulty in bringing themselves down into quiet feelings again, we felt disposed to continue in conversation together a little longer, and Price invited us into his house to take a little supper. Frederick preferred returning home, but Jabez and myself accepted his invitation. I called in at my own house, and finding the young people preparing for bed, I bid them not wait for me, saying nothing, however, of the scenes I had been in, lest I should unsettle my nephew's mind and make him anxious to come out with me; so, putting the key of the house into my pocket, I made my way to Mr. Price's.

During supper-time everything that had passed was minutely made known to Lucy; for what was not directly told her she gained indirectly, by questions. She made, however, not one single

comment on the scene at the Widow Paterson's, though I guessed her feelings from the expression of her eye. At length, the hour being far advanced, I rose and took my leave; Jabez rose at the same time, and, when we were out of the door, I said to him, "What say you to taking one more peep at the scene of action?"

Almost with the same silence in which I had first visited the spot with John Maxwell a few hours before, we returned towards the stableyard. As we passed under one of the little windows, whence the voice of unholy mirth had lately issued, we thought we distinguished the clear melodious voice of our young minister, as if in prayer.

"What is that?" cried Jabez, starting.

"Come on," said I.

The lamp of the stable-yard was now extinguished, but the full moon, shining out from among flickered clouds, threw its silver light on the outward open door of the little room. Against it stood the constable, leaning, with his arms folded.

"What is going on?" said I.

He made no answer; and stepping softly to the door, we saw, and Oh! what a sight, after that we had so lately witnessed in this horrid place! Stretched on the floor, but not in sleep, writhing in agony, lay the wretched thimble-man; his face of a livid blue. Beside him knelt the young

clergyman, his eyes upraised, and praying for mercy, through a Saviour's blood, on the sinful being before him. We stood till his voice died away, and, rising up, he reached a glass of water which stood on the disordered table, and administered some of it to the poor gasping man.

"What assistance can I render?" said I to myself; but before I had given an answer, even in thought, Jabez turned to me, with an appearance of strong emotion, and brushing his eyes with the back of his hand, "O, Sir," said he, "all my prejudices are conquered now; O, let us go and do likewise.”

CHAPTER XIV.

THE PASSING-BELL.

THE eager rush of Jabez into the little room where the dying man lay stretched on the floor, his handcuffs lying beside him, disturbed our young minister.

"O, dear Sir," said Jabez to him, "what can I do for you?"

I had now entered, and, taking another and more distinct view of the young man, "I see," said I, "what is the matter, I have heard of this before; a doctor must be fetched."

"Is there any near at hand?" said Mr. Jervis. "Not nearer than two miles," I replied.

"And I know his house, and am one of the fleetest runners, for my height, in Christendom," cried Jabez; " and I will go for him." So, like an arrow from a bow, the young man fled "The next thing to be done," I said,

away.

66 must

be to get a mattress, or something of the sort, to lay the poor man upon here, for he must not be carried into the house. So, making my way