"Then my reply is," answered Graceand her eyes flashed, and her blood rose, effervescing to her veins, and crimsoned her cheek-"my reply is," repeated she, "that I'll not comply with your request. His award, whatever it may be, is mine, if it be death itself."

แ Dear, dear, dear!" ejaculated aunt Deborah. "What can be done, Blanch, my

love, what can be done?"

"Let not another word pass upon the subject to-night," replied Blanch, hurriedly, seeing the excited state of her companion. "We will stroll in the laurel walk," continued she," and talk of other things."

"Do, pray do," rejoined Grace; " and yet," continued she with fervour, "if you would but speak, as I could hear you to doomsday!"

แ

"But, dear Grace," returned Blanch,

you are so wildly infatuated, that it is impossible to conform to your wishes. They

are so extravagant," continued she, "that however much we could wish to yield to them, you place it beyond the pale of our so doing."

"Within or without it," added Grace, "there'll be no swerving from my fixed and unalterable purpose."

CHAPTER XIII.

"There's nothing in this world can make me joy;
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,

Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man."

FOR many a long, weary, and lonely hour, Ned Swiftfoot had remained, like some figure carved from stone, upon the settle of his dungeon, ruminating upon a succession of gloomy thoughts. At length the clanking

of bolts and bars roused him from his reverie,

and soon afterwards the ill-favoured gaoler made his appearance.

"A wisitor," briefly announced he.

he to come in ?"

"Is

"What's his name?" returned the prisoner. "Can't tell," rejoined the keeper, "as I didn't ask, and he didn't say."

"Let him enter," said Ned;

matters not who it is."

"for it

"Wery good," replied the gaoler, adding, as he flung the door of the cell wide open, 66 "you may come in there; for it matters not who ye are or what ye are. Ha, ha, ha!"

"There's no occasion to mock my words or to laugh at my misery!" exclaimed Ned passionately, springing to his feet, and making his chains and manacles ring again.

"There's music for ye!" said the gaoler, striding from the cell. "Oh! but you're a lively bird, although caged, when stirred up! Ha, ha, ha!—there's music for ye!" and then he jingled the huge bunch of keys swinging at his girdle, and danced clumsily

away.

"What, Ned, my heart of oak!" ejaculated Mr Fulton, entering the dungeon, and, catching the prisoner by his handcuffed wrists, he gave them a good, honest squeeze of sincere friendship and pleasure at again

seeing his companion and partner in many an unlawful expedition.

"I thought and hoped," replied the prisoner, returning the pressure of the ratcatcher's gripe with interest, "that you

would have been here before."

"An' well, Ned," rejoined Mr Fulton, "and so did I."

Why didn't you come, then ?" returned Ned. "And where is my mother, that she doesn't visit me ?"

"All in good time, lad, all in good time, lad," added the ratcatcher, in the endeavour to repress the prisoner's fretting impatience.

"Tell me quickly, however," said Ned, taking a seat by the already resting Mr Fulton.

"Then to the first part of the question," replied he; "I didn't come before, because I could not have been of any use before. And to the last part of it, your mother hasn't been to see you, because she couldn't."