ΒΟΟΚ Ι. Τὸ γὰρ νεάζον ἐν τοιδισδε βόσκεται SOPHOCLES-Trachin., 144. "Youth pastures in a valley of its own: The glare of noon, the rains and winds of heaven, BOOK I. CHAPTER I. "My meaning in't, I profess, was very honest in the behalf of the maid yet who would have suspected an ambush where I was taken ?"-All's Well that Ends Well, act iv., scene 3. .... SOME four miles distant from one of our northern manufacturing towns, in the year 18-, was a wide and desolate common; a more dreary spot it is impossible to conceive the herbage grew up in sickly patches from the midst of a black and stony soil. Not a tree was to be seen in the whole of the comfortless expanse. Nature herself had seemed to desert the solitude, as if scared by the ceaseless din of the neighbouring forges; and even art, which presses all things into service, had disdained to cull use or beauty from the unpromising demesnes. There was something weird and primeval in the aspect of the place. Especially when, in the long nights of winter, you beheld the distant fires and lights, ⚫ which give to the vicinity of certain manufactories so preternatural an appearance, streaming red and wild over the waste. So abandoned by man appeared the spot, that you found it difficult to imagine that it was only from human fires that its bleak and barren desolation was illumined. For miles along the moor you detected no vestige of any habitation; but as you approached the verge nearest to the town, you could just perceive, at a little distance from the main road, by which the common was intersected, a small, solitary, and miserable hovel. Within this lone abode, at the time in which my story opens, were seated two persons. The one was a man of about fifty years of age, and in a squalid and wretched garb, which was yet relieved by an affectation of ill-sorted finery: a silk handkerchief, which boasted the ornament of a large broach of false stones, was twisted jantily round a muscular but meager throat. His tattered breeches were also decorated by buckles, one of pinchbeck and one of steel. His frame was thin, but broad and sinewy, indicative of considerable strength. His countenance was prematurely_marked by deep furrows, and his grizzled hair waved over a low, rugged, and forbidding brow, on which there hung an everlasting frown, that no smile from the lips (and the man smiled often) could chase away. It was a face that spoke of long-continued and hardened vice; it was one on which the past had written indelible characters. The brand of the hangman could not nave stamped it more plainly, nor have more unequivocally warned the suspicion of honest or timid men. He was employed in counting some few and paltry coins, which, though an easy enough matter to ascertain their value, he told and retold, as if the act could increase the amount. "There must be some mistake here, Alice," he said, in a low and muttered tone; we can't be so low; you know I had two pounds in the drawer but Monday, and now-Alice, you must have stolen some of the money-curse you !" 66 The person thus addressed sat at the opposite side of the smouldering and sullen fire; she looked quietly up as she was thus addressed, and her face singularly contrasted that of the man. She seemed about fifteen years of age, and her complexion was remarkably pure and delicate, even despite the sunburnt tinge which her habits of toil had brought it. Her auburn hair hung in loose and natural curls over her forehead, and its luxuriance was remarkable, even in one so young. Her countenance was beautiful, nay, even faultless, in its small and childlike features, but the expression pained you-it was so vacant. In repose it was almost the expression of an idiot; but when she spoke, or smiled, or even moved a muscle, the eyes, colour, lips, kindled into a life which proved that the intellect was still there, though but imperfectly awakened. "I did not steal any, father," she said, in a quiet voice; "but I should like to have taken some, only I knew you would beat me if I did." "And what do you want money for?" "To get food when I'm hungered." Nothing else?” "I don't know." "Stuff!" said the man, angrily; "I have three minds Here he was interrupted by a loud knock at the door of the hovel. The man grew pale."What can that be?" he muttered. "The hour is late-near eleven. Again-again! Ask who knocks, Alice." The girl stood spellbound a moment at the door; and as she stood, her form, rounded yet slight, her earnest look, her varying colour, her tender youth, and a singular grace of attitude and gesture, would have inspired an artist with the very ideal of rustic beauty. After a pause she placed her lips to a chink in the door, and repeated her father's question. "Pray pardon me," said a clear, loud, yet courteous voice, "but, seeing a light at your window, I have ventured to ask if any one within will conduct me to ****; I will pay the service handsomely." "Open the door, Alley," said the owner of the hut. The girl drew a large wooden bolt from the door, and a tall figure crossed the threshold. The new-comer was in the first bloom of youth, perhaps about eighteen years of age, and his air and appearance surprised both sire and daughter. Alone, on foot, at such an hour, it was impossible for any one to mistake him for other than a gentleman; yet his dress was plain, and somewhat soiled by dust, and he carried a small knapsack on his shoulder. As he entered he lifted his hat with something of foreign urbanity, and a profusion of fair brown hair fell partially over a high and commanding forehead His features were handVOL. I.-B |