$2.00 per Annum 'All extremes are error, the opposite of error is nu. truth but error; truth lies between the extremes." in advance. VOL. 2, No. 24.] STRATFORD, WEI'Ni SDAY, JUNE 15, 1864. [WHOLE No. 51 Select Poetry. OO ew The Hero's Grave. aaa aaa a aod BY WILLIAM ROSS WALLACE. O lay him not where waters creep Unseen and lonely through the glen-- Such graves as his should be beheld By all brave-hearted men ! O lay him where the torrent sounds Its trumpet on the mountain high, And eagle-pinions sweep his grave, When soaring round the sky! Upon his every natal day, We'll climb unto his lofty rest, And wreathe the amaranth of Fame Above his hallowed breast, The torrent's trump shall join our hymn Of glory in his honor sung ; The only shadow round shall be From wings of eagles flung. We'll sing how he in battle bent Upon our flag his closing eye, And with his last breath cried '"Tis sweet For one's dear land to die!" Then slowly from that towering grave We will descend the mountain-bars, And leave him with the laurel crown The torrent and the stars! From Chamber's Journal. LOST SIR MASSINGBERD. (Continued.) CHAPTER XX.--LOST. The morning subsequent to Sir Massingberd's visit to the Rectory was bright, but intensely cold. I was very particular about my shaving in those days, and would not have dispensed with that manly exercise upon any account; but I remember that the frost made it a difficult pro- cess. Inthe course of the ceremony, Mrs. Myrtle, "who was a very privileged person, knocked soft- ly at my door. A visit from her at such a time was unusual, but not unprecedented. I said: 'Pray, come in.' My attire was tolerably com- plete, and perhaps I was not indisposed to let people know what tremendous difficulties were entailed upon a gentleman by the possession of an obstinate beard. I was not prepared for her closing the door behind her, sinking into the nearest chair, and fanning herself, as though it had been midsummer, with her outspread fingers. Tlooked at her with a face all soap-suds and astonishment. ' My dear Mrs. Myrtle, what is the matter?' 'Qh, don't ask me, Master Peter,' cried she, although she had come for no other purpose than to be cross-questioned. 'Oh, pray don't, for it's more nor I can bear. Dearey me, if I ain't all of a twitter |' 'Nothing the matter with your master, said I, 'surely? I saw him out of the window a little while ago on the lawn, talking to one of the un- der-keepers of the Hall.' 'IT dare say you did, sir, quoth Mrs. Myrtle, with one of those aggravated anes which are generally produced by the antictpation of senna and salts. 'No, master's all well, thank Heaven.' *No bad news from Harley Street ?' exclaimed I, laying down my cazorin atremor. 'I trust Miss I mean that Mr. Marmaduke is as he should be.' 'For all that I know to the contrary, he is sir,' returned the housekeeper; 'and likewise all friends.' Mrs. Myrtle laid such an accent upon 'friends' that my mind naturally rushed to the opposite. 'You don't mean to say,' said I, that anything has happened to Sir Massingberd ?' Mrs. Myrtle had no voice to speak, but she nodded « number of times in compensation. 'Is he Deap?' asked I, very solemnly, for it was terrible to think of sudden death in connec- tion with that abandoned man. ' Wus than dead, sir,' returned the kousekeeper; 'many times wus than dead ; Heaven forgive me for saying so. Sir Massingberd is Lost.' 'Lost!' repeated 1; 'how? where? 'There is only One knows that, Master Peter ; but the Syuire is not at the Hall, that's certain ; he never returned there last night, after he had gone his rounds in the preserves. He spoke with Bradford and two more of the keepers, and bade them keep a good look-out as usual; but he did not come to the watchers in the Home Plantation. He never got so far back as that; nobody saw him since midnight. Gilmore put out his cigars and spirits as usual for him in his room; but they are untouched. The house-door was not fastened on the inside; Sir Massingberd never came in.' ; Here I heard Mr. Long calling upon the stairs ina voice very different from his customary cheer- ful tones, for Mrs, Myrtle. ; 'Mercy me, I wonder whether there's anything new!' cried she, rising with great alacrity. 'As soon as I knows it, you shall know it, Master Peter ;' with which generous promise she huf- ried from the room. After this intelligence, shaving became an -impossibility, and I hurried down a3 soon as I could into the breakfast-room. My tutor was standing at the window very thoughtfal, and though he greeted,me with his asual hilarity, it struck me that it was a little forced. 'Why, you are early this morning, Peter; and how profusely. you have illustrated yourself with cuts: it is sad to see one so young with such a shaky hand. One would think you were one of the five-bottled-men, like Sir-- like Lord Stowell. He had been about to. say,' Sir Massingberd,' I knew, and would on ordinary .oceasions not have hesitated to do so 'De perditis nil nisi bonum?' quotkh I inquir- J ingly. . * uJ _£Qh, so: you have heard of this nine hours wonder, have you?' returned my tutor.. ' Becaue our neighbor has chosen to leave home for a} little, on some. private business best known to himself, everybody will have it that he is Lost.' * But it does seem very extraordinary too,' said I, 'does it not? He has never done so before, has he? ' Not in all the years he has lived in Fairburn, returned my tutor musingly. 'And he made no preparations, I suppose, for departure, did he? Took no clothes with him ?' .' Nothing, nothing,' interrupted Mr. Long, pacing the room to and fro, with his hand to his forehead. 'But he had money, you know ;-he was eager to get thatmoney yesterday.' ' Then he would probably have hired a vehicle,' urged I; 'Sir Massingberd is not the man to use his own legs, beyond the limit, that is, of his own lands. You have heard him say that he would never be seen on the road without four horses.' Mr. Long continued his walk without reply, but TI thought I perceived that he was not ua- willing to have the subject discussed. He seemed to be eager to take as light a view cf the matter as possible, although like one who contends against his own more sombre convictions. I, on the contzary, had-that leaning tewards the gloomy and mysterions not uncommon with young persons, and both imagined the worst, and endeavored to picture it. ' He went out after the poachers, did he not ?" said J. 'Yes, as usual,' replied my tutor; 'he has done it before, scores of times.' 'The pitcher goes often to the well, but is broken at last, returned I. 'I should not be surprised if the wretched man has Veen murdered by some of those against whom he waged such unceasing war.' ' Then if so, he must have been shot, Peter,' returned the rector hastily: ' without firearms, it would have been hard to dispose of the gigan- tic baronet, armed as he doubtless was with his lifepreserver. Now no gun has been heard to go off by any one, although it was thought that. Sir Massingberd expected some raid to be made last night, by the gipsies or others : at all events, he seemed more alert than usual, Oliver tells me.' ' The gipsies! My heart sunk within me, as I thought of Rachael Liversedge consumed with the wrongs of her 'little sister;) and of the young man, relative of that unhappy Carew whose life had been sworn away through the Squire's machinations. I had seen nothing of them since my memorable interview, but it was like enough that the tribe were yet in the neigh- borhood. True, they had waited so long for vengeance, that it was not probable they should have set about it at this time; but if Sir Mas- Singberd had really come across them alone, while they were committing a depredation, vio- lence might easily enough have ensued ; and if violence, murder. I was very glad that Mrs. Myrtle came in at this juncture with the eggs and buttered toast, and cou.cealed my embarrass- ment. 'No news, sir,' said she lugubriously, as she placed the delicasies upon the table. 'The last words were: ' Nothing has been heard of him.'" The housekeeper had established a system of communication by help of her kitchen-maid and the stable-lad at the Hall, whereby she received bulletins, every quarter of an hour or so, with respect to Sir Massingberd's mysterious disap- pearance. 'Well, no news is good news, you know,' re- sponded Mr. Long gaily. 'Weshould always look upon the bright side of things, Mrs. Myrtle.' 'Yes, sir; but when a thing ain't got a bright side,' remarked the housekeeper, shaking her head. 'Why, it's dreadful now he's Lost; and it would be dreadful even if, after all, he was al' 'Hush, hush, Mrs. Myrtle; you don't know but you may be speaking of a poor soul that is gone to his account. Sir Massingberd is doubt- less a bad man; but let us not call it dreadful if he should be permittzd to return among us, and have some time yet, it may be, to repent in! 'Then you think he's dead and gone, do you, sir? Well, that's what I think, and that's what Patty thinks too, and she's a very reasonable girl. 'Them ravens,' says she to me, 'didn't come to that church-tower for nothing ;' and though, of course, I told her to hold her tongue, and not talk folly like that, there was a good deal. in what she said. Why, we kave not had ravens here since Sir Wentworth came to his 'awful end in London; there was a mystery about that too, wasn't there, sir? Lawk-a-mercy! Mr. Meredith, you gave me quite a turn.' I had only said ' Look there!' and pointed to the window, through which Gilmore and the head-keeper were seen approaching the Rectory, and engaged in close conversation. 'Til go with Patty, and let them in, quoth Mrs. Myrtle, unconsciously betraying that she was unequal to opening the door alone, in such anemergency. It is probable that, when it was opened, the incomers and she had a great deal to talk about, for they were not ushered into the breakfast-room for many minutes, and after the yery moderate meal which sufficed us both upon the occasion had long been finished. The butler and Oliver Bradford were by no means good friends, and it must haye been someth ng porten- tous indeed which brought them to the Rectory together. .It was, in fact, their very rivalry which had produced the double visit. Each conceived himself to be the superior minister of the absent potentate, and called upon, by that position, to act in his master's behalf, aud give notice to. neighboring powers--such as the par- son--of_ the event that had paralysed affairs at the Hall... It seemed only natural (as he himself Subsequently expressed it) to Oliver Bradford, who had been servant--man and boy--to the Heath family for nearly. sixty .years, that he should be. the spokesman on an occasion such as this, and sleeking his scanty white hairs over his forehead with the palm of his hand, and pas- sing the back of it across his mouth, he com- -menced as follows: _. 'Muster Long, I make bold to come over here, haying been upon the property going on for three-score-years-and-ten'---- ; ' As outdoor servant,' interrupted Mr. Gilmore hseverely ; 'but not.as confidential in any way. | Mr. Long, this old man insisted upon accompany- ing me in the performance of my duty, and I have humored him' i 'You'vye what? cried the ancient. keeper; No, no; you never did that to Oliver Bradford. It wasn't worth your while. I come about my master's business as a matter of right. Area » you've humored me, you oily knave, have you? |B few years of truckling, and helping the devil's hand, and feathering your own nest pretty com- fortably, to be weighed against' a lifetime of honest service? Let Mr. Long here decide, 'Look here, men,' quoth my tutor; 'it is no use quarrelling abont precedence. You are both in the same service, and owe the same duty to your master. I know what has happened in a general way,and require no long story from either of you. But you have doubtless each of you some information concerning this matter pecu- liar to your own time. 'Twelve hours have not elapsed since your master's disappearance--a very short time surely to set it down certainly to any fatal accident.' 'He was as regular in his rounds as clock- work,' interposed the old keeper, shaking his head; 'he would never have left the Home Spinny unvisited last night, if life had been in him.' ' And if he had meant to leave Fairburn of his own head,' added the butler, ' he would have come back for his brandy before he started: for all his hearty look, Sir Massingberd could not get on long without that ; and he would not have taken Grimjaw out with him neither.' 'Oh, the dog was with him, was it?' said my tutor musing, 'It was not in the house, sir,' replied Gilmore, 'after Sir Massingberd had left. I went to make the fire in his sitting-room, and I noticed that the creature was neither on the hearthrug, nor -under the sofa, as is rsually the case. I don't know when I have known the dog go out with him o'nights before. When I went to open the front door as usual this morning, there was Grimjaw, nigh frozen to death.' 'Your master had made no sort of preparation, so far as you know, for his own departure any- where?' 'None whatever. I set out his cigars for him, and I noticed that he had only put two in his case, a sure sign that he meant to return soon. He had no great-coat, although it was bitter cold.' 'Was he armed in any way ?' 'No, sir; that is to say, he had his life-pre- server, of course, but no gun or pistol.' 'Had he any sum of money, or valuable of any kind about him, Gilmore ?' 'T don't think that is at all likely,' replied the butler grinning. 'We hayn't seen money at the Hall this many a day. As for valuables, Sir Massingberd had his big gold chain on, with a silver watch at the end of it, borrowed from me years ago, and my property.' It was reinarkable how this ordinary cautious and discreet person was changed in manner, as though he was well assured that he would never more have a master over him. Both Mr. Long and myself observed this. 'What time was your master usually accus- tomed to return home from his rounds in the preserves ?" 7 'I did not sit up for him, in general,' returned Gilmore; 'but when I have chanced to be awake, and to hear him come in, it was never later than three o'clock. His ordinary time was about half-past twelve, but it depended on what time he started. He left the Hall last night at about ten, and should therefore have returned a little after midnight. I never set eyes on him since nine o'clock, when he was in his own sitting- room reading.' 'And when did you see him last, Bradford ?" 'When did I see Sir Massingberd Heath?' re- plied the old keeper, who had been chafing with impatience throughout his rival's evidence-- 'well, I see'd him last nine hourse ago, at nearly twelve o'clock at night. I was on watch in the Old Plantation, and he came upon me sudden, as usual, with his long quick stride.' 'Was there anything at all irregular about his manner or appearance; anything in the least degree different from what you always saw upon these occasions ?' 'Nothing whatever, sir. Look you, I knew my master well.' (He had already begun to talk of him in the past tense!) 'I could tell at a gl»nce when he was put out more than usual, or when he had anything out of ordinary in hand ; he never swore, saving ) our reverence's prese.ice, what you may call freely then. He might have knocked one down, likely enough, if you gave him the least cross, but he was not flush of his oaths. Now, I never heerd him in better fettle in that respect than he was last night. He cus- sed the lad Jem Meyrick, who had come up to me away from Davit's Copse for a light to his pipe ; and he cussed me too, for giving it him, up hill and down dale; and in particular he cussed Grimjaw for being so old and slow that he couldn't keep up with him. Sir Massingberd never waited for him, of course; but after he'd been with us a few minutes, the old dog came up puffin' and wheezin'; and when the Squire left us, it followed him, as well as it could, but with the distance getting greater between them at every. step. | I watched thm, for the moon made it almost as light as day, going straight for the Wolsey Oak, which was the direct way for the Home Spinney ; and that was where Sir Massingberd meant to go last night, although he never got there, or leastways the watcher never saw him.' 'Have you any reason to believe, keeper, that there were poachers in any part of the preserves last night?' 'No, sir, replied Oliver positively. 'On the contrary, I knows there wasn't, although Sir Massingberd was as suspicious of them as usual, or more so. Why, with Jack Larrup ard Dick Swivel both in jail, and all the Larchers sent out of the parish, and Squat and Burchall at sea, where was they to come from? ; 2 _ *Sir Massingberd must have had many ene- 'mies ? mused my tutor. j _ 'Ay, indeed, sir,' replied old Oliver, pursing his lips: 'he held his own with the strong hand ; so strong, however, as no man would contend | against bim. "IfSir Massingberd has been killed, 'Mr. Long, it was not in fair fight; he was too much feared for that.' | -* There have been a gang of gipsies about the Bet this long time, have there not ? quoth my tutor. - 'There have, sir; but don't' you think of gip- having anything todo with oneanother. They're feeble feckless bodies at the best. They ain't even good poachers, although my master always bid us beware of them. They would no more have ventured to meddle with the squire, than a flock of linnets would attack a hawk; that's certain.' My tutor had been setting down on paper brief notes of his conversation with these two men ; but he now put the writing away from him, and inquired what steps, in their judgdment, ought to be taken in the matter, and when? 'You know your master better than I. If he chanced to come back this afiernoon, or to-mor- row, or next day, from any expedition he may have chosen to undertake, would he not be much annoyed at any hxe-and-cry having been made after him ?' 'That he just would,' observed the keeper with emphasis. f . 'I would not have been the man to make the fuss,' remarked' the butler sardonically, 'for more money than he has paid me these ten years' 'In a word, observed my tutor, 'you are both come here to shift the responsibility of a public search from your own shoulders to mine. Very good. LIacceptit. Let sufficient hands be pro- cured at once, Bradford, to search the Chase and grounds, and drag the waters. And you, Gil- more, must accompany me, while I set seals on such rooms as may seem necessary up at the Hall.' The butler was for moving away on the in- stant with a ' Very well, sir,' but Mr. Long ad- ded: 'Please to wait in Mrs. Myrtle's parlour for me. We must go together' 'I don't like the look of that man Gilmore at all, sir,' observed I, when the two had left the room. 'No, nor I, Peter,' returned my tutor senten- tiously, as he set about collecting tapes and seal- ing wax; 'I am afraid he is a rogue in grain.' Now, that was not by any means, or rather was very far short of what I meant to imply; what I bad had almost upon my burning lips was: 'Don't you think he has murdered Sir Massingberd ?' But the moment had gone by for putting the question, even if Mr. Long had not begun to whistle--a sure sign with him that he did not wish to speak upon the matter any fur- ther, just at present. CHAPTER XXI.--THE STONE GARDEN. When Mr. Long took his departure with Gil- more, he did not ask.me to accompany him, and assist in an undertaking which was likely to be somewhat laborious. Perhaps he wished that if the baronet did return in a fury, that he alone should bear the brunt cfit. Perhaps he thought there might be things at the Hall I had better not see, or perhaps he wished to observe the but- ler's behaviour at leasure. I think, however, he could scarcely have expected me to stay at home with my books, while such doings as he had directed were on the point of taking place.-- Euripides was doubtless in his day a sensation dramatist, but the atrocities of Medea could noi enchaii me, with so much dreadful mystery afvo: in my immediate neighborhood. Her departure through the air in a chariot drawn by winged dragons, was indeed a striking circumstance ; but how much more wonderful was the disay- pearance of Sir Massingberd, who had departed no man knew how! The news had spread like wild-fire through the village. Numbers of country-folk were hang- ing about the great gates of the avenue, drink- ing in the imaginary information of the lodge keeper; but they did not venture to enter upon the forbidden' ground. The universal beli f among them was, { found, that their puissant lord would soon reveal himself. Doubting Cas- tle, it was true, was for the present without its master; but it was too much to expect that he would not return to it. The whole community resembled prisoners in that fortress, who, al though temporarily relieved of the tyrant's pre- sence, had little hope but that he was ouly gone forth upon a ramble, and would presently return with renewed zest for human flesh. The general consternation, however, was extreme, and such "8 would probably not have been excited by the sudden and unexplained removal of a far better man. The rumor had already got abroad thai there was to be an immediate search in the park, select such persons as he chose to assist in the same. There were innumerable volunteers foi this undertaking, principally on account of the excessive attraction of the work itself, which promised some ghastly revelation; and second- arily, for the mere sake of getting into Fairburn Chase at all--a demesne as totally unknown to the majority of those present as the Libyan Desert. The elders indeed remembered the time when a public footpath ran right through the Chase, 'close by the Heronry, and away under the Wolsey Oak, ard so through Davit's Copse, into the highroad to Crittenden,' said one, 'whereby a mile and a half was wont to be saved.' 'Ay, or two mile,' quoth another; 'and Lawyer Moth always said as though the path was ours by right, until Sir Massingberd got his son made a king's clerk in London, which shut his moutit up and the path at the same time.' 'Ay,' said a third mysteriously, 'and it ain't too late to try the matter again, in case the pro- perty has got into other hands. This remark brought back at once the imme- diate cause of their assembling together, and 1 began to be made the victim of cross-examina- tion. To avoid being compelled to give my own opinion (which I had already begun to think a slander) upon the matterin hand, I took my leave as quietly as could be, and escaped, whither they dared not follow me, through: the griffin-guarded gates. All within was, as usual, silent and de- serted. A few leaves were still left to flutter "down in eddies from the'trees, or hop and rustle onthe frosty ground, bat their scarcity looked | more mournful than utter baréness would have Gone. It. was now the saddest time of the year; the bleak east wind went wailing overhead ; and underneath, the soil was black with frost. In- ) stead of pursuing the avenue to the front door of. che Hall, where as it seemed, I was not want- ed, I took a foot-track to the left; which I knew led to that bowling-green whither I had been san ae. inyited by Sir Massingberd, although Thad not taken advantage of his rare courtesy. If he did now appear, 'no matter in what state of 'sies and this here matter of Sir Massingberd as |~ 'Mental irritation, he cold scarcely quarrel with e for doing the very. thing he had asked me to. 0. Had I known, however, the character of the place in which I found myself, [should have reserved my visit for a less eerie and mysterious | occasion, The time of year, itis true, had no unfayor- able influence upon the scene that presented ite self, for all was clothed in garments of thickest green, Vast walls of yew shut in on every side "a lawn of perfect smoothness; everything pros claimed itself to belong to that portion of the Hall property which was 'kept up' by subsidy from without. The quaint oak-seats, though old, were in good repair ;* the yew-hedges clip- ped to a marvel. Still nothing could exceed the sombre and funeral aspect of the spot. It seemed impossible that such a sober game ag bowls could ever have been played there, or jest and laughter broken that awful stillness. The southern yew-screen was in a crescent form, at the ends of which were openings unseen from within the enclosed space. Passing through ong of these, I came upon what was called the Stone Garden. It took its name from four stone tere races, from 'the highest of which I knew that there mustbe a very extensive view. This space was likewise covered with yew-trees, clipped and cut in eveiy conceivable form, afier the vile taste of the seventeenth century. There wag something weird in the aspect of those towering' Kings and Queens--easily recognisabie,however, for what they were intended--and of those maidg of Honor. with their gigantic ruffs and farthin= gules." Ons was almost tempted to imagine that they had beeu human once, and been turned into yew-trees for their sins. The whole area wag black with them; and a sense of positive op- pression, notwithstanding the eager air which caught me shazply whenever I lost the shelter of one of these ungainly forms, led me on to the top terrace, where one could breathe freely, and have something else than yews to look upon, Truly, from thence the scene was wide and fair. I stood at that extremity of the pleasure grounds most remote from the Hall, and with my back toit. Before me lay a solitary tract of wooded park. Thickly interspersed with planted knolls and coppices. Immediately be~ neath me was the thicket called the Home Spin« ney, the favorite haunt of hare and pheasan and the spot in all-the Chase most cherished by Sir Massingberd. He would have resented @ burglary, I do believe, with less of fury than any tresspass upon that sacred ground. Beyond the Spinney, and standing by itself far removed from 'ny other tree, was the famous Wolsey Oak. Why called so, I have not the least idea, for it had the reputation of being a vast deal older than the days of the famous Cardinal, Many a summer had it seen-- 'When the monk was fat, And issuing shorn and sleek, Would twist his girdle tight, and pat The girls upon the cheek ; Ere yet, in scorn of Peter's Pence, And numbered bead and shrift, Bluff Harry broke into the spence, And turned the cowls adrift. Yet still was it said to be as whole and sound asa bell. It was calculated to measure over fourteen yards in circumference, and that for though it had lost some of its upper brances, still far exceed that of any of its compeers. Beyond this tree, but at another great interval, was the wood know as the Old Plantation, where Oliver Bradford had last seen his master alive. looking down then upon the very rout which Sir Massingberd had been seen to commence but which he had never ended. Jt was to the Home Spinney he had been apparently bound when Something--none knew what--had chang- ed his purpose. He would probably have pass- ed through it, and come up the winding path' yonder to the spot where [ now stood; it wag. the nearest way home for him, Perhaps he had done 30, although it was unlikely since the watcher had "ot seen him. Perhaps those very yews behind me had concealed his murderers, shut in by those unechoiug walls of living green no cry for aid could have been heard, even if } Sir Massingberd had been the man to cull for it: he would most certainly nev:r ask for mercy.-- But, hark! what was that sound that froze the _ current of my blood, and set my heart beating * and fluttering like the wings of a prisoned bird © against its cage? Was it a strangled ery for 'Hel!' repeated once, twice, thrice, or was it. the wintry wind clanging and grinding the aaked branches of the Spinney? A voice had | terrified me in Fairburn Chase once before, which -- had turned out to be no mere fancy; but there was this horror about this present sound, that I seemed to dimly recognize it. It was the voice of Sir Massingberd Heath, with an awfu! change : in it, as if a powerful hand were tightening up- on his throat. It seemed, as [ have Said, to © come from the direction of the copse béneath, and yet I determined to descend into it rather . than again thread the mazes of those melancholy yews. The idea of my assistance being really vequired, never entered into my thoughts; what [ wanted was to escape from this solitude, peo- | pled with unearthly cries, and regain the com+: panionship of my fellow-creatures. How [ re-~ gretted having left the society of those honest folk outside the gates! Toremain where [ was was impossible; [ should have gone mad. For. tunately, the Spinney was well-nigh leafless. » and a bright but wintry sun penetrated it com-> pletely. I fled over its withered and frost- ed leaves, lookicg neither to the left nor right till I leaped tne deep ditch that formed the southern boundary, and found myself in the* open; then I stopped indeed quite short, for be~ fore me, not ten paces from the Spinney, lay the body of Grimjaw. 1t was still warm, but life~ less. There was no marks of violence about, him; the struggle to extricate himself from the ditch, it is probable, had cost the wretched creat ture his little remaining: vitality, weakened aa he must have doubtless heen by his previotis, night's lodging "on the cold stone steps. But how had he come hither, who never moved any- where out of doors except with Sif'M asain chev 'or Gilmore? and"w ither, led perhaps by some? mysterious instinet, was he goiug when Death had overtaken him--an easy task--and- glazed thatsolitarr eye, which had witnessed so much pris was still 4 mystery to man? ona ' | 'Was it possible that he had perished in 'voring: to obey his master's oe for aid oka terrible 'Help, help!' which rang Gi lity cass port tis go as I stood in the Stone Garden--ond ie rings, through half a Century, in. them (To be Continued.), caneeinncummenteromcen mannan zamena, eS a | | many feet from its base; while its height, al- -- I wag ~