"Nay, Morris has misreported me," answered "You need not fear, Alice," he said in his heart; Julian; "I did but lift her up stairs to be rid of her "not even your hand would I purchase by aught importunity; for she chose, in her way, to contest which resembled unworthy or truckling compliance my going abroad in such an obstinate manner, that with tenets which my heart disowns; and well II had no other mode of getting rid of her." know, were I mean enough to do so, even the authority of thy father were insufficient to compel thee to the ratification of so mean a bargain. But let me hope better things. Bridgenorth, though strongminded and sagacious, is haunted by the fears of Popery, which are the bugbears of his sect. My residence in the family of the Countess of Derby is more than enough to inspire him with suspicions of my faith, from which, thank Heaven, I can vindicate myself with truth and a good conscience."

course of life; and the events of the day had given | meet with from a valued friend, while she confesses Peveril too much matter for reflection, to permit his a fault, pleads an apology, or solicits a reconciliation. starting amusing or interesting topics of conver- In short, the whole face was so much alive with exsation. After having passed the flask in silence pression, that Julian, though her aspect was 80 betwixt them once or twice, they withdrew each into familiar to him, could hardly persuade himself but a separate embrasure of the windows of the dining that her countenance was entirely new. The wild, apartment, which, such was the extreme thickness fantastic, elvish vivacity of the features, seemed of the wall, were deep enough to afford a solitary totally vanished, and had given place to a sorrowful, recess, separated, as it were, from the chamber itself. tender, and pathetic cast of countenance, aided by In one of these sat the Earl of Derby, busied in look- the expression of the large dark eyes, which, as they ing over some of the new publications which had were turned up towards Julian, glistened with moisbeen forwarded from London; and at intervals con- ture, that, nevertheless, did not overflow the eyelids. fessing how little power or interest these had for him, Conceiving that her unwonted manner arose from by yawning fearfully as he looked out on the solitary a recollection of the dispute which had taken place expanse of waters, which, save for the flight of a betwixt them in the morning, Peveril was anxious flock of sea-gulls, or of a solitary cormorant, offered to restore the little maiden's gayety, by making her so little of variety to engage his attention. sensible that there dwelt on his mind no unpleasing recollection of their quarrel. He smiled kindly, and shook her hand in one of his; while, with the familiarity of one who had known her from childhood, he stroked down her long dark tresses with the other. She stooped her head, as if ashamed, and, at the same time, gratified with his caresses-and he was thus induced to continue them, until, under the veil of her rich and abundant locks, he suddenly felt his other hand which she still held fast in hers, slightly touched with her lips, and, at the same time, moistened with a tear. At once, and for the first time in his life, the danger of being misinterpreted in his familiarity with a creature to whom the usual modes of explanation were a blank, occurred to Julian's mind; and, hastily withdrawing his hand, and changing his posture, he asked of her, by a sign which custom had rendered familiar, whether she brought any message to him from the Countess. In an instant Fenella's whole deportment was changed. She started up, and arranged herself in her seat with the rapidity of lightning; and, at the same moment, with one turn of her hand, braided her length of locks into a natural head-dress of the most beautiful kind. There was, indeed, when she looked up, a blush still visible on her dark features; but their melancholy and languid expression had given place to that of wild and restless vivacity, which was most common to them. Her eyes gleamed with more than their wonted fire, and her glances were more piercingly wild and unsettled than usual. To Julian's inquiry, she answered, by laying her hand on her heart-a motion by which she always indicated the Countess-and rising, and taking the direction of her apartment, she made a sign to Julian to follow her.

Peveril, on his part, held a pamphlet also in his hand, without giving, or affecting to give it, even his occasional attention. His whole soul turned upon the interview which he had had that day with Alice Bridgenorth, and with her father; while he in vain endeavoured to form any hypothesis which could explain to him why the daughter, to whom he had no reason to think himself indifferent, should have been so suddenly desirous of their eternal separation, while her father, whose opposition he so much dreaded, seemed to be at least tolerant of his addresses. He could only suppose, in explanation, that Major Bridgenorth had some plan in prospect, which it was in his own power to further or to impede; while, from the demeanour, and indeed the language, of Alice, he had but too much reason to apprehend that her father's favour could only be conciliated by something, on his own part, approaching to dereliction of principle. But by no conjecture which he could form, could he make the least guess concerning the nature of that compliance, of which Bridgenorth seemed desirous. He could not imagine, notwithstanding Alice had spoken of treachery, that her father would dare to propose to him uniting in any plan by which the safety of the Countess, or the security of her little kingdom of Man, was to be endangered. This carried such indelible disgrace in the front, that he could not suppose the scheme proposed to him by any who was not prepared to defend with his sword, upon the spot, so flagrant an insult offered to his honour. And such a proceeding was totally inconsistent with the conduct of Major Bridgenorth in every other respect, besides his being too calm and cold-blooded to permit of his putting a mortal affront upon the son of his old neighbour, to whose mother he confessed so much of obligation.

While Peveril in vain endeavoured to extract something like a probable theory out of the hints thrown out by the father and by the daughter-not without the additional and lover-like labour of endeavouring to reconcile his passion to his honour and conscience -he felt something gently pull him by the cloak, He unclasped his arms, which, in meditation, had been folded on his bosom; and withdrawing his eyes from the vacant prospect of sea-coast and sea which they perused, without much consciousness upon what they rested, he beheld beside him the little dumb maiden, the elfin Fenella. She was seated on a low cushion or stool, with which she had nestled close to Peveril's side, and had remained there for a short space of time, expecting, no doubt, he would become conscious of her presence; until, tired of remaining unnoticed, she at length solicited his attention in the manner which we have described. Startled out of nis reverie by this intimation of her presence, he looked down, and could not, without interest, behold this singular and helpless being.

Her hair was unloosened, and streamed over her shoulders in such length, that much of it lay upon the ground, and in such quantity, that it formed a dark veil, or shadow, not only around her face, but over her whole slender and minute form. From the profusion of her tresses looked forth her small and dark, but well-formed features, together with the large and brilliant black eyes; and her whole countenance was composed into the imploring look of one who is doubtful of the reception she is about to

The distance was not great betwixt the dining apartment and that to which Peveril now followed his mute guide; yet, in going thither, he had time enough to suffer cruelly from the sudden suspicion, that this unhappy girl had misinterpreted the uniform kindness with which he had treated her, and hence come to regard him with feelings more tender than those which belong to friendship. The misery which such a passion was likely to occasion to a creature in her helpless situation, and actuated by such lively feelings, was great enough to make him refuse credit to the suspicion which pressed itself upon his mind; while, at the same time, he formed the internal resolution so to conduct himself towards Fenella, as to check such misplaced sentiments, if indeed she unhappily entertained them towards him.

When they reached the Countess's apartment, they found her with writing implements, and many sealed letters, before her. She received Julian with her usual kindness; and having caused him to be seated, beckoned to the mute to resume her needle. In an instant Fenella was seated at an embroideringframe; where, but, for the movement of her dexterous fingers, she might have seemed a statue, so little did she move from her work either head or eye. As her infirmity rendered her presence no bar to the most confidential conversation, the Countess proceeded to add:s Peveril as if they had been literally alone together.

Julian," she said, "I am not now about to complain to you of the sentiments and conduct of Derby. He is your friend-he is my son. He has kindness of heart and vivacity of talent; and yet”

"Dearest lady," said Peveril, "why will you dis- | to the bloody Papists, and favourer of their infernal tress yourself with fixing your eye on deficiencies schemes of cruelty.' which arise rather from a change of times and manners, than any degeneracy of my noble friend? Let him be once engaged in his duty, whether in peace or war, and let me pay the penalty if he acquits not himself becoming his high station."

Ay," replied the countess; "but when will the call of duty prove superior to that of the most idle or trivial indulgence which can serve to drive over the lazy hour? His father was of another mould; and how often was it my lot to entreat that he would spare, from the rigid discharge of those duties which his high station imposed, the relaxation absolutely necessary to recruit his health and his spirits!"

'Still, my dearest lady," said Peveril, "you must allow, that the duties to which the times summoned your late honoured lord, were of a more stirring, as well as a more peremptory cast, than those which await your son."

"I know not that," said the Countess. "The wheel appears to be again revolving; and the present period is not unlikely to bring back such scenes as my younger years, witnessed.-Well, be it so; they will not find Charlotte de la Tremouille broken in spirit, though depressed by years. It was even on this subject I would speak with you, my young friend. Since our first early acquaintance-when I saw your gallant behaviour as I issued forth to your childish eye, like an apparition, from my place of concealment in your father's castle-it has pleased me to think you a true son of Stanley and Peveril. I trust your nurture in this family has been ever suited to the esteem in which I hold you.-Nay, I desire no thanks. I have to require of you, in return, a piece of service, not perhaps entirely safe to yourself, but which, as times are circumstanced, no person is so well able to render to my house."

What

But what say those who are most likely to be affected by these wild reports?" said Julian. say the English Catholics themselves?-a numerous and wealthy body, comprising so many noble

names?"

"Their hearts are dead within them," said the Countess. "They are like sheep penned up in the shambles, that the butcher may take his choice among them. In the obscure and brief communications which I have had by a secure hand, they do but anticipate their own utter ruin, and ours so general is the depression, so universal the despair."

But the King," said Peveril,-"the King and the Protestant royalists-what say they to this growing tempest?"

"Charles," replied the Countess, "with his usual selfish prudence, truckles to the storm; and will let cord and axe do their work on the most innocent men in his dominions, rather than lose an hour of pleasure in attempting their rescue. And, for the royalists, either they have caught the general delirium which has seized on Protestants in general, or they stand aloof and neutral, afraid to show any interest in the unhappy Catholics, lest they be judged altogether such as themselves, and abettors of the fearful conspiracy in which they are alleged to be engaged. In fact, I cannot blame them. It is hard to expect that mere compassion for a persecuted sect-or, what is yet more rare, an abstract love of justice-should be powerful enough to engage men to expose themselves to the awakened fury of a whole people; for, in the present state of general agitation, whoever disbelieves the least tittle of the enormous improbabilities which have been accumulated by these wretched informers, is instantly hunted down, as one who would smother the discovery of the Plot. It is indeed an awful tempest; and, remote as we lie from its sphere, we must expect soon to feel its effects."

"Lord Derby already told me something of this," said Julian; "and that there were agents in this island whose object was to excite insulrection."

"Yes," answered the Countess, and her eye flashed fire as she spoke; "and had my advice been listened to, they had been apprehended in the very fact; and so dealt with, as to be a warning to all others how they sought this independent principality on such an errand. But my son, who is generally so culpably negligent of his own affairs, was pleased to assume the management of them upon this crisis."

"You have been ever my good and noble lady," answered Peveril, "as well as my kind, and I may say maternal, protectress. You have a right to command the blood of Stanley in the veins of every oneYou have a thousand rights to command it in mine."* 'My advices from England," said the Countess, "resemble more the dreams of a sick man, than the regular information which I might have expected from such correspondents as mine; their expressions are like those of men who walk in their sleep, and speak by snatches of what passes in their dreams, It is said, a plot, real or fictitious, has been detected amongst the Catholics, which has spread far wider and more uncontrollable terror, than that of the fifth of November. Its outlines seem utterly incredible," and are only supported by the evidence of wretches, the meanest and most worthless in the creation; yet it is received by the credulous people of England with the most undoubting belief."

"This is a singular delusion, to rise without some real ground," answered Julian.'

"I am no bigot, cousin, though a- Catholic," replied the Countess. "I have long feared that the well-meant zeal of our priests for increasing converts, would draw on them the suspicion of the English nation. These efforts have been renewed with double energy since the Duke of York conformed to the Catholic faith; and the same event has doubled the hate and jealousy of the Protestants. So far, I fear, there may be just cause for suspicion, that the Duke is a better Catholic than an Englishman, and that bigotry has involved him, as avarice, or the needy greed of a prodigal, has engaged his brother, in relations with France, whereof England may have too much reason to complain. But the gross, thick, and palpable fabrications of conspiracy and murder, blood and fire-the imaginary armies the intended massacres-form a collection of falsehoods, that one would have thought indigestible, even by the coarse appetite of the vulgar for the marvellous and horriole; but which are, nevertheless, received as truth by both Houses of Parliament, and questioned by no one who is desirous to escape the odious appellation of friend The reader cannot have forgotten that the Earl of Derby was bead of the great house of Stanley

"I am happy to learn, madam," answered Peveril, that the measures of precaution which my kinsman has adopted, have had the complete effect of disconcerting the conspiracy.'

"For the present, Julian; but they should have been such as would have made the boldest tremble, to think of such infringement of our rights in future. But Derby's present plan is fraught with greater danger; and yet there is something in it of gallantry, which has my sympathy."

"What is it, madam?" inquired Julian, anxiously; and in what can I aid it, or avert its dangers?" "He purposes," said the Countess, "instantly to set forth for London. He is, he says, not merely the feudal chief of a small island, but one of the noble Peers of England, who must not remain in the security of an obscure and distant castle, when his name, or that of his mother, is slandered before his prince and people. He will take his place, he says, in the House of Lords, and publicly demand justice for the insult thrown on his house, by perjured and interested witnesses."

"It is a generous resolution, and worthy of my friend," said Julian Peveril. "I will go with him, and share his fate, be what it may."

"Alas, foolish boy!" answered the Countess, "as well may you ask a hungry lion to feel compassion, as a prejudiced and furious people to do justice. They are like the madman at the height of frenzy, who murders without compunction his best and dearest friend; and only wonders and wails over his own cruelty, when he is recovered from his delirium."

"Pardon me, dearest lady," said Julian, "this cannot be. The noble and generous people of England cannot be thus strangely misled. Whatever prepossessions may be current among the mere vulgar, the Houses of Legislature cannot be deeply infected by them-they will remember their own dignity." "Alas! cousin," answered the Countess, "when did Englishmen, even of the highest degree, remember any thing, when hurried away by the violence of party feeling? Even those who have too much sense to believe in the incredible fictions which gull the multitude, will beware how they expose them, if their own political party can gain a momentary advantage by their being accredited. It is amongst such, too, that your kinsman has found friends and associates. Neglecting the old friends of his house as too grave and formal companions for the humour of the times, his intercourse has been with the versatile Shaftesbury-the mercurial Buckingham-men who would not hesitate to sacrifice to the popular Moloch of the day, whatsoever, or whomsoever-whose ruin could propitiate the deity.-Forgive a mother's tears, kinsman; but I see the Scaffold at Bolton again erected. If Derby goes to London while these bloodhounds are in full cry, obnoxious as he is, and I have made him by my religious faith, and my conduct in this island, he dies his father's death. And yet upon what other course to resolve !''

drowning man is invived in his fate, if he permit the sufferer to grapple with him.'

"It shall be as you please, madam," said Peveril ; "I am ready to depart upon half an hour's notice." "This night, then," said the Countess, after a moment's pause-"this night I will arrange the most secret means of carrying your generous project into effect; for I would not excite that prejudice against you, which will instantly, arise, were it known you had so lately left this island, and its Popish lady. You will do well, perhaps, to use a feigned name in London."

"Pardon me, madam," said Julian; "I will do nothing that can draw on me unnecessary attention; but to bear a feigned name, or affect any disguise beyond living with extreme privacy, would, I think, be unwise as well as unworthy; and what, if challenged, I might find some difficulty in assigning a reason for, consistent with perfect fairness of intentions."

"I believe you are right," answered the Countess, after a moment's consideration; and then added, "You propose, doubtless, to pass through Derbyshire, and visit Martindale Castle?"

"I should wish it, madam, certainly," replied Peveril, “did time permit, and circumstances render it advisable."

"Of that," said the Countess, "you must yourself "Let me go to London, madam," said Peveril, judge. Despatch is, doubtless, desirable; on the other much moved by the distress of his patroness; "your hand, arriving from your own family-seat, you will be ladyship was wont to rely something on my judg-less an object of doubt and suspicion, than if you ment. I will act for the best-will communicate with posted up from hence, without even visiting your those whom you point out to me, and only with them; parents. You must be guided in this,-in all,-by and I trust soon to send you information that this your own prudence. Go, my dearest son; for to me delusion, however strong it may now be, is in the you should be dear as a son-go, and prepare for your course of passing away; at the worst, I can apprize journey. I will get ready some despatches, and a you of the danger, should it menace the Earl or your-supply of money-Nay, do not object. Am I not your self; and may be able also to point out the means by mother; and are you not discharging a son's duty? which it may be eluded." Dispute not my right of defraying your expenses. Nor is this all; for, as I must trust your zeal and prudence to act in our behalf when occasion shall demand, I will furnish you with effectual recommendations to our friends and kindred, entreating and enjoining them to render whatever aid you may require, either for your own protection, or the advancement of what you may propose in our favour."

The Countess listened with a countenance in which the anxiety of maternal affection, which prompted her to embrace Peveril's generous offer, struggled with her native disinterested and generous disposition. "Think what you ask of me Julian," she replied, with a sigh. "Would you have me expose the life of my friend's son to those perils to which I refuse my own?-No, never!"

his father's assistance; and the Countess put into his hand bills of exchange to the amount of two hundred pounds, upon a merchant in the city. She then dismissed Julian for the space of an hour; after which, she said, she must again require his presence.

Peveril made no farther opposition to an arrange"Nay, but, madam," replied Julian, "I do not run ment, which in truth the moderate state of his own the same risk-my person is not known in London-finances rendered almost indispensable, unless with my situation, though not obscure in my own country, is too little known to be noticed in that huge assemblage of all that is noble and wealthy. No whisper, I presume, however indirect, has connected my name with the alleged conspiracy. I am a Protestant, above all; and can be accused of no intercourse, direct or indirect, with the Church of Rome. My connexions also lie amongst those, who, if they do not, or cannot, befriend me, cannot at least be dangerous to me. In a word, I run no danger where the Earl might incur great peril."

"Alas!" said the Countess of Derby, "all this generous reasoning may be true; but it could only be listened to by a widowed mother. Selfish as I am, I cannot but reflect that my kinswoman has, in all events, the support of an affectionate husband-such is the interested reasoning to which we are not ashamed to subject our better feelings!"

The preparations for his journey were not of a nature to divert the thoughts which speedily pressed on him. He found that half an hour's conversation had once more completely changed his immediate prospects and plans for the future. He had offered to the Countess of Derby a service, which her uniform kindness had well deserved at his hand; but, by her ac cepting it, he was upon the point of being separated from Alice Bridgenorth, at a time when she was become dearer to him than ever, by her avowal of mutual passion. Her image rose before him, such as he had that day pressed her to his bosom-her voice was in his ear, and seemed to ask whether he could desert "Do not call it so, madam," answered Peveril; her in the crisis which every thing seemed to an"think of me but as the younger brother of my kins-nounce as impending. But Julian Peveril, his youth man. You have ever done by me the duties of a considered, was strict in judging his duty, and severely mother; and have a right to my filial service, were resolved in executing it. He trusted not his imaginait at a risk ten times greater than a journey to Lon- tion to pursue the vision which presented itself; but don, to inquire into the temper of the times. I will resolutely seizing his pen, wrote to Alice the followinstantly go and announce my departure to the Earl." ing letter, explaining his situation, as far as justice to Stay, Julian," said the Countess; "if you must the Countess permitted him to do so :make this journey in our behalf,-and, alas! I have not generosity, enough to refuse your noble proffer, you must go alone, and without communication with Derby. I know him well; his lightness of mind is free from selfish baseness; and for the world, would he not suffer you to leave Man without his company. And if he went with you, your noble and disinterested kindness would be of no avail-you would but share his ruin, as the swimmer who attempts to save a VOL. IV. 2 B

"I leave you, dearest Alice," thus ran the letter. "I leave you; and though, in doing so, I but obey the command you have laid on me, yet I can claim little merit for my compliance, since, without additional and most forcible reasons in aid of your orders, I fear I should have been unable to comply with them. But family affairs of importance compel me to absent myself from this island, for, I fear, more than one week. My thoughts, hopes, and wishes, will be on