to his surprise the Doctor again stepped forward, and before all the people repeated the whole former questions, to each of which the Colonel replied in nearly the same words.

Then stepping forward again to the front of the scaffold, the Colonel said, speaking to the people in a calm and tender voice

"There is not one face that looks upon me, though many faces, and perhaps different from me in opinion and practice, but methinks hath something of pity in it; and may that mercy which is in your hearts now be meted to you when you have need of it! I beseech you join with me in prayer."

The completest silence prevailed, broken only by a faint sobbing and whispering sound from the excited and pitying crowd. Colonel Powell prayed for a quarter of an hour with an audible voice; then, taking leave again of his friends, and directing the executioner when to strike, he knelt down to the block, and repeating the words, "Lord Jesus, receive me," his head was smitten off with a blow.

A long deep groan, followed by an intense silence, ran through the crowd. The officer who accompanied Inglesant looked at him with a peculiar expression; and, bowing in return, Inglesant passed through the window, and as he mounted the steps and his eyes came to the level of, and then rose higher than the interposing scaffold, he saw the dense crowd of heads stretching far away on every hand, the house windows and roofs crowded on every side. He scarcely saw it before he almost lost the sight again. A wild motion that shook the crowd, a roar that filled the air and stunned the sense, a yell of indignation, contempt, hatred, hands shook and clutched at him, wild faces leaping up and staring at him, cries of "Throw him over!" "Give over the Jesuit to us!" "Throw over the Irish murderer!" made his senses reel for a moment and his heart stop. It was inconceivable that a crowd, the instant before placid, pitiful, silent, should in a moment become like that, deafening, mad, thirsting for blood. The amazing surprise and reaction produced the greatest shock. Hardening himself in a moment, he faced the people, his hat in his hand, his pale face hard set, his teeth closed. Once or twice he tried to speak; it would have been as easy to drown the Atlantic's roar. As he stood, apparently calm, this terrible ordeal had the worst possible effect upon his mind. Other men came to the scaffold calm in mind, prepared by holy thoughts, and the sacred, tender services of the Church of their Lord, feeling His hand indeed in theirs. They spoke, amid silence and solemn prayers, to a pitying people; the name of Jesus on their lips, the old familiar words whispered in their ears, good wishes, deference,

respect all around, their path seemed smooth and upward to the heavenly gates. But with himhow different ! Denied the aid of prayer and sacrament, alone, overwhelmed with contempt and hatred, deafened with the fiendish noise which racked his excited and overwrought brain. He was indifferent before; he became hardened, fierce, contemptuous now. Hated, he hated again. All the worst spirit of his party and of his age became uppermost. He felt as though engaged in a mad duel with a despised yet too powerful foe. He turned at last to the officer, and said, his voice scarcely heard amid the unceasing roar— "You see, sir, I cannot speak; do not let us delay any longer."

The officer hesitated, and glanced at another gentleman, evidently a Parliament man, who advanced to Inglesant, and offered him a paper, the purport of which he knew by this time too well.

He told him in his ear that even now he should be set at liberty if he would sign the true evidence, and not rush upon his fate and lose his soul. He repeated that the Parliament knew he was not guilty, and had no wish to put him to death.

Inglesant saw the natural rejoinder, but did not think it worth his while to make it. Only get this thing over, and escape from this maddening cry, tearing his brain with its terrible roar, to something quieter at any rate.

He rejected the paper, and turning to the officer he said, with a motion towards the people of inexpressible disdain

"These good people are impatient for the final act, sir; do not let us keep them any longer."

The officer still hesitated, and looked at the Parliament man, who shook his head, and immediately left the scaffold. The officer then leaned on the rail, and spoke to his lieutenant in the open space round the scaffold within the barriers. The latter gave a word of command, and the soldiers fell out of their rank so as to mingle with the crowd. As soon as the officer saw this manoeuvre completed, he took Inglesant's arm, and said, hurriedly-"Come with me to the house, and be quick." Not knowing what he did, Inglesant followed him hastily into the room. They had need to be quick. A yell, to which the noise preceding it was as nothing-terrible as it had been, a shower of stones, smashing every pane of glass, and falling in heaps at their feet-showed the fury of a maddened injured people, robbed of their expected prey.

The officer looked at Inglesant, and laughed.

"I thought there would be a tumult," he said; "we are not safe here; the troops will not oppose them, and they will break down the doors. Come with me."

He led Inglesant, still almost unconscious,

through the back entries and yards, the roar of the people still in their ears, till they reached a stair leading to the river, where was a wherry, and two or three guards. The officer stepped in after Inglesant, crying, "Pull away! The Tower!"

then, leaning back, and looking at Inglesant, he said

"You stood that very well. I would rather mount the deadliest breach than face such a sight as that."

SB

This is the Ballad

of "Beau Brocade"

How he was trapped by a serving maid!

I.

Seventeen hundred and thirty-nine :That was the date of this tale of mine.

First great GEORGE was buried and gone;

Open we here on a March-day fine,
Under the oak with the hanging sign.

There was Barber DICK with his basin by ;
Cobbler JOE with the patch on his eye;

Portly product of Beef and Beer,
JOHN the host, he was standing near.

Straining and creaking, with wheels awry,
Lumbering came the "Plymouth Fly;"-

Lumbering up from Bagshot Heath, Guard in the basket armed to the teeth;

Passengers heavily armed inside;

Not the less surely the coach had been tried!
Tried!--but a couple of miles away,
By a well-dressed man!-in the open day!

Tried successfully, never a doubt,
Pockets of passengers all turned out!

Cloak-bags rifled, and cushions ripped,
Even an Ensign's wallet stripped!

Even a Methodist hosier's wife
Offered the choice of her Money or Life!

Highwayman's manners no less polite,
Hoped that their coppers (returned) were
right;-

Sorry to find the company poor,

Hoped next time they'd travel with more ;

Plucked them all at his ease, in short:-
Such was the "Plymouth Fly's" report.

Sympathy horror! and wonderment !
"Catch the Villain!" (But Nobody went.)
Hosier's wife led into the Bar ;-
That's where the best strong waters are!

Blessings on Vernon! Fill up the flagons;
Money was coming in "Flys" and " Waggons."

Possibly JOHN the Host had heard ;
Also, certainly, GEORGE the Guard.