The Sun.
London, England, 1859-01-10 00:00:00

has a kindly nibble at his ear as he lies dreamili
among the grass by the lake side at Fawley. The;
House of Vipont arrives at a Crisis that—thanks tel
Darrell—proves Not to be a Catastrophe. Darrelti
finding a wife at last in the " Caroline of Old," re'l
turns to public life as the saving genius of the!
Government. Greatest surprise of all, however, V,
the expectant and long tantalised reader—at last;
—at last—the key is vouchsafed to the mystery °
Sophy's parentage. Not the fruit of vice, not the
daughter of infamy, offspring of neither Jasper
Losely nor of Gabrielle Desmarets--" No More
the Outlaw-Child of Ignominy and Fraud, but the
Starry Daughter of Poetry and Art." When
Frank Vance, the famous painter, suddenly bound'
ing out from the garden entrance of Fawley into
the midst of the assembled persons of the romance,
then and there, to the amazement of Lionel, the
indignation of Waife, and the confusion of Waifee
fancied grandchild, kisses Sophy into a knowledge
that she is no other than the orphan child of his
sister and the poor dead poet Arthur Bran'
thwaite—the incident comes like a sunburst'
Everything brightens under its influence ; every'
body is happy—and the whole is so clear, so nail'
ral, so reasonable in every particular. Perhaps
the secret of a romance was never more admirabll
preserved until the very eve of its terminatiou,
Yet—when disclosed—it proves, nevertheless, t°
have been, so to speak, in no way overlaid with
concealment. The foreshadowings of it now are re'
cognised clearly enat:gh peeping out here and there
through the course of tii.9 previous narrative. One'
only marvels, now that it 1.; told, that it was never
conjectured beforehand—in all which there is
surely evidence of high art on the part of the
novelist. Towards the conclusion of the work We
are only in one particular really and truly dis•
satisfied. It is in the instance of Fairthorn, the
musician, who unexpectedly reveals certain gr°'
tesque traits of character that anything but endeari
him to us. The impotent spleen, of which we catchi
a glimpse in that mowing face of his, half hid bri
hind the curtains, lurking in the doorways, skullvi
ing among the shrubberies—topples down as irrel
trievably as Humpty Dumpty in the numerP
rhyme, our previous estimate of his eccentric
character. Insomuch that we fancy we should have
been bored ever afterwards even by the dulcet
melodies of the flauto rnagico—should have felt
disposed ill-naturedly to purloin one of the middle,
joints of it, and to have looked on with a spiteful
chuckle of satisfaction while he vainly essayed to the,
screw the beloved instrument together. The downfall
is a disappointment to us—for hitherto it was with
us one of the most charming memories of the books
the thought of Fairthorn, with his flute, haunting
the green thickets about Fawley Manor like c
dingy, shambling human nightingale. Charo
there are still left to us in the work, however—uo'
marred—beyond the reach of deterioration. GUI
Darrell—after whom we would fain have had the
romance called, rather than by its present fantastic
designation—Darrell, the great lawyer, the gifted
orator, the illustrious statesman Waife, dear el
Waife—that "grand creature, a grand actor"-"
who, as he listed, "was the Fool, Nv.,is Lear"--1
" luminous, unconscious critic, bringing out beautio!'
of which no commentator ever dreamed !" Colonel
Morley, most kindly and perfect of true gentle'
men!: Handsome Lionel, cordial Vance, whin'
sical Merle, preposterous Rugge, grimly'
gentle Arabella, simple-hearted Hartopp, ridiculous
Samuel Adolphus Poole, of Alhambra Villa in the
Cockney suburb—terrible Pocket Cannibal feed'
ing upon the same (that is to say, not upoli
Alhambra Villa, but upon S. A. Poole)—the worst,
the best ;'the loftiest, the lowliest of the concourse
—as they pass away from us now, we are loth to lose
sight of them altogether, we are fain to linger ye
awhile over the familiar pages that here relate
their history, with the charm of a style that it hue
taken the laborious life of a man of rare genius to
attain ! As we close this latest romance, complet;
ing the full score of his elaborate prose works 0
fiction—as we remember the diversity and often
the splendour observable among its nineteen pre'
dec9ssors—as we remember the prizes won by the,
same indefatigable ambition in so many other, and
such totally dissimilar, intellectual departments, as
a dramatist, as a historian, as an orator, as a posti
as a statesman—there comes floating to us one
those Horatian particles familiar to the classie
atmosphere of Fawley, " to Darrell medicinal, t°
Fairthorn. morbific,"

" —Nil fuit unquam
Sic dispar sibi"—

And so adieu to the Novelist, en avant to the
Statesman !

EXTRAORDINARY CASE OP
SWINDLING.

A woman, fifty years of age, of the name of
Dereinsberg, was on Saturday tried by the Tribir
nal of Correctional Police for swindling ; and tvl6
females, named Roux and Girard, were tried with
her for complicity. The first mentioned woman waS
employed by a tradesman named Blot to call an
ladies of rank and offer for sale, dresses, lace,
and other articles. When she announced that
she had effected a sale, goods were confided to her;
and if for ready money, which was very rarely'
she brought the money ; if on credit it was
entered on the book, and after a delay of a fel
months, she was charged to get the bill paid,
In either case she deducted a certain per centage for
her commission. In February last she gave vari'
ous extensive orders for different ladies, but when
some months after, Blot directed her to get in his
money, she was unable to bring him any. After
accepting various excuses time after time for delay,'
he at length made an investigation, and he disco-
vered that the greater part of the alleged sake
were never made to the ladies in whose names
they were entered, or were to people who did not
exist. Thus the woman had obtained 64f. worth
of pocket-handkerchiefs for, as she said, the
Countess de Morny, but Blot was told on applyin
for payment that the countess had never ordered
and never received anything from him. Other pre-
tended sales were made to the Princess de Chimay,
the Princess liotsclaouberg, &c. Among the per-
sons who did not exist was a Countess de Viga-
not, who was said to reside in the Hotel Voltaire.
All the, goods which the woman obtained by these
false pretences were either pawned or sold by the
woman Roux, who received part of the proceeds.
But she did a still more audacious thing :—ln Octo-
ber last she ordered various articles of the value of
585 fr. for Queen Christina, and wanted to take then
away, but Mme. Blot said she should like to deliver
them herself. She, however, on some pretext,
did not take Mine. Blot to the Queen, and, after
a few days' delay, she announced that her Majesty
would call at the shop ; but the Queen never went.
Mme. Blot having expressed surprise, the woman
said, " Well ! take your things, and let us go to
Malmaison, where the Queen is !" They went to
Malmaison, and, on entering the porter's lodge,
found an elderly female dressed in a sort of religious
costume. "This is her Majesty's housekeeper," said
the woman. Mme. Blot then said that she had
brought some articles for the Queen, and wished to
show them to her Majesty herself. " Oh, Madame,'
answered the housekeeper, "it would be contrary
to etiquette for the Queen to receive you, but leave
me the things, I will show them to her Majesty,
and you may call to-morrow to know whether the
Queen accepts them or not !" Mme. Blot left the
things, and returned next day. Addressing the con-
cierge, she said, " Tell the Queen's housekeeper—the
lady I saw here yesterday—that I am waiting to see
her !" " The Queen's housekeeper" cried the man.
" That old woman ! Why, she only comes here to
beg charity !" " And my things ?' She took them
away, and I, of course, not knowing why you gave
them to her, had no-reasou to prevent her!' It was
then discovered that the woman who thus audaci-
ously personated the Queen's housekeeper was a
widow named Girard. The tribunal, after hearing
these facts, condemned Dereinsberg to two years'
imprisonment, Roux to 15 months, and Girard to
12 months; and each besides to 50f. fine. One
Menneval, employed at the Hotel Voltaire, was
tried with the women for complicity, for having,
as alleged, represented to Blot that the pretended
Countess de Viganot lived in the hotel, and was
solvent ; but the case Was not made out, and he was
acquitted.

DARING ESCAPE FROM A GAOL.—On Wednesday
last an escape was effected from the county of Cork gaol,
which for daring ingenuity almost equals any of those
recorded of the famous Jack Sheppard. A person named
William Johnson, who wag awaiting his trial on a charge
of sheep-stealing, was sent to a small ward where untried
prisoners were generally confined, for the purpose of clean-
ing it out, and beingloeked in alone, hedetermmed on effect ing his escape. Having got a couple of sheets from one
of the cells, he tied them together, and then fastened an end
of one of them to a hand-brush about a foot and a quarter
long, which he had been using. He next made a pretty long
pole by rudely splicing together the handles of some sweep-
ing brushes with twine, which he had made from oakum, and
by means of this ho succeeded in inserting the hand-brush
crosswise, inside the bars of an upper cell window. The
sheets being torn, served him as means of drawing himself
up, and he thus succeeded in getting on the wall of the small
yard attached to the ward, from whence he scrambled on the
roof. Between this and the outer wall of the gaol was an
insulating passage, over 8 feet wide, and the outer wall itself
was between 30 and 40 feet high, and he must have sprung
across this passage, and either lit on the wall from whence
he let himself down by some means, or else have cleared the
passage and wall both at a jump. In either case the feat was
a most astonishing one, when the breadth of the passage
and the height of the wall is considered, but that such was
the way in which he got out there seems no doubt, for some
of the slates were found displaced on the roof where he had
stood, and the marks of his feet were found deeply indented
in a. bed of clay, which was close under the gaol wall in an
adjoining orchard, and on which he must have alighted after
his descent. Johnson, who is an able young fellow, of about
29 years of age, was for some time in the Dublin police, and
was afterwards a porter on the Great Southern and Western
Railway but latterly he gave himself up to robbery,—
.41,enfng 41;s1;