of thoughts passed through her mind. " Everell has scarcely quitted that station. With what eagerness he has hung over my words when I spoke of Hope! What a mortal paleness has overspread his face at every new alarm! It would not, perhaps, have been right, but methinks it would .have been natural, that he should have expressed some concern for me: I cannot remember that he has. How often has he said to me, * Dear Esther, you will not leave her V and, * For the love of Heaven, trust her not a moment to the discretion of her aunt;' *Do not confide in Jennet f ^ Madam Winthrop has too many cares for so delicate a charge: all depends on you, dear Esther.' Yes, he said dear Esther; but how many times he has repeated it, as if his life were bound up in hers. If I were in Hope's condition, would he feel thus 1 I could suffer death itself for such proofs of tenderness. Sinful worm that I am, thus to dote on any creature." The serenity of her mind was disturbed: she rose involuntarily: as she rose, her gown caught in her chair, and overthrew it The chair fell against a little stand by the bedside, covered with vials, cups, and spoons, and all were overthrown, with one of those horrible clatters that are as startUng in a sick-room as the explosion of a magazine at midnight.

Everell, alarmed by the unwonted noise, instinctively opened the door: Hope awoke from her profound sleep and drew aside the curtain; she looked bewildered, but it was no longer the wildness of fever : thronging and indistinct recollections oppressed

her; but, after an instant, a perfect consciousness of the past and the present returned; she covered her eyes, and sank back on her pillow, murmuring, " Thank God!" and tears of gratitude and joy stole over her cheeks.

Esther lost every other emotion in unmixed joy. She went to the door to Everell, who was still standing there as if he were transfixed. " It is as you see," she said; " the danger is past; she has slept sweetly for three hours, and was now only disturbed by my carelessness: go to your father with the good news; your face will tell it, even if your lips refuse, as they do now, to move."

They did now move, and the joy of his heart broke forth in the exclamation, " You are an angel, Esther ! My father owes to you the preservation of his dearest treasure; and I—^I—my life, Esther, shall prove to you my sense of what I owe you."

There was an enthusiasm in his manner that for the first time satisfied Esther's feelings; but, her religious sentiments habitually predominating over every other, " I have been a poor but honoured instrument," she said; " let us all carry our thanksgivings to that altar where they are due." Then, after allowing Everell to press her hand to his lips, she closed the door, and returned to Hope's bedside. Hope again put aside the bed-curtain: " Is not my sister here ?" she asked ; " she must be here; and yet I can scarcely separate my dreams from the strange accidents of that night."

" She is here, safe and well, my dear Hope; but,

for the present, you must be content not to see her : you have been very ill, and need perfect rest."

" I feel that I need it, Esther; but I must first know how it has fared with Magawisca; she came on my solemn promise; I trust she has been justly dealt by: she has been received as she deserved, Esther V

Esther hesitated; but, seeing Hope's lip quivering with apprehension, and fearing the effects, in her weak state, of any new agitation, she, for the first time in her life, condescended to an equivocation, solacing herself with thinking that she ought to believe that perfectly right which her uncle Winthrop appointed : she said, " Magawisca has had a merited reception: now ask no more questions, Hope, but compose yourself again to sleep." If Hope had had the will, she had not the power to disobey, for Nature will not be rifled of her dues. But we must leave her to the restoring influence of the kindest of all Nature's provisions, to visit one from whom care and sorrow banished sleep.

At an advanced hour of the following evening. Sir Philip Gardiner repaired to the town jail, and was admitted by its keeper, Bamaby Tuttle. The knight produced a passport to the cell of Thomas Morton, and, pointing to the governor's signature and seal, " You know that, friend ?" he said.

** As well as my own face; but I am loath to lead a gentleman of your bearing to such an unsavoury place."

". Scruple not, honest Master Tuttle ; duty takes no note of time or place."

Vol. n.— K

r

" You shall be served, sir, and with the better will, since you seem to be, as it were, of a God-serving turn ; but walk in, your worship, and sit down in my bit of a place, which, though a homely one, and within the four walls of a jail, is, I thank the Lord, like that into which Paul and Silas were thrust, a place where prayers and praises are often heard.'*

Barnaby now lighted a candle, and while Sir Philip was awaiting his dilatory preparations, he could not but wonder that a man of his appearance should have been selected for an office that is usually supposed to require a muscular frame, strong nerves, and a hardy spirit. Barnaby Tuttle had none of these; but, on the contrary, was a man of small stature, meager person, and a pale and meek countenance, that bespoke the disposition that lets ^^ I dare not wait upon I would."

** Have you been long in this service of jailer V^ asked Sir Philip.

" Six years, an please your worship, come the 10th day of next October, at eight o'clock of the morning. I had long been a servant in the governor's own household, and he gave me the office, as he was pleased to say, because he knew me trustworthy, and a merciful man."

" But mercy. Master Barnaby, is not held to be a special qualification for those of your calling."

"It is not, sir? Well, I can tell your honour there's no place it's more wanted; and here, in our new English colony, we have come, as it were, under a new dispensation. Our prisoners are seldom

put in for those crimes that fill the jails in Old Efig-land. Since I have been keeper—six years next October, as I told you it is—^I have had but few in for stealing, and one for murder ; and that was a disputed case, there being no clear testimony; but, as he was proved to have lived an atheist life, he was condemned to die, and at the last confessed many sore offences, which, as Mr. Cotton observed in his sermon, preached the next Lord's day, were each and all held worthy of death by the laws of Moses. No, sir, our prisoners are chiefly those who are led astray of the devil into divers errors of opinions, or those who commit such sins as are named at length in the Levitical law."

" Ah," said Sir Philip, with a well-pitched groan, " the depravity of man will find a channel; stop it at one place, and it will out at another. But come, friend Barnaby, time is going on: I'll follow you." The jailer now led the way through a long, narrow passage, with doors on each side which opened into small apartments. " Hark !" said Barnaby, laying his hand on Sir Philip's arm; " hear you that ? It's Gorton praying: he and his company are all along in these wards; and betimes I hear them calling on the Lord, like Daniel in the lions' den, for hours together. I hope it's not a sin to feel for such wofijl heretics, for I have dropped salt tears for them. Does not your honour think our magistrates may have some way opened up for their pardon ?"

" I see not how they can. Master Barnaby, unless these sore revilers should renounce their heresies,

or," he added, with an involuntary sneer, fortunately for him, unobserved by his simple companion," or their title to the Indian lands."

They had now arrived at one extremity of the passage, and Barnaby selected a key from his bunch; but, before putting it in the lock, he said," Morton is in a little room within the Indian woman's, taken the other day."

" So I understand; and by your leave. Master Tuttle, I would address a private admonition to this Indian woman, who, as report saith, is an obstinate heathen."

" I suppose she is, your honour ; they that should know say so. But she hath truly a discreet and quiet way with her, that I would was more common among Christian women. But, as you say you wish to speak in private, I must beg your honour's pardon for turning my bolt on you. I will give you the light, and the key to the inner room; and when you desire my attendance, you have but to pull a cord that hangs by the frame of the door inside, and rings a bdl in the passage: one word more, your honour—be on your guard when you go into Morton's cell. He raves, by times, as if all the fiends possessed him ; and then, again, he sings and dances, as if he were at his revels on the Merry Mount; and by times he cries—the poor old man—like a baby, for the twenty-four hours round; so that I cannot but think a place in the London Hospital would be fitter for him than this."

" Your feelings seem not to suit v«dth the humour of your profession. Master Tuttle."

" Maybe not, sir; but there is a pleasure in a pitiful feeling, let your outward work be ever so hardy as, doubtless, your worship well knows."

Sir Philip felt that conscience sent a burning blush to his hardened cheek; and he said, with an impatient tone, "I have my instructions: let me pass in. Master Tuttle.*' Barnaby unlocked the door, gave him the candle, and then turned the bolt upon him.

Magawisca was slowly pacing the room to and fro; she stopped, uttered a faint exclamation at the aght of her visiter, then turned away as if disappointed, and resumed her melancholy step. Sir Philip held up his candle to survey the apartment. It was a room of ordinary size, with one small grated window, and containing a flock-bed and a three-legged stool, on which stood a plate of untasted provisions.

"Truly,"said he,advancing into the room," generous entertainment, this, for a hapless maiden." Magawisca made no reply, and gave no heed to him, and he proceeded: "A godly and gallant youth, that Everell Fletcher, to suffer one who risked her life, and cast away a precious limb for him, to he forgotten here. Methinks, if he had a spark of thy noble nature, maiden, he would burn the town, or batter down this prison wall for you." An irrepressible groan escaped from Magawisca, but she spoke not.

" He leaves you here, alone and helpless, to await death," continued the knight, thus venting his raa-K 2

lignity against Everell, though he saw that every . word was a torturing knife to the innocent maiden; " death, the only boon you can expect from these most Christian magistrates; while he, with a light heart and smirking face, is dancing attendance on his lady-love."

** On whom ?" interrupted Magawisca, in- a tone of fearful impatience.

" On her who played so faithfully the part of decoy-pigeon to thee."

" Hope Leslie! My father, then, is taken ?" she screamed.

" Nay, nay, not so; thy father and brother both, by some wondrous chance, escaped."

" Dost thou speak truth ?" demanded Magawisca, in a thrilling voice, and looking in Sir Philip's face as if she would penetrate his soul; " I doubt thee."

The knight opportunely bethought himself of having heard Magawisca, during her interview with Hope Leslie, allude to the Romish religion: he took a crucifix from his bosom, and pressed it to his lips. " Then, by this holy sign," he said, " of which, if you know aught, you know that to use it falsely would bring death to my soul, I swear I speak truly."

Magawisca again turned away; and drawing her mantle, which, in her emotion, had fallen back, close over her shoulders, she continued to pace the apartment without bestowing even a look on Sir Philip, who felt himself in an awkward predicament, and found it difficult to rally his spirits to prosecute the object of his visit. But habitually confident, and.

like all bad men, distrusting the existence of incorruptible virtue, he soon shook off his embarrassment, and said, " I doubt, maiden, you would breathe more freely in the wild wood than in this stifling prison, and sleep more quietly on the piled leaves of your forests than on that bed that Christian love has spread for you." Magawisca neither manifested by word nor sign that she heard him, and he proceeded more explicitly : " Do you sigh for the freedom of Nature ? Would you be restored to it ?"

" Would I! would the imprisoned bird return to its nestlings V She now stopped, and looked with eager inquiry on Sir Philip.

" Then listen to me, and you shall learn by what means and on what terms you may escape from this prison, and beyond the reach of your enemies. Here," he continued, producing from beneath his cloak a rope ladder and a file and wrench, " here are instruments by which you can remove those bars, and by which you may safely descend to the ground."

" Tell me," cried Magawisca, a ray of joy lighting her eyes, " tell me how I shall use them."

Sir Philip explained the mode, enjoined great caution, and then proceeded to say, "By to-morrow night at twelve you can remove the bars; the town will then be still; proceed directly to the point where you last landed, and a boat shall there be in readiness, well manned, to convey you beyond danger."

^* Well—well," she replied, with breathless eagerness, " now tell me what I am to do ; what a poor

Indian prisoner can do to requite such a favour as thisr

Sir Philip began a reply, stammered, and paused. He seemed to turn and turn his purpose, and endeavoured to shelter it in some drapery that should hide its ugliness; but this was beyond his art; and, summoning impudence to his aid, he said, " I have a young damsel with me, who for silly love followed me out of England. Now, you forester maiden, who live according to the honesty of Nature, you could not understand me if I were to tell you of the cruel laws of the world, which oblige this poor girl to disguise herself in man's apparel, and counterfeit the duties of a page, that she may conceal her love. She hath become somewhat troublesome to me: all that I ask as the price of your liberty is, that she may be the companion of your flight"

" Doth she go wilhngly ?"

" Nay, not willingly ; but she is young, and, like a tender twig, you can bend her at will ; all I a^ is your promise that she return not."

"But if she resist?"

" Act your pleasure with her ; yet I would not that she were harmed. You may give her to your brother in the place of this fair-haired damsel they have stolen from him; or," he added, for he saw that Magawisca^s brow contracted," or, if that suits not you nor him, you may take her to your western forests, and give her to a Romish priest, who will guide her to the Hotel Dieu which our good Lady of Bouillon has estabhshed in Canada." Magawis-

ca dropped at his feet the instruments which she had grasped with such delight. " Nay, nay, bethink you, maiden, it is a small boon to return for liberty and life; for, trust me, if you remain here they will not spare your life."

" And dost thou think," she replied," that I would make my heart as black as thine to save my life ? Life! Dost thou not know that life can only be abated by those evil deeds forbidden by the Great Master of Life ? The writing of the Great Spirit has surely Vanished from thy degraded soul, or thou wouldst know that man cannot touch life! Life is naught but the image of the Great Spirit; and he hath most of it who sends it back most true and unbroken, like the perfect image of the clear heavens in the still lake "

Sir Philip's eye fell, and his heart quailed before the lofty glance and unsullied spirit of the Indian maiden. Once he looked askance at her, but it was with such a look as Satan eyed the sun in his " high meridian tower." With a feeling of almost insupportable meanness, he collected, and again concealed beneath his cloak, the ladder and other instruments, which he had been at no small pains to procure, and was turning to summon Barnaby by ringing the belly when he suddenly recollected that Thomas Morton had been the ostensible motive of his visit, and that it was but a prudent precaution to look in upon him for an instant; and feeling too, perhaps, a slight curiosity to see the companion of his former excesses, he changed his purpose, turned to Morton's door, unlocked and opened it

The old man seemed to have shrunk away as if frightened, and was gathered up almost into a ball in one corner of his miserable little squalid den. A few remnants of his garments hung like shreds about him. Every particle of his hair had dropped out; his grizzly beard was matted together; his eyes gleamed like sparks of fire in utter darkness. Sir Philip was transfixed. " Is this," he thought, "Morton ! the gentleman—^the gallant cavalier—the man of pleasure ? Good God! the girl hath truly spoken of life!" While he stood thus, the old man sprang on him like a cat, pulled him within the door, and then, with the action of madness, swifl as thought, he seized the key, locked the door on the inside, and threw the key through the bars of the window , without the prison. The candle had fallen and was extinguished, and Sir Philip found himself immured," with his scarcely human companion, in total darkness, without any means of rescue excepting through Magawisca. His first impulse was to entreat her to ring the bell; but he delayed for a moment, lest he should heighten the old man's paroxysm of madness.

In this interval of silence Magawisca fancied she heard a sound against her window, and, on going to it, perceived, though the night was extremely dark, a ladder resting against the bars; ahe listened, and heard a footstep ascending; then there was a wrestling in Morton's room, and screams, " He'll kill me—^ring the bell." Again all was still, and she heard from the ground below," Come down, Mr. Everell, for the love of Heaven come down."

The words were uttered in a tone hardly above a whisper.

** Hush, Digby, I will not come down!"

"Then you are lost; those cries will certainly alarm the guard."

"Hush! the cries have ceased." Everell moimt-ed quite to the window, qiuck as if he had risen on wings.

" He is true!" thought Magawisca; and it seemed to her that her heart would burst with joy, but she could not speak. He applied an instrument to one of the iron bars, and wrenched it off. Repeated and louder cries of " Murder! help ! ring the bell!" now proceeded from Gardiner, and the old maniac seemed determined to outroar him. Again the noise ceased, and again Digby spoke in a more agitated voice than before. "Oh, they are stirring in the yard; come away, Mr. Everell."

" I will not—I had rather die; stand fast, Digby; one bar more, and she is free;" and again he applied the instrument.

"Are you mad?" exclaimed Digby, in a more raised and eager voice; " I tell you the lights are coming; if you do not escape now, nothing can ever be done for her."

This last argument had the intended effect. Everell felt that all hope of extricating Magawisca depended on his now eluding discovery; and with an exclamation of bitter disappointment, he relinquished the enterprise for the present, and descending a few rounds of the ladder, leaped to the ground, and,

t

with Digby, disappeared before the guard reached the spot of operations. Magawisca saw two of the men go off in pursuit^ while the other remained picking up the implements that Everell had dropped^ and muttering something of old Barnaby sleeping as if he slept his last sleep.

Relieved from the sad conviction of Everell's desertion and ingratitude, Magawisca seemed for a moment to float on happiness, and, in her exultation, to forget the rocks and quicksands that encompassed her. Another outcry from Sir Philip recalled her thoughts, and, obeying the first impulse of humanity, she rang the bell violently. Barnaby soon appeared with a lamp and keys, and learning the durance of Sir Philip, he hastened to his relief. A key was found to unlock the door, and, on opening it, the knight's terror and distress were fully explained. Morton had thrown him on his back, and pinned him to the floor by planting his knee on Sir Philip's breast, and had interrupted his cries, and almost suffocated him, by stufiing his cloak into his mouth. At the sight of his keeper the maniac sprang off, and, with a sort of inarticulate chattering and laughing, resumed his old station in the corner, apparently quite unconscious that he had moved from it.

Sir Philip darted out, and shut the door as if he were closing a tiger's cage; and then, in wrath that overswelled all limits, he turned upon poor Barnaby, and shaking him till his old bones seemed to rattle in their thin casement, he poured out on him curses deep and loud for leading him into that '^ devil's

den." Magawisca interposed ; but, instead of calming his wrath, she only drew it on herself. He swore he would be revenged on her," d—d Indian that she was, to stand by and not lift her hand when she knew he was dying by torture." Magawisca did not vouchsafe any other reply to this attack than a look, of calm disdain ; and Barnaby, now recovering from the fright and amazement into which Sir Philip's violence had thrown him, held up his lamp, and reconnoitring the knight's face and person, " It is the same," he said, resolving his honest doubts, " the same I let in: circumstances alter cases, and men too, I think: why, I took him for as godly a seeming man as ever I laid my eyes on—a yea and nay Pilgrim; but such profane swearing exceedeth Chad-dock's men, or Chaddock either, or the master they serve."

*^ Prate not, you canting villain: why did not you come when you heard my cries ? or where was you that you hearfl them not ?"

" Just taking a little nap in my rocking-chair; and I said to myself as I sat myself down, ^ Now, Barnaby, if you should happen to fall out of your mediation into sleep, remember to wake at the ringing of the bell ;* and, accordingly, at the very first touch of it I was on my feet and coming hitherward."

Sir Philip's panic and wrath had now so far subsided that he perceived there was an alarming discordance between his extempore conduct and his elaborate pretensions; and, reassuming his mask with an awkward suddenness, he said, " Well, welij

Vol. n.— L

friend Barnaby, we will both forgive and forget I will say nothing of your sleeping soundly at your post, when you have such dangerous prisoners in ward that the governor has thought it necessary to give you a guard; and you, good Barnaby, will say nothing of my having for a moment lost the command of my reason; though, being so sorely bestead, and having but a poor human nature, I think I should not be hardly judged by merciful men/'

" As to forgiving and forgetting, your worship," replied the good-natured fellow, " that I can do as easily as another man, but not from any dread of your tale-bearing; for I think the governor hath sent the guard here partly in consideration of my age and feebleness; and I fear not undue blame. Therefore, not for my own by-ends will I keep close, but that I hold it not neighbourly to speak to another's hurt; and I well know it is but the topmost saints that are always in the exercise of grace. But I marvel, your worship, that ye spote those evil words so glibly: it seemed Uke one casting away stilts, and going on his own feet again."

" All the fault of an ungodly youth, worthy Master Tuttle," replied Sir Philip, rolling up his eyes sanctimoniously; " and he who ensnared my soul, thy miserable prisoner there, is now reaping the Lord's judgments therefor."

" I think it is not profitable," said the simple man, as he led the way out of the prison, " to cast up ludgments at any one; we are all—as your worship has just suddenly and wofully experienced—we are

all liable to falls in this slipprty world ; and I have always thought it a more prudent and Christian part to lend a helping hand to a fallen brother^ than to stand by and laugh at him, or flout him."

Sir Philip hurried away ; every virtuous sentiment fell on his ear like a rebuke. Even in an involuntary comparison of himself with the simple jailer, he felt that genuine goodness, dimmed and sullied though it may be by ignorance and fanaticism, like a good dull guinea, rings true at every trial ; while hypocrisy, though it show a face fair and bright, yet, like a new false coin, betrays at every scratch the base metal.

Perhaps no culprit ever turned his back on a jail with a more thorough conviction that he deserved there to be incarcerated than did Sir Philip. Detection in guilt is said marvellously to enlighten men's consciences: there may be a kindred virtue in disappointment in guilty projects. The kftight had become impatient of his tedious masquerade. He was at first diverted with a new, and, as it seemed to him, a fantastical state of society, and amused at the success with which he played his assumed character. He soon became passionately enamoured of Hope Leslie, and pursued her with a determined, unwavering resolution, that, vacillating as he had always been, astonished himself. In the eagerness of the chase, he underrated the obstacles that opposed him, and, above all, the insuperable obstacle,' the manifest indifference of the young lady, which bis vanity (must we add, his experience) led him to

believe was affectation, whim, or accident; any or all of these might be successfully opposed and overcome. He had tried to probe her feelings in relation to Everell, and, though he was puzzled by the result, and knew not what it meant, he trusted it did not mean love. But if it did, what girl of Hope Leslie's spirit, he asked himself, would remain attached to a drivelling fellow, who, from complaisance to the wishes of prosing old men, had preferred to her such a statue of formality and Puritanism as Esther I>own-ing 1 and, Everell removed, Sir Philip feared no other competitor; for he counted for nothing those gentlemen who might aspire to Miss Leslie's hand, but whose strict obedience to the canons of Puritanism left them, as he thought, few of the qualities that were likely to interest a romantic imagination. For himself, determined not to jeopard his success by wearing his sanctimonious mask to Hope, he played the Aagician with two faces, and to her he was the gay and gallant chevalier; his formality^ his pre-ciseness, and every badge and insignia of the Puritan school were dropped, and he talked of love and poetry like any carpet-knight of those days, or drawing-room lover of our own. But this was a dangerous game to play, and must not be protracted. Some untoward accident might awaken the guardians of the colony from their credulous confidence, and to this danger his wayward page continually exposed 'him.

As our readers are already acquainted with the real character of this unhappy victim of Sir Philip's

profligacy, it only remains to give the few untold circumstances of her brief history. She was the natural child of an English nobleman. Her mother was a distinguished French actress, who, dying soon after her birth, committed the child to some charitable sisters of the order of St. Joseph. Her father, on his death-bed, seized by the pangs of remorse, exacted a promise from his sister, the Lady Lunford, that she would receive the orphan under her protection. The lady performed the promise a la lettre^ and no more. She withdrew the unfortunate Rosa from her safe . asylum, but she kept from her, and from all the world, the secret of their relationship, and made the dependance and desolateness of the poor orphan a broad foundation for her own tyranny. Lady Lunford was a woman of the world—a waning, Rosa, a ripening beauty. Her house was the resort of men of fashion. Sir Philip paid his devotions there, os-tensibly to the noble mistress, but really to the young creature whose melting eyes, naivete, and strong and irfepressible feelings enchanted him. Probably Lady Lunford found the presence of the young beauty inconvenient. She certainly never threw any obstacle in Sir Philip's way; indeed, he afterward cruelly boasted to Rosa that her patroness had persuaded him to receive her; but this was long after: for many months he treated her with the fondest devotion ; and she, poor credulous child, was first awakened from dreams of love and happiness by pangs of jealousy.

From her own confessions. Sir Philip learned how L 2

">

126 HOPE LESLIE.

far she had divulged her sorrows to Hope Leslie, and from that moment he meditated some mode of secretly and suddenly ridding himself of her, and finally determined on the project which, as we have seen, was wofuUy defeated; and he was compelled to retreat from Magawisca's prison with the tormenting apprehension that he might himself fall into the pit he had digged.

Let those who have yet to learn in what happiness consists, and its actual independence of external circumstances, turn from the gifted and accomplished man of the world to the Indian prisoner; from the baflSed tempter to the victorious tempted. •Magawisca could scarcely have been made happier if Everell had achieved her freedom, than she was by the certain knowledge of his interposition for her. The sting of his supposed ingratitude had been her sharpest sorrow. Her affection for Everell Fletcher had the tenderness, the confidence, the sensitiveness of woman's love; but it had nothing of the selfishness, the expectation, or the earthliness of that passion. She had done and suffered much for him, and she.felt that his worth must be the sole requital for her sufierings. She felt, too, that she had received much from him. He had opened the book of knowledge to her ; had given subjects to her contemplative mind beyond the mere perceptions of her senses; had in some measure dissipated the clouds of ignorance that hung over the forest child, and given her glimpses of the past and the distant; but, above all, he had gratified her strong national pride by ad-

mitting the natural equality of all the children of the Great Spirit, and by allowing that it was the knowledge of the Englishman—an accidental superiority—that forced from the uninstructed Indian the exclamation,^^ Manittoo! Matiittoo!" he is a God.

CHAPTER Vn.

** My heart is wondrous light Since this same wa3rward girl is so reclaimed."

Romeo and JutieL

The next morning opened on Boston with that boon to all small societies,* a new topic of interest and conversation. The attempt on the prison the preceding night was in every one's mouth; and as the community had been much agitated concerning the heresies and trial of Gorton and his cqpipany, they did not hesitate to attribute the criminal outrage to some of his secret adherents, who, as the sentence that had passed on the unfortunate man was the next day to take effect, had made this desperate effort to rescue them. It was not even surmised by the popular voice that the bold attempt had been made on account of the Indian woman. The magistrates had very discreetly refrained from disclosing her connexion with state affairs, as every alarm about the rising of the Indians threw the colony, especially the women and children, into a state of the greatest agitation. The imprisonment of Magawisca was therefore looked upon as a transient, prudential, and domiciliary arrangement, to prevent the possibility of any concert between her and the recovered captive. Faith Leslie, who was known to be pining for her Indian friends.

That the governor's secret conclusions were very different from those of the people, was indicated by a private order which he sent to Barnaby Tuttle, to remove the Indian maiden from the upper apartment to the dungeon beneath the prison, but by no means to inflict any other severity on her, or to stint her of any kindness consistent with her safe keeping. Gorton's company were on the same day removed from the prison, and, as is well known to the readers of the chronicles of the times, distributed separately to the towns surrounding Boston, where, notwithstanding they were jealously guarded and watched, they proved dangerous leaven, and were soon afterward transported to England.

Whatever secret suspicions the governor entertained in relation to Everell Fletcher, his kind feelings, and the delicate relation in which he stood to that young man, as the son of his dearest friend and the betrothed husband of his niece, induced him to keep them within his own bosom, without even intimating them to his partners in authority, who, he well knew, whatever infirmities they, frail men, might have of their own, were seldom guilty of winkmg at those of others.

But to return to our heroine, whom we left convalescing ; the energies of a youthful and unimpair ed constitution, and the unwearied care of her gentle nurse, restored her, in the space of two days, to such a degree of strength that she was able to join the family m the parlour at their evening meal, to which we cannot give the convenient designation of

" tea," as Asia had not yet supplied us with this best of all her aromatic luxuries.

Hope entered the pai^our leaning on Esther's arm. All rose to welcome her, and to offer their congratulations, more or less formal, on her preservation and recovery. Everell advanced with the rest, and essayed to speak, but his voice failed him. Hope, with natural frankness, gave him her hand, and all the blood in her heart seemed to gush into her pale cheeks, but neither did she speak. In the general movement, their reciprocal emotion passed unobserved excepting by Esther; she noted it After the meal was finished, and the governor had returned thanks, in which he Inserted a clause expressive of the general gratitude " for the mercies that had been vouchsafed to the maiden near and dear to many present, in that she had been led safely through perils by water, by land, and by sickness," Madam Winthrop kindly insisted that Hope should occupy her easy chair; but Hope declined the honour, and, seating herself on the window-seat, motioned to her sister to come and sit by her. The poor girl obeyed, but without any apparent interest, and without even seeming conscious of the endearing tenderness vrith which Hope stroked back her hair and kissed her cheek. " What shall we do with this poor home-sick child ?" she asked, appealing to her guardian.

" In truth, I know not," he replied. " All day and all night, they tell me, she goes from window tc window, like an imprisoned bird fluttering against

the bars of its cage; and so wistfully she looks abroad, as if her heart went forth with the glance of her eye."

" I have done my best," said Mrs. Grafton, now joining in the conversation, " to please her, but it's all working for nothing, and no thanks. In the first place, I gave her all her old playthings that you saved so carefully, Hope, and shed so many tears over, and at first they did seem to pleasure her. She looked them over and over, and I could see by the changes of her countenance, as she took up one and another, that some glimmering of past times came over her; but, as ill luck would have it, there was among the rest, in a little basket, a string of bird's eggs, which Oneco had given her at Bethel. I remembered it well, and so did she; for, as soon as she saw it, she dropped everything else, and burst into tears."

" Poor 'child!" said Mr. Fletcher; " these early affections are deeply rooted." Everell, who stood by his father, turned and walked to the other extremity of the apartment, and Hope involuntarily passed her hand hastily over her brow; as she did so, she looked up and saw Esther's eye fixed on her. l^allying her spirits," I am weak yet, Esther," she said," and this sudden change from our still room confuses me." Mrs. Grafton did not mark this little interlude, and, replying to Mr. Fletcher's last observation," Poor child ! do you call her ? I call it sheer foolishness. Her early affections, indeed! you seem to forget she had other and earlier than for that Indian boy; but

this seems to be the one weed that has choked all the rest. Hope, my dear, you have no idea what a non compos mentis she has got to be. I showed her all my earrings, and gave her her choice of all but the diamonds that are promised for your wedding gift, dearie, you know, and, do you think, she scarcely looked at them? while she wonH let me touch those horrid blue glass things she wears, that look so like the tawnies, it makes me all of a nerve to see them. And then, just look for yourself: though I have dressed her up in that beautiful Lyons silk of yours, with the Dresden tucker, she will—this warm weather, too—^keep oh her Indian mantle in that blankety fashion."

" Well, my dear aunt, why not indulge her for the present ? I suppose she has the feeling of the natives, who seem to have an almost superstitious attachment to that Oriental costume."

" Oriental fiddlestick! you talk like a simpleton, Hope. I suppose you would let her wear that string of all-coloured shells round her neck, would you not," she asked, drawing aside Faith's mantle, and showing the savage ornament," instead of that beautiful rainbow necklace of mine, which I have offered to her in place of it ?"

" If you ask me seriously, aunt, I certainly would,, if she prefers it."

" Now that is pecuUar of you, Hope. Why, Miss Esther Downing, mine is a string of stones that go by sevens: yellow, topaz—orange, onyx—^red, ruby —and so on, and so on. Master Cradock wrote the

definitions of them all out of a Latin book for me once; and yet, though it is such a peculiar beauty, that silly child will not give up those horrid shells for it. Now," she continued, turning to Faith, and putting her hand on the necklace, " now, that's a good girl, let me take it off."

Faith understood her action, though not her words, and she laid her own hand on the necklace, and looked as if obstinately determined it should not be removed.

Hope perceived there was something attached to the necklace, and on a closer inspection, which her position enabled her to make, she saw it was a crucifix ; and dreading lest her sister should be exposed to a new source of persecution, she interposed: " Let her have her own way at present, Ipray you, aunt; she may have some reason for preferring those shells that we do not know; and if she has not, I see no great harm in her preferring bright shells to bright stones; at any rate, for the present, we had best leave her to herself, and say nothing at all to her about her dress or ornaments."

" Well—very well; take your own way. Miss Hope Leslie."

Hope smiled : " Nay, aunt," she said, " I cannot be Miss Hope Leslie till I get quite well again."

" Oh, dearie, I meant nothing, you know," said the good lady, whose displeasure never held out against one of her niece's smiles. " If Miss Esther Downing," she added, lowering her voice," had told me to say nothing of dress and ornaments, I should

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not have been surprised; but it is an unheard-of simpleness for you, Hope. Dress and ornaments! they are the most likely things in the world to take the mind off from trouble. Till I came to this new English colony, where everything seems, as it were, topsy-turvy, I never saw that woman whose mind could not be diverted by dress and ornaments."

" You strangely dishonour your memory. Mistress Grafton, or Hope's noble mother," said the elder Fletcher; " methinks I have often heard you say that Alice Fletcher had no taste for these vanities."

" No, you never heard me say that, Mr. Fletcher. Vanities! no, never, the longest day I had to live; for I never called them vanities—no; I did say Alice always went as plain as a pike-staff after you left England ; and a great pity it was, I always thought; for, when Queen Henrietta came from France, we had such a world of beautifiil new fashions, it would have cured Alice of moping if she would have given her mind to it. There was my Lady Penyvere, how different it was with her after her losses: let's see—her husband, and her son Edward, heir to the estate, and her daughter-in-law—that was not so much, but we'll count her—and Ulrica, her own daughter, all died in one week; and, for an aggravation, her coachman, horses, coach, and all, went off London Bridge, and all were drowned—^killed— smashed to death; and yet, in less than a week, my lady gave orders for every suit of mourning; and that is the great use of wearing mourning, as she said : it takes the mind off from trouble."

>

Hope felt, and her quick eye saw, that her aunt was running on sadly at her own expense ; and, to produce an effect similar to the painter, when, by his happy art, he shifts his lights, throwing defects into shadow, and bringing out beauties, she said, " You are very little like your friend Lady Penyvere, dear aunt; for I am certain, if, as you feared, I had lost my life the other day, all the mournbg in the king's realm would not have turned your thoughts from trouble."

" No, that's true—that's very true, dearie," replied the good lady, snuffling, and wiping away the tears that had gathered at the bare thought of the evil that had threatened her. " No, Hope; touch you, touch my life; but then," she added, lowering her voice for Hope's ear only," I can't bear to have you give in to this outcry against dress; we have preaching and prophesying enough, the Lord knows, without your taking it up."

Lights were now ordered, and, after the bustle made by the ladies drawing around the table and arranging their work was over, Governor Winthrop said, " If your strength is equal to the task. Miss Leslie, we would gladly hear the particulars of your marvellous escape, of which Esther has been able to give us but a slight sketch—though enough to make us all admire at the wonderful Providence that brought you safely through."

The elder Fletcher, really apprehensive for Hope's health, and still inore apprehensive that she might, in her fearless frankness, discredit herself with the

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136 HOPE LESLIE.

governor by disclosing all ^e particulars of her late experience, which he had already heard from her lips, and permitted to pass uncensured, interposed, and hoped to avert the evil by begging that the relation might be deferred. But Hope insisted that she felt perfectly well, and began by saying," She doubted not her kind friends had made every allowance for the trouble she had occasioned them. She was conscious that much evil had proceeded from the rash promise of secrecy she had given.". She forbore to name Magawisca on her sister's account, who was still sitting by her; the governor, by a significant nod, expressed that he comprehended her; and she went on to say " That she trusted she had been forgiven for that, and for all the petulant and childish conduct of the week that followed it I scarcely recollect anything of those days, that then seemed to me interminable," she said," but that I tried to mask my troubled spirit with a laughing face, and, in spite of all my efforts, I was rather cross than gay. I believe. Madam Winthrop, I called forth your censure, and I pray you to forgive me for not taking it patiently and thankfully, as I ought"

Madam Winthrop, all astonishment at Hope's exemplary humility and deference—graces she had not appeared to abound in—assured her, with unassumed kindness, that she had her cordial forgiveness; though, indeed, she was pleased to say, " Hope's explanation left her little to forgive."

" And you, sir," said Hope, turaing to the governor, " you, I trust, will pardon me for selecting your garden for a secret rendezvous." •

•* Indeed, Hope Leslie, I could pardon a much heavier transgression in one so young as thee, and one who seems to have, so hopeful a sense of error," replied the governor; while the good-will beaming in his benevolent face showed how much more accordant kindness was with his nature than the austere reproof which he so often believed the letter of his duty required from him.

**Then you all—^all forgive me, do you not?" Hope asked ; and, glancing her eye around the room, it involuntarily rested for a moment on Everell. All but Everell, who did not speak, were warm'in their assurances that they had nothing to forgive; and the elder Fletcher tenderly pressed her hand, sepretly rejoicing that her graceful humility enabled her to start with her story from vantage ground.

" I did not see you, I believe, Esther," continued Hope, " after we parted at Digby's cottage ?"

" Speak a trifle louder, if you please. Miss Leslie," said the governor. Hope was herself conscious that her voice had faltered at the recollection of the definitive scene in Digby's cottage, and, making a new effort, she said, in a firmer and more cheerful tone, " You, Esther, were happily occupied. I was persecuted by Sir Philip Gardiner, whose ungentleman-ly interference in my concerns will, I trust, relieve me from his society in future."

" Pardon me. Miss Leslie," said the governor, interrupting Hope J " our friend Sir Philip hath deserved your thanks rather than your censure. There are, as you well know, duties paramount to the M 2

r

courtesies of a gentleman, which are, for the most part, but a vain show—mere dress and decoration f and he vouchsafed a smile as he quoted the words of Mrs. Grafton : " Sir Philip believed he was consulting your happiness when he took measures to recover your sister, which your promise forbade your taking."

" Sir Philip strangely mistakes me," replied Hope, *' if he thinks anything could console me for apparently betraying one who trusted me to sorrowAil, fearful imprisonment."

There was a pause, during which Mrs. Winthrop whispered to Esther, "Then she knows all about it?'

" Yes; she would not rest till she heard all."

Hope proceeded. " I believe I am not yet strong enough to speak on this point." She then went on to narrate circumstantially all that took place after she was parted from Magawisca till she came to Antonio. Cradock, when she began, had laid aside a little Greek book over which he was conning, and had, at every new period of her relation, given his chair a hitch towards her, till he sat directly before her, on the edge of his chair, his knees pressed close together, and his palms resting upright on them, his head stooped forward so as to be at right angles with his body, and his parting Ups creeping roimd to his ears with an expression erf complacent wonder. Thus he sat and looked while Hope described her polite acquiescence in Antonio's error, and repeated her first reply to him in Italian. At this the old man threw his head back, and burst into a peal

\

of laughter that resembled the neighing of a horse more than any human sound; and, as soon as he could recover his voice, " Did I not teach her the tongues ?" he asked, with a vehement gesture to the company; " did I not teach her the tongues ?"

"Indeed you did, kind Master Cradock," said Hope, laying her hand on his, " and many a weary hour it cost you."

" Never—never one; thou wert always a marvellous quick-witted damsel." He then resumed his seat asd his former attitude, and, closing his eyes, said, in his usual low, deliberate tone, " I bless the Lord that the flower and beauty of my youth were spent in Padua, a poor blind worm that I am: I deemed it a loss, but it hath saved her most precious and sweet life." And here he burst into a paroxysm of tears and sobbing almost as violent as his laughter had been: his organs seemed moved by springs, which, if touched by an emotion, were quite beyond ' his control, and only ceased their operation when their mechanical force was exhausted.

Hope had little more to relate: she prudently suppressed the private concerns of Sir Philip's page, and attributed their accidental meeting to his having come abroad, as in truth he had, in quest of his master. "When she had finished, the governor said, "Thou hast indeed been brought through many dangers, Hope Leslie; delivered from the hand of thy strong enemy, and thy feet made like hinds' feet; and I joy to say that thy experience of the Lord's mercies seemeth to have wrought a becoming

sobriety in thee. I would fain pass over that last passage in thy evening's adventures without remark, but duty bids me say thou didst err lamentably in permitting, for a moment, the idol-worship of that darkened, papistical youth.",

" Worship, sir!" said Hope; " I did not esteem it worship; I thought it merely an affectionate address to one who—and I hope I erred not in that— might not have been a great deal better than myself/'

" I think she erred not greatly," said Mr.^letch-er, who at this moment felt too tenderly for Hope patiently to hear her rebuked; " the best Catholic doctors put this interpretation on the invocations to saints."

" Granted," replied the governor ; " but did she right to deepen and strengthen the superstition of the Romish sailor ?"

" It does not appear to me," said Mr. Fletcher, " that it was a seasonable moment for meddling with his superstitions. We do not read that Paul rebuked the Melitans, even when they said he was a , god." This was but negative authority; but, while the governor hesitated how he should answer it, Mr. Fletcher turned to Esther: " Miss Downing," he said, " thou art the pattern maiden of the Commonwealth : in Hope's condition, wouldst thou have acted differently ? Out of thy mouth she shall be justified or condemned."

" Speak, dear Esther," said Hope; " why do yoi heatate ? If I were to choose an external conscience.

^

you should be my rule; though I think the stem monitor could never be imbodied in so gentle a form. Now tell us, Esther, what would you have done ?"

" What I should have done, if left to my own strength, I know not," replied Elsther, speaking reluctantly.

" Then, Esther, I will put the question in a form to spare your humility: I will not ask what you would have done, but what I ought to have done." Esther's strictness was a submission to duty; and it cost her an effort to say, "I would rather, Hope, thou hadst trusted thyself wholly to that Providence that had so wonderfully wrought for thee thus far." "I believe you are quite right, Esther," said Hope, who was disposed to acquiesce in whatever her friend said^ and glad to escape from any farther discussion, and, moreover, anxious to avert Esther's observation from Everell, who, during the conversation, had.been.walking the room, his arms folded, to and fro, but had narrowly watched Esther du-rmg this appeal, and, when she announced her opinion, had turned disappointed away.

Mrs. Grafton now arose with a trifling apparent vexation, and, taking Faith by the arm, she signified her intention to retire to her own apartment. While crossbg the room, she said, ^^ It is not often I quote Scripture, as you all know; because, as I have said before, I hold a text from Scripture or a sample of chints to be a deceptive kind of specimen; but I must say now, that I think the case of David, in eat-

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142 HOPE LESLIE.

ing the shew-bread instead of looking for manna, upholds Hope Leslie in using the means the Lord chose to place in her hands."

Having the last word is one of the tokens of victory, and the good lady, content with this, withdrew from the field of discussion. Governor Winthrop retired to his study. Hope followed him thither, and begged a few moments' audience, which was, of course, readily granted. When the door was closed, and he had seated himself, and placed a large armchair for her, all the tranquillity which she had just before so well sustained forsook her; she sunk, trembling, on her knees, and was compelled to rest her forehead on the governor's knee; he laid his hand kindly on her head: " What does this mean ?" he asked; " I like it not, and it is not fitting that any one should kneel in my house but for a holy purpose: rise, Hope Leslie, and explain yourself; rise, my child," he added, in a softened tone, for his heart was touched with her distress; " tyrants are knelt to, and I trust I am none."

"No, indeed you are not," she rephed,rising and clasping her hands in earnest supplication; ^^ and therefore I hope—nay, I believe—^you will grant my petition for our poor Indian friend."

« Well, be calm; what of her ?"

" What of her! Is she not, the generous crea ture, at this moment in your condemned dungeon ?, Is she not to be tried to-morrow, perhaps sentenced to death ? and can I, the cause of bringing her into this trouble, can I look calmly on ?"

"Well, what would •you have,, young lady?*' asked the governor, in a quiet manner, that damped our herome's hopes, though it did not abate her ar-dour.

" I would have your warrant, sir," she replied, boldly, "for her release; her free passage to her poor old father, if indeed he lives."

" You speak unadvisedly. Miss Leslie. I am no king; and I trust the Lord will never send one in wrath on his chosen people of the New World, as he did 6n those of old. No, in truth, I am no king. I have but one voice in the Commonwealth, and I cannot grant pardons at pleasure; and, besides, on what do you found your plea ?"

" On what!" exclaimed Hope. " On her merits and rights."

" Methinks, my young friend, you have lost right suddenly that humble tone that but now, in the parlour, graced you so well. I.trusted that your light afflictions and short sickness had tended to the edification of your spirit."

" I spoke then of myself, and humiUty became me; but surely you will permit me to speak courageously of the noble Magawisca."

" There is some touch of reason in thy speech, Hope Lesjie," replied the governor, his lips almost relaxing to a smile. " Sit down, child, and tell me of these merits and rights, for I would be possessed of everything in favour of this unhappy maiden."

" I have not to tell you, sir," said Hope, struggling to speak in a dispassionate tone, " but only to

remind you of what you w^e once the first to speak of—the many obligations of the English to the family of Mononotto : a debt that has been but ill paid."

" That debt, I think, was cancelled by the dreadful massacre at Bethel.'*

" If it be so, there is another debt that never has been, that scarce can be cancelled."

" Yes, I know to what you allude : it was a noble action for a heathen savage; and I marvel not that my friend Fletcher should think it a title to our mercy, or that young Mr. Everell, looking with a youthful eye on this business, should deem it a claim on our justice. They have both spoken much and often to me, and it were well if Everell Fletcher were content to leave this matter with those who have the right to determine it." Hope perceived the governor looked very signifi[cantly, and she apprehended that he might think her intercession was instigated by Everell.

" I have not seen Everell Fletcher," she said," till this evening, since we parted at the garden; and you will do both him and me the justice to believe I have not now spoken at his bidding."

^^ I did not think it. I know thou art ever somewhat forward to speak the dictates of thy heart," he continued, with a smile; " but now let me caution you both, especially Everell, not to stir in this matter ; any private interference will but prejudice the Pequod's cause. They have ever been a hateful race to the jEnglish; and as the old chief and his daughter are accusedi and I fear justly, of kindling

the enmity of the tribes against us, land attempting to stir up a war that would lay our villages in ruins, it will be difficult to make a private benefit outweigh such a pubUc crime. At any rate, the prisoner must be tried for her life ; afterward we may consider if it be possible and suitable to grant her a pardon.*^ Hope rose to withdraw: the sanguine hopes that had sustained her were abated; her limbs trembled, and her lips quivered as she turned to say ** good-nighf The governor took her hand, and said compassionately, ^^ Be not thus disquieted, my child; cast thy care upon the Lord. He can bring light out of this darkness."

" And He alone," she thought, as she slowly crept to her room. A favourite from her birth, Hope had been accustomed to the gratification of her wishes; innocent and moderate they had been; but uniform indulgence is not a favourable school, and our heroine had now to learn, from that stern teacher, experience, that events and circumstances cannot be moulded to individual wishes. She must sit down and passively await the fate of Magawisca. ^^ She had done all she could do, and without any effect: had she done all ?" While she still meditated on this last clause of her thoughts, Esther entered the room. Absorbed in her own revery, Hope did not, at first, particularly notice her friend, and when she did, she saw that she appeared much disturbed. Esther, after opening and shutting drawers and cupboards, and seeking by these little devices to conceal or subdue her agitation, found all unavailing.

Vol. n.— N

and, throwiDg herself in a chair, she gave \¥ay to hysterical sobbings.

This, in almost any young lady, would have been a common expression of romantic distress; but in the disciplined, circumspect Esther, uncontrolled emotion was as alarming, to compare small things to great, as if a planet were to start from its orbit

Hope hastened to her, and, folding her arms around her tenderly, mquired what could thus distress her, Esther disengaged herself from her friend, and turned her face from her.

" I cannot bear this,'* said Hope; " I can bear anything better than this: are you displeased with me, Esther?"

" Yes, I am displeased with you—with myself— with everybody : I am miserable."

" What do you mean, Esther 1 I have done nothing to offend you; for pity's sake tell me what you mean 1 I have never had a feeling or thought that should offend you."

" You have most cruelly, fatally injured me, Hope Leslie."

" Here is some wretched mistake," cried Hope; " for Heaven's sake explain, Esther: if I had injured you knowingly, I should be of all creatures most guilty; but I have not. If I have innocently injured you, speak, my dear friend, I beseech you," she added, again putting her arm around Esther; " have not you yourself, a thousand times, said there should be no disguises with friends—no untold suspicions—^no unexplained mysteries 1"

Again Esther repressed Hope. *^ I have been un« fairly dealt by," she said. " I have been treated as a child.''

"How—when—^where—^by whom?" demanded Hope, impetuously.

** Ask me no questions now, Hope. I will answer none. I will no longer be played upon."

" Oh, Esther, you are cruel," said Hope, bursting into tears. " You are the one friend that I have loved gratefully, devotedly, disinterestedly, and I cannot bear this."

There was a pause of half an hour, during which Esther sat with her face covered with her handkerchief, and sobbing violently, while Hope walked up and down the room, her tender heart penetrated to the very core with sorrow, and her mind perplexed with endless conjectures about the cause of her friend's emotions.

She sometimes approached near the truth, but that way she could not bear to look. At last Esther became quiet, and Hope ventured once more to approach her, and leaned over her without speaking. Esther rose from her chair, knelt down, and drew Hope down beside her, and in a low, but perfectly firm voice, supplicated for grace to resist engrossing passion and selfish affections. She prayed they might both be assflfed from above, so that their mutual forgiveness and mutual love might be perfected, and issue in a friendship which should be a foretaste of Heaven. She then rose and folded her arms around her firiend,. saying," I have given way to my sinful

nature, but I feel already an earnest of returmng peace. Do not say anything to me now, Hope; the future will explain all."

There was an authority in her manner that Hope could not, and did not wish to resist. " If you speak to me so, Esther," she said," I would obey you, even though it were possible obedience should be more difficult. Now we will go to bed, and forget^ this wearisome evening; but first kiss me, and tell me you love me as well as ever."

" I do," she replied; but her voice faltered; and, governed by the strictest law of truth, she changed her form of expression : '^ I mean that I shall again love you as well—^I trust, better than ever 5 be content with this for the present, Hope, and try me no farther."

Once, while they were undressing, Esther said, but without any emotion in her voice—^her face was averted from Hope— '^ Everell has been proposing to me to assist him in a clandestine attempt to get Mag-awisca out of prison."

"To get her out!" exclaimed Hope, with the greatest animation: " to-night ?"

" To-night or to-morrow night."

" And is there any hope of effecting it ?"

" I thought it not right for me to undertake it,'* Esther replied, in the same tone, quite#alm, but so deliberate that Hope detected the effort with which she spoke, and dared not venture another question.

They both went to bed, but not to sleep; mutual and secret anxieties kept them for a long time rest*

s

less, and a strange feeling of embarrassment, as distant as the width of their bed would allow; but, finally, Hope, as if she could no longer bear this estrangement, nestled close to Esther, folded her arms around her, and fell asleep on her bosom.

Madam Winthrop had very considerately, in the course of the evening, left Everell and her niece alone together; and he had availed himself of this first opportunity of private communication to inform her that, after being frustrated in all his efforts for Mag-awisca's rescue, he had at length devised a plan which only wanted her co-operation to ensure it success. Her agency would certainly, he believed, not be detected; and, at any rate, could not involve her in any disagreeable consequences.

" Any consequences to herself," Esther said," she would not fear." Everell assured her that he was certain she would not; but he was anxious she should see he would not expose her to any, even to attain an object for which he would risk or sacrifice his own life. He then went on eagerly to detail his plan of operations, till Esther summoned courage to interrupt him. Perhaps there is not on earth a more difficult duty than for a woman to place herself in a disagreeable light before the man she truly loves. Esther's affections were deep, fixed, and unpretending, capable of any effort or any sacrifice that was not proscribed by religious loyalty; but no earthly consideration could have tempted her to waver from the strictest letter of her religious duty, as that duty was interpreted by her conscience. It cost her se-N 2

vere struggles; but, after several intimations which Everell did not understand, she constrained herself to say, " That she thought they had not Scripture warrant for interfering between the prisoner and the magistrates."

" Scripture warrant!" exclaimed Everell, with surprise and vexation he could not conceal. ^^ And are you to do no act of mercy, or compassion, or justice, for which you cannot quote a text from Scripture 1"

" Scripture hath abundant texts to authorize all mercy, compassion, and justice, but we are not always the allowed judges of their application; and in the case before us we have an express rule, to which, if we submit, we cannot err; for thou well knowe&t, Everell, we are commanded, in .the first epistle of Peter, second chapter, to * Submit ourselves to every ordinance of man, for the Lord^s sake: whether it be to the kmg, as supreme ; or imto governors, as unto them that are sent by him for the punishment of evil doers, and for the praise of them that do well.'"

" But surely, Esther, there must be warrant, as you call it, for sometimes resisting legitimate authority, or all our friends in England would not be at open war with their king. With such a precedent, I should think the sternest conscience would permit you to obey the generous impulses of nature, rather than to render this slavish obedience to the letter of the law."

" Oh, Everell! do not seek to blind my judgment Our friends at home are men who do all things in

the fear of the Lord, and are, therefore, doubtless guided by the light of Scripture and the inward testimony. But they cannot be a rule for us in any measure; and for me, Everell, it would be to sin presumptuously, to do aught in any way to countervail the authority of those chosen servants of the Lord whose magistracy we are privileged to live under." •

Everell tried all argument and persuasion to subdue her scruples, but in vain; she had some text or some unquestioned rule of duty to oppose to every reason and entreaty.

To an ardent young man, there is something unlovely, if not revolting, in the sterner virtues, aid particulscrly when they oppose those objects which he may feel to be authorized by the most generous emotions of his heajt. Everell did not mean to be unjust to Esther—his words were measured and loyal —but he felt a deep conviction that there was a painful discord between them ; that there was, to use the modern German term, no elective affinity. In the course of their conversation, he said, " You would not, you could not, thus resist my wishes if you knew Magawisca."

" Everell," she replied," those who love you need not know this maiden to feel that they would save her life at the expense of their own, if they might do it;" and then, blushing at what she feared might seem an empty boast, she added, " but I do know Magawisca; I have visited her in her prison every day since she has been there."

" Grod bless you for that, Esther 5 but "why did you not tell me V^

" Because my uncle only permitted me access to her on condition that I kept it a secret from you."

^^ Methinks that prohibition was as useless as cruel."

"No, Everell; my uncle doubtless anticipated such applications as you have made to-night, and he was right to guard me from temptation."

" He might securely have trusted you to resist it," thought Everell. But he tried to suppress the un-idnd feeling, and asked Esther " if she had any motive in visiting Magawisca thus often, beyond the gmtification of her compassionate disposition."

" Yes," replied Esther; " I heard ray uncle say, that if Magawisca could be induced to renounce her heathenish principles, and promise, instead of following her father to the forest, to remain here and join the catechized Indians, he thought the magistrates might see it to be their duty to overlook her past misdemeanours, and grant her Christian privileges." Esther paused for a moment, but Everell made no comment, and she proceeded, in a tone of the deepest humility : " I knew I was a poor instrument, but I hoped a blessing on the prayer of faith and the labour of love. I set before her her temporal and her eternal interest—^life and death. I prayed with her—I exhorted her; but oh! Everell, she is obdurate ; she neither fears death, nor will believe that eternal misery awaits her after death !"

To Esther's astonishment, Everell, though he

looked troubled, neither expressed surprise nor disappointment at the result of her labours, but immediately set before her the obvious inference from it. " You see, yourself,'' he said, " by your own experience, there is but one way of aiding Magawisca,"

" It is unkind of you, Everell," she replied, with a trembling voice, " to press me farther; that way, you know, my path is hedged up;" and, without saying anything more, she abruptly left the room; but she had scarcely passed the threshold of the door, when her gentle heart reproached her with harshness, and she turned to soften her final refusal. Everell did not hear her returning footsteps; he stood with his back to the door, and Esther heard him make this involuntary apostrophe : ^^ Oh, Hope Leslie! how thy unfettered soul would have answered such an appeal! why has fate cruelly severed us ?"

Esther escaped hastily, and without his observation ; and the scene already described in the apartment of the young ladies ensued.

Everell Fletcher must not be reproached with being a disloyal knight. The artifices of Sir Philip Gardiner; the false light in which our heroine had been placed by her embarrassments with Magawis-ca; the innocent manoeuvring of Madam Winthrop; and, finally, the generous rashness of Hope Leslie, had led him, step by step, to involve himself in an engagement with Miss Downing; that engagement had just been made known to her protectors, and ratified by them, when the denouement of the mys-

terious rendezvous at the garden explained his fatal mistake. When he recurred to all that had passed since his first meeting with Hope Leslie, and particularly to their last interview at the garden, when he had imputed her imcontroUable emotion to her sensibility in relation to Sir Philip, he had reason to be-Ueve he was beloved by the only being he had ever loved. But in what cruel circumstance did this discovery find him ! His troth plighted to one whose pure and tender heart he had long possessed. There was but one honourable course for him to pursue,' and on that he firmly resolved: to avoid the presence of Hope Leslie; to break the chain of aifectioD wrought in youth and riveted in manhood, and whose links seemed to him to encompass and sustain his very life; in fine, to forget the past: but, alas! who can convert to Lethe the sweetest draughts of memory ?

Hope's dangerous illness had suspended all his purposes; he ^ould not disguise his interest; and, indeed, its manifestations excited neither surprise nor remark, for it seemed sufficiently accounted for by their long and intimate association. While Hope's life was in peril, even Magawisca was forgotten ; but the moment Hope's convalescence restored the use of his faculties, they were all devoted to obtaining Magawisca's release, and he had left no means untried, either of open intercession or clandestine eflfort; but all, as yet, was without effect*

\\

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HOPE LESLIE. 155

CHAPTER Vm.

" What trick, what device, what starting hole canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent shame ?"— Henry TV,

The day appointed for Magawisca's trial arose on Boston one of the brightest and most beautiful of summer. There are moments of deep dejection and gloom in every one's experience, when the eye closes against the beauty of light, when the silence of all those great powers that surround us presses on the soul like the indifference of a friend, and when their evolving glories overpower the wearied spirit, as the splendours of the sun offend the sick eye. In this diseased state of mind, Everell wandered about Boston till the ringing of the bell, the appointed signal, gave notice that the court was about to open for the trial of the Indian prisoner. He then turned Ms footsteps towards the house where the sittings of the magistrates were held; and on reaching it, he found a crowd had already assembled in the room assigned for the trial.

At one extremity of the apartment was a platform of two or three feet elevation, on which sat the deputies and magistrates who coi^tuted the court, and those elders who had, as was customary on similar occasions, been invited to be present as advisory counsel. The New-England people have always

evinced a fondness for asking advice, which ma>, perhaps, be explained by the freedom with which it is rejected. A few seats were provided for those who might have claims to be selected from the ordi-nary spectators; two of these were occupied by the elder Fletcher and Sir Philip Gardiner. EvereU re-mained amid the multitude unnoticed and unnoti-oing, his eye roving about in that vague and inex-pressive manner that indicates the mind holds no com-munion with external objects, till he was roused by u buzz of " There she comes!" and a call of « Make room for the prisoner.'' A lane was opened, and Magawisca j^jpeared, preceded and followed by a coustable. A man of middle age walked beside her, whose deep-set and thoughtful eye^ pale brow os^-etic complexion, and spare person, indicated a Hfe yyi ^it^en^ and of phyacal and mental labour-while an exprefision of love, compasson, and benev-v^ience seemed, like the seal of his Creator, aflixed •u dt\:lare him a minister of mercy to his creatures. Kvtujil wa* struck with the aiq>ect and position of -«H^ sirau|(er, and inquired of the person standing ■ iv-\i lu luui *' who he was.''

t'hv mail curued on him a look of astcmishment ^v;uv^ cx^H^wsed, - Who are you that ask so strange I iuww.iv>a .'*' uud replied, "That gentlonan, ar, is tkv' ■ >i^**^*? ^u New-tlwj'*'"''' though it much of-oux;c«iU !»teL iu^^i^sty ^ be :^ called.''

*.»\v .v jHc**s<\i :■' thoujiCb^ EverelL **EIiot"(for v ^^u.v .uLu^ut wKh the title* though not with the \».^a .* tuiiii ^x^euc maii)>'^™y ^^^'^^^fi^fiod'

" I marvel," continued his informant, " that Mr. £liot should in this manner lend his countenance to this Jezel^. See with what an air she comes among herbetters^ as if she were queen of us all."

There was certainly none of the culprit or suiter in the aspect of Magawisca: neither guilt, nor fear-fulness, nor submission. Her eyes were downcast, Ifet with the modesty of her sex; her erect attitude, her free and lofly tread, and the perfect composure of her countenance, all expressed the courage and dignity of her soul. Her national pride was manifest in the care with which, after rejecting with disdain the governor's offer of an English dress, she had attired herself in the peculiar costume of her people. Her collar, bracelet, girdle, embroidered moccasins, and purple mantle, with its rich border of bead work, ^ had been laid aside in prison, but were now all resumed, and displayed with ia feeling resembling Nelson's, when he emblazoned himself with stars and orders to appear before his enemies on the fatal day of his last battle.

The constable led her to the prisoner's bar. There was a slight convulsion of her face perceptible- as she entered it; and when her attendant signed to her to seat herself, she shook her head, and remained standing. Everell, moved by an irresistible impulse, forced his way through the crowd, and placed himself beside her. Neither spoke; but the sudden flush of a sunbesgp on the October leaf is not more bright nor beautiful than the colour that overspread Maga-wisca's olive cheek. This speaking suffusion, and

Vol. n.— O

ominous shake of the head; ^^ but Brother Eliot hath an overweening kindness towards the barbarians. We shall set all right," he added, with one of those sagacious nods so expressive of infallibility. The governor now proceeded to give an outline of the charges against Magawisca, and the testimony that would be adduced to support them. He suppressed nothing, but gave a colour to the whole which plainly indicated his own favourable disposition; and Everell felt lightened of half his fears. Sir Philip was then requested to relate the circumstances that had, through his instrumentality, led to the taking of the prisoner, and so much of the conversation he had heard between her and Miss Leslie as might serve to elucidate the testimony of the Indian, who had pretended, by his information, to reveal a direful conspiracy. Sir Philip rose; and Magawisca, for the first time, raised her eyes and fixed them on him; his met hers, and he quailed before her glance. As if to test the power of conscience still farther, at this critical moment his unhappy page, poor Rosa, pressed through the crowd, and, giving Sir Philip a packet of letters just arrived from England, she seated herself on the steps of the platform near where the knight stood.

Sir Philip threw the packet on the table before the governor, and stood for a few moments silent, with his eyes downcast, in profound meditation. The trial was assuming an unexpected and startling aspect. Sir Philip now feared he had counted too far on the popular prejudices, which he knew were arrayed

against Magawisca, as one of the diabolical race of the Pequods, He perceived that all the weight of Eliot's influence would be thrown into the prisoner's scale^ and that the governor was disposed, not only to an impartial, but to a merciful investigation of her case.

Reposmg confidently on the extraordinary fevour that had been manifested towards him by the magistrates, he had felt certain of being able to prevent Magawisca's disclosure of their interview in the prison, or to avert any evil consequence to himself, by giving it the air of a malignant contrivance, to be expected from a vengeful savage, against one who had been the providential instrument of her detection. But he now felt that this might be a difficult task.

He had at first, as has been seen, enlisted against Magawisca^ not from any mahgnant feeling towards her, but merely to advance his own private interests. In the progress of the affair, his fate had, by his own act, become singularly involved with hers. Should she be acquitted, he might be impeached, perhaps exposed and condemned, by her testimony. Alliances like his with Rosa were, by the laws of the colony, pimished by severe penalties. These would be aggravated by the discovery of his imposture. At once perceiving all his danger, he mentally cursed the foolhardiness with which he had rushed, unnecessarily and unwittingly, to the brink of a precipice.

He had observed Magawisca's scrutinizing eye turn quickly from him to Rosa, and he wtis sure, £x>m her intelligent glances, that she had at once O 2

come to the conclusion that this seeming page Mras the subject of their prison interview. Rosa herself appeared, to his alarmed imagination, to be sent by Heaven as a witness against him. How was he to ^cape the dangers that encompassed him ? He had no time to deliberate on the most prudent course to be pursued. The most obvious was to inflame the prejudices of Magawisca's judges, and by anticipation to discredit her testimony; and quick of invention, and unembarrassed by the instincts of humanity, he proceeded, after faithfully relating the conversation in the churchyard between the prisoner and Miss Leslie, to detail the following gratuitous particulars.

He said " that, after conducting Miss Leslie to the governor's door, he had immediately returned to his own lodgings, and that, induced by the still raging storm to make his walk as short as possible, he took a cross-cut through the burial ground 3 that, on coming near the upper extremity of the enclosure, he fancied he heard a human voice mingling with the din of the storm; that he paused, and directly a flash of lightning discovered Magawisca kneeling on the bare wet earth, making those monstrous and violent contortions, which all who heard him well knew characterized the devil-worship of the powwows; he would not, he ought not repeat .to Christian ears her invocations to the Evil One to aid her in the execution of her revenge on the English; nor would he more pnrticularly describe her diabolical writhings and beatings of her person. His brethren might

easily imagine his emotions at witnessing them by the sulphureous gleams of lightning, on which, doubtless, her prayers were sped.''

Sir Philip had gained confidence as he proceeded in his testimony, for he perceived by the fearful and angry glances that were cast on the prisoner, that his tale was credited by many of his audience, and he hoped by all.

The notion that the Indians were the children of the devil was not confined to the vulgar; and the belief in a familiar intercourse with evil spirits, now rejected by all but the most ignorant and credulous, was then universally received.

All had, therefore, listened in respectful silence to Sir Philip's extraordinary testimony, and it was too evident that it had the effect to set the current of feeling and opinion against the prisoner. Her few friends looked despondent; but for herself, truQ to the spirit of her race, she manifested no surprise nor emotion of any kind.

The audience listened eagerly to the magistrate, who read from his note-book the particulars which had been received from the Indian informer, and which served to^corroborate and illustrate Sir Philip's testimony. All the evidence being now before the court, the governor asked Magawisca " if she had aught to allege in her own defence."

" Speak humbly, maiden," whispered Mr. Eliot ; " it will grace thy cause with thy judges."

" Say," said Everell, " that you are a stranger to our laws and usages, and demand some one to speak for you."

Magawisca bowed her head to both advisers, in token of acknowledgment of their interest, and then, raising her eyes to her judges, she said, " I am your prisoner, and ye may slay me, but I deny your right to judge me. My people have never passed under your yoke; not one of my race has ever acknowledged your authority.'^

" This excuse will not suffice thee,^' answered one of her judges; " thy pride is like the image of Nebuchadnezzar's dream^t standeth on feet of clay: thy race have been swift witnesses to that sure word of prophecy, * Fear thou not, 0 Jacob, my servant, for I am with thee, and I will make a full end of the people whither I have driven thee;' thy people! truly, whece are they ?"

" My people! where are they 1" she replied, raising her eyes to Heaven, and speaking in a voice that sounded like deep-toned music after the harsh tones addressed to her; " my people are gone to the isles of the sweet southwest—to those shores that the bark • of an enemy can never touch: think ye I fear to follow them 1"

There was a momentary silence throughout the assembly; all seemed, for an instaflt, to feel that no human power could touch the spirit of the captive. Sir Philip whispered to the magistrate who last spoke, " Is it not awful presumption for this woman thus publicly to glory in her heathen notions ?'*

The knight's prompting had the intended effect. " Has this Pequod woman," demanded the magistrate, " never been instructed in the principles of

truth, that she dares thus to hold forth her heathenisms before us ? Dost thou not know, woman/' he continued, holding up a Bible, " that this book contains the only revelation of a future world—the only rule for the present life 1"

" I know," she replied, " that it contains thy rule, and it may be needful for thy mixed race; but the Great Spirit hath written his laws on the hearts of his original children, and we need it not."

" She is of Satan's heritage, and our enemy—a proved conspirator against the peace of God's people, and I see not why she should not be cut off," said the same gentleman, addressing his brethren in office.

" The testimony," said another of the magistrates, in a low voice, in which reason and mildness mingled, and truly indicated the disposition of the speaker, " the testimony appeareth to me insufficient to give peace to our consciences in bringing her to extremity. She seems, after her own manner, to be guided by the truth. Let the governor put it to her * whether she will confess the charges laid against her."

The governor accordingly appealed to the prisoner. "I neither confess nor deny aught," she said, ** I stand here like a deer caught in a thicket, awaiting the arrow of the hunter."

Sir Philip again whispered to his next neighbour, who, unconsciously obeying the knight's crafty suggestions, seemed to have become the conductor of the prosecution. ^^ She hath the dogged obstmacy of

all the Pequod race,'* said he," and it hath long been my opinion that we should never have peace in the land till their last root was torn from the soil.*'

"You may be right,brother," replied the governor, " but it becometh us, as Christian men, to walk circumspectly in this matter :'* then, opeViing a notebook, elevating his voice, and turning to the knight, he added, " I observe that your present testimony, Sir Philip, hath not kept equal pace with that taken down from your lips on a former occasion. Lhave looked over these memoranda with a careful eye, and I do not perceive even an intimation of your having seen the prisoner after partmg with Hope Leslie.'*

The knight had anticipated this scrutiny, and was prepared to answer it: " I was not upon oath then," he replied, " and, of course, was not required to disclose the whole truth; and, besides, it was then, as your excellency may remember, doubtful whether the prisoner would be taken, and I was reluctant to magnify, unnecessarily, the apprehensions of the paternal guardians of the people."

Though this insinuated compliment was enforced by a deferential bow to the governor, he passed it over, and replied to the first clause of Sir Plulip's rejoinder : " You allege. Sir Philip Gardiner, that you were not then on oath—neither have you been now ; we do not require a member of the congregation to take the oath, unless charged by the party against whom he testifies. What sayest thou, maiden: shall I administer the oath to him ?"

" Certainly—require the oath of him," whispered Everell to Magawisca.

Magawisca bowed her assent to the governor.

Sir Philip would not probably have been so prompt In his false testimony if he had anticipated being put on his oath; for he was far enough frpm having one of those religious consciences that regard truth as so sacred that no ceremonies can add to its authority. But now, his word being questioned, it became necessary for him to recede from it, or to maintain it in the usual legal form ; and, without hesitating, he advanced to the table, raised his hand, and went through the customary form of the oath. The collectedness and perfect equanimity of Magawisca, to this moment, had seemed to approach to indifference to her fate; but the persevering falsehood of Sir Philip, and the implicit faith in which it was apparently received, now roused her spirit, and stimulated that principle of retaliation, deeply planted in the nature of every human being, and rendered a virtue by savage education. She took a crucifix from her bosom: Everell whispered, " I pray thee hide that, Magawisca; it will ruin thy cause." Magawisca shook her head, and held up the crucifix.

"Put down that idolatrous sign," said the governor.

" She hath doubtless fallen under popish enchant-^ ments," whispered one of the deputies; " the French priests have spread their nets throughout the western forests."

Magawisca, without heedmg the governor's com-

mand, or observing the stares of astonishment that her seeming hardihood drew upon her, addressed herself to Sir Philip: " This crucifix," she said," thou didst drop in my prison. If, as thou saidst, it is a charmed figure, that hath power to keep thee in the straight path of truth, then press it to thy lips now, as thou didst then, and take back the false words thou hast spoken against me."

"What doth she mean?" asked the governor, turning to Sir Philip.

" I know not," replied the knight, his reddening face and embarrassed utterance indicating he knew that which he dared not confess; " I know not; but I should marvel if this heathen savage were permitted, with impunity, to insult me in your open court I call upon the honourable magistrates and deputies," he continued, with a more assured air, ^ to impose silence on this woman, lest her uttered malignities should, in the minds of the good people here assembled, bring scandal upon one whose bumble claimis to fellowship with you you have yourselves sanc« tioned."

The court were for a moment silent; every eye was turned towards Magawisca, in the hope that she would be suffered to make an explanation; and the emotions of curiosity coinciding with the dictates of justice in the bosoms of the sage judges themselves, were very likely to counteract the favour any of them might have felt for Sir Philip. Everell rose to appeal to the court to permit Magawisca to invalidate, as far as she was able, the testimony against her; but

Mr. Eliot laid his hand on his arm, and withheld him. " Stay, my young friend," he whispered; " I may speak more acceptably." Then, addressing the court, he "prayed the prisoner might be allowed liberty to speak freely, alleging it was for the wisdom of her judges to determine what weight was to be attached to her testimony;" and, glancing his eye at Sir Philip, he added, " The upright need not fear the light of truth."

Sir Philip again remonstrated; he asked " why the prisoner should be permitted farther to offend the consciences of the godly ? Surely," he said, " none of her judges would enforce her demand; surely, having just sworn before them in the prescribed form, they would not require him to repeat his oath on that symbol of Popish faith, that had been just styled an idolatrous sign."

" This, I think. Brother EUot, is not what thou wouldst ask 1" said Governor Winthrop.

" Nay, God forbid that I should bring such scandal upon our land. It is true, I have known many misguided sons of the Romish Church who would swear freely on the Holy Word what they dared not verify on the crucifix; which abundantly showeth that superstition is, with such, stronger than faith. But we, I think, have no warrant for using such a test, neither do we need it. The prisoner hath asserted that this symbol belongeth to Sir Philip Gardiner, and that he did use it to fortify his word; ff so, the credit of his present testimony would be mainly altered; and it seemeth to me but just that the

Vol. n.— P

prisoner should not only be allowed, but required to state in full that to which she hath but alluded.''

A whispered consultation of the magistrates followed this proposition, during which Sir Philip seemed virtually to have changed places with the prisoner, 'md appeared as agitated as if he were on the verge of condemnation: his brow was knit, his lips compressed, and his eye, whose movement seemed beyond his control, flashed from the bench of magistrates to Magawisca, and then fi^ed on Rosa, as if he would fain have put annihilation in its glance. This unhappy girl still sat where she had first seated herself 5 she had taken off her hat, laid it on her lap, and rested her face upon it.

There was a vehement remonstrance from some of the members of the court against permitting the prisoner to criminate one who had shown himself well and zealously affected towards them. And it was urged, with some plausibility, that the hints she had received of the advantstge to be gained by disqualifying Sir Philip, would tempt her to contrive some crafty tale that might do him 51 wrong which they could not repair. The governor answered this argument by suggesting that they, being forewarned, were forearmed, and might certainly rely on their own sagacity to detect any imposture. Of course, no individual was forward to deny, for himself, such an ?Jlegation, and the governor proceeded to request Magawisca to state the circumstances to which she alluded as having transpired in the prison. Magawisca now, for the first time, appeared to hesitate, to dehberate, and to feel embarrassed.

*^ Why dost thou falter, woman 1" demanded one of her judges; " no time shall be allowed now to contrive a false testimony ; proceed—speak quick-

ly!"

" Fear not to ^eak, Magawisca," whispered Ev-erell.

" I do fear to speak," she replied aloud; " but it is such fear as he hath, who, seeing the prey in the eagle's talons, is loath to hurl his arrow, lest, perchance, it should wound the innocent victim."

" Speak not in parables, Magawisca," said Governor Winthrop, "but let us have thy meaning plainly."

" Then," replied Magawisca, " let me first crave of thy mercy that that poor youth (pointing to Rosa) withdraw from this presence."

All eyes were now directed to Rosa, who, herself conscious that she had become the object of attention, raised her head, threw back the rich feminine curls that drooped over her face, and looked wildly around her. On every side her eye encountered glances of curiosity and suspicion; her colour deepened, her lips quivered, and, like a bewildered, terrified child, that instinctively flies to its mother's side, she sprang up the steps, grasped Sir Philip's cloak as if she would have hidden herself in its folds, and sunk down at his feet. Sir Philip's passions had risen to an uncontrollable pitch: "Off! boy," he cried, spuming her with his foot. A murmur of " Shame! Cruelty!" ran through the house. The unhappy girl rose to her feet, pressed both her hands

ou her forehead, stared vacantly about, as if her rea* son were trembling on the verge of annihilation, then darting forward, she penetrated through the crowd and disappeared.

There were few persons present so dull as not to have solved Magawisca's parable at the instant the blew was given by Rosa's involuntary movements. Stiff, all they had discovered was that the page was a disguised girl-; and a hope darted on Sir PhiUp, in the midst of his overwhelming confusion, that, if he could gain time, he might escape the dangers that menaced him. He rose, and with an effrontery that with some passed for the innocence he would fain have counterfeited, said "that circumstances had just transpired in that honourable presence which no doubt seemed mysterious; that he could not then explain them without uselessly exposing the unhappy ; for the same reason, namely, to avoid unnecessary suffering, he begged that no interrogatories might at the present moment be put to the prisoner in relation to the hints she had thrown put; that, if the governor would vouchsafe him a private interview, he would, on the sure word of a Christian man, clear up whatever suspicions had been excited by the dark intimations of the prisonejr, and the very singular conduct of his page.''

The governor replied, with a severe gravity, ominous to the knight, " That the circumstances he had alluded to certainly required explanation; if that should not prove satisfactory, they would demand a public investigation. In the mean time^ he should

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ing witL a tms: cf imostnanrti^ "*" '^^t^^'^r I jrjTt >ictt». send me to iaCL unw^ Ajyning i2$ ^fO^ ^b;iKt wealing ^bcnidt aictAtflr udxh in 3ty Trsco^cco*^ thinking^'' At a&inftl. imi <nKC icwa 2ifr ^r^ItoJb;. heary widi tears. ^ trltrnfcfr^ ^£ -Jnir cld r^.ia—oxY &ther. I pray daee*"" d^ ccccaoKi bieciib^ t>w her head, "I pc^ dice no^ tj sec hk fw* Wait not for lus testunoBf'*—sbe pccnted :o Sir Philip: ^'aswdl maj ye expect the gneen herb to sprittc up in your trodden streets, as the breach of truth to cv>me from his false Iip& Do you wait for him to i>rv>Yc that I am yoor enemy ? Take my own worvt—I ;jim your enemy; the sonbeam and the shadow canm^t mingle. The white man cometh—^the Indian van* isheth. Can we grasp in friendship the hand rauitnl to strike ns 1 Nay: and it matters not whether \vt» fall by the tempest that laj-s the forest low, or wrt* cut down alone by the stroke of the axe. I wtndd P 2

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have thanked you for life and liberty; for Mononot-to's sake I would have thanked you; but if ye send me back to that dungeon—the grave of the living, feeling, thinking soul, where the sun never shineth, * where the stars never rise nor set, where the free breath of Heaven never enters, where all is darkness without and within"—she pressed her hand on her breast— ^^ ye will even now condemn me to death, but death more slow and terrible than your most suffering captive ever endured from Indian fires and knives." She paused; passed imresisted without the little railing that encompassed her, mounted the steps of the platform, and, advancing to the feet of the governor, threw back her mantle, and knelt before him. Her mutilated person, unveiled by this action, appealed to the senses of the spectators. Ev-erell involuntarily closed his eyes, and uttered a cry of agony, lost, indeed, in the murmurs of the crowd. She spoke, and all again were as hushed as death. " Thou didst promise," she said, addressmg herself to Governor Winthrop, " to my dying mother thou didst promise kindness to her children. In her name, I demand'of thee death or liberty."

Everell sprang forward, and, clasping his hands, exclaimed, ** In the name of God, hberty!"

The feeling was contagious, and every voice, save her judges, shouted " Liberty! hberty! Grant the prisoner liberty!"

The governor rose, waved his hand to command silence, and would have spoken, but his voice failed him ; bis heart was touched with the general emo-

tion, and he was fain to turn away to hide tears more becoming to the man than the magistrate.

The same gentleman who, throughout the trial, had been most forward to speak, now rose—a man of metal to resist any fire. " Are ye all fools, and mad!" he cried ; " ye that are gathered here together, that, like the men of old, ye shout ^ Great is Diana of the Ephesians!' For whom would you stop the course of justice ? for one who is charged before you with having visited every tribe on the shores and in the forests, to quicken the savages to diabohcal revenge; for one who flouts the faith once delivered to the saints to your very faces! for one who hath entered into an open league and confederacy with Satan against you! for one who, as ye have testimony within yourselves, in that her looks and words do so prevail over your judgments, is presently aided and abetted by the arch enemy of mankind-—^I call upon you, my brethren," he added, turning to his associates, " and most especially on you, Governor Win-throp, to put a sudden end to this confusion by the formal adjournment of our court.''

The governor bowed his assent. " Rise, Maga-wisca," he said, in a voice of gentle authority; " I may not grant thy prayer; but what I can do in remembrance of my solemn promise to thy dying mother, without leaving undone higher duty, I will do.''

" And what mortal can do, I will do," said Ever-ell, whispering the words into Magawisca's ear as she rose. The cloud of despondency that had settled over her fine face for an instant vanished, and she

said aloud, " Everdl Fletcher, my dungeon will not be, as I said, quite dark, for thither I bear the memory of thy kindness.''

Some of the magistrates seemed to regard this slight interchange of expressions between the captive and her champion as indecorous: the constables were ordered immediately to perform their duty, by reconducting their prisoner to jail; and Magawisca was led out, leaving in the breasts of a great majority of the audience a strange contrariety of opinion and feelings: their reason, guided by the best lights they possessed, deciding against her, the voice of nature crying out for her.

Before the parties separated, the governor arranged a private interview with Sir Philip Gardiner, to take place at his own house immediately after dinner.

CHAPTER rx.

" Ye*re like to the timmer o* yon rotten wood, Ye're like to the bark o' yon rotten tree, *

Ye'U slip frae me like a knotless thread, And ye'll crack your credit wi' mae nor me."

Burns.

• At the period of our history, twelve o'clock was the hour appointed for dinner: we believe in the mother-country—certainly in the colony then, as now, everywhere in the interior of our states, this natural division of time was maintained. Our magistrates did not then claim any exemption from the strict rules of simplicity and frugality that were imposed on the humble citizens, and Governor Win-throp's meridian meal, though it might have been somewhat superior in other luxuries, had n5 more of the luxury of time bestowed on it than that of the honest artisans and tradesmen about him.

In order to explain what follows, it is necessary to state to our readers, that adjoining the parlour of Governor Winthrop's mansion was that sine qua non of all thrifty housekeepers, an ample pantry. In the door of this pantry was a glazed panel, over the parlour side of which hung a green curtain. The glass had been broken, and not yet repaired; and, let housewives take the admonition if they Uke, on this slight accident depended life and death.

The pantry, besides the door already described, had another, which communicated with the kitchen; through this Jennet (who in housewife skill resembled the "neat-handed Phillis" of poetic fame, though in other respects prosaic enough) had entered to perform within the sanctum certain confi-flential services for Madam Winthrop.

It now drew near the hour of two, the time appointed for the interview of the governor with Sir Philip ; the dinner was over, the table removed, and all orderly and quiet in the parlour, when Jennet, in* her retreat, heard Miss Leslie and Mr. Eyerell Fletcher enter, and, though the weather was warm, close the door after them. A slight hint is suflScient for the wary and wise; and Jennet, on hearing the door shut, forbore to make any noise which should apprize the parties of her proximity.

The young people, as if fearful of being overheard without, withdrew to the farthest eslremity from the entry door, and came into the corner adjoining the pantry. They spoke, though in low tones, yet in the most earnest and animated manner; and Jennet, tempted beyond what she was able to bear, drew nigh to the door with a cat's tread, and applied her ear to the aperture, where the sounds were only slightly obstructed by the silk curtain.

While speakers and listener stood in this interesting relation to each other. Sir Philip Gardiner was approaching the mansion, his bad mind filled with projects, hopes, and fears. He had, after much painful study, framed the following story, which he hoped

to impose on the credulity of the governor, and, through him, of the. public. His sole care was to avoid present investigation and detection ; in navigating a winding channel, he regarded only the difficulties directly before him.

He meant that, in the first place, by way of a coup de grace^ the governor should understand he had in* tentionally acquiesced in the discovery of Rosa's disguise. He would then, as honest Varhey did, confess there had been some love-passages between the girl and himself in the days of his folly. He would state that, subsequent to his conversion, he had placed her in a godly school in England, and that, to his utter confusion, he had discovered, after hie had sailed from London, that she had, in the disguise she still wore, secreted herself on board the ship. He had, perhaps, felt too much indulgence for the girPs youth and unconquerable affection for him; but he should hope that was not an impardonable sin. He had been restrained from divulging her real character on shipboard, from his reluctance to expose her youth to insult or farther temptation. On his arrival, he was conscious it was a manifest duty to have delivered her over to the public authorities; but pity— pity still had ruled him. He scrupled—perhaps that was a temptation of the enemy, who knew well to assail the weakest points—he scrupled to give over to public shame one, of whose transgressions he had been the cause. Besides, she had been bred in France—a Papbt 5 and he had hoped—trusting, perhaps, too much in his own strength—^that he might

convert her from the error of her ways—snatch the brand from the bumbg; he had, indeed, felt a fatherly tenderness for her, and, weakly mdulging that sentiment, he had still, when he fomid her obstinate-ly persisting in her errors, devised a plan to shelter her from public punishment ; and, in pursuance of it, he had taken advantage of the opportunity afforded him by his visit to Thomas Morton, to propose to , Magawisca that, in case she should obtain her liberty from the clemency of her judges, she should undertake to convey Rosa to a convent in Montreal, of the order to which she had been, in her childhood, attached.

He meant to plead guilty, as he thought he could well afford to do, if he was exculpated on the other points, to all the sin of acquiescence in Rosa's devotion to an unholy and proscribed religion; and to the crucifix Magawisca had produced, and which he feared would prove a " confirmation strong*' to any jealousies the governor might still harbour against him, he meant to answer that he had taken it from Rosa to explain to Magawisca that she was of the Romish religion.

With this plausible tale—not the best that could have been devised, perhaps, by one accustomed to all the sinuosities of the human mind and human affairs, but the best that Sir Philip could frame in his present perplexity—^he bent his steps towards the governor's, a little anticipating the appointed hour in the hope of obtaining a glimpse of Miss Leslie, whom he had not seen since their last interview at the island;

and "who was still the bright cjmosure by which, through all the dangers that beset him, he trusted to guide himself to a joyous destiny.

Never was he more unwelcome to her sight than when he opened the parlour door, and interrupted the deeply-interesting conversation in which we left her engaged. She coldly bowed, without speaking, and left him, without making any apology, in the midst of his flattering compliments on the recovery of her health.

Sir Philip and Everell were much on the terms of two unfriendly dogs, who are, by some coercion, kept from dobg battle, but who never meet without low growls and sullen looks, that intimate their deadly enmity. Everell paced the room twice or thrice, then snatched up his hat, left the house, and sauntered up the street.

No sooner had he disappeared than Jennet emerged from her seclusion, her hands uplifted and her eyes upturned. " Oh, Sir Philip! Sir Philip !" she said, as soon as she could get her voice, a delay never long with Jennet, " truly is the heart deceitful, and the lips too. Oh! who would have thought it 1 such a danng, presumptuous, and secret sin, too! Where is the governor ? He must know it. But first. Sir Philip, I will tell you; that will do, as you and the governor are one in counseL"

" Heaven grant we may be so," thought Sir Philip, and he closed the door and turned to Jennet, eager to hear her communication; for her earnestness,

Vol. H—Q

oa her forehead, stared vacantly about, as if her rea* son were trembling on the verge of annihilation, then darting forward, she penetrated through the crowd and disappeared.

There were few persons present so dull as not to have solved Magawisca's parable at the instant the dew was given by Rosa's involuntary movements. Stili-, all they had discovered was that the page was a disguised girl; and a hope darted on Sir Philip, in the midst of his overwhelming confusion, that, if he could gain time, he might escape the dangers that menaced him. He rose, and with an effrontery that with some passed for the innocence he would fain have counterfeited, said "that circumstances had just transpired in that honourable presence which no doubt seemed mysterious; that he could not then explain them without uselessly expoang the unhappy ; for the same reason, namely, to avoid unnecessary suffering, he begged that no interrogatories might at the present moment be put to the prisoner in relation to the hints she had thrown put; that, if the governor would vouchsafe him a private interview, he would, on the sure word of a Christian man, clear up whatever suspicions had been excited by the dark intimations of the prison^, and the very singular conduct of his page."

The governor replied, with a severe gravity, ominous to the knight, " That the circumstances he had alluded to certainly required explanation; if that should not prove satisfactory, they would demand a public investigation. In the mean time, he should

suspend the trial of the prisoner, who, though the decision of her case might not wholly depend on the establishment of Sir Philip's testimony, was yet, at present, materially aflfected by it.

" He expressed a deep regret at the interruption that had occurred, as it must lead,'' he said, " to the suspension of the justice to be manifested, either in the acquittal or condemnation of the prisoner. Some of the magistrates being called away from town on the next morning, he found himself compelled to adjourn the sitting of the court till one month from the present date."

"Then," said Magawisca, for the first time speaking with a tone of impatience, " then, I pray you, send me to death now. Anything is better than wearing through another moon in my prison-house, thinking," she added, and cast down her eyelids, heavy with tears, " thinking of that old man—my father. I pray thee," she continued, bendmg low her head, " I pray thee now to set me free. Wait not for his testimony"—she pointed to Sir Philip: " as well may ye expect the green herb to spring up in your trodden streets, as the breath of truth to come from his false lips. Do you wait for him to prove that I am your enemy ? Take my own word—I am your enemy; the sunbeam and the shadow cannot mingle. The white man cometh—^the Indian van-isheth. Can we grasp in friendship the hand raised to strike us 1 Nay: and it matters not whether we fall by the tempest that lays the forest low, or are cut down alone by the stroke of the axe. I would P 2

have thanked you for life and liberty ; for Mononot-to's sake I would have thanked you; but if ye send me back to that dungeon—the grave of the living, feeling, thinking soul, where the sun never shineth, where the stars never rise nor set, where the free breath of Heaven never enters, where all is darkness without and within"—she pressed her hand on her breast— " ye will even now condemn me to death, but death more slow and terrible than your most suffering captive ever endured from Indian fires and knives." She paused; passed imresisted without the little railing that encompassed her, mounted the steps of the platform, and, advancing to the feet of the governor, threw back her mantle, and knelt before him. Her mutilated person, unveiled by this action, appealed to the senses of the spectators. Ev-erell involuntarily closed his eyes, and uttered a cry of agony, lost, indeed, in the murmurs of the crowd. She spoke, and all again were as hushed as death. " Thou didst promise," she said, addressing herself to Governor Winthrop, " to my dying mother thou didst promise kindness to her children. In her name, I demand^of thee death or liberty."

Everell sprang forward, and, clasping his hands, exclaimed, '* In tiie name of God, Uberty!"

The feeling was contagious, and every voice, save her judges, shouted " Liberty! liberty! Grant the prisoner liberty!"

The governor rose, waved his hand to command silence, and would have spoken, but his voice failed him ; his heart was touched with the general emo-

tion, and he was fam to turn away to hide tears more becoming to the man than the magistrate.

The same gentleman who, throughout the trial, had been most forward to speak, now rose—a man . of metal to resist any fire. " Are ye all fools, and mad!" he cried 5 " ye that are gathered here together, that, like the men of old, ye shout * Great is Diana of the Ephesians!' For whom would you stop the course of justice ? for one who is charged before you with having visited every tribe on the shores and in the forests, to quicken the savages to diabolical revenge ; for one who flouts the faith once delivered to the saints to your very faces! for one who hath entered into an open league and confederacy with Satan against you! for one who, as ye have testimony within yourselves, in that her looks and words do so prevail over your judgments, is presently aided and abetted by the arch enemy of mankind-—^I call upon you, my brethren," he added, turning to his associates, " and most especially on you, Governor Win-throp, to put a sudden end to this confusion by the formal adjournment of our court."

The governor bowed his assent. " Rise, Maga-wisca," he said, in a voice of gentle authority; " I may not grant thy prayer; but what I can do in remembrance of my solemn promise to thy dying mother, without leaving undone higher duty, I will do."

" And what mortal can do, I will do," said Ever-ell, whispering the words into Magawisca's ear as she rose. The cloud of despondency that had settled over her fine face for an instant vanished, and she

said aloud, " Everell Fletcher, my dungeon will not be, as I said, quite dark, for thither I bear the memory of thy kindness."

Some of the magistrates seemed to regard this shght interchange of expressions between the captive and her champion as indecorous: the constables were ordered immediately to perform their duty, by reconducting their prisoner to jail; and Magawisca was led out, leaving in the breasts of a great majority of the audience a strange contrariety of opinion and feelings: their reason, guided by the best lights they possessed, deciding against her, the voice of nature crying out for her.

Before the parties separated, the governor arranged a private interview with Sir Philip Gardiner, to take place at his own house immediately after dinner.

CHAPTER rx.

** Ye're like to the timmer o' yon rotten wood, Ye're like to the bark o' yon rotten tree, Ye'U slip frae me like a knotless thread, And ye'll crack your credit wi' mae nor me."

Burns.

• At the period of our history, twelve o'clock was the hour appointed for dinner: we believe in the mother-country—certainly in the colony then, as now, everywhere in the interior of our states, this natural division of time was maintained. Our magistrates did not then claim any exemption from the strict rules of simplicity and frugality that were imposed on the humble citizens, and Governor Win-throp's meridian meal, though, it might have been somewhat superior in other luxuries, had n8 more of the luxury of time bestowed on it than that of the honest artisans and tradesmen about him.

In order to explain what follows, it is necessary to state to our readers, that adjoining the parlour of Governor Winthrop's mansion was that sine qua non of all thrifty housekeepers, an ample pantry. In the door of this pantry was a glazed panel, over the parlour side of which hung a green curtain. The glass had been broken, and not yet repaired; and, let housewives take the admonition if they like, on this slight accident depended life and death.

sprang to her feet, but instantly saok back again on the cushion, and apparently returned to her former abstraction.

Governor Winthrop eyed the stranger narrowly. " I think, Brother Fletcher," he said, " this man has the Italian lineaments; perhaps Master Cradock may understand his language, as he is well versed in all the dialects of the kingdoms of Italy. Robin,'* he added, " bid Master Cradock come hither."

"Master Cradock has gone out, sir, an please you, some minutes since, with Miss Leslie."

" Gone out—with Miss Leslie! Whither ?"

" I do not know, sir. The young lady bid me say she had gone to a fHend's, and should not return till late. She begged Mrs. Jennet might be in waiting for her."

" This is somewhat unseasonable," said the governor, looking at his watch ; " it is now almost nine; but I believe," he added, in kin^ consideration of Mr. Fletcher's feelings, " we may trust your wild-wood bird; her flights are somewhat devious, but her instincts are safer than I once thought them."

" Trust her! yes, indeed," exclaimed Mrs. Grafton, catching the word that implied distrust " But I wonder," she added, going to the window and looking anxiously abroad, " that she should venture out this dark night, with nobody but that blind beetle of a Cradock to attend her; however, I suppose she is safe if she but keep on the mainland, as I thmk you say the wolves come no more over the neck."

" They certainly will not come anywhere within the bounds that our lamb is likely to Stray/' said Mr. Fletcher.

The governor's care again recurred to the mendicant stranger, who now signified, by intelligible gestures, that he both wanted food and sleep. Every apartment in the governor's house was occupied; but it was a rule with him that admitted of no exception, that his shelter should never be denied to the wanderer, nor his charities to the poor; and, accordingly, after some consultation with the executive department of his domestic government, a flock-bed was ordered to be spread on the kitchen floor, and a meal provided, on which the stranger did extraordinary execution.

When the result of these charitable deliberations were signified to him, he expressed his gratitude by the most animated gestures, and seeming involuntarily to recur to the natural organ .of communication, he uttered, in his low and rapid manner, several sentences, which appeared, from the direction of his eye and his repeated bows, to be addressed to his benefactor.

" Enough, enough," said the governor, interpreting his words by a wave of his hand, which signified to the mendicant that he was to follow Robin to the kitchen. There we must leave him to achieve, in due time, an object involving most momentous consequences, while we follow on the trail of our heroine, whose excursive habits have so often compelled us to deviate from the straight line of narration.

Hope had retired to the study \vith Master Cra-dock, where she delighted her tutor with her seemingly profound attention to his criticisms on her Italian author. " You see, Miss Hope Leslie/' he said, intent on illustrating a difficult passage, ^^ the point here lies in this, that Orlando hesitates whether to go to the rescue of Beatrice."

" Ah, stop there. Master Cradock; you speak an admonition to me. You have yourself told me, the Romans believed that words spoken by those ignorant of their affairs, but applicable to them, were good or bad omens."

" True, true; you do honour your tutor beyond his deserts, in treasuring these little classical notices, that it hath been my rare privilege to plant in your mind. But how were my words an admonition to you. Miss Hope Leslie ?"

" By reminding me of a duty to a friend who sadly needs my help—and thine too, my good tutor."

" My help! your friend! It shall be as freely granted as Jonathan's was to David, or Orpheus's to Eurydice."

" The task to be done," said Hope, while she could not forbear laughing at Cradock's comparmg himself to the master of music, " is not very unlike that of Orpheus. But we have no time to lose : put on your cloak. Master Cradock, while I tell Robin what to say if we are inquired^or."

"My cloak! you forget we are in tljie summer solstice ; and the evening is somewhat over sultry, so that even now, with my common habiliments, I am in a drip."

" So much the more need to guard against the evening air," said Hope, who had her own secret and urgent reasons for insisting on the cloak; ^^ put on the cloak, Master Cradock, and move quick and softly, for I would pass out without notice from the family."

A Moslem would as soon have thought of resisting fate, as Cradock of opposing a wish of his young mistress, which only invoked his own comfort; so he cloaked himself, while Hope flew to the kitchen, gave her orders, and thre>^ on her hat, which she had taken care to have at hand. They then passed through the hall and beyond the court without attracting observation.

Cradock was so absorbed in the extraordinary happiness of being selected as the confidential aid and companion of his favourite, that he would have followed her to the world's end^ without question, if she had not herself turned the direction of his thoughts.

" It is like yourself," she said, " my good tutor, to obey the call of humanity, without inquiring in whose behalf it comes; and I think you will not be the less prompt to follow the dictates of your own heart and my wishes, when I tell you that I am leading you to poor Magawisca's prison."

" Ah! the Indian woman, concerning whom I have heard much colloquy. I would, in ttuth, be fain to see her, and speak to her such comfortable words and counsels as may, with a blessing, touch the heathen's heart You have doubtless. Miss Hope,

provided yourself with a passport from the governor/' he added, for almost the first time in his hfe looking at the business part of a transaction.

" Master Cradock, I did not esteem that essential."

" Oh! but it is; and if you will abide here one moment, I will hasten back and procure it/' he said, in his simplicity never suspecting that Miss Leslie's omission was anything other than an oversight

" Nay, nay. Master Cradock/' she said, laying her hand on his arm, ^^ it is* too late now: my heart is set on this visit to the unhappy prisoner; and if you were to go back, Madaq» Winthrop, or my aunt, or somebody else, might deem the hour unseasonable. Leave it all to me: I will manage with Bamaby Tuttle; and when we return, be assured I will take all the blame, if there is any, on myself."

" No, that you shall not; it shall fall on my gray head, where there should be wisdom, and not on your youth, which lacketh discretion—and lacketh naught else/' he murmured to himself; and, without any farther hesitation, he acquiesced in proceeding onward.

They arrived without hinderance at the jail, and knocked a long time for admittance at t^at part of the tenement occupied by our friend Bamaby, without his appearing. Hope became impatient; and, bidding Cradock follow her, she passed through the passage, and opened the door of Barnaby's apartment

He was engaged in what he still called ^^ his &m«

ily exercise;" though, by the death of his wife and the marriage of his only child, he was the sole remnant of that corporation. On seeing our heroine, he gave her a familiar nod of recognition, and, by an equally intelligible sign, he demonstrated his desire that she should seat herself, and join in his devotions, which he was just closing, by singing a psalm, versified by himself; for honest Barnaby, after his own humble fashion, was a disciple of the tuneful Nine. Hope assented; and, with the best grace she could command, accompanied him through twelve stanzas of long and very uncommon metre, which he obli-^ngly gave out line by line. When this, on Hope's part, extempore worship was finished, " Welcome here, and many thanks. Miss Leslie," said Barnaby; " it's a good sign to find a prepared heart and a ready voice. Service to you. Master Cradock; you are not gifted in psalmody, I see."

" Not in the outward manifestation; but the inward feeling is, I trust, vouchsafed to me. My heart hath taken part in the fag end of your feast."

" A pretty similitude, truly. Master Cradock, and a token for good is it when the appetite is always sharp-set for such a feast. But come. Miss Leslie," raking open the embers, " draw up your chair, and warm your dear little feet She looks pale yet after her sickness—^ha. Master Cradock ? You should not have come forth in the evening air—not but what I am right glad to see you; the sight of you always brings to mind your kindness to the dead and the living. You have not been here, I think, since

Vol. U.—R

the night of Ruthy's wedding: that puts me in mind that I got a letter from Ruthy to-day. I'll read it to you," he continued^ taking off his spectacles and giving them a preparatory wipe; " Ruthy is quite handy with her pen-r-takes after the Tuttles in that: you know, Miss Leslie, my great-grandfather wrote a book."

" Yes," said Hope, interrupting him, and rising, " and I trust his great-grandson will live to write another."

" Sit down. Miss Leslie; it may be those of as humble a degree as Barnaby Tuttle have written books; and writing runs in families, like the king's evil"—and Barnaby laughed at his own vntty illustration— " but sit down. Miss Leslie; I must read Ruthy's letter to you."

" Not now, good Barnaby ; let me take it home with me; it is getting late, and I have a favour to ask of you."

" A favour to ask of me! ask anything, my pretty mistress, that's in the power of Barnaby Tuttle to grant. Ah! Mr. Cradock, there's nobody knows what I owe her—what she did for my wife when she laid on her deathbed—and all for nothing but our thanks and prayers."

" Oh, you forget that your wife had once been a servant to my dear mother."

"Yes, yes, but only in the common way, and there^s few that would have thought of it again. It's not my way to speak with flattering lips, but truly. Miss Hope Leslie, you seem to be one of those

that do not to others th^ it may be done to you agam."

" Oh, my good friend Barnaby, you speak this praise in the wrong time, for I have even now come, as I told you, to beg a favour on the score of old friendship."

" It shall be done! it shall be done!" said Barnaby, snapping his fingers, his most energetic gesture; " be it what it may, it shall be done."

" Oh, it is not so very much, but only, Barnaby, I wish it quickly done, that we may return. I want you to conduct Master Cradock and myself to your. Indian prisoner, and leave us in her cell for a short time."

" Is that all ? Certainly—certainly;" and, anxious to make" up for the smallness of the service by the avidity of his compliance, Barnaby prepared his lamp with unwonted activity. " Now we are ready," he said, " just show me your permit, and we'll go without delay."

Hope had flattered herself that her old friend, in his eagerne^ to serve her, would dispense with the ceremony of a passport from the governor. Agitated by this new and alarming obstacle, she commanded her voice with diflSculty to reply in her usual tone. " How could I think it necessary to bring a permit to you, who know me so well, Barnaby ?"

" Not necessary I that was an odd thought for such an all-witted damsel as thou art, Miss Hope Leslie. Not necessaryy indeed ! Why, I could not let in the king, if he were to come from his throne; the kmg!

truly, be is but as bis subjects now; but if tbe first Parliament man were to come bere, I could not let bim in witbout a permit from tbe governor."

Hope walked up and down tbe room, biting ber lips witb vexation and disappointment. Every moment's delay bazarded tbe final success of ber project. Poor Cradock now interposed witb one of his awkward movements, wbicb, tbougb made with tbe best will in tbe world, was sure to overturn tbe burden be essayed to bear. " Be comforted, Miss Hope Leslie," be said; " I am not so nimble as I was in years past, but it is scarce fifteen minutes' walk to tbe governor's, and I will basten tbitber and get tbe needful paper."

" Ay, ay, so do," said Bamaby; " tbat will set all rigbt."

" No," cried Hope; " no. Master Cradock, you sball not go. If Barnaby cannot render me tbis little kindness, tbere is an end of it. I will give it up. I sball never ask anotber favour of you, Bamaby;" and sbe sat down, anxious and disappointed, and burst into tears. Honest Barnaby could not stand tbis. To see one so mucb bis superior—one wbo bad been an angel of mercy to bis babitation—one wbo bad a rigbt to command bim in all permitted service, tbrown into sucb deep distress by bis refusal of a favour, wbicb, after all, tbere could be no barm in granting, be could not endure.

" Well, well," be said, after besitating and jingling bis keys for a moment," dry up your tears, my young lady; a ^ wayward cbild,' tbey say, ^ will have

its way;' and they say, too, * men's hearts melt in women's tears,' and I believe it; come, come along, you shall have your way."

Hope now passed to the extreme of joy and gratitude. " Bless you—^bless you, Barnaby," she said, " I was sure you would not be cross to me."

" Lord help us, child, no—there's no denying you; but I do wish you was as thoughtful as Miss Esther Downing; she never came without a permit—a good thing is consideration; you have made me to do that which I trust not to do again—step aside from known duties; but we're erring creatures."

Hope had the grace to pause one instant, and to meditate a retreat before she had involved others in sinning against their consciences; but she had the end to be attained so muchp at heart, and the faults to be committed by her agents were of so light a dye, that the scale of her inclinations soon preponderated, and she proceeded. When they came to the door of the dungeon, " Hark to her," said Barnaby ; " is not that a voice for psalmody ?" Mag awisca was singing in her own language, in the most thrilling and plaintive tones. Hope thought there cQuld not be darkness or imprisonment to such a spirit. " It is, in truth, Barnaby," she replied, " a voice fit to sing the praises of God." Barnaby now turned the bolts and opened the door, and as the feeble ray of his lamp fell athwart the dungeon's gloom, Hope perceived Magawisca sitting on her flock bed, with a blanket wrapped around her. On hearing their voices she had ceased her singing, but she gave no R 2

otber sign of her consciousness of tbe presence of her visiters.

Miss Leslie took the lamp from Barnaby. " How much time will you allow us ?" she asked.

" Ten mmutes."

" Ten minutes! oh, more than that, I pray you, good Barnaby."

" Not one second more," replied Barm^by, resolute not to concede another inch of ground. "There may be question of this matter—^you must consider, my dear young lady."

" I will—always in future, I will, Barnaby; now you may leave me."

" Yes, yes, I understand," said Barnaby, giving a knowing nod. " You mind the Scripture rule about the right and the left hftnd—some creature comfort to be given to the prisoner. I marvel that ye bring Master Cradock with you; but, in truth, he hath no more eye nor ear than the wall."

" Marvel not at anything, Barnaby, but leave me, and let my ten minutes be as long as the last ten minutes before dinner."

Hope, quick as she was in invention and action, felt that she had a very brief space to effect her purposed arrangements; and while she hesitated as to the best mode of beginning, Cradock, who nothing doubted he had been brought hither as a ghostly teacher, asked whether " he should commence witih prayer or exhortation."

" Neither—neither, Master Cradock; do just as I bid you; you will not hesitate to help a fellow-crea-

ture out of deep, unmerited distress ?" This was uttered in a tone of half inquiry and half assertion, that, enforced by Hope's earnest, imploring manner, quickened Cradock's slow apprehension. She per#-ceived the light was dawning on his mind, and she turned from him to Magawisca: " Magawisca," she said, stooping over her, " rousie yourself—trust me— I have come to release you." She made no reply, nor movement. " Oh! there is not a moment to lose. Magawisca, listen to me—^speak to me."

" Thou didst once deceive and betray me, Hope Leslie," she replied, without raising her head.

Hope concisely explained the secret machinations of Sir Philip, by which she had been made the unconscious and innocent means of betraying her. " Then, Hope Leslie," she exclaimed, rising from he<^ abject seat and throwing off her blanket, "thy soul is unstained, and Everell Fletcher's truth will not be linked to falsehood."

Hope would have explained that her destiny and Everell's were not to be interwoven, but she had neither time nor heart for it. " You are too generous, Magawisca," she said, in a tremulous tone, " to think of any one but yourself, now—we have not a breath to lose—take this riband," and she untied her sash; ** bind your hair tight with it, so that you can draw Master Cradock's wig over your head; you must exchange dresses with him."

" Nay, Hope Leslie, I cannot leave another in my net."

"You must not hesitate, Magawisca—^you will be

freed—^he runs no risk, will suffer no harm—^Ever-ell awaits you—speed, I pray you." She turned to Cradock : " Now, my good tutor," she said, in her most persuasive tones, " lend me your aid, quickly. Magawisca must have the loan of your wig, hat, boots, and cloak; and you must sit down there on her bed, and let me wrap you in her blanket."

Cradock retreated to the wall, planted himself against it, shut his eyes, and covered his ears with his hands, that temptation might, at every entrance, be quite shut out. " Oh! I scruple—I scruple," he articulated, in a voice of the deepest distress.

" Scruple not, dear Master Cradock," replied Hope, pulling down one of his hands, and holding it between both hers; " no harm can—no harm shall be-all you."

" Think not, sweet Miss Hope, it's for the perishing body I am thoughtful; for thy sake I would bare my neck to the slayer ; to thy least wish I would give the remnant of my days; but I scruple if it be lawful for a Christian man to lend this aid to an idolater."

" Oh! is that all ? We have no time to answer such scruples now, but to-morrow. Master Cradock, I will show you that you greatly err;" and, as she said this, she proceeded, without any farther ceremony, to divest the old man of his wig, which she carefully adjusted on Magawisca's head. Both parties were passive in her hands, Magawisca not seeming to relish, much better than Cradock, the false character she was assuming. Such was Cradock's habit-

ual deference to his young mistress^ that it was morally impossible for him to make any physical resistance to her movements; but neither his conscience nor his apprehensions for her would permit him to be silent when he felt a conviction that she was doing, and he was suffering, an act that was a plain transgression of a holy law.

" Stay thy hand," he said, in a beseeching voice, " and let not thy feet move so swiftly to destruction."

" Just raise your foot while I draw oflF this boot. Master Cradock."

He mechanically obeyed, but at the same time continued his admonition: "Was not Jehoshaphat reproved of Micaiah the prophet for going down to thehelpof Ahab?"

"Now the other foot, Master Cradock; there, that will do. Draw them on, Magawisca, right over your moccasins; quick, I beseech you."

" Was not the good King Josiah reproved in the matter of Pharaoh Necho ?"

" Oh, Magawisca! how shall I ever make your slender shoulders and straight back look anything like Master Cradock's broad, round shoulders ? One glance of Barnaby's dim old eyes will detect you. Ah! this will do; I will bind the pillow on with the sheet." While she was uttering the device, she accomplished it. She then threw Magawisca's mantle over her expanded shoulders, and Cradock's cloak over all; and, finally, the wig was surmounted by the old man^s steeple-crowned hat " Now," she said.

almost screaming with joy at the transformation so suddenly effected, *f now^Magawisca, all depends on yourself; if you will but contrive to screen your face, and shuffle a little in your gait, all will go well."

The hope of liberty—of deliverance from her galling imprisonment—K)f escape beyond the power and dominion of her enemies, had now taken full possession of Magawisca; and the thought that she should owe her release to Everell and to Hope, who, m her imagination, was identified with him, filled her with emotions of joy resembUng those a saint may feel when she sees in vision the ministering angels sent to set her free from her earthly prison : " I will do all thou shalt command me, Hope Leslie; thou art indeed a spirit of light, and. love, and beauty."

" True, true, true," cried Cradock, losmg, in the instincts of his affection, the opposition.he had so valorously maintained, and his feelings flowing back into their accustomed channel; ^^thou woman in man's attire, it is given to thee to utter truth, even as of old lying oracles were wont to speak words of prophecy."

Hope had not, as may be imagined, stood still to listen to this long sentence^ uttered in her tutor's deliberate, broken manner, but in the mean while she had, with an almost supernatural celerity of movement, arranged everything to present the same aspect as when Bamaby first opened the door of the dungeon. She drew Cradock to the bed, seated him there, and wrapped the blanket about him as it had

enveloped Magawisca. " Oh! I hear Baniaby !'* she exclaimed ; " dear Master Cradock, sit a little straighter; there, that will do; turn a little more sideways—^you will not look so broad; there, that^s better."

" Miss Hope Leslie, ye have perverted the simple-minded.'*

"Say not another word, Master Cradock; pray do not breathe so like a trumpet—ah, I see it is my fault." She readjusted the blanket, which she had drawn so close over the unresisting creature's face as almost to suffocate him. " Now, Magawisca, sit down on this stool—your back to the door, close to Master Cradock, as if you were talking with him." All was now arranged to her mind, and she spent the remainmg half instant in whispering consolations to Oradock: " Do not let yom: heart fail you, my good, kind tutor; in one hour you shall be relieved," Cradock would have again explained that he was regardless of any personal risk, but she interrupted him : " Nay, you need not speak; I know that is not your present care, but do not be troubled; we are commanded to do good to all ; thej-ain falleth on the just and the unjust; and if we are to help our ene^ my's ox out of the pit, much more our enemy. This best of all thy kind services shall be requited. I will be a child to thy old age—hush! there's Bar-naby!"

She moved a few steps from the parties, and when the jailer opened the door, she appeared to be awaiting him. " Just in season, good Master Tuttle; my

tutor has notbing more to say, and I am as impatient to go as you are to have me gone."

" It is only for your own sake that I am impatient, Miss Hope; let us make all haste out." He took up the lamp which he had left in the cell, trimmed it, and raised the wick, that it might better serve to guide them through the dark passage.

Hope was alarmed by the sudden increase of light: " Lend me your lamp, Bamaby," she said, " to look for my glove ; where can I have dropped it ? It must be somewhere about here. I shall find it in a minute, Master Cradock 3 you had best go on while I am looking."

Magawisca obeyed the hint, while Hope, in her pretended search, so skilfully managed the light that not a ray of it touched Magawisca's face. She had passed Barnaby: Hope thought the worst danger escaped. " Ah, here it is," she said; and, by way of precaution, she added, in the most careless tone she could assume, " I will carry the lamp for you, Barnaby."

" No, no, thank you. Miss Leslie, I always like to carry the light myself; and, besides, I must take a good look at you both before I lock the door. It is a rule I always observe in such cases, lest I should be left to ^ brood the eggs the fox has sucked.^ It is a prudent rule, I assure you, always to be sure you take out the same you let in. Here, Master Cradock, turn round, if you please, to the light, just for formes sake."

^lagawisca bad advanced several steps into the

passage, and Hope's first impulse was to scream to her to run; but a second and happier thought prevailed; and taking her shawl, which was hanging negligently over her arm, she contrived, in throwing it over her head, to sweep it across Barnaby's lamp in such a way as to extinguish the light beyond the possibility of recovery, as Barnaby proved by vainly trying to blow it again into a flame.

" Do not put yourself to any farther trouble about it, Barnaby; it was all my fault; but it matters not —^you know the way; just give me your arm, and Master Cradock can take hold of my shawl, and we shall grope through this passage without any difficulty."

Barnaby arranged himself as she suggested, and then, hoping her sudden action had broken the chain of his thoughts, and determined he should not have time to resume it, she said, " When you write to Ruth, Barnaby, be sure you commend me kindly to her; and tell her that I have done the baby-linen L promised her, and that I hope little Barnaby will prove as good a man as his grandfather."

" Oh, thank ye. Miss Hope: I trust, by the blessing of the Lord, much better; but they do.say," added the old man, with a natural ancestral complacency, " they do say he favours me; he's got the true Tuttle chin, the little dog!"

"You cannot tell yet whether he is gifted in psalmody, Barnaby ?"

" La, Miss Hope, you must mean to joke Why, little Barnaby is not five weeks old till next Wednes-

VoL. n.-5

day morning, half past three o'clock. But I'm as sure he will take to psalmody as if I knew; there never was a Tuttle that did not."

Our heroine thus happily succeeded in beguiling the way to the top of the staircase, where a passage diverged to the outer door, and there, with many thanks and assurances of future gratitude, she bade Barnaby good-night; and, anticipating any observation he might make of Cradock's silence, she said, " My tutor seems to have fallen into one of his reveries ; but never mind; another time he will remember to greet and thank you."

Barnaby was turning away from the door, when he recollected that the sudden extinction of the. candle had prevented his intended professional inspection. " Miss Hope Leslie," he cried, " be so good as to stay one moment, while I get a light; the night is so murky that I cannot see, even here, the lineaments of Master Cradock's complexion."

" Pshaw, Barnaby, for mercy's sake do not detain us now for such an idle ceremony; you see the linear merUs of that form, I thmk; we must have been witches, indeed, to have transformed Magawisca's slender person into that enormous bulk; but one sense is as good as another. Speak, Master Gradock," she added, relying on Magawisca's discretion. " Oh, he is in one of his silent fits, and a stroke of lightning would scarcely bring a sound from him: so goodnight, Barnaby," she concluded, gently putting him back and shutting the door.

"It is marvellous," thought Barnaby, as he re-

luctantly acquiesced in relmquishing the letter of his duty, " bow this young creature spins me round, at her will, Uke a top. I think she keeps the key to all hearts."

With this natural reflection he retired to rest, without taking the trouble to return to the dungeon, which he would have done if he had really felt one apprehension of the fraud that had been there perpetrated.

At the instant the prison door was closed, Maga-wisca divested herself of her hideous disguise, and proceeded on with Hope to the place where Everell was awaiting them with the necessary means to transport her beyond the danger of pursuit But, while our heroine is hastening onward with a bounding step and an exulting heart, a cruel conspiracy is maturing against her.

CHAPTER XI.

** Sisters! weave the web of death: Sisters! cease; the work is done."

The Fatal Sistarg.

The conversation overheard by the faithless Jen-net, and communicated with all its particulars to Sir Philip Gardiner, was, as must have been already conjectured by our readers, the contrivance for Mag-awisca's liberation. It appeared by her statement that Hope, and Magawisca, unattended, would, at a late hour of the evening, pass through a part of the town unfrequented after dark ; that, at a fixed time, Everell would l)e in waiting for them at a certain landing-place. Before they reached there, Sir Philip knew there were many points where they might be intercepted, without the possibility of Everell's coming to their rescue.

Sir Philip was entangled in the meshes of his own weaving; extrication was possible—nay, he believed probable; but there was a fearful chance against him. He had now to baffle well-founded suspicions; to disprove facts; to double his guard over his assumed and tiresome character; and, after all, human art could not secure him from accidents, which would bring in their train immediate disgrace and defeat His passion for Miss Leslie had been stimulated by the obstacles which opposed it. His hopes were

certainly abated by her indifference; but self-love, and its minister vanity, are inexhaustible in their resources ; and Sir Philip trusted for better success in future to his own powers and to feminine weakness; for he, like other proiBigates, believed that there was no woman, however pure and lofty her seeming, but she was commanded

" By such poor passion as the maid that milks, And does the meanest chares •"

yet this process of winning the prize was slow, and the result, alas! uncertain.

Jennet's information suggested a master-stroke jjy which he could at once achieve his object—a single stroke by which he could carry the citadel he had so long and painfully besieged. If an evil spirit had been abroad on a corrupting mission, he could not have selected a subject more eager to grasp temptation than Sir Philip, nor a fitter agent than Jennet, nor have contrived a more infernal plot against an "innocent and aidless lady'' than that which we must now disclose.

Chaddock (whose crew had occasioned such danger and alarm to Miss Leslie) was still riding in the bay with his vessel. Sir Philip had formerly some acquaintance with this man. He knew him to be a •desperate fellow; that he had once been in confederacy with the bucaniers of Tortuga—the self-styled " Brothers of the Coast;" and he believed that he might be persuaded to enter upon any new and lawless enterprise.

Accordingly, from Governor Winthrop's he fe-S 2

paired to Chaddock's vessel, and presented such motives to him, and offered such rewards, as induced the wretch to enter heartily into his designs. Fortunately for their purposes, the vessel was ready for sea, and they decided to commence their voyage that very night All Miss Leslie's paternal connexions were on the royal side ; her fortune was still m their hands, and subject to their control. " If the lady's reluctance to accept his hand was not subdued before the end of the voyage" (a chance scarcely worth consideration). Sir Philip said, " she must then submit to stern necessity, which even a woman's will could not oppose." After their arrival in England, he meant to abandon himself to the disposal of Fortune ; but he promised Cbaddock that he, with certain other cavaliers, whom he asserted had already meditated such an enterprise, would, with the remnant of their fortunes, embark with him, and enrol themselves among the adventurers of Tortuga.

It E&ay be remembered by our readers, that early in our history, some glimmerings of a plot of this nature appear, from a letter of Sir Philip's, even then to have dawned on his mind; but other purposes had intervened and put it off till now, when it was ripened by sudden and fit opportunity.

'The detail of operations being all settled by these worthy confederates. Sir Philip, at nightfall, went once more to the town, secretly withdrew his baggage from his lodgings, and bidding Rosa, who, in sorrow and despair, mechanically obeyed, to follow, he returned to the vessel, humming, as he took his

last look at the scene where he had played so iin« worthy a part,

" Kind Boston, adieu ! part we must, though 'tis pity, But Vm made for mankind—all the world is my city."

Sir Philip, in his arrangements with Chaddock, excused himself from being one of the partj^who were to effect the abduction of Miss Leslie. Perhaps the external habits of a gentleman, and, it may be, some little remnant of human kindness (for we would not believe that man ca# become quite a fiend), rendered him reluctant to take a personal part in the cruel outrage he had planned and prepared. Chad-dock himself commanded the enterprise, and was to be accompanied by four of* the most daring of his crew.

• The night was moonless, and not quite clean "It is becoming dark—extremely dark, captain," Sir Philip said, in giving his last instructions; "but it is impossible you should make a mistake. Miss Leslie's companion, as I told you, may be disguised —she may wear a man's or woman's apparel—but you have an infallible guide in her height ; she is at least half a head taller than Miss Leslie. It may be well, when you get to the wharf, to divide your party, agreeing on the signal of a whistle. But I rely on your skill and discretion."

" You may rely on it," replied the hardy desperado. " He who has boarded Spanish galleons, stormed castles, pillaged cities, violated churches, and broken open monasteries, may be intrusted with the capture of a single defenceless girl."

Sir Philip recoiled from trusting his prey in the clutches of this tiger, but there was no alternative. " Have a care, Chaddock," he said, " that she is treated with all due and possible gentleness."

" Ay, ay, Sir Philip—^kill, but not hurt!" A smile of dqjrision accompanied his words.

" You haveT)ledged me the honour of a gentleman," said Sir Philip, in an alarmed tone.

" Ay! the only bond of free souls. Remember, Sir Philip," he added,Jbr he perceived the suspicion the knight would fain have hidden in his inmost soul, " remember our motto: * Trusted, we are true; suspected, we betray.' I have pledged my honour; better than parchment and seal—if you confide in it."

" Oh, I do—entirely—impUcitly ; I have not the shadow of a doubt, my dear fellow*"

Chaddock turned away, laughing contemptuously at the ineffectual hypocrisy of Sir Philip, and ordered the men who were to be left in charge of the vessel to have everything in readiness to sail at the moment of his return. " And whither bound, captain ?" demanded one of his sailors.

" To hell!" was his ominous reply. This answer, seemingly accidental, was long remembered and repeated, as a proof that the unhappy wretch was constrained, thus involuntarily, to pronounce his approaching doom.

Once more, before he left the vessel. Sir Phihp addressed him : " Be in no haste to return," he said; " the lady was not to leave Governor Winthrop's be-

fore half past eight; she may meet with unforeseen detentions; you will reach the dock a few minutes before nine. Take your stations as I have directed, and Fortune cannot thwart us if you are patient; wait till ten—eleven—^twelve—or one, if need be. Again, I entreat there may be no unnecessary haste; I shall have no apprehensions; I repose on your fidelity.^^