The national Republican., 1860-12-12

Cochrane had lived. The mail which con.
tained his death.warrant had been robbed, and
before another order for an execution could be
given, the intercession of his father, the Earl
Of Donald, with the Kings confessor, might be
successful.
Grizele now became his constant compan.
ion in prison, and spoke to him words OF com
fort. Nearly fourteen days had passed since
the robbery of the mail had been committed,
and protracted hope in the prisoner became
more bitter than the first despair. But even
that hope, bitter as it was, perished. The in.
tercessons of his father had been unsuccess.
iul, and the second time the bigoted, naughty
monarch had signed the warrant Of mis- death,
and within little more than day that warrant
would reach his prison.
"The will of Heaven be done!" groaued
the captive.
"Amenl" responded Grizelle, with wild We.
hemence; but yet my father shall not de-"
Again the rider had reached the moor Of
Tweedmouth, and the second time he bore with
him the doom of Sir John Cochrane. He
spurred his horse to the utmost speed; he
looked BEFORE behind, and round him, and in
the right hand he held pistol, ready to defend
him. The moon shed a CHASTITY light across
the heath, which was only sufficient to render
desolation dimly visible, and it gave spiritual
an angle of a struggling copse, when his horse
reared at the report of a pistol, the fire Of
which seemed to flash in its very eyes. At the
same moment his own pistol flashed, and, his
horse rearing violently he was driven from his
saddle. In a moment the foot Of the robber
was on his breast, who, bending over him, and
brandishing short dagger in his hand, said :
"Give me thy arms, or die "
The he TT of the Kings servant failed with.
in him, and, without venturing reply, he did
as he was commanded.
"Now go thy way" said the robber sternly,
"but leave the horse with me, and leave thy
mail, lest worse thing come upon thee"
The man arose and proceeded towards Ber.
wick, trembling, and the robber, mounting the
horse which he had left, rode rapidly over the
heath.
Preparations we're making for the execution
of Sir John Cochrane, and the officers Of the
law waiting only for the arrival of the mail and
the second death warrant, to lead him forth to
the scaffold, when the tidings arrived that the
mail had again been robbed. For fourteen
DAYS the life Of he prisoner would yet be pro-
lonred He again fell On the neck of his
daughter, and said
1T is said the hand of Heaven is in this"
Said not" replied the maiden, and for the
first time she wept aloud, THAT my father
should not die?"
The fourteen days had not passed when the
prison door flew open, and the Earl of Donald
rushed to the arms of his son. His interces-
sion with the confessor had been successful,
aud after twice signing the death warrant for
the execution Of Sir John, which had so often
failed in its place of destination, the King had
sealed his pardon.
Ne had hurried with his father from the
prison to his own house, his family were cling
ing around him, shedding tears Of joy; but
Grizee, who, during the Imprisonment had
suffered more than them all, was absent. They
we're marvelng with gratitude at the mysteri.
Gus Providence that had twice intercepted the
mail and saved his life, when stranger craved
an audience. Sir John desired him to be ad-
mittcd, and the robber entered he was habit.
ed. as we have before described, with the coarse
cloak and erkin, but his bearing was above
his condition. On entering, he slightly touched
his beaver, but remained uncovered. "Wher
you have perused these" said he, taking two
papers from his bosom, "cast them into the
fire."
Sir John glanced at them, started and be
came pale-they were his own death warrants
MY deliverer he exclaimed, how shal
l thank thee how repay the saviour of my
life? My father, my children, thank him fol
| me-"
The Earl grasped the hand of the stranger
the children embraced his knees. He pressed
his hand to his face, and burst into tears.
by what name," eagerly inquired Sir John
shall thank my deliverer?"
The stranger wept aloud. and, raising his
beaver, the raven tresses of Grizelle Cochrant
fell on the coarse cloak.
"Gracious Heavens!" exclaimed the aston
ished and enraptured father, "my own child
my saviour-my own Grizelle !"
1t is unnecessary to add more. The imagi
nation Of the reader can supply the rest, ant
we may add that Grizelle Cochrane, who's
heroism and noble affection we have brief
and imperfectly sketched, was the grandmothe
of the late John Stewart, of Allen Bank, Ber
wickshre, and grandmother Of Coutts, the eel
ebrated banker.