The Sun.
London, England, 1865-12-07 00:00:00

AN AUDACIOUS WOOER.

"Beautiful Althea, marry me to-morrow, if it be only to
avert so evil a destiny, and outwit the devil and his allies,"
exclaimed a gay voice behind her. Althea, turning about
with a cry of surprise, recognised the veritable man whose
mysterious likeness she had just been contemplating in
Mereb's glass. Overcome with confusion, she started vio-
lently, staggered, and might have fallen to the ground had
not Phillipson caught her in his arms. He pressed her to
his bosom, and imprinted an unauthorised kiss on her
trembling lips at the same time.
"Major Phillipson, this is ill done of you," exclaimed
Alt`lea, as soon as she recovered her voice.
" How ill done, my life, my joy ? " cried he, audaciously
repeating the offence ; "this, I hope, is better."
" Leave me, sir; you cannot treat me with the respect
which is my due," said Althea indignantly, extricating
herself from his embrace.
Phillipson threw himself at her feet. "Pardon," he said,
"but my rapture at seeing you once more overcame my rea-
son. Nay, turn not thus away to conceal your faultless
attempts to conjure up a frown on thy fair face ; useless,
indeed, you disdain to bestow a smile on a soldier who has
just returned from a lost battle."
" A lost battle," exclaimed Althea anxiously.
" A skirmish, I should rather call it, which took place
in Lindale-close that morning between the rebel Rigby's
regular troops and the raw Cumberland muster which
Pennington, of Muncaster, and Col. Huddlestone had led
into Furness to fight for King Charles. I and some of our
loyal Lakers joined them at Dalston, where we slept last
night. But Briggs and his solemn crew met the other
roundheads at yon grey town of Ulverston, o'er sands.
They had prayers and psalm singing in Swartmoor at
daybreak, and we came to the tussle at Lindale. They
got the better of us after an hour's hard fighting, and we
had to scamper off, which irked me not a little ; but it was
the fortune of war, and I live in hope of better luck next
time we have a brush ; and now my charming cousin,
listen. You love me. I know you do, and are wretched
;„ my absoneii."
" Who told you so, audacious man ?" exclaimed Althea.
It was you who sent the witch woman to beguile me. I
know it was; yea, I'll tax her with it. Ha! She is gone,
but whither 2"
"No matter," replied Phillipson, •' Time is precious. I
cannot live without you, my Althea. My swift little
shallot is snugly moored hard by, and a few strokes of the
oars will land you on a fairy isle, where you shall reign as
queen, if you would deign to bear the burden of a poor but
faithful cavaliq."
"It cannot be," answered Althea, with a sigh.
Not heeding her denial, the impetuous lover, hearing
steps approaching, lifts Althea into his boat and
bears her off to his neighbouring castle, in the full
expectation that she will become his wife. This
arrangement, however, the lady indignantly rejects,
and demands to be set at liberty. The scene,
or rather the succession of scenes, that ensue are
cleverly imagined. Althea maintains her proud
determination, until Phillipson, whom nothing can
abash, becomes offended, and then the fair damsel
fears that she has gone too far. A reconciliation
takes place, and Phillipson departs to attack Briggs
in his own stronghold. Althea, while mourning
over his absence, is visited by a fortune-teller, or
prophetess of evil, who foretells her troubles in the
following sweet and plaintive lines, which, in the
last stanzas, shadow forth the mystery of the whole
story :

The battle is o'er,
But he comes not again ;
There's blood on the shore,
But he's not with the slain.

It were sweeter, to him,
That ye wept o'er his bier,
Than your eye should grow dim
With the tale you must hear

Ye parted in sorrow,
Yet dreamt not I weer
How dismal a morrow
Should rise from such e'en.

For the tears of your parting,
Fair maid, shall be sweet,
To those wildly starting
Again when ye meet.

Ye shall meet in that sadness
No words can declare,
And shall part in the madness
Of utter despair.
The direful truth too soon becomes manifes,
Phillipson is a prisoner in the hands of his enemy,
and is led forth to be executed in the court-yard of
Calgarth Hall. In this supreme moment Robin
the Devil maintains his characteristic demeanour.
THE PLACE OF EXECUTION.
Not remote from this spot, and in the full view of the
prisoner himself, two other men were employed in fram-
ing a rough coffin destined to receive his remains after
the murderous work of vengeance should be completed.
The preparations were surveyed with an undaunted eye
byPhillipson, as he stood between two roundhead soldiers.
The white scarf,which was wrapped about his sword-arm,
was literally soaked in blood ; he was without his cloak,
and bareheaded; his dress was altogether much disordered,
torn, and marked with sanguine stains, his bright ringlets
were dishevelled, and he occasionally shook them back from
his face in an impatient gesture, and more than once made
an effort to get his hands at liberty, which movement
caused Briggs, in spite of bodily pain and weakness, to
start from his chair and bawl to the men to look to their
prisoner at the peril of their lives.
Phillipson smiled scornfully at this, glanced carelessly
over the scene before him, and whistled " Prince Rupert's
Rant." Notwithstanding his fatigue and loss of blood
the awful circumstances in which he stood, and the
dreadful preparations he was compelled to witness, his
eye retained its wonted fire and his bearing its usual
daring intrepidity ; if he felt uneasiness at anything it was
at the vocal exertions of Samuel Stunner and the choir of
psalm-singers militant. Of these Briggs himself was no
less impatient than his victim, and, raising his hand, he
made a signal to Samuel Stunner to cease; but Samuel was
in the vary cream of a quiver, and in spite of all intima-
tion of his commander's displeasure, continued to trill and
shako on the note in a most donkey-like strain of disson-
ance, followed by the voices of all the choir, good, bad,
and indifferent ; and they obstinately persevered in sing-
ing a psalm of thirty-eight verses to the end.
" By my faith," soliloquised Phillipson, "a man with
ears of any sensibility would incontinently prefer being
hanged outright tolhe infliction of another of this solemn
buying."
In short, it was difficult to determine which was most
weary of the psalmody, the doomer or the doomed. But
men's lungs are not really made of leather, and oven if they
were, they must in turn crack with undue exertion. There
is a point beyond which human nature cannot go in any of
its functions—the vocalists had gone to the very extremity
of their powers, most manfully, regardless of hoarseness,
faltering, squeaking, and wheezing—they had arrived at
the ne plus ultra of their energies, and were—silent.
As a crowning indignity to his fallen foe, Briggs
had condemned the gallant soldier to a felon's doom
—the gibbet. When summoned to take his place
at the gallows—
" Phillipson, starting on his feet, cast out a glance of
fiercest disdain upon his volunteer deathstnen that they fell
back with dismay, and almost expected to see him burst
his bonds as the mighty captive of Gaza did of yore, and
take memorable vengeance on them. ITo one was more
thoroughly impressed with this idea than Briggs himself,
who, on perceiving the bearing of his prisoner, cried out
hastily to the troopers,
"Make ready, present, and fire if the prisoner offers to
stir a foot further, except to the gibbet."
" Cousin Bat," said Phillipson, coolly, you may spare
yourself much trouble by ordering your men to fire at once,
for I give you my word of honour that I shall never set a
step gallows-ward at the bidding of any roundhead.
" Verily," observed Bethuliel, "I stand amazed at the
contumacy of the malignant, for in all my days I never
knew a man of any kind refuse to merit the ladder after
he had been condemned to the gibbet."
" That is," replied Phillipson," because your experience
has fallen amongst felonious villains like yourself, whose
birthright the gallows is, and who naturally take possessit
of their lawful inheritance, as a matter of course."
" Oh, that thou would'st be persuaded to let me do mine
offence quietly and discreetly," said Bethuliel, holding the
rope neatly twisted towards Phillipson in a most inviting
manner, yet not daring to approach within arms' length

of him.
" Cowardly scoundrel," cried Briggs, " are you afraid of
a fettered man? Why don't you throw the rope boldly
about his neck, and drag him to the gibbet foot, since he
fears to approach it fairly ?"
Before the final command is given the heart-broken
Althea rushes desperately to the spot and implores
of her guardian the safety of her lover, but in vain.
THE CRISIS.

The demon of revenge once more scowled from under
the lowering brow of Colonel Briggs, as he muttered :
"Wherefori do I tarry for refinements in vengeance
while he lives, and lives to brave me to my teeth ?
Soldiers, fire."
"Then we will die together," shrieked Althea, throwing
herself before Phillipson and fearlessly enclosing the loved
form in the sanctuary of her arms.
" Go, go my loved one !" said Phillipson, gently striving
to put her from him with his fettered. hands, though his