her starched foolery; but I soon put civil thoughts into her head."

When bed-time came, Mrs. Kilpin was appointed to attend upon Jennet, and her amazement was complete, as she saw her place a brace of pistols under her pillow, and drawing off her jack-boots, throw herself upon the delicate white counterpane wrapped up in her horseman's cloak.

"Good night, Mrs. Kilpin." "Good night, ma'am.”

"Don't ma'am me," said Jennet; "I'm a maiden."

"Good night, miss," answered Mrs. Kilpin, inwardly praying God to forgive her, and retired to her own bed with silent reproaches upon Mr. Flinn for having deserted her.

CHAPTER XVI.

Emilia. No, Cassio is not killed.

Othello. Not Cassio killed! Then murder 's out of tune, And sweet revenge grows harsh.

SHAKSPEARE.

WE related, in the preceding chapter, how Mayfield's unexpected coming had dispersed the assembled listeners, and how the one remaining listener overheard his exclamation of Jennet being "hell-befriended." The fact was, he had sallied forth resolved, at all hazards, to rid himself of her detested presence; and being an expert marksman, there is little doubt his shot would have taken effect; but the accidental closing of the curtains defeated his sanguinary purpose, whose after-consequences he had not stopped to consider.

Thus foiled, his next resolution was, to steal upon her when asleep. But here again he was baffled; for, not being present when Sir Ste

phen gave orders to have the blue bedroom prepared, and concluding that the usual spare one would be assigned to her, in the middle of the night he crept stealthily into that one.

"The devil dreads to have her!" he exclaimed, when he saw the bed unoccupied, "or he would not guard her thus !" And placing his dimly-burning lamp upon a table, he sat down beside it to consider what should be his next step.

"She shall not live!" he muttered to himself."No; though I strike the blow in open day, before the eyes of men, and with the assured certainty of laying down my own life, she shall NOT live, to beard me here, and strew my path with thorns. Damn her! Damn her! I know the thoughts that darkened her mind when she bade me take heed, if I would pass safely over the rough road that yet lies before me. But if ever I do swing between earth and heaven, it shall be, among the rest, for ridding the world of that abhorred devil."

As if he were spell-bound, he felt no desire. to return to his own room, but sat there, gazing every now and then at the bed where he had expected to find his victim, and venting

low-breathed curses that she was not in it. He closed his eyes; and then, the gaunt, grim form of Jennet stood before him, with that same fiend-like mock upon her features which they ever wore, when it was her mood to taunt him. At length, he slumbered; and his brain seemed whirling in eddies of burning fire. He saw hideous shapes of women, from whose gashes streamed blood. Some called for mercy; others yelled out murder; and one laughed horribly as she pointed to a corpse that lay at his feet. His parched tongue cleaved to his mouth, his throat was dry to suffocation. He awoke, and found himself in darkness!

The lamp had gone out; but at that moment, what seemed a flash of lightning, streamed across his eyes. Believing it to be one, he listened for the thunder-peal. It came not; but the chamber was pervaded by a dim, dusky light, which rendered everything in it obscurely visible. At the further end stood the half-opened door; and he could perceive the gallery beyond, with its dark, panelled wainscot. He did not doubt that some one of the family was up and passing along this gallery

with a night-lamp; but when he heard no footstep, and observed the light underwent no change, he concluded it was the effect of some deceptive state of the visual organs, and proceeded to leave the apartment.

When he came into the gallery, that stretched along the whole east wing of the building, he was still sensible of the same singular appearance. He seemed to be walking in a faint glimmering atmosphere, which dimly revealed every surrounding object. He staggered onwards like a drunken man; and like one drunk, his very senses reeled; and confused images of incongruous things were present to his thoughts; for now he fancied there flickered before him, as if to guide his footsteps, a pale lustrous flame, which he followed down the oaken staircase, and across the stone landing, till it came to a door, beneath which it glided. He grasped the handle of the door. It gave way. He entered the apartment. There he again beheld his mysterious guide, which had now gathered itself into a seeming ball of bright fire, and stood motionless beside a bed with velvet hangings.

There was the audible breathing of one