back till next week, and Muster Barrells, as I believed in the agony of that moment, the keeper, he's off into Norfolk, arter pint- stone dead. I strained every nerve to reach ers, and such like. You keep the dog well him,-for I could hear the rattle of a ramat heel, 'Squire. Why, whatever has be- rod, as the keeper reloaded,—and I detercome o' Bold?" mined to cover Bold with my body, and, if necessary, to die with him. I was several paces ahead of Victor, whom I now heard

Alas, Bold himself was heard to answer the question. Self-hunting in an adjoining covert, his deep-toned voice was loudly calling me by name, but I could think of awakening the echoes, and scaring the game all over the Manor, to his own unspeakable delight and our intense dismay. Forgetful of all the precepts of his puppyhood, he scampered hither and thither; now in headlong chase of a hare; now dashing aside after a rabbit, putting up pheasants at every stride, and congratulating himself on his emancipation and his prowess in notes that could not fail to indicate his pursuits to keepers, watchers, all the establishment of Beverley Manor, to say nothing of the inhabitants of that and the adjoining par

nothing, attend to nothing, but the prostrate animal in front. What a joy it was when I reached him to find he was not actually killed. His fore leg was frightfully mangled by the charge; but as I fell breath-, less by the side of my darling Bold, he licked my face, and I knew there was a chance for him still.

ishes.

A rough grasp was laid on my shoulder, and a hoarse voice roused me:

"Come, young man; I thought I'd drop on to you at last. Now you'll just come with me to Sir 'Arry, and we'll see what he has to say to this here."

Off we started in pursuit, bounding down And on looking up I found myself in the the hill at our best pace. Old " Nap" hands of a strong, square-built fellow, with making running in his own peculiar gait, a velveteen jacket, and a double-barreled which was none of the most graceful; Vic-gun under his arm, being no less a person tor laughing and shouting with delight; and I frightened out of my wits at the temporary loss of my favorite, and the probable consequences of his disobedience.

than Sir Harry Beverley's head keeper, and the identical individual that had been watching us from the mere, and had made so successful a shot at Bold.

you."

Long before we could reach the scene of "Come, leave the dog," he added; giving Bold's misdoings, we had been observed by me another shake, and scrutinizing my aptwo men who were fishing in the mere, and parel, which was evidently not precisely of who now gave chase-the one keeping along the description he had expected; "leave the the valley, so as to cut us off in our descent; dog,—it's no great odds about him; and as the other, a long-legged fellow, striding for you, young gentleman, if you be a young right up the hill at once, in case we should gentleman, you had ought to be ashamed of turn tail and beat a retreat. 66 Nap" sud-yourself. It's not want as drove you to this denly disappeared-I have reason to believe trade. Come, none of that; you go quietly he ensconced himself in a deep ditch, and along of me; it's best for you, I tell there remained until the danger had passed away. Victor and I were still descending the hill, calling frantically to Bold. The keeper who had taken the lower line of pursuit was gaining rapidly upon us. I now saw that he carried a gun under his arm. My dog flashed out of a small belt of young trees in hot pursuit of a hare-tongue out, head down, and tail lowered, in full enjoyment of the chase. At the instant he appeared, the man in front of me stopped dead short. Quick as lightning he lifted his long shining barrel. I saw the flash; and I looked up in the face of my captor. He ere I heard the report my dog tumbled heels was a rough, hairy fellow; but there was over head, and lay upon the sunny sward, an expression of kindliness in his homely DCLXX. LIVING AGE. VOL. XVI. 51

I was struggling to free myself from his hold, for I could not bear to leave my dog. A thousand horrible anticipations filled my head. Trial, transportation, I knew not what, for I had a vague terror of the law, and had heard enough of its rigors in regard to the offence of poaching to fill me with indescribable alarm; yet, through it all, I was more concerned for Bold than myself. My favorite was dying, I believed, and I could not leave him.

features which encouraged me to entreat for | real thing; and my precious boy here, he mercy. wouldn't leave the dawg, not if it was ever "O sir," I pleaded, "let me only take so, though he's a very little 'un; he's a my dog; he's not so very heavy; I'll carry gentleman, too; but that don't make no him myself. Bold, my darling Bold! He odds, Bill: gentlemen hadn't ought to be up i is my own dog, and I'd rather you'd kill to such-like tricks, nor haven't half the exme too than force me to leave him here." cuse of poor folks; and, gentlemen or no gentlemen, they goes before Sir 'Arry, dog and all, as sure as my name's Barrells!" Victor and I looked at each other in hope

The man was evidently mollified, and a good deal puzzled into the bargain. I saw my advantage, and pressed it vigorously. "I'll go to prison willingly,-I'll go any-less despair; there was, then, nothing for it where you tell me,-only do try and cure Bold. Papa will pay you any thing if you'll only cure Bold. Victor! Victor!" I added, seeing my chum now coming up, likewise in custody, " help me to get this gentleman to save Bold."

but to undergo the extreme penalty of the law. With hanging heads and blushing cheeks we walked between our captors; Bill, who seemed a good-natured fellow enough, carrying the unfortunate Bold on his shoulders. We thought our shame had reached its climax, but we were doomed to suffer even more degradation in this our first visit to Beverley Manor.

Victor looked flushed, and fiercer than I ever remembered to have seen that pretty boyish face. His collar was torn and his dress disordered. He had evidently struggled manfully with his captor, and the latter wiped his heated brow with an expression of mingled amusement and astonish-taking her afternoon's walk with her govment, that showed he was clearly at his wits' end what to make of his prize.

"Blowed if I know what to say o' this here, Mr. Barrells," said he to his brother functionary. "This little chap's even gamer nor t'other one. Run! I never see such a one-er to run. If it hadn't been for the big hedge at the corner of the cow-pasture, I'd never a cotched 'un in a month o' Sundays; and, when I went to lay hold, the young warmint out with his knife and offered to whip it into me. He's a rare boy this; I could scarce grip him for laughing; but the lad's got a sperret, blessed if he ain't. I cut my own knuckles gettin' of it out of his hands." And he showed Victor's knife to his comrade as he spoke.

Mr. Barrells was a man of reflection, as keepers generally are. He examined the knife carefully, and spoke in an undertone to his friend.

As we threaded the gravel path of a beautiful shrubbery leading to the back-offices of the Manor House, we met a young girl

erness, whose curiosity seemed vividly excited by our extraordinary procession. To this day I can remember Constance Beverley as she stood before me then, the first time I ever saw her. She was scarcely more than a child, but her large serious dark eyes, her noble and somewhat sad expression of countenance, gave her an interest which mere childish beauty could never have possessed. There are some faces that we can discern even at such a distance as renders the features totally indistinct, as if the expression of countenance reached us by some magnetic process independent of vision, and such a face was that of Constance Beverley. I have often heard her beauty disputed. I have even known her called plain, though that was generally by critics of her own sex, but I never heard any one deny that she was uncommonlooking, and always certain to attract attention, even where she failed in winning admiration. Victor blushed scarlet, and I felt as if I must sink into the earth, when this young lady walked up to the keeper, and asked him "What he was going to do with those people, and why he was taking them to papa?"

"Do you see this here?" he remarked, pointing to the coronet which was inlaid in the steel; "and do you see that there?" he added, with a glance at Victor's gold watch-chain, of Parisian fabric. "Put this here and that there together, Bill, which it conwinces me as these here little chaps is not Miss Constance was evidently a favorite them as we was a lookin' for. Your cove with Mr. Barrells, for he stopped and doffed looks a gentleman all over; I knows the his hat with much respect whilst he exbreed, Bill, and there's no mistake about the plained to her the circumstances of our pur

suit and capture. So long as he alluded on either side of us, as turnkeys watch those only to our poaching offences, I thought the who are ordered for execution. The servants little lady looked on us with eyes of kindly commiseration; but when he hinted his suspicions of our social position, I observed that she immediately assumed an air of marked coldness, and transferred her pity to Bold. "So you see, Miss, I does my duty by Sir 'Arry without respect to rich or poor," was Mr. Barrells' conclusion to a longwinded oration addressed partly to the young lady, partly to her governess, and partly to ourselves, the shamefaced oulprits ; "and therefore it is as I brings these young gentlemen up to the justice-room, if so be, as I said before, they be young gentlemen; and so, Miss Constance, the law must take its course."

of the household came one after another to stare at the unfortunate culprits, and made audible remarks on our dress and general appearance. Victor's beauty won him much favor from the female part of the establishment; and a housemaid with a wonderfully smart cap brought him a cup of tea, which he somewhat rudely declined. There was considerable discussion as to our real position in society carried on without the slightest regard to our presence. The under-butler, whose last place was in London, and whose professional anxiety about his spoons may have somewhat prejudiced him, gave it as his opinion that we belonged to what he called "the swell mob;" but Mr. Barrells, 'But you'll take care of the poor dog, who did not seem to understand the term, Barrells; promise me you'll take care of the pooh poohed" this suggestion with so poor dog," was the young lady's last en- much dignity as at once to extinguish that treaty as she walked on with her governess; official, who incontinently retired to his panand a turn in the shubbery hid her from our try and his native obscurity. The women, sight. who generally lean to the most improbable version of a story, were inclined to believe that we were sailors, and of foreign extraction; but the most degrading theory of all, and one that I am bound to confess met with a large majority of supporters, was to the effect that we were run-away 'prentices from Fleetsbury, and would be put in the stocks on our return to that market town. We had agreed not to give our names except as

"What a half-holiday this has been!" whispered I to my comrade in distress, as we neared the house that had so long been an object of such curiosity.

yet."

Yes," replied Victor, "but it's not over

66

Sir Harry was at the farm; we must wait for his return. Meanwhile we were shown into the servants' hall; a large stone chamber devoid of furniture, that reminded a last resource, my friend clinging, as I me of our school-room at Everdon-much as we hated the latter, what would we have given to be there now! Cold meat and ale were offered us; but, as may well be imagined, we had no appetite to partake of them, although in that respect our captors set us a noble example; remaining, however,

thought somewhat hopelessly, to the idea that Sir Harry would let us off with a reprimand, and we might get back to Everdon without March finding it out. So the great clock ticked loudly in the hall, and there we sat in mute endurance. As Victor had before remarked, “It was not over yet."

CHAPTER IX.-ROPSLEY.

ROPSLEY smoked his cigar on the trunk of sufficiently developed, his manner formed on the old tree, and Manners drank in worldly what he conceived the best model. All this wisdom from the lips of his junior, whom, was only absurd, I presume, because he was however, he esteemed as the very guidebook an usher; had he been a marquis, he would of all sporting and fashionable life. It was have shone forth as a "very charming perthe ambition of our usher to become a son." His admiration of Ropsley was genuthorough man of the world; and, had he ine, the latter's contempt for his adorer been born to a fortune and a title, there was equally sincere, but better concealed. They no reason why he should not have formed a sit puffing away at their cigars, watching very fair average young nobleman. His the smoke wreathing up into the summer tastes were frivolous enough, his egotism sky, and Manners coaxes his whiskers and

said Ropsley, What's the matter?

looks admiringly at his friend. Ropsley's "Come, no nonsense! cigar is finished, and he dashes it down some- sternly; "out with it. what impatiently.

"What can have become of that little wretch? " says he, with a yawn and a stretch of his long, well-shaped limbs; "he's probably made some stupid mistake, and I shall have to lick him after all. Manners, what have you done with the old dog-whip we used to keep for the lower boys?

"Safe in my desk," replies Manners, who, being a good-natured fellow, likes to keep that instrument of torture locked up; "but Egerton's a good little fellow; you mustn't be too hard upon him this time."

"I never could see the difference between a good fellow and a bad one," replies Ropsley. "If I want a thing done I choose the most likely person to do it; and if he fails it's his fault and not mine, and he must suffer for it. I've no prejudices, my good friend, and no feelings, they're only different words for the same thing; and, depend upon it, people get on much better without them. But come let's walk down to the village, and look after him. I'll go and ask March if he wants any thing down the road.'"

Luckily for me, my chastiser had not proceeded half-a-mile upon his way, ere he met the "King of Naples" in person hot and breathless, flustered with drink and running, and more incoherent than usual in his conversation and demeanor. He approached Ropsley, who was the most magnificent of his patrons, with hat in hand, and somewhat the air of a dog that knows he has done wrong.

You've got De Rohan and Edgerton into some scrape; I see it in your ugly old face. Tell me all about it this instant, or it will be worse for you."

"Doan't hurry a man so, squire: pray ye, now, doan't. I be only out o' breath, and the lads they be safe enough by this time; but I wanted for you to speak up for me to the master, squire. I bain't a morsel to blame. I went a-purpose to see as the young gents didn't get into no mischief; I did indeed. I be an old man now, and it's a long walk for me at my years," whined the old rascal, who was over at the Manor three nights a week when he thought the keepers were out of the way. "And the dog he was most to blame, arter all; but the keepers they've got the young gents safe enough,-and that's all about it." So saying, he stood bolt upright, like a man who has fired his last shot, and is ready to abide the worst. Truth to tell, the King of Naples was horribly afraid of Ropsley.

The latter thought for a moment, put his hand in his pocket, and gave the poacher half-a-crown. "You hold your tongue," said he, "or you'll get into worse trouble than any of them. Now go home, and don't let me hear of your stirring out for twenty-four hours. Be off! Do you hear?"

Old "Nap" obeyed, and hobbled off to his cottage, there to spend the term of his enforced residence in his favorite occupation of drinking, whilst Ropsley walked rapidly on to the village, and directed his steps to that well-known inn, "The Grayhound," of which every boy at Everdon School was more or less a patron.

"What's up now, you old reprobate?" said the latter, in his most supercilious manner-a manner, I may observe, he adopted In ten minutes' time there was much to all whom he could influence without con- ringing of bells and general confusion perciliating, and which made the conciliation vading that establishment; the curly-headed doubly wnining to the favored few, waiter (do all waiters have curly hair!) "What's up now! Drunk again, I suppose, as usual?"

rushed to and fro with a glass-cloth in his hand: the barmaid drooped her long ringlets "Not drunk, squire—not drunk, as I'm a over her own window-sill, within which she livin' man," replied the poacher, sawing the was to be seen at all hours of the day and air in deprecation with a villanously dirty night, like a pretty picture in its frame; the hand. Hagitated, perhaps, and over-anx-lame hostler stumped about with an activity ious about the young gen'lemen-O! them lads, them lads!" and he leered at his patron as much as to hint that he had a precious story to tell, if it was only made worth his while.

foreign to his usual methodical nature, and a chaise and pair was ordered to be got ready immediately for Beverley Manor.

Richard the Third is said to have been born with all his double teeth sharp set and in

Ropsley, however, was no morbid whiner over that which is irretrievable. He never lost a chance by his own carelessness; and if he failed, as all must often fail, he never looked back. Aide toi, et Dieu, t'aidera is a motto that comprises in five words the noblest code of human philosophy; the first part of the sentence Ropsley had certainly adopted for his guidance, and, to do him justice, he never was remiss in any sense of the word in helping himself.

good masticatory order. It is my firm belief grown gray. But the boy thinks there is that Ropsley was also ushered into the world time enough; the youth grudges all that inwith his wisdom teeth in a state of maturity. terferes with his pleasures; and the man He had, indeed, an old head upon young only finds the value of energy and persevershoulders; and yet this lad was brought up ance when it is too late to avail himself of and educated by his mother until he was them. O opportunity!-opportunity!sent to school. Perhaps he was launched phantom goddess of success, that not one in into the world too early; perhaps his recol- a million has decision to seize and make his lections of home were not vivid enough to own: if hell be paved with good intentions, soften his character or awaken his feelings. it might be roofed with lost opportunities. When I first knew him he had been an orphan for years; but I am bound to say that the only being of whom he spoke with reverence was his mother. I never heard him mention her name but twice, and each time a soft light stole over his countenance and altered the whole expression of his features, till I could hardly believe it was the same person. From home, when a very little boy, he was sent to Eton; and after a long process of hardening in that mimic world, was transferred to Everdon, more as a private pupil than a scholar. Here it was that I first knew him; and great as was my boyish admiration for the haughty, aristocratic youth just verging upon manhood, it is no wonder that I watched and studied his character with an intensity born of my own ardent disposition, the enthusiasm of which was all the stronger for having been so repressed and concealed in my strange and solitary childhood. Most children are heroworshippers, and my hero for the time was Ropsley.

Poor, though of good family, his object was to attain a high position in the social world, power, wealth, and influence, especially the latter, but each and all as a means towards self-aggrandizement. The motive might not be amiable or noble, but it was better than none at all, and he followed it out most energetically. For this object he spared no pains, he feared no self-denial, he grudged no sacrifice. He was a scholar, and he meant to make the most of his scholarship, just as he made the most of his cricket-playing, his riding, his skill in all He was, I think, the only instance I can sports and exercises. He knew that his recollect of a mere boy proposing to himself physical good looks and capabilities would

be of service to him hereafter, and he cultivated them just as he stored and cultivated that intellect which he valued not for itself, but as a means to an end.

a certain aim and end in life, and going steadily forward to its attainment without pause or deviation. I often think, now, what is there that a man with ordinary faculties might not attain, would he but pro- "If I had fifty thousand a-year," I once pose to himself at fourteen that position heard him say to Manners, "I should take which he would wish to reach at forty? no trouble about any thing. Depend upon it, Show me the hill that six-and-twenty years the real thing to live for is enjoyment. of perseverance would fail to climb. But But if I had only forty-five thousand I no; the boy never thinks of it at all-or if should work like a slave-it would not quite he does, he believes the man of forty to be give me the position I require." verging on his grave, and too old to enjoy any of the pleasures of existence, should he have the means of indulging them. He will not think so when he has reached that venerable period; though, after all, age is a relative term, and too often totally irrespective of years. Many a heart is ruined and worn out long ere the form be bent or the head

Such was Ropsley at this the earliest period of our acquaintance.

"Drive to Beverley Manor," said he, as he made himself thoroughly comfortable amongst the cushions, let down all the windows, and settled himself to the perusal of the last daily paper.

Any other boy would have gone in a gig.