gain sufficient time for him to accomplish this?

Fortune seemed to favor my secret prayers, for I suddenly observed that Sir Jocelyn's horse had picked up a stone. I called out to warn him of this fact, at the same time riding behind our prisoner, and bringing my horse elose to his Honor's.

"I'll have it out in a minute, Sir Jocelyn," said I, “if you will but hold my nag;" and before he had time to protest I had dismounted and was busy hammering at the stone in question. If truth be told I made no great effort to free the hoof of the poor beast, but rather endeavored to jam the stone more firmly in.

Sir Jocelyn, however, had clutched my Master's reins, holding them tight in his left hand while his right grasped his own and those of my horse. John had meanwhile gone forward with his lantern, so that I had but the light of the moon to assist me in my task.

"Make haste!' said Sir Jocelyn impatiently. "Do you mean to keep us here all night?"

"No, indeed," I returned, "but I don't seem able to get at the stone here-I'll try the other side."

And I went round between Sir Jocelyn and my Master, and once more lifted up the horse's hoof, watching all the while out of the corner of my eye to see if John had yet vanished round the curve of the road. Then, just as Sir Jocelyn began to swear at me for my clumsiness, I twitched my Master's reins out of his slackened grasp, crying out loudly: "Fly, Sir, fly! Escape while you can! Try the river!"

I threw myself upon Sir Jocelyn, endeavoring to unhorse him; but he was as powerful a man as I, and, moreover, his position gave him an advantage over me. In a moment he shook himself free of me, and whipping out his sword cut me with it sharply over the arm which still clutched his bridle;

then, as I perforce loosed my hold, he jerked a pistol from his belt and pointed it at me.

"I have a bullet for thy heart, Luke," cried he, "if thou hast a mind to play traitor again. Art mad, man, or what is the meaning of this?"

My Master, who had taken no advantage of the opportunity I had made for him, now put in a word very quietly.

66

"Twould be indeed folly," said he, to attempt to escape now, but I thank you for your goodwill, Friend."

Sir Jocelyn looked from him, as he sate so composedly in the saddle, to me clasping my wounded arm, which indeed burned furiously and from which the blood was dripping.

I should know that voice!" said he. "What! can it be that this chance has led me to my own quarry? Luke, my good lad, I'll not delay the inquiry until we reach the inn; I'll identify the prisoner here John, come back; John, I say, come back! Sirrah, hold up the lantern," he cried as the man came lumbering back, "hold it up high. Now, Sir," turning to my Master, "do me the favor to unmask."

My Master bowed, and with seeming carelessness removed at once the mask and the kerchief which bound his head, so that his long fair locks fell about his face. He was smiling and seemed quite impassive.

Sir Jocelyn took a long look at him, and then, turning to John, desired him to ride on, but to remain within call.

"A useless precaution, Sir Jocelyn," cried my Master quietly. "I have no intention of endeavoring to escape. "Tis Fate I believe which has brought us together."

"Fate, indeed!" returned Sir Jocelyn, and I could hear his voice shake with passion-whether exultation or fury I could not divine. He loosed my Master's reins, however, of which he had again possessed himself, and we rode

forward in silence, the burning in my arm becoming almost unbearable, and the hot blood soaking into my sleeve. But I cared little for the pain and felt no fear concerning myself, absorbed as I was in dread of what might be my Master's doom.

A light breeze arose, driving the clouds from the pale moon, and I saw that while my Master rode with the same careless ease as before, looking neither to right nor to left, Sir Jocelyn's figure was turned towards him and he moved not his eyes from his face.

All at once he broke silence. "Since when," said he, "has it pleased you to turn Highwayman, Mr.-?"

He gave my Master a name which I had never hitherto heard, and which I forbear to set down, for indeed it was one of the greatest in England-one to swear by in the South; and since my experience hath proved it safer to avoid giving offence to the Great, I deem it best to use discretion in this matter-but 'twas a very noble name.

My Master laughed lightly. "Why," said he, "you will scarce believe me if I say 'tis my first offence."

"I would believe you if you said 'twould be your last," returned Sir Jocelyn grimly. "Such freaks as these lead to the gallows."

"That may very well be," returned my Master, "and yet in my case I hardly think it."

"Did we not catch you red-handeddid you not fire upon us twice?" thundered the other. "Zounds, Sir, you even carry upon your person the proofs of your guilt."

My Master laughed again, and raising his hand negligently touched the spot where my tiny bullet had grazed his neck; then still laughing he drew forth from his bosom the empty bag which had encased Mrs. Dorothy's notes. "Proofs indeed!" said he. "Honest

Luke can swear to them. Yet I doubt if you will get them to hang a man of my Quality even for the public good."

"S'death!" cried Sir Jocelyn, and leaning forward he once more caught my Master's reins, forcing the horse to halt. "I care not a snap of my fingers for the public good. I have a private quarrel with you, and mean to do justice upon you, either with my own hand, or through the instrumentality of the Law. I tracked you to this neighborhood for no other purpose than to avenge myself upon you."

"And pray, Sir Jocelyn Gillibrand, how did you manage to track me?"

"Why, by means of a trifle of a lovetoken which was innocently shown me by one we both know. Sir, when a man is bent on such deeds as that which you have but just accomplished, 'twere as well he let not trinkets engraved with his family crest lie within reach of his enemy's eyes. What were easier than to journey to the country where the Plume of Seven Feathers is as well known and as much honored as the Lion Passant?"

My Master sate as though turned to stone, and Sir Jocelyn continued violently:

"Aye, by Heaven, there is Justice in this! 'Twas she herself who unwittingly put me on the scent; 'twas her messenger whom you robbed upon the road; 'twas her money of which you rifled him. Providence has delivered you into my hand, and I'll have no mercy on you. Despicable wretch!" exclaimed Sir Jocelyn, his voice trumpeting out the words like a clarion. "What! you think to go unpunished because of the name you bear? The more shame for you," he went on with everincreasing wrath, "if you bear a noble name-it does but dishonor you the more in my eyes. How could I fail to scorn a man who could so shame the good blood in his veins!"

"Come, Sir, enough of this!" cried the

other impatiently, "since you have a quarrel with me let us settle it here and now. "Tis not the first time we uave crossed swords without formalities."

"Nay," returned Sir Jocelyn, with a sudden deadly calm, to my mind more terrible than his previous violence, "not, so fast, Sir, I beg. My purpose is to carry you first to the North-yes-to Lychgate Hall itself, that the Lady who scorned me for your sake may feast her eyes upon you. 'Twas you, Sir, who filched my bride from meshe shall learn that you thought it no disgrace to plunder a poor yokel of money not his own. When she hath learnt what manner of man you are I'll rid the world of you, Sir, by one means or another."

"Take me to her!" cried my Master, as I must ever call him; and all at once the two seemed to change natures, he becoming the more fiery as Sir Jocelyn grew cold. "Take me to her. Aye, 'tis best so. Let her see me by all means, and judge for herself of the pass to which she has brought me!"

"It wanted only this!" sneered Sir Jocelyn. "Truly this is the last touch. To cast the blame of your misdeeds upon her. Oh, 'twas well said-a plausible tale indeed! 'Tis her fault that she should be robbed of her own money-oh," he cried, suddenly breaking out into fury again, "the world will be well rid of such carrion!"

"Sir Jocelyn Gillibrand," broke out my Master, his eyes seeming to shoot forth flames, as I had seen them do once or twice before in the extremity of passion, "Sir Jocelyn Gillibrand, because I am your prisoner, does that give you the right to insult me? I vow 'tis past endurance. Dismount, Sir, and draw!" he exclaimed, leaping from the saddle and whisking out his sword. "Draw and defend yourself! For, by Heaven! you shall pay for these outrages."

Sir Jocelyn touched his horse with his heel so that it curvetted aside, and cried out commandingly, again calling my Master by his name.

" said

"Put up your sword, Mr.he, "we cannot settle our differences thus even if there were light enough to see by. Indeed, Sir, I must consider whether I will consent to cross swords with you. But I did wrong to insult a man as defenceless as you have now become."

The moonlight glanced upon the barrel of a pistol which he drew from his holster.

"You are at my mercy, you see," said he, "advance a step and you are a dead man. I have but to whistle and my folks will come up and disarm you. But get to your saddle again-I will not have recourse to such measures unless you force me to them."

My Master, after a pause, lowered his blade, sheathed it slowly and remounted again. His handsome head drooped upon his breast. I understood that his spirit quailed, not with the fear of death or danger, but at the slur upon his honor which he was unable to avenge. I guessed that for a moment he had been tempted to make an onslaught upon Sir Jocelyn at the risk of his own life, but had been withheld by some inward consideration stronger even than his anger. No one spoke after this until, as we approached the inn, my Master, turning to his captor, craved in a few words his permission to resume his disguise, and Sir Jocelyn as briefly granted it.

We dismounted in the stableyard, and Sir Jocelyn immediately ordered a coach and post-horses.

"We do not ride, then?" inquired my Master.

"No," returned the other fiercely, "we could not make speed enough on horseback. We must travel day and night."

My Master patted Star's neck a moment without replying; and then turn

ing to the ostler desired him to take good care of his horse, which should presently be sent for, when all who contributed to its good estate should be rewarded. He slipped a couple of gold pieces into the man's hand as he spoke, and tossed a handful of silver among the stableboys who crowded round.

"Aye, to be sure, Master," returned they, as though with one accord, "we'll take good care of him."

"Good treatment and no questions asked," added the ostler.

"And what about my horse?” said I to Sir Jocelyn, who stood by, impatiently tapping the pavement with the toe of his riding-boot. "He is already exhausted and could not in any case keep pace with your coach if you bait not day or night.”

"What does it matter to me if he be tired or not?" he returned, almost brutally. "You can take your own time about returning home."

"Nay, but I must go with you," I murmured, making so free in my eagerness as to clutch him by the sleeve. "You must take me, your Honor-indeed you must. I have been too much concerned in this matter," I went on desperately, "not to have a right to see it out."

"Why, then, you shall!" he answered, but speaking more after the fashion of one who utters a threat than confers a kindness. "You shall be present at the end, Luke Wright. Indeed, I shall have need of your testimony, but see you make no more attempts to play the traitor."

"Oh, Sir," I broke forth, "I like not that word-and have not deserved it. Yet Mrs. Dorothy herself will very like taunt me with the same when she finds I have so ill done her errand. But God knows I have done my best and tried to be faithful."

The grief in my voice touched him, I suppose, for he caught me by the

hand and wrung it, saying very kindly: "Well, I believe you, my lad; though why you should have sought to favor this stranger more than myself puzzles me-seeing that the man hath done you such grievous wrong, too. But we'll speak no more on't. Mr. is sworn

to make no attemps at escape, so I trow you may ride in the coach with us without harm to my project. As for your precious horse," he added with a smile, "my man Tom shall ride him quietly home as soon as his wound be healed."

My Master had taken no part in this colloquy, but stood by quietly awaiting his captor's pleasure; and on the latter now desiring him very courteously to enter and partake of some refreshment, he inclined his head and stepped on before him, as though he had been an honored guest.

Just as we were about to enter the house, the Landlord's Son and his companion, who had remained behind to search for John Dewey, came clattering up to announce that they could find no trace of him. I doubt they had not made any very careful examination of the place, partly through fear of falling in with others of a possible gang, partly because of a certain wish to abet the man's escape.

They immediately became the centre of an excited group, to whom they related their adventures with much zest and spirit. These good folks indeed had as yet heard no details of the enterprise, Tom having been assisted indoors by his companion of the ride and John, and no one daring to question Sir Jocelyn and myself. But tongues now wagged freely, and I heard the name of John Dewey passing from mouth to mouth. My Master, who still stood upon the doorstep while Sir Jocelyn parleyed with the Landlord, now caught me by the arm.

"Put them off the scent if you can," he whispered. "John is my Foster

brother and Malachi's Son. I shall never forgive myself if I bring him to harm."

When Sir Jocelyn had conveyed his prisoner into the house, I went forth into the yard with as careless and swaggering an air as I could assume.

"What is that I hear you say?" cried I. "John Dewey, indeed! A likely tale! Why, John Dewey is my good friend and was to meet me here if I tarried long enough. You remember how I told you I awaited him? Do you think he would fall upon me on the road to rob me of what I meant to hand over to him fairly?"

The men looked at each other dubiously.

"Well, it do seem a queer thing,” said one, "but I reckon 'twas John Dewey for all that."

"Pooh! nonsense!" cried I. "You should think it shame to take an honest man's character away. You are making a mistake, I say, and the only way you can make up for it is by drinking my good friend John's health."

London Times.

With that I drew one of Mrs. Dorothy's remaining gold pieces from my pocket and spun it in the air.

"Think again; it was never John Dewey. Why, all you Devon men are as like as so many crows."

"There's something in that," returned they, staring at the coin and laughing knowingly.

There's a deal in that!" said I. "Come, drink his health, and if he calls to see me to-morrow tell him I could not wait, being forced unexpectedly to return whence I came."

"We'll tell him to be sure," returned they; and one of them, catching the coin I tossed to him, set it in his eye and grinned at me. Then the ostler calling out that he must have help in harnessing the horses to the travellingcoach, the group dispersed, and I went indoors to have my wound dressed, feeling a little less heavy at heart since I had saved at least one of my assailants from the consequences of his folly.