Year: 1879

Quiet enough, in general Is the quaint
old town of Lamborough. Why all this
bustle to-1ay2 Along the hedge-bound
roads which lead to it, carts, chaises,
vehicles of every description are jogging
along filed with countrymen; and here
and there the scarlet cloak or straw
bonnet of some female occupying q chair,
placed somewhat unsteadily behind
them, contrasts gayly with the dark
coats, or gray smOck-frOCks of the front
row; from every cottage of the suburb,
some individuals Join the stream, which
rolls on increasing through the streets
till it reaches the castle. The ancient
moat teens with itllers, and the hill
opposite, usually the quiet domain of a
score or two Of peaceful sheep, partakes
Of the surrounding agitation.


The voice of the multitude which sur
rounds the courthouse, sounds like the
murmur of the sea, till suddenly it is
raised to a sort Of shout. John West,
the terror Of the surrounding country,
the sheep-stealer and burglar, had been
found guilty.


"What is the sentonceg' is asked by a
hundred voices


The answer is Transportation for
life"


But there was one standing aloof on
the hill, whose inquiring eye wandered
over the crowd with indescTibable an
guish, whose pallid cheek grew more
and more ghastly at every denunCiation
Of the culprit, and who, when at last the
sentence was pronounced, fell insensi-
bic upon the green sward. 1t was the
burglars son.


When the boy recovered from his
sWOon, it was late in the afternoon; he
was alone the faint tinkling Of the
sheep-bell had again replaced the sound
Of the human chorus of expectation,
and dread, and jesting; all was peace
ful, he could not understand why he lay
there, feeling so weak and sick. He
raised himself tremulously and looked
around; the turf was cut and spoiled by
the trampling of many feet. All his life
Of the last few months foated before his
memory; his residence in his fathers
hovel Wi4h rufianly comrades. the des-
perate schemes he heard as he pretended
to sleep on his loWly bed, their expedi-
tiOns at night, masked and armed, their
hasty returns, the news Of his fathers
capture, his own removal to the house
Of some female in the town, the court,
the trial, the condemnation.


The father had been a harsh and
brutal parent, but he had not positively
ll-used his boy. Of the great and mer
ciful Father Of the fatherless the child
knew nothing. He deemed himself
alone in the world. Yet grief was not
his perVading feeling, nor the shame Of
being known as the son of transport.
It was revenge which burned within
him. He thought of the crowd which
had come to feast upon his fathers
agony; he lenged to tear them to pieces,
and he plucked savagely handful of
the grass on which he leant. Oh, that
he were a man! that he could punish
them all-all-the spectators first, the
constables, the judge, the jury, the wit
nesses-One of them especially, a clergy
man named Leyton, who had given his
evidence more positively, more clearly,
than all the others. Oh, that he could
do that man some injuTy-but for him
his father would not have been identi-
fed and convicted.


Suddenly thought occurred to him,
his eyes sparkled with fierce delight.
81 know where he lives" he said to him
self; "he has the farm and parsonage Of
MilWoOd. I will 90 there at Once-it IS
almost dark already. 1 will do as have
heard father say he once did to the
squire. I will set his barns and house
on fire. Yes, yes, he shall burn for 1.-THE
shall get no more fathers transported"


To procure a box Of matches was an
easy task, and that was all the Prepara-
ton the boy made.


The autumn was far advanced. A cold
wind was beginning to moan among the
almost leafless trees, and George Vests
teeth chartered, and his ill-clad limbs
grew numb as he walked along the fields
leading to MilWood. Lucky it's a dark
night; this fine wind will fan the fame
nicely" he repeated to himself


The clock was striking nine, but all
was quiet as midnight; not soul stirr-
ing, not light in the parsonage win
dows that he could see. He dared not
open the gate, lest the click of the latch
should betray him, so he softly climbed
over; but scarcely had he dropped on
the other side Of the wall before the
loud barking of dog startled him. He
covered down behind the hay-rack,
scarcely daring to breathe, expecting
each instant that the dog would spring
upon him. It was some time before the
boy dared to stir, and as his courage
cooled, his thirst for revenge somewhat
subsidized also, till he almost determined
to return to Lamborough but he was too
tired, too cold, too hungTy-besides the
woman would beat him for staying out
so late. What could he do? where should
he 90? and as the sense Of his lonely
II F--1---, --oeihiov, v-eArTv1 Al ~ did