important are at hand. In brief, therefore, Heringford received with joy the intelligence of Mat's discovery, and Bruton soon learnt to sympathize with the gratification of his friends. Annette, by Bruton's advice, personally petitioned King Henry for her father's freedom, which she obtained on a pledge that he would remain in England, under rule as a British subject.

On the morning when he was deserted by Mat Maybird, Heringford also made a discovery. He wandered in search of the old house where he had first seen Sir Richard Ellerton, and, with some trouble, found it; to his surprise, he perceived as he passed rapidly by the window, that all the conspirators were therein assembled, and that Simon Byre was among their number. Mat Maybird too was soon after certified of this fact, when, returning from one of his frequent visits to the lodging of the De Vermonts, he was stopped by Curts.

"What is the news, friend?" asked Mat. "Not now-I can tell thee nothing now. I know where you are staying; at dusk to-night seek me in the street, and I will lead thee."

"Lead me about to night!" cried Mat; "why, look at the clouds, man, feel how cold the wind is. Is this weather for night walks?" "Thou'rt totally mistaken," said Curts, "if thou thinkest I invite thee for nothing. We meet to night-do not fail.”

"Oh, is that it?" said Mat; "very well-"and, with his head full of Annette de Vermont, he pursued his walk in pensive attitude, cogitating sentiment.

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTH

INTRODUCES THE READER TO THE ABODE OF SPENTON, AND TO A VERY PLEASANT LITTLE PARTY THERE ASSEMBLED.

In the course of the evening came a messenger from the De Vermonts, requesting Heringford's immediate presence. The summons was at once obeyed, and in a short time, Edward arrived at the lodgings of the expatriated family. These, although small, were furnished in consistence with the station of their occupiers, and contained every available comfort, in addition to those trivial uxuries that use renders absolutely necessary to those who are

enabled to indulge in them. Annette received Heringford alone; her manner betrayed the greatest agitation.

"Is not thy father freed?" asked Edward.

"Yes," replied she; "not that; it was not for that I ventured to call thee hither. Oh, Sir Edward! I am grateful, I am very grateful for this,-but-dear Esther!"

"She is ill?”

"Near death," sobbed Annette; "she is sinking fast, and the dying breath she scarcely can command calls only for her Richard. Thou knowest the man; could he be brought to see what misery nis sin hath made, he would relent; a kiss of his upon her thin cold lips would make my aunt die happy."

"It was a kind thought of thine," said Edward; "I doubt not but that he will be softened. He is now not far from hence, and

I will bring him hither."

Annette's thanks were expressed in silence, through her tears, and Edward hastened on his mission.

In the mean time, Mat Maybird had stationed himself at a window of Bruton's house, eagerly upon the watch for his appointed visitor. That estimable individual was punctual to his time, and Mat entered at once into the enjoyment of his society: and enjoyment to Mat Maybird verily it was to obtain a recital of the wrongs and hardships his companion had undergone, during and subsequent to his late imprisonment in Kate Westrill's chamber. At every violent protestation of rage on the part of the unconscious victim of Mat's ingenuity, he received such consolation as might be afforded by bursts of unrestrained delight, heightened to an unlimited excess by each manifestation of bewilderment and surprise. "Ha, gentle Curts, and so they accused thee of foul dealing! libelled thy spotless reputation! slurred thy fair character! accused thee of aidance in the prisoners' escape! whereas thou wouldst rather have hung them-is it so? Disgraceful in good sooth! Think, Curts, of thy damaged character! Oh, it was cruel! cruel as this pelting rain, that wets us to the skin;-why didst not choose fairer weather for thy business, Master Curts? Ay, I see-need'st not explain,—the fairest weather would be fouled, no doubt, by work like ours. Who called this meeting?"

"Sir Richard Ellerton."

"Then may his last bed be a horse-trough, and the weeping pump shed abundant tears over his expiring frame, for the ducking that, through him, this day I suffer. And how many more narrow

lanes and dirty passages must we grope through? Your place of meeting, if it be hereabouts, wants the advantage of an airy or respectable situation; but if it be distant, Master Curts, I shall soon tire and return whence I came."

"There is no need for that," said Curts; "the house is close at hand."

"Then," replied Mat, "I must say that it is very injudiciously situated. Is this it?"

The latter inquiry was made as Curts stopped before the hovel which we described in a former chapter, at the commencement of this history.

"This is the house," said Curts.

"The house, is it?" replied Mat. "Now hear me, Master Curts; my very respected mother is a farming-woman and keepeth pigs; but she hath not one that is not far too well brought up to enter a dirty sty like this: dost think, therefore, that her own son will set his foot within it? Pah! It reeketh vilely!"

"Here is our place of meeting," exclaimed Curts, impatiently. "Wherefore must we meet here?" asked Mat; "who may be the owner of this family mansion?"

"It is Spenton's house," said Curts; "canst thou cease talking?" "I will only observe," answered Mat, "that I cannot congratulate Master Spenton on the state of repair in which his abode is found. If he marry Kate Westrill, will he bring his bride to a home like this?"

"To this house," replied Curts, angrily; "it is cold-art ready?" "If he do bring Kate hither, I hope," said Mat, "she will persuade him to whitewash the place, at the very least. Don't be impatient, my good friend; I will enter, if only to inspect the interior."

Curts whistled, and was similarly answered from within; tapping thrice against the door, it was opened cautiously by an old woman; seeing Curts, she admitted the expected visitors, and, having closed the door, bolted it carefully.

"A cold night this, Master Curts," said she, "it pierceth to the bones of us old folk."

"Yes," replied Curts, shortly; "come, Maybird."

Mat was staring at the woman in undisguised astonishment; he had at first glanced round the room, but now his eye rested fixedly upon the genius of the place. The room was empty; the walls bare and damp, marked by the water that trickled down upon

their face. There was a hearth, blackened, but fireless; the floor was of damp stone. The window, opening into the street, was guarded by a heavy shutter,-surely not for protection against thieves! The outer door was now barred and bolted; whilst another within showed, through its chinks, the light from an adjoining room. The old woman, on whom Mat next fixed his gaze, was principally remarkable for a dearth of beauty. Her bare head was covered with a dirty, once parti-coloured, skull-cap, now of uniform blackness; her wrinkled and smoke-dried features were decidedly hideous. Small twinkling eyes, a long and hooked nose, thin shrivelled lips, and a peaked chin, in continual mumbling motion, below a toothless mouth, offered a general outline more picturesque than agreeable; she wore a close dress over her whole person, that might once have been dyed of some gay colour; what, however, that had been the most expert theorist could not satisfactorily have decided. On her feet were thick, heavy shoes; and with one long bony hand, she shaded the light she held from the draughts that pierced the room in all directions. These first restored Mat Maybird to his senses, and enabled him to hear the angry exclamations of Curts.

"Well!" said the old hag; "what thinkest thou of me, young man?"

"The most disgusting creature I ever beheld," muttered Mat, but in tones beneath the woman's hearing; and, indeed, had they been pretty loud, they would have been to her equally unintelligible. Mat turned to Curts:

"Is this the meeting?" inquired he.

"A truce to folly," said Curts; and looking towards the old woman, she tottered before them to the door, through the crevices of which the light was gleaming. Opening it, Curts and Maybird entered, the old woman following.

The room in which they now stood was far from promising at any time to redeem the general character of the house. The blackened beams on the ceiling were rough, and even in some places broken, the ceiling itself crumbling and bent inwards, the plaster falling from the walls; a rotten deal table stood in the middle of the room, which was lighted by a torch fastened against the wall, and by the blaze of the wood fire in the large and open hearth. Around the latter were seated, on temporary stools, formed of barrels, boxes, or simply logs of wood, the assembled conspirators, on whose countenances the flickering fire cast a dull, lurid light.

Sir Richard Ellerton was there, and rose when the new comers appeared; Andrew and Simon Byre remained sitting.

"Now, Dame Jessamine," shouted Andrew, motioning at the same time with his hand, "give our visitors whereon to sit !"

"Ay, ay," mumbled the old creature, "old folk serve the young; when I was a girl, the young were to serve the old-serve young, serve old, serve all my life through." Thus grumbling, she rolled two casks to the fireside.

"Enough," said Curts; "go."

"Go!" cried the dame; "where am I to go? Why should I go? Eh, master?"

"Go to thy grave, an thou wilt, old woman," muttered Westrill; then, in a louder voice, "To the next room; wait until we have done."

"There is no fire," replied the woman; "it is cold, I shall do ye no harm here: devil's councils as yours may be," added she, leering, "I have matched them in my time, I and Spenton. He's a brave lad, and never threatens me."

"Were he a little braver," muttered Curts, "I think he would do more than threaten."

"Oh!" cried Mat, "this is Master Spenton's housekeeper,Dame Jessamine, eh?-a very appropriate name-not so sweetly scented though!" added he, approaching her. "My good lady, I wish to recommend thee something :-thy master expecteth shortly to return with a wife; let me advise, since this house is far from clean, that it be well washed before he return; and," added he, "if thou wert to scour thine own outside it would not be so very much amiss."

The old dame could not hear, and shook her head vacantly, as she tottered away and seated herself at the other end of the room. "Advice wasted!" said Andrew, laughing. "Now, Master Maybird, I pray thee be seated."

Mat seated himself, having first moved his allotted cask to a considerable distance from the others.

"Why not sit closer ?" inquired Curts.

"No, no," said Mat; "close enough ;-too close; this cask is very low, I'll sit on the table." And accordingly Mat placed himself upon the table, directing one side to Dame Jessamine, and the other to the party assembled round the fire. Sir Richard Ellerton was pacing the room.

Now," said Mat, "ye may commence business.

I am as