Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 List of Illustrations
 Table of Contents
 Epoch the first
 Epoch the second
 Epoch the third
 Back Cover

Group Title: The last of the fairies
Title: The Last of the fairies
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00002241/00001
 Material Information
Title: The Last of the fairies
Physical Description: 230+ p., 1 leaf of plates : ill. ; 17 cm.
Language: English
Creator: James, G. P. R ( George Payne Rainsford ), 1801?-1860 ( Author, Primary )
Gilbert, John ( Designer )
Vizetelly, Henry, 1820-1894 ( Engraver )
Parry & Co ( Publisher )
Vizetelly Brothers & Co ( Printer )
Publisher: Parry & Co.
Place of Publication: London
Manufacturer: Vizetelly Brothers and Co.
Publication Date: 1850
Subject: Fairies   ( lcsh )
History -- Fiction -- Great Britain -- Civil War, 1642-1649   ( lcsh )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1850   ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1850
Genre: Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Statement of Responsibility: by G.P.R. James.
General Note: "With illustrations from designs by John Gilbert, engraved by Henry Vizetelly."
General Note: Text in col. decorative frames.
General Note: Date from inscription.
General Note: Engraved half title.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00002241
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002232121
oclc - 45302577
notis - ALH2511
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Half Title
        Half Title
    Title Page
        Title Page 1
        Title Page 2
    List of Illustrations
        List of Illustrations
    Table of Contents
        Table of Contents
    Epoch the first
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Chapter I
            Page 3
            Page 4
            Page 5
            Page 6
            Page 7
            Page 8
            Page 9
            Page 10
            Page 11
            Page 12
            Page 13
            Page 14
            Page 15
            Page 16
            Page 17
            Page 18
        Chapter II
            Page 19
            Page 20
            Page 21
            Page 22
            Page 23
            Page 24
            Page 25
            Page 26
    Epoch the second
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Chapter III
            Page 29
            Page 30
            Page 31
            Page 32
            Page 33
            Page 34
            Page 35
            Page 36
            Page 37
            Page 38
            Page 39
            Page 40
            Page 41
            Page 42
            Page 43
            Page 44
            Page 45
        Chapter IV
            Page 46
            Page 47
            Page 48
            Page 49
            Page 50
            Page 51
            Page 52
            Page 53
            Page 54
            Page 55
            Page 56
            Page 57
            Page 58
            Page 59
            Page 60
            Page 61
            Page 62
            Page 63
            Page 64
            Page 65
            Page 66
            Page 67
            Page 68
            Page 69
            Page 70
            Page 71
            Page 72
            Page 73
        Chapter V
            Page 74
            Page 75
            Page 76
            Page 77
            Page 78
            Page 79
            Page 80
            Page 81
            Page 82
            Page 83
            Page 84
            Page 85
            Page 86
            Page 87
            Page 88
            Page 89
        Chapter VI
            Page 90
            Page 91
            Page 92
            Page 93
            Page 94
            Page 95
            Page 96
            Page 97
            Page 98
            Page 99
            Page 100
            Page 101
            Page 102
            Page 103
            Page 104
            Page 105
            Page 106
            Page 107
            Page 108
            Page 109
            Page 110
            Page 111
            Page 112
            Page 113
        Chapter VII
            Page 114
            Page 115
            Page 116
            Page 117
            Page 118
            Page 119
            Page 120
            Page 121
            Page 122
            Page 123
            Page 124
            Page 125
            Page 126
            Page 127
            Page 128
            Page 129
            Page 130
            Page 131
            Page 132
            Page 133
            Page 134
            Page 135
        Chapter VIII
            Page 136
            Page 137
            Page 138
            Page 139
            Page 140
            Page 141
            Page 142
            Page 143
            Page 144
            Page 145
            Page 146
            Page 147
            Page 148
            Page 149
            Page 150
            Page 151
            Page 152
            Page 153
            Page 154
            Page 155
            Page 156
            Page 157
            Page 158
    Epoch the third
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Chapter IX
            Page 161
            Page 162
            Page 163
            Page 164
            Page 165
            Page 166
            Page 167
            Page 168
            Page 169
            Page 170
            Page 171
            Page 172
            Page 173
            Page 174
            Page 175
            Page 176
            Page 177
            Page 178
            Page 179
        Chapter X
            Page 180
            Page 181
            Page 182
            Page 183
            Page 184
            Page 185
            Page 186
            Page 187
            Page 188
            Page 189
            Page 190
            Page 191
            Page 192
            Page 193
            Page 194
            Page 195
            Page 196
            Page 197
        Chapter XI
            Page 198
            Page 199
            Page 200
            Page 201
            Page 202
            Page 203
            Page 204
            Page 205
            Page 206
            Page 207
            Page 208
            Page 209
        Chapter XII
            Page 210
            Page 211
            Page 212
            Page 213
            Page 214
            Page 215
            Page 216
            Page 217
            Page 218
            Page 219
            Page 220
            Page 221
            Page 222
            Page 223
            Page 224
            Page 225
            Page 226
        L' Envoye
            Page 227
            Page 228
            Page 229
            Page 230
            Page 231
            Page 232
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text



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Doctor Aldover bringing Alice Brownlow into the

S presence of her Lover Frontispiece. /

.The Fairy of the Well .. Title. .

The Battle of Worcester Page 3

A Family Group before the Battle 10

The Well of Landleigh Catle 29

4J1 Doctor Aldover and Denzil Norman 73

SDenzil Norman and Alice Brownlow at the Church
SPorch 90

I The Meeting with the Fair I

Colonel Okey surprised by John Brownlow 161

An Old Man's Christmas Story .227

Children by the Ruins of Landleigh Castle 232
// '. '; .. o F. "








V. .

,, VI .

,, VII. .

,, VIII. .

S 29

S 46

S 74

1 14
S13 .





,, X. .











rTHERE was an old house
near Worcester on the
very highest part of the
hill, which is not very
high after all. It was

not a gentleman's house, nor a farm-house, nor
a cottage. Heaven knows what it had been in
former years. It was nothing at all in A.D.1651
but a moderate sized brick building, lined with
old wainscot, with broken windows and latchless
doors, and one portion of it a great deal taller
than the other.
There were eyes in the upper room of the
tallest part of the old house; and to them was
exposed an exceedingly beautiful scene, such as
is rarely beheld, except in the vale of the Severn.
Worcester, with its walls, and gates, and
churches, and sunny fields, and pleasant places
round ; and the wide valley studded with little
knolls, and monticules covered with turf still
green, and plumed with feathery trees. It was
a pleasant and a cheerful sight,-a sort of fairy
scene; and indeed the rings left by the feet of
the Good People, in their merry moonlight
dances, attested their frequent revels in the
meadows and under the trees.
But there were other objects besides those
which Nature's hand had formed that gave
oa n had


banks of the Severn, the eyes gazing from

That high window could discern colours flaunt-
ing in the light wind, banners tossed about,
and plumes, and gay dresses, and glittering ?
Swarms; so that in that part of the landscape, IF
as a cloud or two passed over the sun, the
effect was like that of rapid light and shade
sweeping across a garden of flowers. And
merry notes were there too: the fife, and the
drum, and the clarion, rising up from below,
softened and entendered by the air and the dis-
tance. The bells of the cathedral chimed
cheerfully, and altogether it was a pleasant -
scene to look upon, and these were merry sounds
to hear.
About ten of the clock, a horseman, followed
by two or three others, spurred up from the
bank of the Severn, towards that house upon
the hill. He came gaily along at a good /K
quick canter, and his horse was a fine one, and
well caparisoned. His bearing, too, was firm
and soldier-like; but when one saw his face
B rP.P'~11V_~n~~ltnae~er it a~ I peasul5
VIVLU~~V-.-- -v~~
scll t loBnpnan hee er mrr su/d


nearer, although he could not have counted
more than five or six and thirty years, there
seemed to be traces of many cares and anxieties
upon his countenance, as well, perhaps, as a
certain degree of constitutional melancholy, not
to say gloom. It was a very grave face-very
grave indeed, yet high and noble in expression,
with a tall straight forehead, somewhat broader, I
perhaps, at the top of the temples than over 4Vr
S the brow.
Some servants came round from the back of
the house as he approached, and ran to hold his
horse and his stirrup. He sprang lightly to
the ground, and walked into the house, saying,
Take the basket from Matthews there behind
me, and bring it up. Take care that you don't
break the wine bottles, for there is but little to
be had in Worcester. The Puritans have drank
it all up in a very godly manner ;" and mount-
ing the old stairs as he spoke, he ran rather
A than walked up to the higher chamber. There
was an embrace for each of the two persons it
contained-a lady of seven or eight and twenty


/ years of age, still in her full loveliness, and a
S little girl of nine or ten, exceedingly beautiful,
and very like her mother. Their faces were N T
full of affection towards him who came; but yet 1&-i.
,there could not be a greater contrast thanbetween
':'the expression of his countenance and theirs.
Cheerful hope and glad expectation was upon h
the face of the girl and her mother, and melan-
S choly thought upon his.
Here is some breakfast for you, Lilla,
dear," he said, and for my little Kate too. I ,
S was resolved to come up for half an hour, and I
Stake it with you, for Heaven knows where our
next meal may be."
Will there be a battle to-day, father?" said
the little girl; and will the King win? Oh!
yes, I am sure the King will win."
I trust he will," replied the soldier, "if
i there is a battle, my Kate; but of that I begin
Sto doubt, for the Roundheads have a long march '
before them, and cannot get here very early." i-:'- .
Then we had better come back into the ii '
town," said the lady, looking to her husband l


, '* ^ ^'l-J T~IHE LAST OF"B
inquiringly, while two of the servants laid a

napkin in one of the broad open window-seats,
for table there was none. I should not like
Cromwell's people to cut us off."
"No, my Lilla," answered her husband,
"you must not come into the town again,
There is much confusion there; and as soon as r
the enemy appear, you had better retire with
the servants to Pershore, where you will have
speedy tidings of what follows. If we have to
stand a siege, or repel an assault, it would be
a pain and a burden to me to have all I love
pent up within those old and crumbling walls."
There was a look of remonstrance came
upon the lady's face, but her husband inter- (5
Srupted her with a smile, saying, "Come-to break-
fast! to breakfast! for I must soon get back.
What, not a chair to sit down upon! Well, we
must make the best of our campaigning;" and
Standing by the side of the window-seat, he pro-
ceeded to distribute the homely breakfast he
had brought up from Worcester; ate a small
portion, but not much, himself; and gazed with

a look of thoughtful delight upon his innocent ) aPr
child, as she seemed to partake of the meal
w ith double zest, from the rude and hasty way
in which it was served.
Perhaps five minutes had elapsed while
they were thus employed, when a quick light
foot was heard coming up the stairs, and a lad
some seventeen or eighteen years of age, richly
dressed and accoutred, with his long dark hair
flowing down over his laced collar to his shoul-
ders, entered the room in haste, exclaiming, .6
'- Lord Eustace !-My lord! Cromwell is in
sight-Hark! you can hear his trumpets "
The gentleman he addressed instantly
started to the window and looked out, while
. his young visitor, with a slight affectation
o f manhood, patted the little girl upon the 61
Shed, saying "Ah! my darling Kate, drink-
ing wine at ten in the morning. That's to
S make you a fit wife for a dashing cavalier.
S I hope your ladyship is well this morning.
You will soon see some warm work down
Below; but I trust before night we shall have
v JI

* .rw"..v. '.' .,- .
., ':--->---:JTTE LAST OF --o -!- ?
11., ., .7


S A slight cloud came over the lady's face,
itii- i< i "

e, and she was answering, with a sigh, r
-^ .______ t t .i
'iA the rest i the aoli
i. A sli cloud came over the lady's face, !

, ..A --
-- --- .
.. -,, : .. ,-. : -. .,.
"; ~ "..: i i" ,". , ', ."- "> .
.. .. .. .~~~~~~~~ ~~~~ ~~ '~. ..- ..' .'.-.",o -' -, "f .-,.,I< -4!
;< : -; :, ,... .., - ...... <. .. .. '- : .,_.. -.... .... .... -,_ .

-: ,k3 "-
so," when her husband turned round from the
window, saying, I must to horse, dear ones.
Remember, you must ride to Pershore, as soon
as you have seen them upon the ground. Come,
Denzil, we must away."
"Do you see them, Charles,-do you see
them?" asked the lady, clinging to his arm. F
Not their whole force," replied her hus-
[* band, "those trees there hide them; but I
caught a glance of steel caps through the
brake; and if you listen for a moment you will
S hear.-There! there!"
The distant sounds of a trumpet rose upon
the air; and with one brief embrace he tore
Himself away,-ran down the stairs followed by
Shis young friend,-mounted his horse, and gal- .
10 loped back to Worcester.
The lady's eyes were full of tears when she *
Sgazed forth from the window; first marking
the course of her husband towards the town,
and then turning an anxious look over the dis-
tant wooded landscape, where the forces of the
S Parliament were advancing towards the fatal
B 11

0 jar-

field of Worcester. In a few minutes she be-
S held a dark moving mass-with catches of light
S here and there upon breast-plate or steel cap-
come forth from behind one clump of trees and
'-: disappear again behind a little wood. Another
Sand another body passed, foot and horse in very
S equal numbers; but regiment after regiment,
troop after troop, till the lady's heart sunk at
the conviction of the great superiority of their
numbers; and her eyes turned to the royal
S army below.
A good deal of bustle was then observable;
Sand, by the aid of fancy, she thought she
(L v could discover her husband, and the King, j
:; and Leslie, and Middleton, and Hamilton, and
S Long and anxious was her watch, till pas-
sing in and out, now seen, now lost as before,
-' the army of the Commonwealth-growing more
-! and more distinct in all its parts as it advanced
-swept on-halted for a moment-marched
S '; forward again, and assumed its position as if
Y,. for battle, taking possession of the slope of the
I' \ . "
-.-. /(,., ,. .-. ;

C .A ... t' .. t : -.

V.^ -I
very hill on which she stood, and interposing
Between herself and the town. '-
Her heart sank a little, and she gazed down -3
upon her child; but then a look of high resolution '
came into her face, and putting her arm round
the fair delicate form of the little girl, she said, "
We will see it out, Kate; we will see it out."
Y "Oh! yes, mother, let us see it out," ,I
~ci answered the child; 'do not let us run away,
S while my father is fightingg"
f:' ( "Never," answered the lady; and there they ? j,
stood, while the servants gathered themselves i:;
together at another window, and cgazed forth
All seemed tranquil for about half an hour. '
"An occasional horseman galloped along the
line, trumpets sounded from time to time, a i
slight movement took place amongst the in-
fantry, some stragglers were seen moving about t
upon the rear of the Parliamentary army, and a
Stout heavy man, with ten or twelve other
horsemen following him, moved slowly for a
little distance up the hill. Then halting, he
B 2 13

-,. 7 __ I e .

gazed over the plain, and over the town, for a
moment or two, spoke a few words to one of
those near him, and instantly a horseman dashed
away, taking his course towards the left. A
large body of cavalry detached itself at once,
and rode along the bank of the river, a fire
of musketry began from the centre of the
S line, and a cloud of smoke spread over the
scene. It interrupted the sight sadly, but the
lady saw several large squadrons of horse put
S into a charge, and they whirled down like a V
bolt from a cross-bow against the Royalist troops
on the nearest side of the river.
From that moment all was confusion, to eyes T
S unaccustomed to seek out and judge the events of
a field of battle. Large bodies of men riding fast,
were seen through the clouds of sulphurous
I. vapour, the flashes of the musketry, the gleam -'
of waving swords, and the slow movements of .
some bands of pikemen were caught indistinctly
From time to time; but. all that the lady and
her child could gather as to the result of
7- these movements was, that the Parliamentary
- -14
C ~#
~?~fi, LPC

Army was pressing down steadily and strongly
, upon Worcester, and that the waves of battle
rolled nearer and nearer to the town.
It was a sight that made her heart sink,
and her eye ran along the course of the river, j
towards a spot where she knew that a large
body of the Royalist cavalry had been posted.
She saw them there all firm and in array upon
Sthe opposite bank, but a little further on she
saw-what they could not see, on account of a
Stick copse and a wooded hill, which screened
the operations of the enemy-two regiments of
Parliamentary horse galloping rapidly towards .
Sa ford, where the stream took a sharp turn.
SShe clasped her hands together, and pressed
Them tight., What would she have given at
that moment for wings to fly and bear her
friends intelligence of the manoeuvre she had de-
Stected and understood right well. But it was all
in vain. The enemy reached the ford, dashed in,
gained the meadows on the other side, re-formed,
and taking ground a little to the left, became
suddenly apparent to the King's cavalry.
-, r

" -r : THE LAST OF

oY I An instant movement was observable a-
Smongst the latter; two gentlemen drew out a
U' little way from the rest, gazed at the squadrons
S which had so suddenly appeared, and rode to the
k opposite extremes of their own line. A slight
/i. j I change of disposition immediately followed. X'
The right of the Royalists was somewhat ex- .
S tended, the left was brought a little forward at
a slow pace, and then there came a temporary t
V pause. The sound of trumpets was heard the
S moment after; and both parties dashed forward
Ji.ii against each other with furious speed. They
Si met in full career, while a fierce and wild hur-
""'' rah rose up into the air and reached the lady's
ears as she gazed upon the struggling mass,
now all mingled and confused. Her hands
S pressed tighter and tighter together as she saw ..
Smasterless horses break away from the line and
gallop across the plain, and knew that some one, 4
S as loved and dear to others as he whom she loved /
best was to herself, had fallen beneath the char-
gers' feet in the midst of that fierce conflict.

/iz..,ti. (They give way, mother, they give way,"
. .
'.. ...-...
1i~.l/ l~7 I

( i 5-' Ii --,b .THE FAI FIES. .-
cried the little girl, touching the lady's arm;
"the Roundheads are routed-See, they fly,
they fly! 11
S It was true. The temporary success of Mid- _
dleton and the Duke of Hamilton for an in-
stant promised to change the fate of the day.
S Cromwell's caIlry did give way, the Royalists *
\ pursued fiercely and drove them back fight-
Sing, almost to the very ford. But at that mo- ; ,
ment a small group was seen to separate itself
from the rear of the King's soldiers, and the
l lady could distinguish two or three troopers i :.
,, l supporting a gentleman upon his horse.
-G: "That looks like the Duke," she murmured; -,
"No, it mast be Middleton."
Another group detached itself, but these
were on foot-dismounted soldiers bearing a
Dead or wounded man in their arms. Then the
uncertain tide of battle turned. The Parliamen- -
tary forces rallied, charged again, the Royalists
S.' 1 were beaten back over the ground they had just f
Straversed, broken, scattered, and flying hither
Sand thither in parties of ten and twelve.

/( /' .^ / -
1 7

The lady clasped the child's hand in her
own-tight, very tight; and the little girl wept. ,i
They turned their eyes to the part of the field "
l immediately below them. A terrible change '
lJ had come over the scene. The Royalist forces T
were not to be discovered-unless, indeed, the
fragments might be distinguished in those
S small bodies of horse that were seen galloping
away over the distant fields. The troops of
S the Parliament were at the gates of Worcester. ,
S"Pardon, my lady, but it is time for you '-'
( to go," said an old servant, approaching from i'
I the other window; "the day is lost. You had ,,
S better betake yourself to Pershore, as my lord
directed. The horses are all ready."
The lady raised her eyes to heaven for an
S instant, and seemed to ask strength from
above. "No," she said at length, "we will
S hide in the wood, Isaac. I will not quit this ji
ground till I know his fate. Come, Kate, we
may help your dear father yet. God give us
courage and success!" K

-1 \,-Vl 1
L\nL1 _____________18___________ ^


IT was night-dark night. There were stars
out but no moon, and across many parts of 1.
the sky long lines of dull grey clouds were i
drawn, hiding the twinklers of the heavens.
The clocks of Worcester had struck nine, and I
the dull vibration of the great bell wasi
sounding, as if with pulses, through the heavy
feverish air. The scene around the city lay
wrapt up in shadows, while the fugitives sped /
far away from the field of their defeat, and the i
pursuers with hot spur hurried after. The
dead in their last rest lay in the meadows (4
round-three thousand as gallant gentlemen as i.:5
ever drew a sword. The wounded untended
shared the couch of the dead, and lost part of
Their own sufferings in the sense of their royal
master's disaster. Here and there was a
light upon the field, sometimes seen wander-
) ing about, sometimes stationary; and the low

creaking of rude cart-wheels could be heard
seeking for the less dangerously wounded, or
Sfor those prisoners who had not yet been taken
into the town of Worcester.
Near a low wood, broken and irregular in j .
its external form, stood two or three Parlia-
mentary musketeers, with a group of some
seven or eight prisoners, disarmed and tied.
A torch was stuck into a hole in the ground,
casting its red unwholesome glare around, over
the rough stern features of Cromwell's soldiers,
and the sad countenances of the captives, and
Sthe green branches of the trees, and the turf
dabbled with blood, and the corpses of five or
six gallant companions fallen; for the spot was
i one where a fierce and last effort at resistance
had been made.
The armed soldiers were standing, resting
on their guns; the captives were generally
seated, though some who had received wounds
S were stretched out upon the grass. Few of
them spoke, but one man, a Scotchman, in the
^ N I garb of a Royalist foot-soldier, who was upon
C ?~I,..____20

-.) ,
.... cf
t 4". "-' , -. ]-;"', , .


his feet, nearest to the musketeers, seemed
anxious to ascertain the fate reserved for them. '
He had put several questions without receiving
an answer; but, at length, one of the men,
r seemingly irritated by his pertinacity, replied
r in a loud harsh tone, "If you want to know,
what is to become of you, Scot, I will tell
you, though methinkyou, though methinks you would learn soon
enough; you are to be sold for slaves into the

The poor Scotchman hung his head, and
sat down dejected by his fellows. At the same
moment a heavy cart came grating along towards
S' them, and one of the soldiers said, "Come, get
4 up, get up; here is your conveyance."
The cart had not yet indeed become visible,
but the next instant the faint outline thereof
was described wending slowly forward, and
j there seemed two or three people with it.
The soldiers, as they looked forward, thought
they perceived a woman's garments, and in
"- ^ about a minute after, they saw a child also.
That sight was seen by another likewise, and

it told to a heart oppressed with grief and
despair, the sweet consoling tale of love and
devotion true to the last. He raised himself a
little from the grass, and the light of the torch
fell more strongly than before upon his fine
form and noble countenance. The expression
was still the same, and any close observer
could not have doubted that there was a man
of noble lineage, and of gentle breeding,
although his gay and plumed hat was cast
away, and the coat that he now wore was that
of a common foot-soldier.
Slowly the cart rolled on, but when it came
nigh, though the child still appeared, young,
and fair, and graceful, the woman's form was
no longer seen. It seemed to have dissolved
into thin air, or as if the darkness had swal-
lowed it up, even as she came forward. So
suddenly and completely did it disappear, that
one of the soldiers took two or three steps
forward to meet the cart, bending his eyes
fixedly upon the obscurity before him; and
when he reached the little group walking

----- I

S together at the horse's head, he demanded,.
sharply, "Was there not a woman with you?"
S "No," replied the carter, there has been no
woman here, unless you call this babe a woman." i
"And what does she want here?" de-
S handed the stern voice of the soldier; "this \ /'
is no place for children, or women either."
"I am seeking my father, sir," said the
sweet low voice of the little girl. I am sure
i you will help me to find my father."
The soldier gazed at her for an instant, as
the light of the torch, somewhat softened by
the distance, fell upon her fair countenance
and her rich dress; and he shook his head
with a look not altogether unfeeling, replying,
Ah, poor child! your father is not here; we !
have none of your gay gallants amongst us; i!
your ruffling cavaliers and dashing lords have
all been taken into the town; we have got
none but the poor foot-soldiers, wlio have been
led like sheep to the slaughter by those who
should know better."
"But I am sure he is here, living or dead,"


, .. - .

-,i said the little girl in reply; "one of our :
Sj servants saw him here just after the battle, and i
Si he told me where to find him; pray let me
look for him by the light of the torch;" and i
she clasped her fair small hands together with I
the gesture of earnest entreaty.
am here, my child, I am here my
Kate," cried a voice; for, although it was ruin I
to all his plans, the captive could resist no
longer; and the child darted forward unopposed,
for the soldiers had not the heart to restrain
her under the impulse of filial affection.
The poor captive tried to rise from the
ground to press her to his heart as she sprang
S towards him; but his hands were tied, and
before he could effect that purpose, the child
had cast herself upon his bosom with one arm
round his neck, covering his face with kisses.
S The stern soldiers looked on much moved; ;
but the captive was surprised to find that while
with her left arm she clung closely to him,
the right sought out the bonds upon his hands,
^ and something cold, like steel, glided down his
and soehn c
QT e'

l ---" "-i THE FAIRIES.
Swrist. The next instant the cord was severed,
I\ 0and his hands were free; and the child's mouth
pressed close to his ear, whispered, low but
clear, "There's a horse at the corner of the
wood. Mount, father, and away !"
His brain seemed to turn giddy for a
moment, and the pulsations of his heart to
stop. But the child unclasped her arm from
his neck, and whispered once more, "Away!"
It was the only chance for safety. The
concealment he had hoped for was no longer
possible. The bloody axe which had struck so
many of his noble friends was the only fate
before him; and, springing suddenly on his
feet, he darted away into the gloom.
As his tall figure disappeared, however, the
stern soldiers, with a fierce cry of indignation,
raised their muskets to their shoulders, and fired
in the direction he had taken. A shrill scream
burst from the darkness, at the very same instant
that the sound of a horse's hoofs at the full
gallop reached the spot where they stood.
He is down, he is down!" cried some of



---- -- ; --.2 AI :' 't"
;1yJ THE FAIRY. I-l- '
Q the men, rushing forward, whilst two of their
i, comrades remained with the prisoners. But
!' they found no one, though they searched
Diligently around; and still the quick beating
of the horse's hoofs was heard, growing fainter *
and fainter in the distance. When they
,IIt returned to the spot where the captives were,
they found the child lying prone upon the
S ground, pale as monumental marble; nor did
she recover from the swoon into which she had
fallen, till the prisoners had been all placed in
S the cart, and the party were about to proceed
A upon their way. The soldiers threatened and
I 0
S reproached, but they had not the heart to hurt i
her; and one of them, who was a father
C* himself, took her by the hand, and led her
( into Worcester. He said he must take her
Before the Lord General, but she besought and
Sprayed him to let her seek shelter in the house
of an old servant, and when he left her at the
Door, he said to himself, If I should be ever in
such a case, may my child do as she has done.

,+-] "' ,*^ *r ^ '7^^ ^**/ ?i''^}''^4^

_ _

~-' y \ -' L

p r
^ I I '4l X


t.7 ttC ....


kI . ,,

"J '

"How~ the hours fleet awy
Be, they dull and hieavy-footed,~
overburdened ,ith

-.,.-- ,.,.. .,
"* 1! -

0 ,
: ':" ." :;" "' ...


?~ ._ THE LAST OF L ^L ''
S sorrow-be they winged with joy and mirth-be
they even-paced and tranquil in the path of
Life, still they go, they go: and when they are

:1 gone, they diminish into a mere speck. Nine
years have passed away and it seems but a.
Span; and yet if I come to think, my hair,
i which is now white, was then just turning grey,
(- and my eyes, that are dim now, were as clear
./ as an eagle's.-But. come out of the way, lad, i
come out of the way. There's a stranger
Siding down the hill, and I have not liked the '
Sight of a stranger for many a long year."
1. Such were the words of an old man, dressed
in a black coat, with a broad-ended handker-
chief round his neck, and bearing a respectable V
Sand even reverend appearance, to a good-look- [_
ing country youth of two or three and twenty !e
Sears of age, as they stood together upon the k:
green sward beneath an old castle wall.
S Many a strong fortified house had been
besieged and ruined by the cannon of one or I
,I the other of the contending parties in the .
t Fgr'eat civil war, but the dilapidation of this

~,,; 7A U.' ..aj' ~ 4.,,P ..

S. ... ". ... *. \' ..,p .. o,:
S.. .-'l .-., THE FAIRIES.
.1 building dated from a period long anterior,
and the ivy had grown thickly over even the
fragments which had fallen from the walls,
0 marking that centuries had passed. Yet these
Swells were very thick and strong, and one
could not suppose, to look upon them, tlat
the hand of time alone had broken them as
they now appeared. It was evident, in short,
S' that some of man's desolating devices had
Overthrown the place of strength before its
S time-when, I know not-perhaps during the
, .' contentions of York and Lancaster; but how-
ever, there it stood, a ruin. The most perfect
& part of the building was the old gateway, with
its two tall machicolated towers, and guard-
room over the arch ; but yet the guard-room
and towers were both unroofed, and the wilnd
Whistled through the empty window-frames-
the voice of desolation calling to the dead.
From either side of this gateway stretched
forth walls, with other towers, surrounding
perhaps an acre and a half of ground; and
'U the court within showed many a fragment
c 31

(/ ^ *- !

Sof feudal times in the crumbling masonry
of the late keep, and the broken tracery of
S the chapel windows. A seedling ash tree
had planted itself here and there amongst
the ruins, and three tall elms in a group
stretched their wide branches over the well
in the castle court. That well had once been
Covered by an arch of richly wrought stone-
work; but some forty years before the period of
which I speak, the mortar having fallen out,
and some of the stones dropped into the water,
which was the finest, the clearest, and the best
in the whole neighbourhood, the inhabitants
of the adjacent village, who loved the well
with a degree of almost superstitious affection,
cleared away the ruined fragments from around
Sit, and left it nearly as nature had formed it,
With no covering but the branches of the three
elms of which I have spoken.
The castle well was in fact a spring of
very beautiful water which issued bountifully
from the turf in the castle court. Old hands
long gone had dug a little reservoir for the

waters of this spring about three feet deep ,
and of the same width, with a length of J
about four feet-it might be five, but I never '
measured it. The sides of this reservoir were
lined with flat stones to prevent the earth j
from falling in; and a semi-circular piece I,-
cut out of the slab at the west side, suffered
the superfluous water to flow away into a /
little conduit underneath the castle wall, and
so over the side of the hill down to the
Stream in the valley. From the distance of o,
more than a mile, people would come to fill I
the pitcher at this well; and, indeed, so lim- '
pid was the water, that although at most ::
times the smooth surface reflected the leaves i
and branches of the trees above, yet through f X
these transparent coloured images one could
see the little pebbles at the bottom as distinctly I
as if no medium but thin air had been interposed: ,
indeed, it only seemed to render them brighter, If
as if encasing them in polished crystal. All
around, the turf was short and thick; and the
elms and the well they shaded were so placed
c 2 33 /

_ZY-. .........
S as to be clearly seen through the archway of
S the great gates, by any one who was standing
,' on the castle green in front.
I have been obliged to dwell upon these facts
Particularly; for the reader must remark and
S remember them as necessary to the due under-
S. standing of this tale. It may be also as well to
Point out that the castle stood alone, on what may
S be called the step of a hill, occupying a position ;
j .about half way up the ascent, which was long but
not steep. This step was a flat piece of some
Twenty or thirty acres; and upon it, at the dis-,
tance of three or four hundred yards from the
S old castle, were built several neat cottages.
Below them again, on both sides of the road, i
S which, after crossing the castle green in its
V descent, wound gently down to the bottom of
S, the valley, appeared the village, following all the
Ssinuosities of the path, and so closely embow-
V ered in trees, that from the old gates nothing
x could be perceived but a roof or a chimney here ."'
i and there, and the tower of the church rising c
Sup from below, "

. ,...- -- .. ..," ., e. :, .
., ..., -. ./ -----.- "~ _-'% ',.

-. .. V ..-= .'. -
It was as pretty a rural scene, indeed, as
'' ever the eye fell upon; and, whether in sun-
Sshine or in shade, under the blue sky or the
""'' cloud, there was something of homely peace
F and tranquillity about it which had a tendency
; to soothe the mind of the beholder, and call
up images of a calmer and a happier kind, than
S the heart was ordinarily conversant with in
those days of strife and faction.
. i The village had fared well, too, in many re-
kV aspects. At some distance from any of the chan-
/' nels through which the tide of war had flowed,
7 few of those pertinacious heart-burnings had been
Engendered in it which had sprung up in most
S-' parts of England, from the struggle of parties
I ;. ill the civil war. The old clergyman of the

y place, it is true, had been dispossessed, and a
SPresbyterian minister occupied his place; but
.. i good Doctor Aldover was a very meek, peaceful,
and timid man, and he had made no struggle
Sto retain what the powers that were thought fit
to take away from him, having been scared
S almost out of his senses by being apprehended

S '-l -j

I '.... .. THE LAST OF
.- as a malignant, while on a visit to a neighbour- /"/
ing town, and examined by a party of Parlia- ,
-i' mentary Commissioners. He promised them
on that occasion, with all the sincerity of terror,
\' to conform as much as in him lay to their good
will and pleasure, and consequently resigned )i v;
S-'his benefice, without a word, at the very first
'i ~-1 summons. He had studied medicine early, as
>|''- a means of benefitting his parishioners; and '_
".j now, as was frequently the case with dispos-
sessed clergymen in those days, he studied the
healing art more deeply, for the purpose of
maintaining himself. He acquired skill and
reputation too, and, at the time I speak of, a
was the only physician or surgeon in the
place. It cannot be said, that, though he 9
S bore his fate so meekly, he looked at his
S Presbyterian rival at first with any great affec-
tion; but it so happened that the minister,
though somewhat starch and caustic in his
manner, was a good man and a kind, at heart;
and when he discovered all the high qualities
of his predecessor, he felt half inclined to be
'v< qk I

.v .\ ., t.. r ...

sorry at tht he had been the means of depriving
Shimn of his cure. He made sundry attempts to -/ "
win the friendship of good old Doctor Aldover,
1 which though shily viewed at first, were ren- '
dered successful in the end by various acci- /
S dental circumstances which tended to bring f .
them together; and now they would not unfre- F
; quently sit in the parlour of the one or the
Other, drinking a moderate glass of good ale, -,
and conversing learnedly of this or of that, .'
sometimes with much simple shrewdness, when
,- the topic was one with which their studies had j'
rendered them familiar, and sometimes very )
S nonsensically, when they ventured upon ground
of which they had no experience.
Such was the state of the village on the
day I speak of.
I' know not whether the poet intended it as
the most perfect picture of human felicity when
he described a man as the world forgetting,
by the world forgot," but certainly, dear Reader,
such is to many men, and to all men under
certain circumstances, a very blissful mode or
37 '


condition of life. We all know that in this
,'. great world that we inhabit, there are a .
great number of jealousies, fears, animosities,
hatreds, strifes, confusions, riots, massacres,,,
crimes-that men in the world pick each other's
pockets of their purses, their snuff-boxes, their
handkerchiefs, their reputation, their honour,
their peace ; and we all know, moreover, that
there are certain times-stormy times in the
world, party times-when the winds of factions
blow high, and the clouds of rancour gather
over the state, and men see in the fanciful
vapours, strange images of patriotism and free-
dom, and devotion and renown, which after all
S turn out shapes formed of mist, that change
with every puff of prevailing gale; we all know,
S I say, that there are such times, and that then
the devil is exceedingly busy in stirring up the
S confused caldron of human passions, and bringing 7 i
hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness to the :
Surely, at such epoths as these, a man may
well wish to live, "the world forgetting, by
--,, v ,
.. .. -.. .- -. i. ,.f '


~" "~`
i,;t! ~~
,i '' 1t: \. ,
.,- yi~

-. v C. cl


the world forgot." But it is not very often

S that he can find such a state in its completeness

as might have been done at the time I speak

of, in the village that I have mentioned. The

Presbyterian minister was at the height of his

ambition. There was nothing more for him to

have or to desire. He had disposesssed an

Episcopalian of his church and benefice, he had
sat himself down amongst a knot of his co-

religionists, to whom he could hold forth con-

tinually upon predestination, and election, and

free grace. He met with no opposition and

very little dissent from his doctrines, and he
.'. did not at all want to be disturbed in the

exercise of functions which worked so easily by

Baptists, tists, bptists, Independents, or Fifth

S Monarchy men.

/ Doctor Aldover had still greater objections

S to any interruptions of the quietude of the
j place; and he it was, to say the truth, who,

standing before the castle gate, with a youth,
the son of one of his patients, was struck with

so much terror at the sight of a stranger, and


.. .
.,' j

^ .. THE LAST OF J----- .
S hurried away so precipitately towards his own .
S house in the village.
In the meantime, the horseman whom he
had perceived coming down the hill, descended
S slowly; and it would appear that his quiet
pace was the effect, more of curiosity in regard
to the country, than of apprehension for his
horse's knees, for he stopped altogether more
than once, and seemed to gaze over the sur- K "
S rounding scene. He took no notice whatsoever
of the two who turned away at his approach; i
and, at length, he reached the step in the hill
which I have described, and drew in his rein
before the castle gates. Whether it was the
Beauty of the scene that attracted him, or some
personal interest in the spot, I cannot tell;
Sbut, after looking round him for a moment, he
dismounted, threw the heavy stirrups across I1
the saddle, and leading his horse under the
shadow of the old walls at the northern angle,
where the grass was luxuriant but somewhat
"r, rank, he left him to feed, as if there was a
Perfect understanding between man and beast, r
J___ 40___

r I ;

as to their pilgrimage together through this
S world. Then, coming round to the western side
himself, on which the declining sun was
..t beginning to shine, he seated himself in the

his chest, and fell into a fit of meditation.
Now, whether meditation always ends in a
S conviction of its own inutility, and men, before
Sit has gone on long, come to the conclusion of '
one of the best of our mocking-bird poets, that

"Thinking is nothing but a waste of thought,
And nought is everything, and everything is nought:"

or whether there be something of a retro-active '
Smesmerism in the very operation of thinking, .
which sends the thinker asleep, as potently as '
the communication of his thoughts sometimes
sends others; certain it is that reveries, 1'1
especially after a long ride, are very apt-at
least, it is so with myself-to end in a nap.
The traveller, if one might judge by his
[ d dress, which was very dusty, had come that ,
S day somewhat more than a good morning's ,
:- -I -
,oC ~ "::,::-"- ...;

-- ~~~uat~~~;

c- le in mle aandaonment o0 all imeditations.
His eyes closed, his head leaned back against
S the angle of the masonry, and his hat pressed
S off formed an indifferent pillow, while his : ;
dark brown hair escaping from beneath, refuted
without words the famous tract upon "The
S unloveliness of Lovelocks."
A In short, he was a very handsome young ;,
.'i man, of some seven or eight and twenty; and
4r: the bright glossy curls of his long abundant
Shair suited his face much better than the short
S crop of the PaMliamentary soldier, or the sleek
I straight-cut hair of the puritanical preacher.
\ He slept there undisturbed for nearly half
an hour; and whether he dreamed at all, or did /
not dream, whether his slumbers were sweet ,
S and balmy, or troubled and restless, none knew .
,A so well as his horse; for the animal, after /i
Shaving cropped the grass for about a quarter i
Sof an hour, came quietly up to his master, and
looked at him with a pensive seriousness, very v -
.......... .42 t ..

.. . i .. .

S .- -- -- -" ," ,"
-.. -. THE LAST OF .. j .
march; and his meditations, after having con- '
tinued profoundly for about five minutes, con-

.-~--.~- THE FAIRIES. --' ..
:A edifying to behold, as if he were reasoning
S/! upon the quality of sleep, or wondering what
-. the mischief his master could be about. At the
S end of the time I have mentioned, however,
the horse gave a sudden start, and a stamp
Switch his foot; and the traveller springing on
S his feet, found the sun upon the very verge of
the horizon, pouring a rich stream of purple
light straight through the great gates and over
Sthe green turf of the castle yard. ,
As was very natural with a horse, after
hi having been ridden throughout a dusty day,
ii the beast's nose was extended straight towards
... the well in the castle yard; and the young ,
gi(entleman, turning his eyes in that direction
likewise, beheld, with a strange peculiar feeling
which le could not account for, a female form
Sof exquisite beauty and grace standing on the
d opposite side of the little well, and gazing
i apparently towards the setting sun. She was
ii clothed altogether in white, and though the
SJ shadow of the trees fell over her, yet there was
I at that moment a sort of airy lustre upon her

'r 7~K~'~ THE LAST OF ___
S face and person, which spread, as it seemed,
through the atmosphere round her, catching I
even upon the rugged trunks of the elms and i
Sthe leaves immediately over her head, very -
much after the fashion of the glory round the
f4 figures of saints in pictures of the second
Sor third epoch of art. She was slight and N
small of stature; but it seemed, to the dazzled
and surprised eyes of the traveller, that never
in mortal form had he beheld so much symmetry
and grace. He could hardly believe that he
was awake; and yet everything was clear and
palpable around him: the old castle and its
S grey walls, and the green ivy, the yard, the
S chapel, the castle green, the horse which had
--c/ borne him so far. But still he almost fancied
; that he was sleeping, for the being before
him, dressed in a fashion different from that of
the day, looked so much like the creature of
some brilliant dream, that he could hardly
imagine it reality. He took a step or two
towards her; and was convinced that he was /
waking, by seeing the reflection of the same


figure in the limpid waters of the well near
Ili which she stood. The next instant, another
S sense was called upon to bear testimony to the
Strut of what his eyes avouched, for a sweet
Sand musical voice, though somewhat melancholy
Sin tone withal, pronounced three times the I
word Back!" But as he still advanced, the
figure retreated step by step before him,
S seeming to become thinner, less substantial,
more shadowy; first losing its peculiar
radiance, then becoming dimmer in outline,
and then being but faintly seen, as it entered\
the dark shadows cast by the old chapel, still
Keeping, however, its face towards him.
&5i1 He was one not easily daunted, and he l,'
exclaimed aloud, "Lady! lady! grant me one
Sword of direction, for I am not sure of my
way. At the same moment he sprang across
the uld well, bending down his eyes for a
single instant to make sure of his leap. When
hi e raised them again, the figure was gone, and
,i he stood gazing upon the chapel like one
S bewildered.
Yh 45 J 4

,- "


:IN passing from the castle to the higher
part of the village, there was a little lane be
tween two trimmed hedge-rows with gardens
. on either side, filled not only with fruit-bearing "
trees but with several broad oaks and long-armed
beeches, and here and there a poplar towering
i up and looking in the shadowy evening by no
means unlike a cypress. The hedge on the left I ,
S ended in a neat paling, defending from the en-
\ croachment of dogs and urchins a small strip
of flower-garden lying between the lane and a
moderate-sized house. As soon as you had
Passed the house, you found yourself upon a
good wide piece of broken turf, flanking the
S sandy main road, and ornamented with a row :
S of elms; and the eye could range down the
Highway between houses and gardens and I
S groups of trees and broad patches of waste .!,
'^ *-*\ 46
.. .- .-..
., .. +. ;, ..+:


\> -' *. t .:; '

S-,1 green, dotted with sundry geese gobbling the
short grass, into the more populous part of the

course was lost, just when the church came in
sight, with the wall of the church-yard extend-
ing to the edge of the road.
The house on the left of the lane-I mean
S the house with the little strip of flower-garden- .
i was both neat and picturesque, a combination K'
not frequently found. The lower story-
whether upon the consideration that land was ;.
S dear and sky was cheap-had been so con-
A i structed as to occupy considerably less space than
S the upper story, which projected on every side i
nearly a foot and a half beyond the sub-struc-
i ture, resting on massive beams, which were
supported by the walls beneath. The roof was
Thatched, but in the most perfect order and
repair, and the walls were nicely whitewashed, .
although an immense quantity of superfluous
timber, forming a sort of curious pattern
S upon the front and sides, was still distinctly
visible, giving the whole building the appear-
... '47 ,
| ,;-\.A-- 72I77T G. -
L~L~F b ~aL 16

Here lived good Doctor Aldover; and to-
.. wards the hour of sunset on the day I have
mentioned, he was sitting, as was not at all
I uncommon in those times, before his own
S door, with a table by his side, and a jug of I
ale upon it.
Close to him, hat in hand, and ready
!, to depart, was the youth with whom we have
S seen him speaking upon the green before the
i old castle; but upon the other side of the table,
seated on a settle, was the Presbyterian minis-
Ster, a thin, worn, ascetic-looking personage, of
fifty-six or fifty-seven years of age, whose some-
i. what hard features and fallen cheeks gave an ,
expression of sourness and implacability to his
countenance, except at those moments when an
: accidental smile played upon his lips, serving
r as a better interpreter to his heart.
SThe good clerical doctor dismissed the
youth with an assurance that hiis father i
,would d: very well if lie would take the medi-
ale 481 Ir
AM 40 f e
r ,C mi:k'dF

.-_ ,*, .. .~ -
%' ^LA2- ...... THE FAIRIES. ,-".- *
cines ordered him. "You see to it yourself,
SJohn Brownlow," he said; for I have a great
notion, my man, that more of the potions go
S under the bed than into the mouth, and I '11 i
: call upon him again to-norrow. I shall find
Shim out, depend upon it."
7'.'j "Then you don't think he's bewitched, L
sir? said the young man with a sly smile.
"Bewitched? befiddled! exclaimed Doc- il
tor Aldover; "no such thing, it is all nonsense
-get away with you."
: The young man retired at his bidding; but
A\i the Rev. Gideon Samson shook his head with l
a grave and doubtful expression of countenance, -"
observing, "I hope, my good and learned '
i, friend, your observation just now does not ex- *,s
0i.. tend to imply a disbelief in the actual existence lT
of witches or in the apparition of the spirits of
the dead "
Nay, Heaven forbid, reverend sir," replied .,
Doctor Aldover. "That witches have existed
; we know from the Book of books and that
., spirits have appeared and do appear is ren I..

+- 'I-- --. .- .,.y ) :. ; ) -: ..... ..-
^ ^ --*^l( /'^ a ^
^^^-^ ^*-'' -^ '*-*-i^^^^-- ^^-?^^tr.s^^-^

: ,,, .. .. **. ...... '". .- r ^

(l '. ered positively certain by direct testimony
which cannot be gainsayed; but whether these
be mere astral spirits, or really and truly the

,.. disembodied souls of departed persons, some-
i times puzzles me sorely to determine."
-:.. "Astral spirits "exclaimed Mr. Gideon
Samson. That is a mere fantastic absurdity,
S, Doctor Aldover, a mode of explaining away
facts which both Scripture, common sense, and
evidence require us to believe. I suppose your
.' sceptical coxcombs would have it that this fairy
of the castle is an astral spirit, forsooth; but I
will ever maintain that it is purely and simply
the reappearance on this earth of a person long
i dead, permitted, for some inscrutable purpose,
to revisit scenes once familiar. I suppose,
SDoctor, you do not think fit to disbelieve in
this apparition, at least, when it has been seen
S b so manly."
Heaven forbid that I should disbelieve in
S the fairy," answered Doctor Aldover meekly.
"' Have I not seen her myself, which is better
than all argument, my reverend friend?"

... I don't know that," answered Mr. Samson,
who was in a disputatious mood; there are
some modes of argument, Doctor Aldover,
which are more convincing than even the evi-
dence of our own senses.
s A sly smile came upon the worthy Doctor's
face ; but the conversation was cut short by the
. appearance of a third personage on the scene
no other, in fact, than the young stranger who
had passed a portion of the evening in sleeping
under the castle walls. He walked forward
slowly and gravely in the twilight, leading his
horse by the bri.lle, as if either weary with a
.- long ride, or busy with deep meditations; and,
as he approached the spot where Doctor Al-
d over and his complanion were sitting, he raised
his eyes and looked at them steadily, and then.,
with a graceful salutation, addressed the worthy
physician, inquiring if he could direct him to an
inn, or any place where he could obtain accom-
./ modation for his beast and himself during the-
There are few inns or taverns in this
S2 51

-, ., ..


t neighbourhood, I thank God," said Mr. Gideon
SSamson, taking the words out of Doctor Al-
S dover's mouth. "' We have not here much to do
S with lewd travellers, and no habitual revellers
Sof our own; those are evils we are free from c
at least."
The answer was certainly not civil, but
Syet the young stranger only heard it with a
smile. "There may be other travellers, my
good sir," he said, "besides those whom you
designate by so harsh a name; and I trust I am
one of them. There are travellers for business
as well as for pleasure; and they needs must
find some place of public entertainment if they '
have no friends in the part of the country
Where they may be. Such is my case at pre-
S sent, and I shall think it somewhat hard, if
with a weary beast and tired limbs of my own,
I am forced to journey many miles onward, Y
because some people might make evil uses of an
inn, were such a thing tolerated in the village."
This reply seemed somewhat to soothe the
Worthy Presbyterian, who, as has been before
-.,~j 152 F

explained, was not by nature a harsh or unkind
S man, though, as is always the case with sects
Claiming the utmost extent of free judgment,
he was somewhat intolerant of the opinions of
others. His second reply, however, though
couched in rather more courteous terms than
the first, was but little more satisfactory to the
stranger; for it only went to show him that
S there was but small chance of his obtaining any
Accommodation in a place where, for some rea-
son or another, he was determined to remain.
His face displayed the mortification which
he felt very clearly, and just as he was turning
Saway with an expression of thanks for what
little information he had obtained, good Doctor
SAldover, who had been gazing at him with
some interest, but without speaking, came to
his relief, saying, "My dwelling is a very hum-
ble one, sir, but if you can content yourself
with that, such accommodation as it can afford
is very much at your service for the night."
The young man's countenance brightened
instantly; and after some faint apologies for

, nthae y;o man cu te b
~C:Zat;- -' .C~f~) ~ t~~S)t~a537
14 C-


the trouble, et cetera, he agreed to take up his -
a bode with the Doctor, saying, All that I re-
u. ire, kind sir, is a hard bed, a crust of bread, .'K
and a glass of water." iK.
i Oh! we can do better for you than that,"
; replied the worthy old man; we can give
S you-"
,:, .,I The Doctor did not conclude the sentence
-.. as he had intended, for he stood in some awe
of his Presbyterian friend, and the catalogue of 4N7

good things which he was about to enumerate
S hung suspended on his lips. "We can give (
you," he said, a cup of as good ale as any in -,
'' the country, and a frugal supper-it may be of
, y". bread and cheese, or perhaps a rasher, and
"' though my beds are not of down, yet they are i\.-
i'", soft enough to sleep upon, especially for a ..
S weary man." W
The invitation thus given and received
seemed the signal for worthy Mr. Gideon Sam-
son's departure, and to say the truth, his going c.
S l-' did not appear at all unpleasant to Doctor Al-
/ ( dover, whose face brightened at his disappear-

; : --' '+' "---. -_ :'" '' d '-,-' .... ,--:. .' ,"Ik
:\, / .. --
G r'-,

ance. He let him be out of earshot, however,.
..: before he made any comment, talked to the
stranger about stabling his horse, talked to
Himself as to what room he should lodge him
S. in, and then, calling loudly for a personage
S named Joshua, declared repeatedly that he was F;] :
,-- very happy indeed to have the opportunity of
s showing his young guest some attention.
The stranger received his civilities calmly
'i and gravely, waited with his bridle in his hand .
S till Joshua appeared in a gardener's habit, and
then, resigning the charge of his steed to him,
walked with his host into the house, and en-
S tered a reading parlour, to which one descended "-
by a single step. When the door was closed,
however, he too began to smile; and, taking .'
;_" the Doctor's hand as he welcomed him cour-
,I teously, he said, "I rather imagine, my kind
SI.' j friend, that your hospitality is shown to one not
; ',. altogether unknown to you, although you have
forgotten him. Time has changed you much too,
but I cannot be mistaken in thinking that I
S am right in calling you Mr. Aldover." .: "

(1.i f
Si i .."-:.'. "- ,- -- ._-... .':v .- ,_. .. ,

, ./ .- ". '

--. ,--,. .--. ' I ./. ..., r

To be sure, to be sure," answered that
Sclerical physician. "I will never deny my
name: but in good sooth, young gentleman,
yours I cannot tell; and yet your face comes
backl upon my memory like a dream -I wish
Syou would say where I have seen it."
SIt matters not, my dear sir," replied the
young gentleman. You saw it last in terrible
"' times, which it were safest both for you and
ji me not to speak of."
Doctor Aldover looked all round the room
with a timid glance, as if he expected to see
\)!\ protruding from the wainscot the secret ears {
i which walls are reputed to have; and he mur-
Smured in a low voice, Very true, very true;
it is better not to talk of such things. They
\rF are a severe and suspicious people here, with
\ very rank and hasty persons amongst them.
Yr T Lord love you! my dear sir, a tavern is an
abomination in their eyes; and because the
boys and girls used to dance at the inn door,
o they called it a tabernacle for the devil, dispos-
Ssessed the landlord, and shut up the house.
> "5

I am very glad to see you, nevertheless; and
we will have-we will have a bowl of punch.
There can be no harm in that surely. I never
could discover that there was any sin in a
lemon, or the bitterness of malignancy in su-
gar, or that rum was an evil spirit except when
he got too strong for a man. We will have a
bowl of punch, I declare, but with all modera-
tion, for it is many a year since I took a ladle-
full with a-a friend."
By what free-masonry it was that he dis- f
covered the stranger to be of the same party to
which he himself had formerly belonged-
whether by the long locks of curling hair, or
by the cavalierish cut of his vest, or by the tie
of his cravat-I cannot say, but certain it is,
That good Doctor Aldover felt a moral convic-
tion that his guest had a great deal more of
the Cavalier than the Roundhead in him; and
yet, it was a sort of timid, half-frightened as-
surance, which required some sort of confirma-
Stion from his own lips. Such, however, the
I stranger did not vouchsafe to give, but merely

L A -~ ;-_~CtS~:~~SthNc' ~ -~

replied in a somewhat thoughtful tone, "Punch
S is no bad mixture, my reverend friend, when t
both compounded and drank with due discre- .
tion; and, taking this admission as confirma-
tion of the judgment he had formed, the worthy
Doctor hurried out to procure the ingredients
for the fragrant bowl, while the stranger looked
After him for a moment with a slight smile,
S and then leaned his brow upon his hands, and V
closed his eyes with the air of a man exhausted
by fatigue either of mind or body. The short
S sleep which lie had obtained under the castle
walls was all that his eves had known for two
S! whole days and nights, and he certainly still
Felt drowsy. He struggled against it, however,
for he was by no means a sleepy-headed hero;
S and when lie felt himself inclined to nod, he i
looked up and gazed round the chamber, trying
: to find some object sufficiently interesting to r
(" the eyes to keep them from closing. The as-
pect of the whole place, however, was not very
enlivening. It was a tolerable sized low-roofed
''' room, panelled with dark oak, and having on011

'-. :; ^ A.' -^ ,

Sone side of it a range of ponderous book-cases
S of the same material, filled principally with
S large folios. There is a certain degree of K
i sleepiness even in the very aspect of a great
number of big books. They weigh upon the
S'I imagination, and make the very mind feel
drowsy by anticipation; so that side of the room '
S would not do. Hel then looked to the other
but lie was almost worse off there. Every panel
was surrounded by a wreath of carved flowers, :
I; each having been, to all appearance, cut out of ',
S the very piece of wood that formed the mould-
i ing to which they were attached. They were
by no means badly executed, but yet there was a :I
certain degree of stiffness about them, a drowsy
S' immobility, which fell oppressively upon the
spirits; one would have given the world for a
Breath of air to stir them. It was worse still
; with the different carved heads with which the
r room was thickly ornamented. They all looked,
.. not alone as if they were going to sleep, but as
Sif they were sound asleep already. A grim i
lion seemed to nod at him here; a sleepy-look

ing cherub hung over another corner, as if its
eyes, according to the boys' phrase, were draw-
ing straw; and the devil himself, who was
perched up in the centre of the cornice with a
fiddle in his hand, was the very picture of
As the stranger gazed the objects became
indistinct; and leaning hi# head upon his hand
he gave himself up to the influence, rousing
himself only twice, and at length bowed his
head to his fate, and adding his other hand to
support his brow likewise, enjoyed a few mo-
ments of perfect oblivion.
Oh! where do its waters flow ? In what
happy land, where the past is forgotten, and
the future all unknown? Thirst for what he
S may in life, man will often desire no other
beverage so much as a few drops from that dark
"The goddess dipped her mortal son in Styx,
A mortal mother would on Lethe fix."

Sleep, however, is not always oblivion; and
/ although, as I have said, the young wanderer


enjoyed for a few moments that blissful immu-
nity from racking thought, it lasted no longer. '
The vision came to renew the past, to paint
the future. He was in the saddle again, but
not as he had lately ridden. There were
plumes in his hat, and steel upon his breast,
and weapons upon his side. He heard the
clang of the trumpet, and the word of command,
and the clash of the swords, and the rattle of
the musketry, and the roar of the cannon. His
horse seemed to bound beneath him, his hand
to grasp the reins, his arm to wave the bright
and trenchant blade. The enemy went down
before him, he trampled upon them as he went
on in the furious charge-nothing could resist
him, nothing stood against him; onward, on-
ward he was hurried, as if some supernatural
power gave him strength and command to
smite down everything before him. The pike,
and the sword, and the musketoon, and the
flaming mouth of the artillery, had no fears for
him; victory was upon his arm and triumph
upon his brow, and he thought but of success
61 _

and conquest. But yet he saw his fellows -
fall around him; the fiery shot told amongst
i their ranks, the keen sabre hewed them down,
S they became thinner and more thin, till at
S/ length he was left alone in the midst of the \
fight, still conquering wherever he came, still ..
,i seeing nothing stand before him. Onward,

Sonward, through the hostile ranks he dashed,
i leaving a wide space cleft like a pathway ,
S through the heart of battalions bristling with 7
Sarms. Onward, onward, from the front to the
S very rear, past their artillery, through their '
tents, till not even a straggler appeared before
S" him. Then he strove to draw in his rein, that
i he might turn again to the fight; but it was in r
-I vain he did so. The horse's jaws seemed of ,'"I
iron; and impelled by a power no human
Strength could overcome or guide, forward the
Charger went at the same headlong pace through '
-- j1 the standing corn, over the fallow field, across )
the brown moor and the high hill, down into the "
valley, through the marsh and the deep stream. ,
The forest impeded him not, the very rocks

/ ,.. -. .^.u. -' -
-. .. -- -. '

T' -
seemed to give way before hlim; his breath r.
was as free in rushing up the mountain as
S in galloping across the plain; and miles, and
:, miles, and miles, were left behind, as if the
beast had the wings of thought or hoofs of :
Sthe lightning.
The day seemed to go down, thunder-clouds

gathered upon the evening sky, the night came
Sii on: but still, in the impervious darkness, for- t
S ward rushed the steed as fresh as the morning,
as unweary as the ever-wandering sun. The 'i
rider felt exhausted, fatigued his limbs ached
Si a11n lost their strength; he felt he could not
sit his beast much longer, when, in the faint I
gc rey light of the morning, lie saw a wood and .
S an old abbey with its ruined arches and broken i
Stracery, and there seemed thin and airy figures 1
S: on the walls and at the windows beckoning hinm I;
N with shadowy hands, as if inviting him to enter.
-' The reins dropped front his hand, his heal
turned giddy, and he fell upon the green sward
-' at the foot of the trees, saying to himself, .
"Here shall I die;" but suddenly a sweet, i
._,.' .j r- ,3
'- -k
^^ ^ ^-/ t -- ^.f ^^
: ^ ^*' -'' '

voice, the voice of a young girl, cried, Denzil,
S Denzil, rise up and listen !"
SAnd starting from his slumber, the wan-
Sderer found himself still sitting in Doctor
: Aldover's library. The twilight had faded
away into night, but yet it was not dark,
for the moon had risen and was looking in
at the window. He could see every object
around him as plainly as if it were day, .
but yet he could not perceive whence that
Voice came. It was in a dream," he
Thought; but the moment after he heard it /'
again repeating, "Denzil, Denzil, wake up
and listen !"
SAm I still dreaming ?" he thought; and ,
Sto assure himself that such was not the case,
he rose from his seat, exclaiming, "Who is it
that speaks ? Where are you ?"
"Near to you, yet far from you," replied
the voice; "where you cannot come to me yet, *
Though in time you must come." ,
SWhat would you then?" cried the young :
man; what would you with me now ?"

'"1 "& "r

Come to the church at midnight," said
the voice, and you shall hear."
"Why not now?" demanded the young
man; "why not here ?"
.j "Come alone to the church at midnight,"
Repeated the voice, and wait in the nave till
you are called."
"Who bids me do so ?" demanded the
But before any answer could be given, the
door of the library opened, and good Doctor
Aldover himself appeared with a light in his
"Why you are talking to yourself, my
young friend," he said. "Yet, after so quiet a
sleep as you have had for the last half hour, I
should have thought you might have chosen
some other collocutor."
The young gentleman put his hand to his ."
S brow and remained silent for a moment or two,
while a neat maid-servant brought into the
room a large bowl of punch, together with
several plates and dishes loaded, if one might


:,.:"-"------------------ TJ^ As op, "-------------- :.(.^,

1 judge by the odour, with contents by no means '
| unpalatable. He permitted her to set them
Down upon the table, and make all those little
arrangements upon which maid-servants are so .
: fond of spending more time than enough, without '
I uttering a word in reply to the worthy Doctor's
observation; but when that was done, and the .
room once more clear, he laid his hand upon
I his host's arm, saying, "My dear sir, I was <
S not talking to myself, and there is something
that must be explained here. I was called by \
"<- my name not two minutes ago; I answered,
S and received a reply in return. All this in a
Place where I know no one-am known to no 1
Sone that I know of! Had it been a man's '
voice, I might have understood it in part at':
least; but it was a woman's tongue, and the ..
: whole is incomprehensible." .
\.1 Pooh pooh !" said Doctor Aldover, you
S have been dreaming, my good sir."
Dreaming I have been certainly," replied
the stranger; but this took place when I had ,
,: i awakened from my dream." /
, r br J. "i : *

HE FAIRIES. --.._:
A change in the vision, that is all," an-
swered the worthy clerical physician, who did
not seem to like the subject altogether; -. it
S could be nothing else. When I looked at you
Half an hour ago. your hands were moving upon
your face as if your thoughts were very busy,
Though sound asleep.-Come, let us to supper,
my good friend. Here we have got, I think, a
I. young fowl boiled with barley, and a leaf or two
of tarragon to give it good digestion, and there
S are some slices of bacon broiled to give a relish
.I to our punch; sit you down, my good sir-nay,
take an arm-chair."
The stranger did according to the bidding
Sof his entertainer, and Doctor Aldover helped
. him liberally to the dish before him; but the
young man's appetite seemed to fail, for ere he
had eaten more than two or three mouthfuls,
lie laid down his knife and fell into a deep fit
of thought.
Mr. Aldover," he said, after this had con-
Stinued for a minute or two, I cannot rest
Satisfied with this mystery. I assure you I vwaS
-___ t7

: : I Mt 2'"'-7

S awake, broad awake, and I received an injunc-
tion, from the voice that spoke to me, to go
S down to the church at midnight."
Indeed!" exclaimed Doctor Aldover with
a look of some surprise; "do you intend to go ?"
"I must have some further insight into the
case before I determine," replied the guest;
"and as this occurrence has taken place in your
house, I cannot help thinking you can give me
an explanation if you will."
Have you seen any one since your arrival
whom you know?" asked Doctor Aldover; "I
mean before you reached my garden gate; for
it seems you do know me."
S No one," replied his visitor, I met no one
of any kind, except indeed one personage who
puzzled me much, a lady in the castle-yard
standing just on the opposite side of the well.
When I sought to speak with her, she retreated
before me, and in the end seemed to vanish
away-at least, I could discover no farther trace
of her."
SThe fairy of the castle well! said Doctor

., ,. THE FAIRIES. ,

Aldover, in a low voice and in a very peculiar
tone. "What was the hour ?"
"Just as the sun was setting," replied the
young man.
"Ay, ay! just the exact hour It is very
strange how rashly some people judge. Now I
hold this to be merely an astral spirit; but good
Mr. Gideon Sampson and many of the inhabi-
tants of this village maintain stoutly that it is
the spirit of some one dead permitted to return
for the purpose, doubtless, of frightening their
friends and relations."
The guest leaned his head upon his hand
and thought, while Doctor Aldover proceeded
to discuss very learnedly the difference between
astral spirits and what he termed Hammethim,
or the spirits of the dead; and when his worthy
entertainer paused for a moment he inquired,
"Pray, when did this spirit or fairy first appear?"
"It is some years ago now," answered
Doctor Aldover; "in the worst times of a bad
age. When first the thing was talked of, we
thought it but the melancholic superstitions of
E2 69

1 30~V

S -r .
the old women of the place, for it was good
SDame Deborah Higgins who first saw the ap-
x' 0. partition as she went to draw water at the well, ,
just as the sun was setting, and left her pitcher
there and came away in a great fright. But
several have seen the fairy, as they call her,
I since, and all our doubts have vanished in
the place."
SI, t Has any effort been made to speak with '
or to follow her?" asked the stranger.
I. Oh yes !" answered Doctor Aldover ; \y,
/, one young fellow, half drunk, vowed he would
J have a dance with the fairy, and went up to the
castle for that purpose. The fairy seemed not
inclined to disappoint him, for, according to his
Story, he saw her by the well within three mi-
S nutes after lie was there, and followed her i
Si across the great court, but suddenly he received j|
I a buffet from an unseen hand which laid him at .
S full length upon the grass."
The stranger smiled. Somewhat more
Substantial than fairy favors usually are," hie
Sianswered. '10-
t .. ... ,., .,
Ji~i^ iISY IL^

*' j .i "THE FAIRIES.
Ay! I see you are an unbeliever," replied
SDoctor Aldover. I, however, believe what I i
.{ have seen, though you apparently doubt your V',C
/ own eves, for you admit that they were wit-
":: nesses of this sight." t
S, Nay, I doubt not," answered the young
gentleman; I only think it very strange. I
see no sufficient reason to suppose either that
there are not many intermediate grades of
1,\ .^ beings between God and man, or that some of
these beings may not become visible to us even N(
y on the earth. At the same time, my dear sir, /\
i I entertain no dread of them; for although
Severe man has many sins to atone for, yet the
atonement which has been made is all-sufficient,
if we have but faith therein."
SlWisely and reasonably spoken," replied
'' Doctor Aldover. I feel the same. I acknow-
\.. ledge and entertain no apprehensions whatever; :
A' but the people of the place have very different
Feelings, so much so, that you would find it very
\ difficult to persuade any of them to visit the
.f i' church, or the castle either, after night-fall."

S-Y' .^ ^ ^ :.;: -- '-'*. *.
V-^ AfV ,LI V .. .-.*
___ VV1_

1 Iam determined to do the former," re-
plied the Doctor's guest, and must use your
interest with the sexton to get the keys, which I
suppose as rector you can command at any time."
Alas my young friend, I am rector no
more," replied the Doctor; I was dispossessed
just after the battle of Worcester. Neverthe-
less, I can get you the keys easily, for they are
in the hands of one who is under some obliga-
tions to me, and I will walk down with you to
his house, though it be somewhat far off, and I
am not fond of the evening air. Let us finish
our bowl first, however, for you will need all
the courage that a stout heart and a good strong
cup can supply, to walk amidst those old aisles
and ghostly-looking monuments at midnight.
There are strange stories about that church, and
true ones I believe."
Pray, let me hear some of them," said his

guest; but Doctor Aldover said, No, no, I
never repeat them, though my good successor
in the ministry is not a little fond of spreading
them abroad, till there is scarcely a boy in the

a$ I5

village that does not go to bed with his knees
shaking, or a girl that will open her eyes for a
moment after her candle is out.-Here, let me
fill your glass."
The young man took his full share of the
stout beverage very readily, and the Doctor re-
marked, not without some satisfaction, that he
looked grave and thoughtful during the rest of
the time they remained in the house. Whe-
ther he really entertained any apprehensions
or not, however, he steadily maintained his re-
solution, and in half an hour set out with his
worthy host in search of the keys of the church.

"" l I ./i

*.I -i ,

STHERE was a nice little cottage in the green lane
i that turned off from the high road, about a hun-
dred yards before you came to the castle green.
The lane ploughed the side of the hill as with a
deep furrow, and descending rapidly, passed the
cottage itself and a farm-house on the other hand, ,
S. and then took a considerable circuit to reach
S the bank of the stream. Thence it led to the
: lower end of the village, which it accomplished .
1, by fur or five little paths stretching out like
., the fingers of an open hand. This lane avoided
;iall the turnings and windings which were taken
Sby the high road, for instead of circling round i
S i any obstruction which might come in its way in
the shape of a rise or fall in the ground, it went
straight over them all. The little cottage I
,have spoken of was about half-way between the
Castle and the stream-a neat, tidy, though

S .. .. -.- ..
"--. .. .. '" _. 2 _- --- "
^~ ~ u^-* ^ ^^ ^-- zJ1 *-^--* **N,

N-,,.... ". _. THE FAIRY. '
Slowly building, containing within itself more
Accommodation than the externals promised;
j. and though it was somewhat lonely, yet in the /
clear summer days it had a pleasant view both
of the church and the castle, and a part of the
Village, and in the winter a better view still,
I because the leaves were then off the trees. In
Sthe front, towards the lane, was a very neat par-
Slour, for the personage to whom it belonged aped i
S some of the usages of gentility, and separated ,.
N by a thick partition that which to him was
S ,1| ddrawing-room, dining-room, and library, from the
S offices, although round the latter there ran a
S. sort of trellised portico, which we, in the present
Sday, should call verandah.
.' In this parlour, on the same night during
which, for the first time in eight or nine years,
"" ,, 0t- -- ------
S Doctor Aldover consumed a bowl of punch with \
i a guest, were seated two persons of very dif-
ferent ace and appearance. We will take the one .F i
1 in the arm-chair first. He was a man of some
sixty-eight years of age, but looking a good
deal more-heavy, stout, and venerable, but i

.- " k v i '- P d. *"
._ -,.:"-- , .. : ... .. .,_ "- ,

with a dull sort of look, as if intellect, though
not altogether gone, were a little drowsy. His
face was reddish about the nose and on the
cheeks but rather pale in the intervening
Spaces; and his black eye, though not so '
sparkling as it once had been, had a good deal
of sharp cunning in it, perhaps natural, per-
haps acquired by long dealing with the world,
that great whetstone of the faculties.
On the broad capacious hearth, although
it was summer time-that is to say, the later S
summer, when evenings get somewhat cold--
were two or three lighted logs of wood, and
over them the old man bent in his arm-chair ,
with his hands outspread, as if the warm flame
cheered the icy blood of age.
Before I go farther, however, as I have
talked of a parlour and an arm-chair, and a
verandah, let me first explain what sort of room,
what sort of chair, what sort of verandah it is
that I mean. Well then, dearly beloved reader, f
the parlour was floored with brick; it was low
in the ceiling; and a great number of beams,
5 (76
.`- A "-
-l -V -
4.-i( / ) s

protruding far beyond the rest of the plasterer's
work overhead, afforded convenient positions
for driving in a nail or a screw to support a
number of small articles and some large ones,
such as hams, sides of bacon, a powder-flask,
a pouch or two of shot, besides several of those
things for which we acquire an affectionate
regard in passing from youth to age-things
which are as if they were friends to us, from
our long familiarity with them. The arm-chair,
indeed, deserved its name from having two
wooden arms, one on either side; but if ex-
amined closely, it was found to be nothing
more than a settle with apendages. The ve,
randah was a little sort of rustic portico with a I
trellis-work of rough branches, which in the
hot summer evenings afforded shade to the
old man when he thought fit to sit out and
drink his glass of ale in the free air.
The other tenant of the room, standing
behind the first, with a yard or two between
them, and phial and a cup in his hand, was no
other than the young man we have twice seen

~ L~~L, J~r~-~"'t, ,.

with Doctor Aldover, a good-looking, stout,
well-formed peasant youth of about six or seven
and twenty years of age, with nut-brown curly
hair, a good deal of hardy colour, a bright clear :
eye, and a look of shrewd and merry intel- '
S ligence. He was in the present instance in
Sthe act of persuading his father to take the .
S' medicine ordered for him by Doctor Aldover;
i i but the old man resisted stoutly.
I No, John, no,' he said I ll take no
S more of it. What's the use. John ? I 'm be- '
Switched boy there's not a doubt of it" and I
am sure old Martha Unwin did it, because I :.
took her chamber clock for rent."
SiPooh, pool], father," answered the son,
S you are not bewitched at all: Doctor Aldover i/
Says so, and he is both a divine and a :physician, \
so he must know. As to Martha, she is a very ,
good old woman, and would not hurt any one j
A for the whole world. She thought you be- k .
i switched for being so hard upon her, but she '
never bewitched you."
S "Then how came I to bring two tin tacks
,. ,. ,,,- .. , -, :,,\ -

S.' "- .. "" '".. .... ; "--"-"'
S off my stomach?" asked the old man, as if ,
: that argument were conclusive; "you saw it
S yourself."
SBecause you put half a dozen of them
between your teeth, when you were mending |.
,. the old coffer," answered his son; I saw that ''/'
i too, myself; and if six went in, only four came '
in i yfor c
South of your mouth. Come, father, take the i
Medicine: it will make you quite well, the good ,,i
SDoctor says." I,
It required much persuasion, however, before I.,
it Zi- the medicine iwas taken; and it had certainly
Siot been down three minutes when old Roger
I Brownlow, as he was called in the village, re-
Smarked in a discontented tone, I 'm no better, i
"If you go to bed, father, you soon will
S, be," replied his son; and at the end of an
,; i ,
V argument of five or ten minutes more the old iii:
A, gentleman was persuaded to follow this piece h
of good advice amid retire to rest. The domes-
tic labours of John Brownlow being thus con-
cluded, he took down his tall, plain, steeple-
I' .. .... ... ..

crowned hat from a peg on which it hung; and,
approaching a door which opened from the side
of the room within a few feet of the fire-place,
said in a low voice, "Alice, Alice, I am going
out for a while."
No answer was returned, and, after waiting
for a moment, the young man quietly mounted
the stairs and tapped at a door above. Still
all was silent, and murmuring, "how pro-
voking! she has gone out!" he returned and
seated himself in the parlour, and leaned his
head upon his hand.
S "Heaven knows when she will be back
now," he said in a murmur to himself; "and
Jane will be gone to bed before I can get out.
Then, all to-morrow I shall have no time.
Where can she be gone to now, I wonder ? she
knew I was anxious to go."
He continued in this sort of vein to con-
verse with himself, evidently not very well
satisfied with the absence of the person he S
called Alice, till, at the end of about half
an hour, some one knocked hard at the

door, and John Brownlow exclaimed sharply,
Come in !"
Before the words were spoken, however, ,
Doctor Aldover and his young companion were
in the room; and the former at once began upon
the business which brought him, saying, I
want the keys of the church, John. Has your
father gone to bed ?"
"Yes, sir," answered the young man, with
a respectful air, "he has been in bed this half
hour or more; but if he were up, I don't think
he has got the keys himself, for Alice always
keeps them now, and she's out, I don't know
"Wherever she is, she is in the right I
place," said Doctor Aldover, "and she won't
be long, I dare say; so we will wait till she
comes back, John."
I was waiting for her too, sir," said the
young man; "for Betty, the girl, has gone to
see her father at Crofton, and I did n't like to
go out and leave my old father in the house
alone for fear anything should happen, though


.. ...THE 'LAST OF ..- ..
J wanted to go out for a while very much too ;
but if you are going to stop, Doctor, till Alice
comes back, there will be no need of my re-
S rnmainig."
: --* Ah Jane Unwin, Jane Unwin!" said
.. Doctor Aldover. I know where you are going,
i.' just as well as if you told me, John; and you
are two silly young people, for your father will
never consent., I am quite sure of that. Well,
,j go along with you; it's no use trying to make
I. youth wise. Nature makes us fools, experience
whips us into scholars, and then death takes '
us just as we are getting the last lesson by .'1
heart. Go along with you, go along with you.
I will stay till Alice comes."
The young man was not slow in taking ad- .
vantage of the permission he thus received, and
/y without further ceremony or excuses, he put on
his hat again and walked out of the door which
had given admission to his two visitors.
He 's a good lad," said Doctor Aldover, as
soon as he was gone; l he 's a good lad as any
in the parish, but his father is a nasty old cur-

^^^i^^^^^^L ~ L

-. --, Y..*
'' ";THE FATRIES. -..
',- mudgeon, whose whole soul has been devoted
to scraping money together all his life. The
i r- '.,.
y::' young man is in love too, like a fool, with
a pretty little penniless thing whom his father
will never consent to his marrying; so the
poor boy is in a perilous way, as old Shakspere
Calls it. I know not what will come of it, I am
.; sure, and sometimes think it almost a sin to
l prolong the old man's life, for it is a plague to
; himself and no good to any one. It is not my
I business, indeed, and God will take him when
lie thinks fit."
.' There was a slight rustle as the old gen-
:iI tfeman spoke, and turning sharply round, as
did also his young companion, they saw coming
/,.; down the stairs, the foot of which was visible
'(.'" through the door which John Brownlow had
left open, the form of a young girl of seventeen
or eighteen years of age, which well deserved
their attention, and that of the reader also. It
had all the lightness of youth, and those graces
', which, given by nature to a very early period
of life, are but too frequently obliterated in the
,K ,., .. .
k...% .,- i. of life- e-. b. too-f
,. .-c.... +.. .... ,:_, ....... ''- i

poorer classes of society by the labours and the
toils to which poverty is exposed. In Alice
Brownlow, however, not one of those graces
had been effaced, and the perfect symmetry of
S every limb was only the more displayed by
every movement that she made. Not even the
prim and unbecoming dress of the day could in
the least conceal it, nor the plain mob-cap,
showing the smallest possible portion of the
Black, dark hair, hide or diminish the beauty of

thought it the fairest face he had ever seen, and
-while Doctor Aldover advanced and took her
hand, saying, "Ah, Alice my dear child, your
cousin told us you were out, and we have been
k waiting your return. I thought you could not
be playing truant at this hour of night."
"I have but this moment returned, sir,"
answered Alice Brownlow; and, thinking I
heard some one speaking, I came down to see
who it was, or if my uncle wanted anything."
'"He is gone to bed," said Doctor Aldover,
so John tells me; but what we want, my


dear child, are the keys of the church, which
are in your fair possession, I find. This gen-
tleman is going to see if he can find a ghost or
Sa fairy."
He must go up to the castle for the
fairy," said the beautiful girl, turning her eyes
S upon the young stranger, who then, for the
first time, perceived that those eyes were deep
blue; and, to say the truth, he gazed into
them so earnestly, that the colour came a
good deal into her cheek as she proceeded;
but I do not think he would find any
fairy there either. I have never seen one,
at least."
"Ah! you are a little sceptic," said Doctor
Aldover. "Do not let your friend, Gideon :
4 Samson, hear you, or he will put you to
S penance for your incredulity."
S The girl laughed, as if she did not much
fear such a result, but merely replying, I
will go and fetch the keys directly," she ran-
away up the stairs again, leaving one at least of
the party in wonder and admiration.
: )''


She is marvellously beautiful," he said,
as soon as he thought she was out of earshot.
JJ \ And not less beautiful than good," said
Doctor Aldover; "but there is a very cold
heart under that bright face-at least so say the
youths of the village, I know not with what
truth. She may be cold to love, but she is not
cold to charity, that I can vouch for; for she goes
about healing the wounds her uncle makes,
and they are a good many. That old man was
once the sexton here, and he has somehow
contrived to amass sufficient wealth to make
himself master of half the cottages in the
S village; but here she comes again with her
foot of light.. So here are the keys, my dear;
but you must tell us which is which, for there
seems a score of them."
Alice Brownlow smiled; I will go with
you and show you, sir," she said, "if you
like. '
He is not going now," answered the good
S Doctor, "but at an hour when even you Alice
would be afraid to go."
~ 86

Oh, no !" replied the girl, "I have no
fears at any time."
What, at midnight ?" asked the stranger.
Oh, yes! or at any time," she answered.
I do not know why people should be more
afraid at midnight than any other hour, if
they have good consciences."
"Then if you will, you shall be my guide,"
said the young gentleman somewhat eagerly;
but Doctor Aldover looked a little grave, say-
ing, It is hardly fit, I think. What will your
\ uncle say, Alice ?"
"Nothing," replied the girl, looking up
with a frank smile in Doctor Aldover's face.
He leaves me to do as I please in all things,
and he knows I do not use my liberty amiss.
Do you think I do, kind Doctor Aldover ?"
Heaven forbid!" exclaimed the old man;
but this gentleman is nearly a stranger to
me, Alice.-I beg your pardon, sir," he con-
tinued, turning to the stranger, "but I look
upon this dear girl almost as my own child."
She is perfectly safe with me," replied
__ I

K,3C i~v

the stranger, warmly; "I trust the day will
never come when the very thought of injuring
or insulting one like her could even enter into
my mind."
I am quite certain of it," said Alice Brown-
low; I never met with insult from any one yet,
and I do not think this gentleman would be
the first."
"Not for aught on earth," he answered;
but as your kind friend here is still afraid, I
see, though it may be a trespass on his time,
S why should he not come with us ?"
"That must not be, I am afraid," replied
Doctor Aldover. "My good friend Gideon is
somewhat jealous, and were he to hear that I,
his dispossessed predecessor, were visiting the
church at midnight, there is no knowing what
suspicions he might conceive. I must even
trust you, I suppose."
"Trust is always best," said the fair girl
S beside him; I have found it so, and it will be
so to the end. My cousin John will not be NI
Some for an hour or more, but if the gentleman
--'4i T

S will then come down, I will show him the way
to the church and open the doors for him.
The way back he must find himself, I fear, for
I cannot stay, and he can put the keys in the
shed by the door."
Farewell, then, for the present," said
Doctor Aldover; and thus the conversation f
ended, with the exception of a few words of very
little interest to the reader, though of more to
the young stranger.
Has your uncle let the two rooms above ?"
asked the good physician.
"Not yet," replied Alice.
Nor ever will," said Doctor Aldover; he
asks too much for them, my dear."
The young stranger thought that he should
very much like to make the worthy Doctor's
words prove false. It was a rash, bold fancy
that he took to hire those two rooms, and he
revolved the subject in his mind all the way
back, not forgetting, however, to remark every
turning of the road, that he might find his way
to the cottage again at the appointed time.
~;-c2 cses"~a 2~IT~i-------rse r


THE moon's short-lived reign was over, and
the night was dark. There were many stars
indeed in the zenith twinkling bright and
clear, but round the horizon on every side
there were heavy mists, not exactly amounting
to clouds, but which shut out all the lesser
lights of heaven. There were many trees over

.. .. .. -

\ the roadl too, so that it wa only now andl then '
-, that )rion or the Bear could be seen; ainl ti:he
stranger and Alice Brownlow walked on illst
Sin darkness. The whole world was silent
I around, except when from a great distance the
.- Iing of a dog was heard through the clear -
S still nes of the nigllt. Tltere, was a strong I '
odour in the air too, as if the flowers were
giving ,ut their perfumell more liberally to the :i'- '
School iiglt nir than to the warm and eager day;
b, lut yet there was a kind of faint sensation
crept over the frame under the overpowering f
sweetness which seemed to bratlh from the
S flowers and hru1s,-a langtuor tending to .
.- fanciful itmaginings, to which the absence of all
sight and so.tun contributed also.
S The stranger felt it gain upon himi; the
S-stories he had ltartd told and well authlntllted, '. '
C/ ame 1back to his mind, ani many a curious '.
S question isgg:std itsi lf as he w.dlk- on. To /'
say that he was superstiti'is wotiuld not le
/ correct, for, in regard to beings 1eyvnd or
it ,.aN-ve t0li ..arthi ]e b .liv.c d rati cr l ]'s tlhan '

', \ ..- r i -
,.. [ .. : -: ..-._ .../ .. '

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