a quarter box, was handed to Balcombe by a servant. On the top was awkwardly scrawled with chalk what seemed intended for these words, "For Kurnal Balkum." Opening it, it was found to contain the fellow to the pistol which had been discovered at the cave.

"Who brought this, Tom?" said Balcombe.

"A woman, sir, that I never saw before. She said she had orders to leave it here."

"Whence

Balcombe looked musingly at it. comes this?" said he ; "from friend or foe? If I had not distinctly avowed the ownership of the fellow to it, I should suspect this was sent here that some one might come to search for it, and by finding it fix on me the property of the other. But there can be no such purpose. I was robbed of it. Has the thief repented and returned it? Or has some other person robbed the thief to make restitution? What say you, John? What do you

make of it?"

"I could give a pretty good guess, sir, if I could see the woman that brought it. How long ago was it, Tom?”

"About half an hour, sir."

"Which way did she go?"

Tom showed the direction.

"I met her," said John, "as I came here, but I cannot say that I ever saw her before. But I will try and see if I cannot find her out." He took up his rifle and disappeared.

I find I have omitted to mention, in the proper

place, that while at St. Charles I had written to a friend in Virginia, explaining my situation, and the nature of Montague's errand, and urging him, if possible, to anticipate the villain, by going to Raby Hall and seeing Mary Scott before he should get there. Should he fail in this, he might yet be in time to put her on her guard against his art, or to defend her against his violence. I now apprized Balcombe of this; and being satisfied that we had done all that could be done, we composed ourselves, and committed the event to Providence.

The time for the meeting of the court was now at hand. We had not seen Keizer since the day when the pistol was returned, and, on inquiry, we could hear nothing of him. As the time wore away, I could not help suspecting that he was too doubtful of his own character to be willing to try conclusions with the law, in a case of so much moment. To make his escape, and leave his securities to pay the forfeiture of his recognisance, was the measure which I feared he had adopted. For that, had I been able to pay it, I should have cared nothing, as his peril had been incurred on my account. The same consideration would doubtless have reconciled Colonel Robinson (who was his security) to the loss, as John's devotion to Balcombe had completely won his heart. Indeed, he had acted under the orders of Balcombe, who would never have permitted him to come by any loss if he could help it. But there was another aspect of the case. John's disappearance would wear the

air of conscious guilt; and if he was guilty, Balcombe's tale was false, and all were guilty. This thought gave me great uneasiness. Id not like to mention it to Balcombe, but he had adverted to it, and assured me of his confidence in John. "He was not idle," he said. "He could not be idle. I rather think," continued he, "that John (with too much reason, perhaps) has not so much faith in Providence as I have; and my great fear is, that he may be engaged in some scheme of his own devising which he knows I would not ap prove."

As he said this, his wife entered the room. I would have changed the conversation, but seeing her, he went on:

"No, William; have no fear that Keizer will betray or desert me. I know him for exactly what he is, and I feel that it is impossible he should ever fail me."

"You are right, my husband," said Mrs. Balcombe. "Bad as human nature is, there is no depth of baseness so great as that of the wretch who would betray your noble confidence."

"You forget Montague," said Balcombe.

"No, I do not. Did you ever trust Montague? Even he, the vilest of the vile, could not betray you, if it were possible you should ever trust him."

"But did I not trust him, on his promise to go with me to Virginia?"

"No; you did not trust him; you trusted to

your power over him. If he could evade that, he was as free to go as a prisoner to break jail." "You are a nice casuist, Bet."

"You have taught me to distinguish. Montague's fault was not in giving you the slip, but in the crimes which made that step necessary, and his endeavour to fix a charge of guilt on you. But could John Keizer be false to you, he must be a baser wretch than Montague himself. No, my husband! confidence like yours cannot be betrayed. I know the power of that spell too well to doubt it."

"How say you, William ?" said Balcombe.

"She is right, sir," said I; "and I shall never again have faith in the instinct of woman's love if it do not prove so. But tell me, I pray you, the secret of this strange power of commanding the fidelity of those who are faithful to none be sides?"

"It is very simple. To go, if possible, beyond the letter of my own engagements, and to trust entirely, or not at all.”

CHAPTER XXVIII.

But though, dear youth, thou shouldst be dragg'd

To yonder ignominious tree,

Thou shalt not want one constant friend

To share thy better fate with thee.

Oh, then her mourning coach she called,
The sledge moved slowly on before;
Though borne on a triumphal car,

She had not loved her favourite more.

SHENSTONE.

Ar length the day of trial came, and Keizer had not yet made his appearance. Yet I saw no sign that either Balcombe or his wife at all doubted that he would be forthcoming in due time. I had not expected to see the ladies at breakfast on the morning of that day, but they were both present. Mrs. Robinson commanded herself, but her pale lip and unsteady eye showed that she did so with difficulty. But Mrs. Balcombe appeared with a firm step and erect countenance, her cheek flushed, her eye flashing with unusual brightness, but it was slightly reddened, and the veins of her forehead and temples were full and corded. She was silent, and I observed that she ate little, but her