Year: 1874

caution to remove the sheets from the bed,
and he had now only to tie them together to
escane BY toe window of bis room situated on
the upper floor of the asylum. The sun was set
ting. and the inmates of the asylum were
then at sea, After narrowly missing discov-
cry by one OF the laborers employed in the
grounds, he had climbed the garden inclosure
and had dropped on the other side-a free
man! 4


Arrived on the high road to Manchester
my husband and my brother parted.


Roland, who was an excellent walker, set
forth ON bis way to Manchester on foot He
had food in his knapsack, and he proposed to
walk some twelve or fifteen miles on the
road to the city before he stopped at any
town or village to rest. My brother, who
was physically unable TO accompany him, re.
turned to the place in which was then re-
siding, to tell me the good news.


By the first train the rext morning tray
eled to Manchester, and took lodging in a
suburb of the city known to my husband. A
prim, smoky little square was situated in the
immediate neighborhood, aud we had ar
ranged that whichever of us first arrived in
Manchester should walk round that square,
between IL and in the afternoon, and be-
tween 6 and in the evening. In the eve
ming kept my appointment. A dusty, foot
sore man, in shabby clothes, with hideous
beard, and knapsack on his back met me at
my first walk round. He smiled as looked
at him. All! knew that smile through all
disguises! In spite of the Court of Chancery
and the Lords Justices, was in my hus-
bands arms once more!


We lived quietly in our retreat for a month.
During that time las heard by letters from
my brother) nothing that money and cum
ming could do toward discovering Roland
was left untred by the proprietor of the asy-
lum, aud by the persons acting with him.
But where is the cunning which can trace a
man, who, escaping at night in disguise, has
not trusted himself to a railway or carriage,
and who takes refuge in great city in which
he has no friends? At the end of our month
in Manchester, we Travelled northward,
crossed the Channel to Ireland, and passed
pleasant fortnight in Dublin. Leaving this
again, we made our way to Cork and Queens
town, and embarked from that latter place
among crowd of steerage passengers in a
steamship bound for America.


My story is told. l am writing these lines
| from a farm in the west of the United States.
Our neighbors may be homely enough, but
the toughest of them is kinder to us than
mad doctor or Lord Justice. Ronald is
happy in those agricultural pursuits, which
have always been tavorite pursuits with him;
and am happy with Ronald. Our sole re.
sources consist of my humble little fortune,
inherited from my dear mother. After de-
Quoting our travelling expenses, the sum to-
tai amounts to between seven and eight hun
dred pounds; and this, as we find, is amply
sufficient to start us well in the new life that


we have chosen. We expect my father and
my brother to pay us visit next summer;
and think it just possible that they may
find our family circle increased by the pres
ence OF new member in long clothes. Are
there no cOmpensations here for exile from
England and the loss of fortune? We
think there are. But then, my dear Miss An
stell, "Mary Brading's husband is mad; and
Mary Brading herself is not much better.''
II you feel inclined TO alter this opinion.
and If you remember our old days at school
as tenderly as remember them, write and
tell me so. Your letter will be forwarded if
| you send it to the inclosed address at New


York. "
In the meantime, the moral of our story


seems to be worth serious consideration. A
| certain Englishman legally inherits large
fortune. At the time of his inheritance he


has been living as a free man for three years
without once abusing bis freedom, and
with the express sanction of the. medical su-
perintendent who has had experience and


charge Of him. His next of kin and heirs at


law (who are left out of the fortune) look


with covetous eyes at the money, and de-
termine to get the management and the ulti-
mate possession of it. Assisted by doctor,


whose honesty and capacity must be taken


on trust, these interested persons, in this


nineteenth. century of progress, can lawfully
I'mprison their relative for life in country
which calls itself free, and which declares
that its justice is equally administered to all
alike.


NoTE.-The reader is informed that this story is
ounded, in all essential particulars, on case which
actually occurred in England eight years since.
w. C.