the party began scooping out the sand from beneath them, the rest removed the earth thus thrown up to a greater distance; and in this manner a passage or tunnelled-way was rapidly formed completely under the wall of the house, which in that country is seldom far below the surface, and into the hall inside. So light and sandy is the soil there, that the process described seldom occupies more than a quarter of an hour with active hands and a short pick or Dutch hoe. The smaller of the party then crept through the sandy tunnel into the house, and, unbolting the door, admitted his companions. Their first precaution was to fling wide open all the principal doors of the house, so as to facilitate escape in any direction in the event of a surprise; the next step was to extinguish all the lamps save one, as they could see plainly when white men could not. The one lamp left untouched was in the sleeping room of the little Alice, near which Kaloo Rajah or Denis-for it was hestationed himself and directed proceedings in dumb show. The plate-chest was removed from the bedside of the judge, and soon emptied of its contents; his jewel-case shared the same fate, as did the gold watch and pair of pistols from beneath his pillow. Denis then with his own hands placed under the sleeping man's head, where those pistols had been, the lash which had disgraced him months before and made him robber and highwayman, and which he had procured somehow for this purpose. Some valuable gems were next removed, and then began the work of destruction, for Denis came not to rob so much as to be revenged; the plunder was the reward of his associates.

The party commenced slashing the damask-covered couches, ottomans, and chairs with their kreases: ripping the silk-curtains of the beds, pianos, and book-cases, and cutting into shreds the many valuable pictures on the walls. Ink-bottles were emptied on the satin - wood tables; the piano was floated with wine; the greater part of the valuable library was torn and flung into the river, whilst kreases were stuck through the best clothes

in the judge's wardrobe, previous to sending them after

the books.

This done, all retired as silently as they came save one. Denis still lingered near the child's room. He looked in, and stepping carefully over the nurse who lay sleeping across the doorway, approached the bed where the young Alice slumbered. To bend over her, to kiss her forehead, to remove from her snowy throat the tiny string of corals, to replace it with one of pearls richly set in gold, was the work of a few seconds, for morning was drawing near. Still he could not tear himself away; he drew towards the door, then back to the child, and once more lingered by its side; turning round, he half started to see a figure at the door: it was Lenna, who, anxious for his safety, had not been far away all that night, and now motioned to him to begone. But first she too must see and kiss the sleeper, and then both left, fastening the door behind them.

Outside Denis paused: he had still a task to perform; all was not yet finished. He passed on to the stables, and with his small sharp knife removed every hair from the flowing manes and tails of the valuable Arabs: one only, the favourite Harremjuddah, was spared. Then giving a last parting glance at the noble animal, Denis joined Lenna outside, and was far away before the cock crew.

It were needless to relate how enraged and astonished was the great legal functionary of Ceylon to find himself thus mocked and spited. Rewards to an enormous amount were offered for the discovery of the offenders, and although many were placed in quest none succeeded. Even had Denis been apprehended, there could have been no proof against him, for the little coral necklace was placed far out of the reach of police peons, and that was the only spoil he touched. For a long time the affair was the general talk of the island; and the romance of the pearl necklace on the child, and the lash under the pillow, added not a little zest to the story, whilst at the same time pointing to Denis as the hero of the tale.

Some few years passed away. The Kaloo Rajah was still at large, still feared and courted by wayfarers, and shunned by the police. The chief-justice of the island had fulfilled his term of service, and with his family went on ship-board to sail for England. Boats were passing thickly to and fro between the ship and the shore; the deck was lumbered up with stores and passengers and the busy crew; the ensign fluttered in the cool breeze from the land, the anchor was atrip, the chief passengers were on the poop, gazing their last on shore; Alice and her mother were alone, when a tall dark figure approached, and, with a deep salaam, bent down before them. They started, for it seemed as though it were an apparition from the deep: none had noticed his presence; one by one the boats had left, and only the pilot's canoe remained alongside. The stranger, for so he seemed to them, uttered a few hurried words, unintelligible to their ears, and as he once more salaamed before them, stooped low and touched their feet with the tips of his fingers: in doing so Alice noticed on his left wrist the little coral necklace with the gold clasp she had worn a few years since, and which had been lost on the night of the robbery. She started and uttered an exclamation half in terror, just as Denis turned away and encountered the chief - justice. The recognition between them was mutual, and both felt surprised at the moment; but before the judge had time to order his seizure, before the first word had passed from his lips, Denis was over the ship's side, making rapidly for the shore. It was in vain to implore the commander to lower a boat in chase; the anchor was off the ground, and he had his freighted craft in charge. It was equally vain to order the small canoe to pursue the fugitive. And so Denis and his old master parted; the one made a vagabond and a violator of laws by the other, who went home in the enjoyment of a large pension for his faithful administration of justice in Ceylon!

Not many years after the occurrence just related, the hero of my story by some mischance fell into the power

of the police, was tried, found guilty of highway robbery, and sentenced to be transported to the penal settlement of Malacca for the term of his natural life. Lenna, the still faithful Rhodia, clung to him more fondly than ever: the greatness of his sorrow drew her to him in deeper love. She made interest by some means-through a clergyman I believe—and was permitted to attend him in his cell, sleeping at night on a mat outside his prison door. Having the means at her disposal, she took her passage in the same vessel to Malacca, and is, I have no doubt, at present lightening the burden of his punishment, which will terminate only with his life.

GrangÉ, the FRENCH PLOUGH IMPROVER.

A SHORT time ago, a considerable improvement took place in France on that important implement of husbandry— the plough. Strange to say, the improver was a poor uneducated lad, whose attention was turned to the subject. The account of this youth's mechanical efforts will be perused with no little interest.

John-Joseph Grangé, born in a village in the department of Vosges, was the son of a farmer, who, after having suffered on the field of battle, returned to till his native soil. Grangé, having lost his father in 1823, seeing his mother sick and infirm, and being much too young -he was then only eighteen to take the management of a farm, procured a situation as ploughboy, and from that moment it became his one engrossing idea to devise some mode of rendering less painful his daily toil. Hitherto, the labourer guiding the plough only succeeded in tracing anything approaching to a regular furrow by leaning more or less heavily on the stilt or handle of the plough; and in the midst of this operation—which required a constant attention and the exertion of nearly the whole strength-he had also to direct a regulator

of the line of draught, and withal he could not get on without a second person to guide the horses or oxen. Grangé conceived the idea of relieving the farmer from the greater part of these inconveniences. As materials

for success, he brought with him only an accurate and observant mind seconded by a rare power of perseverance.

His first essays made him an object of derision to all the wheelwrights to whom he shewed them. It was deemed absurd that a young lad, such as he was, should pretend to improve a utensil which had been the object of the learned researches of every agricultural society. But Grangé was not deterred by all this ridicule. Not being able to find a wheelwright disposed to carry out his idea of the plough, he turned wheelwright himself, sacrificed in the experiment all that he had saved of his earnings, and succeeded in producing a machine, which, doing quite as much work as the old plough, would economise the labour both of the horse and of the man guiding it. Encouraged by the success of this first attempt, he sought some means of making his plough perform its functions independently of the hand of man, and after several fruitless attempts, he at last attained the desired end.

The reputation of Grange soon spread through the Vosges and the neighbouring departments. The head of the French agriculturists proclaimed the superiority of his plough over all others. At length it excited notice in Paris, and it was tried in the country round that capital. Everywhere were people eager to do justice to the bold inventor, and gold medals and prizes were showered upon him by the agricultural societies and by government itself.

The principle of the Grangé plough presents happy applications of the power of the lever, a sure and convenient mode of directing the line of draught towards the centre, and of thus diminishing the toil to the animal, and profiting by the weight of the wheel at the fore-part to relieve the labourer. Whether this contrivance renders the instrument superior to the improved Scotch