saw that Abel had not only returned, but was sleeping soundly by his brother's side.

Grace set her house in order took the work she had finished to her employer-came back, and prepared breakfast, of which her husband, having by this time also returned, partook. Now he was neither the tyrant whose threat still rung in her ears, nor the reckless bravo of the common ; he appeared that morning, at least so his wife fancied, more like the being she had loved so fondly and so long.

I will sleep, Grace," he said, when their meal was finished-" I will sleep for an hour; and to-morrow we shall have a better breakfast." He called his son into the bed-room, where a few words passed between them. Immediately after, Grace went into the little chamber to fetch her bonnet. She would not trust herself to look upon the sleeper; but her lips moved as if in prayer; and even her children still remember that, as she passed out of the cottage-door, she had a flushed and agitated appearance.

"Good morning, Mrs. Huntley," said her old neighbour, Mrs. Craddock: "Have you heard the news? Ah! these are sad times-bad people going—” "True, true!" replied poor Grace, as she hurried onwards, "I know-I heard it all—"

Mrs. Craddock looked after her, much surprised at her abruptness.

"I was coming down to you, Grace," said her father, standing so as to arrest her progress; "I wished to see

if there was any chance of the child Abel's returning to his exercises; as this is a holiday, I thought——” "Come with me," interrupted Grace, "come with me, father; and we will make a rare holiday."

She hurried the feeble old man along the road leading to the rectory; but returned no answer to his inquiries. The servant told her, when she arrived at her destination, that his master was engaged—particularly engaged-could not be disturbed-Sir Thomas Purcel was with him; and, as the man spoke, the study door opened, and Sir Thomas crossed the hall.

"Come back with me, sir!" exclaimed Grace Huntley, eagerly; "I can tell you all you want to know." The baronet shook off the hand she had laid upon his arm as if she were a maniac. Grace appeared to read the expression of his countenance. "I am not mad, Sir Thomas Purcel," she continued, in a suppressed tremulous voice, “not mad, though I may be so soon. Keep back these people, and return with Mr. Glasscott knows I am not mad!"

me.

She passed into the study with a resolute step, and held the door for Sir Thomas to enter; her father followed also, as a child traces its mother's footsteps, and looked around him, and at his daughter, with weak astonishment. One or two of the servants, who were loitering in the hall, moved as if they would have followed.

"Back, back, I say!" she repeated, "I need no witnesses, there will be enough of them soon. Mr.

Glasscott," she continued, closing the door, "hear me, while I am able to bear testimony, lest weakness -woman's weakness-overcome me, and I falter in the truth. In the broom-sellers' cottage, across the common, on the left side of the chimney, concealed by a large flat stone, is a hole-a den; there much of the property taken from Sir Thomas Purcel's last night is concealed."

"I have long suspected these men-Smith, I think they call themselves; yet they are but two. Now, we have abundant proof that three men absolutely entered the house

"There was a third," murmured Grace, almost inaudibly.

"Who?"

"My-my-my husband!" and, as she uttered the word, she leaned against the chimney-piece for support, and buried her face in her hands.

The clergyman groaned audibly; he had known Grace from her childhood, and felt what the declaration must have cost her. Sir Thomas Purcel was cast in a sterner mould. "We are put clearly upon the track, Mr. Glasscott," he said, "and must follow it forthwith; yet there is something most repugnant to my feelings in finding a woman thus herald her husband to destruction

"It was to save my children from sin," exclaimed Grace, starting forward with an energy that appalled

them all: "God in heaven, whom I call to witness, knows, that though I would sooner starve than taste of the fruits of his wickedness, yet I could not betray the husband of my bosom to-to-I dare not think what! I tried-I laboured to give my offspring honest bread; I neither asked nor received charity; with my hands I laboured, and blessed the Power that enabled me to do so. If we are poor, we will be honest, was my maxim and my boast; but he-my husband, returned; he taught my boy to lie-to steal; and when I remonstrated-when I prayed, with many tears, that he would cease to train our-ay, our child for destruction, he mocked-scorned-told me that, one by one, I should be bereaved of my children, if I thwarted his purposes; and that I might seek in vain for them through the world, until I saw their names recorded in the book of shame! Gentlemen, this was no idle threat-last night Abel was taken from me

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“I knew there must have been a fourth,” interrupted Sir Thomas, coldly; we must have the boy also secured."

The wretched mother, who had not imagined that any harm could result to her son, stood as if a thunderbolt had transfixed her-her hands clenched and extended her features rigid and blanched-her frame perfectly erect, and motionless as a statue. The schoolmaster, during the whole of this scene, had been completely bewildered, until the idea of his

grandchild's danger, or disappearance, he knew not which, took possession of his mind; and, filled with the single thought his faculties had the power of grasping at a time, he came forward to the table at which Mr. Glasscott was seated; and, respectfully uncovering his grey hairs, his simple countenance presenting a strong contrast to the agonized ironbound features of his daughter, he addressed himself to the worthy magistrate :

"I trust you will cause instant search to be made for the child Abel, whom your reverence used kindly to regard with especial favour."

He repeated this sentence at least half a dozen times, while the gentlemen were issuing orders to the persons assembled for the apprehension of the burglars, and some of the females of the family were endeavouring to restore Grace to animation. At last, Sir Thomas Purcel turned suddenly round upon Abel Darley, and, in his stentorian tone, bawled out, “ And who are you?"

"The schoolmaster of Craythorpe, so please you, sir-that young woman's father-and one whose heart is broken!"

So saying, he burst into tears; and his wail was. very sad, like that of an afflicted child. Presently there was a stir among the little crowd-a murmur— and then two officers ushered Joseph Huntley and his son into the apartment.