scar upon his brow shone clear and white; he grasped Hugh's hand. Away! bold Hugh-his blood!' he cried, and drawing his trusty sword he raised it high. 'Twas for a moment! in the next, he breathed again, 'Oh, Hugh! brave Hugh! She is safe! Ay, by yon Sun-this Earth-this sternest Love-Trememdon's Curse shall be removed!'

Drawing his long sheath-knife, Hugh now knelt down and cut the prints each tiny step, but let the others stay. By wellknown sign a dusky gipsy girl appears with osier-plait; she weaves a frame. Hugh puts the fragments side by side. Soon I saw Somers and Hugh upon the cliff, bearing their precious freight. The followers orderly retire, and sad they looked, each man, for they all well loved their dauntless chief.

the glance

Of melancholy is a fearful gift ;

What is it but the telescope of truth,
Which strips the distance of its fantasies,

And brings life near in utter nakedness,
Making the cold reality too real?'-BYRON.

SKIMMING the Western seas, I soon was in the state cabin of the Viper, where Geraldine and Lady Beatrice were quietly conversing. I'd tried to do my best to stay the deed, but Spectres are mostly powerless when wild, mad Love is raging strong. How pale the younger looked,—she had been weeping. Geraldine was p'raps just one shade paler. Lady Beatrice lay upon her couch, her long thick hair dishevelled, and lying in wildest profusion about her, fell upon the floor. She looked so small a thing away from it, but much more lovely-so Ralph would say. As she lies reading I try to follow; it seems to be very disjointed.

'Clarendon Hotel, Westernport, Aug. 15.

'MY OWN, MY PRECIOUS BIRDIE,

'The clouds begin to pass-hurrah!-from off the dark horizon -oh, what suspense ! my warm blood chills! I dare not think! --so many letters have I written-what dark despair was mine,

to see my own-my fair one flitting from my sight, just as the cup was raised-e'en to my lips-to see it pass away, without one effort. Oh, God forbid! while soul, while nerve, while heart remained-ay, e'en one little shred! 'twas all your own!

'The clouds, so low'ring, are lifting fast. You-you have raised my hopes—my more than life! the tiny gap looms well in sight, it widens even now, it's nearer still-ay, close at hand. Soon, soon we both shall be well through; the gap will then become a breach, the breach a full horizon, with room for us to move about and sport in at our pleasure. To think! that cup of happinessraised but to be dashed away! That-oh, that I never could have - long endured! soon I must have done something most horrible. What, I dare not think! My heart is bleeding for you all, but now I will not harrow up those sacred feelings. I live to see your father and you all restored to your full rights. Dear Maude is with her aunt; she is unwell-will shortly write. She says, be not alarmed, you know her well. Geraldine must be a priceless treasure to you all just now.

'Take little luggage, send no telegrams-they only excite suspicion, everything now depends on secrecy. My poor heart bleeds to draw you into this, believe me, love, there is no other way. In one short week-by special license, too, hurrah! My heart bounds high at the bright thought. Put few things in your trunk; my yacht will soon steam in. A man shall bring your things; ask him no questions. Do not exclaim at seeing me in disguise; my beard's now black just think—and big, with bushy eyebrows to match, from Wellfitt's. We steam for Macgloom Bay direct. Assume coolness-how hard! say little-you never know your people, though I think I can trust my men. Keep a true, brave little heart. 'Twill soon be past! And then for Old Trememdon, and out upon those Villains! Your father, the Marquis, will surely listen when he finds you are my precious little wife, and I-his son! He will --he will!

'And now, my more than life- be brave!
'Ever your own, fond, fond

'RALPH OSBorne.'

I heard a stifled moan. I looked. She was in tears, kissing the signature. She whispered, 'To be so near-so very near-and yet,' she stopped, and turning to Geraldine she said, 'Let us replenish the lamp-'twill even then go out before I sleep-I kept my vigil all night long-I dared not look within-Ah, Geraldine!' she now sobbed forth, and he so near!'

And soon I saw fair Geraldine asleep, with arms of marble pallor entwined around her sad companion; but Lady Beatrice still kept her silent watch.

CHAPTER IV.

'I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,

Or else this heavy heart will burst.'-BYRON.

MAUDE TREVOSA was a girl who, when thoroughly roused to action, was long before she settled down again, but when the excitement had passed away, she then would ramble on without an object-her idle sails fluttering in the wind the while, ready for any change of weather, which, once arrived, might lash the placid waves to a storm, and urge her listless bark along.

If she regretted an idle hour or day, she said, 'I cannot make myself a shadow-what's the use?'

Give Maude a potent motive, her frame was all aglow-her fragile form started to life. Invincible, intrepid, and daring beyond her years, she was one in ten thousand. Maude was quiet now. I overheard her saying, 'Auntie is better now—I'll wander -where shall I go? I think I'll visit Bluffshire.' I left her in the train.

CHAPTER V.

'Fierce as the gloomy vultures now
To thee, old man, my deeds appear;

I read abhorrence on thy brow,

And this, too, was I born to bear.

'Tis true that, like that bird of prey,

With havoc have I marked my way.'-BYRON.

In the days I am speaking about, Undone city had a Mayor, called the Lord Mayor. He had a house in the centre of the city, called The Mansion.

In front of it I saw a man standing up, looking, oh, so pale! half-starved, and wretched, addressing a crowd. He called himself A Backaway Deluded Victim. He had bright crimson letters printed in large characters on his hat, breast, and back-B.D.V. He wore a flaming yellow coat and hat. The crimson represented blood, for that the poor B.D.V.s had been spoiled by Vampyres. The yellow denoted gold, the Vampyres having robbed the B.D.V.s as well (that's of course!)

The Lord Mayor's police told the

poor

devil to 'move on'

I think they called it-the idea! he move on!' But that jolly old buffer, the Lord Mayor, did not know what was wrong with B.D.V., but then he didn't inquire. The B.D.V. refused. Now, that was naughty; that there was no Lord Mayor's Mansion in Backaway was evident, nor police either, or probably the murder rate would not have been one in nine hundred-in other words, the highest in the known world! (Oh, Shades of Catzpore and of Fleasum, hail! Todi's apparation, hail! This, this ye knew-to yon sweet Paradise ye shipped thousands of 'jaded surplus population,' free of expense but let the poor devil tell his own tale.)

B.D.V. was telling somebody, he didn't know very well whom, that it was all very well for defrauded bondholders to urge some Council or other to get their interests looked after; "Their “interest" I mean,' said B.D.V., 'but let me tell 'em "Backaway" 'ave got no interest to give-wouldn't give it if she 'ad; but you don't care one bit for us poor devils, as you sent hout with that 'ere money o' yourn! Cum now, ain't that 'ere a trafficin'in hooman flesh an' blood?' He paused just five seconds for a reply, when the police took him to chokee, the Lord Mayor of Undone city looking on the while, for his carriage was stopped by the crowd. Yes, sir, the Lord Mayor's carriage was stopped by that poor devil of a fellow's crowd, and all about a beastly hole, unfit for cats, called 'Backaway,' and thousands of miles away! And the Queen's would have been just the same, for that crowd was dense, and excited, and angry; and when that was so in the days I'm speaking of, it was a clear case of 'look out,' I can tell you. There was nothing half so terrible in the little Earth you now inhabit as the wrath of a justly indignant crowd of the people of the Old Countree. Poor B.D.V., however, looked so dreadfully bad, I think the Queen would, in the days I'm speaking of, have stopped Her Royal Carriage, and tenderly inquired about the poor wretch-She had such a good, warm, noble heart, had that Queen, sir,-just for all the world like little Birdie's!—but the Lord Mayor did not, and B.D.V. had been scattering pamphlets about, and collecting pence to buy bread with; and he had left such a happy home before he was inveigled out to Backaway. And now his dear wife and children lay out there in their cold, cold graves, and he would have lain in his, but his soul had risen within him, and he resolved to strain every nerve so that he should but return alive to tell his tale, and expose their villany--and for this he got put into chokee.

'Too damned bad!' I overheard Nimrod Myrabolanes saying, as he witnessed it.

'What!' I mused, 'that from Nimrod! is Nimrod changed? No? then it must be too something bad!' (Spectres are not permitted to indulge.)

When the police took him up they made a grab at his pamphlets.

6

Don't you believe it,' cried B.D. V. in a hoarse, croaking, hollow voice, and threw the rest in the air; one caught my hobgoblin nose, and almost knocked me silly. I'll give you a few extracts.

'I hear voices all around crying for Vengeance-from afar, from distant lands where your deeds of villany are bitterly cursed! You shipped off thousands of hard-working Old Countree labourers with their wives and families, far away from all protection ;—climate utterly unsuited;-left a prey to misfortunes to which some have found death preferable--a fate which was from the first inevitable! The Old Countree Government, too late, placarded the walls of every village and town with warnings not to go.' (What a government, sir!too late,' he says.) 'You Vampyres took no means to relieve their starving condition! and those who remain alive to tell their sad tale, instead of being landed proprietors on their own freehold estates, as you promised them, by means of advertisements in every public journal.' (Blush, oh, Age! Oh, Daily Jabberer, look small! Hide thy diminished head! oh, Greatest Circulator !) You inveigled them into leaving happy homes! What are they now? the outcast servants of cruel half-breeds! but what is that to you?

'You would make it appear that you have fulfilled your engagements with the public this remains to be seen! Your victims have no friends of influence to advocate their deep wrongs and their cause, and show up your iniquity, for they are poor, while you remain in undisputed possession of your ill-gotten hoards! Subscriptions were obtained under false pretences. (Oh, too-confiding public!) Ye Vampyres! Ye go into bigger houses, keep more expensive establishments, and are considered models of respectability, giving to charities out of Spoliation's lucre ! You cast no thought across the seas which drown the cries of your despairing dupes, whose eyes are glazed, whose tongues are parched, and whose bodies, worn to shadows, are yet compelled to drudge in yonder pitiless and savage land! They are too heart-broken and oppressed with their terrible misfortunes to do more than curse you in their misery and cry to Heaven for Vengeance!

'Go on, ye Arch-Spoilers, if ye think ye have no hereafter! Ye Cannibals of our clime! Ye Vampyres, fastening upon the