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      "You are changed, Lucy;" said the galleyman, in a meditative tone, "and so am I; but a quiet home has reared you into loveliness; while cold, heat, and storms, have made me what I am. It was that ivy wreath of yours that made me a wandererI spent a couple of hours gathering and making it, and they promised me a flogging for idling, and so, after putting the crown on your head I set off, and here I am again after ten years, looking old enough to be your fatherbut, hark you, maidensailors are thirsty souls, and here have I been laid up these two days, without tasting a drop of any thing stronger thanha! ha!milk! Your father has plenty of stout ale, and I'm sure such a little angel as you will have the charity to bring a flagon to a poor seaman adrift."

      "Why do they call that the Golden Gate?" Fred asked.

      An hour had not elapsed since Holgrave retired to bed, before the cottage door was burst open, and Calverley with a strong body of retainers entered, and arrested him for the felony.

      "Hence, sir! away, unworthy son of the church! away for the presentwe shall soon find a means of bending your stubborn heart!""Ah! Merritt, you are the man I wantedwhen did you see father John? can you tell any thing of him?"

      There was a restless anxiety that morning, in every inhabitant of the castle, from old Luke, the steward, who was fretting and fidgetting lest the lady should consider him too old for the stewardship, to the poor varlet who fed the dogs, and the dirty nief who scoured the platters. This anxiety increased when a messenger arrived to announce that the noble party were on the road from Oxford, and might be expected in a few hours: and when at length a cloud of dust was observed in the distance, old Luke, bare headed, and followed by the retainers and domestics, went forth to greet with the accustomed homage, De Boteler and his bride.Hugh hardly thought about this at all before he answered. It was a perfectly evident proposition.

      "Yes you do.""As you like Tomonly mind they don't coop you up. To my mind, there is not a man in the parish safe;but things will not always go on so. Now, good father, we must be gone."


      Yes, sir, I will gladly do you one, she said. Shall I draw a design and see if you approve of it?


      It would be a vain task to attempt a description of what followedof the agony with which she threw herself by the bed, and kissed the cold hand and cold cheek, and upbraided herself as the cause of his sins, and sorrows, and early death; of the desolation that filled her heart as she looked on the dead, and felt that there was no one now, except the little child, with whom she dare claim affinity; of the feeling with which, on the following evening, assisted by a singularly charitable neighbour, she deposited the body of him she had loved, in an unhallowed grave, at the bottom of the garden, and went forth in the darkness of that night, with the child in her arms, to seek, as a wandering mendicant, the charity of strangers.


      "Man is but dust, and a breath may blow him away. I was born, Lady de Boteler, but to die; and there is not a morning, since I have abided in this dungeon, but, as I have watched the first rays of light stream through yonder grating, I have thought, shall my eyes behold the departing day! and, as well as a sinner may do, I prepared for my end. But, lady, are the thousands but as one man?and think you that the spirit which has gone forth"