before him. At length they arrived at the hamlet before-mentioned : it was, of course, crammed full of the pleasure-seekers, who had come to be present at the fête. Ronald experienced some uneasiness as to his lodging for the night, but was relieved by one of the old men, who told him that a kinsman of his lived hard by, who would give him a corner of his house, which he would share with his young comrade. Together they proceeded to the house, in which they found many people congregated they entered and sat down; but scarcely had Ronald taken his place, ere he felt his arms pinioned from behind, his feet at the same moment were lifted from the ground, and in spite of his violent struggles he was bound hand and foot, and laid upon the earthen floor of the apartment. So sudden had been the attack, that he had been overpowered at once; and now, as he looked up, he saw around him three or four of the regular foresters, who were the persons that had effected his capture. Alas! for poor Ronald and his golden dreams of drinking and dancing for the night, and pleasure and sight-seeing in the morning. Rudely dragged along the floor, a door leading into a small hole, half-room, half-closet, was opened, and he was thrown in and left to meditations of no pleasant nature. Bitterly did he curse his own folly and imprudence, and the old rascals who had first inveigled, and then betrayed him, came in for no small share of his maledictions. The noise of the music and dancing in the adjoining room rung in his ears, and kept him awake the greater part of the night; but at length, tired out with his journey of the day and the agitation of his mind, he slept as soundly as a half-famished man (for none gave him bite or sup) could sleep on a cold, hard, earthen floor. Early in the morning the Baron was informed that the old men, whom he had sent to the hill as watchers, when he withdrew his foresters to swell his array, had succeeded in catching a most desperate deer-stealer, and that the culprit was securely lodged in the neighbouring hamlet. Of course the exploit was greatly magnified, and the Baron having still some time after breakfast before his royal guest could arrive, ordered that poor Ronald should be brought up for judgment. He was rudely awakened, and his bonds untied; and after five minutes allowed him to stretch his legs, cramped by the confinement of the thongs, he was placed between two stalwart foresters armed to the teeth, and conducted forth from his miserable prison. When he reached the outside of the house, many a laugh was raised at the poor fellow's haggard and woe-begone appearance. A man does not preserve much brilliancy after a hard day's work on the hill, followed by a night's lodging in a prison, bound hand and foot, and without food; and the unhappy Ronald in his dirty draggled jacket and kilt was a wonderful contrast to the numerous well-dressed Highlanders scattered about. For an instant he felt as if he could sink into the earth; then, stung by the taunting laugh, all his native resolution returned to him, and he marched along between his guards with a step and air that showed off his fine figure, in spite of his travel-stained garments. At another time the fact of a deer-stealer being brought before the great lord might have attracted a crowd, but now the whole population were on the look-out for her Majesty, and as the prisoner was led in a contrary direction from that in which she was to arrive, not a soul accompanied him but his two guards. Thus they proceeded until they entered between two rows of armed and well-dressed Highlanders, who

were drawn up facing each other, as a guard of honour on each side of the road by which the Queen was to approach the castle. These stalwart warriors could not suppress their mirth as the captive was led between their ranks; and their scorn annoyed Ronald more than that of the meaner crowd, and probably gave him the determination to make the desperate attempt he now did. Springing suddenly from between his two guards, he turned sharply and fronted them. A well-directed blow of his first levelled the nearer of the two to the earth, and a second prostrated one of the guard of honour, who sprang to the rescue. An opening was thus made, and through the line darted Ronald, and stretched away at full speed along a road which led from that point towards his native north. A scene of dire confusion followed; all order was broken; and in a moment above a hundred pursuers were hotly following the footsteps of the fugitive. Continuing at his first speed till out of the reach of immediate recapture, Ronald began to consider it necessary to husband his strength, and therefore slackened his pace. Looking back from time to time, he found that even when considerably within his top pace, he could still hold his own with the fastest of his pursuers; but he dreaded lest horses, of which there were many in the Baron's stables, might be brought out, and determined to leave the road as soon as possible. He had met no one, for all the people were on the road to the south; and as soon as he arrived at a large fir-wood, along the edge of which the road ran, he turned to the right and dashed into cover. His pursuers gave a shout of exulation, for they imagined that exhaustion had caused him to seek a hiding-place, and they also dashed into the wood, spreading, in order to search it more thoroughly. But they had not calculated on the sinews of a mountaineer hardened by constant exercise on his bleak hills. Ronald, far from hiding in the wood, pressed through it, and up the hill upon the side of which it hung, and emerged at the top ere the others were half-way through. From this point only a few continued the chase, while the rest returned to report their failure. The farther Ronald went, the farther he left those few behind, until having shaken the last of them off, he returned in safety to Rathmore, where, during the breathing intervals of a huge supper, he recounted his adventures to his friends Allan and Duncan, and many others, amid roars of laughter, sometimes at his expense, sometimes at that of the men of Glenaldy-mingled with praises of his courage and activity, and vows of vengeance against the old traitors who had decoyed him into the scrape, from which he had so gallantly and so dexterously cleared himself."

(To be continued.)

STOCKWELL,

WINNER OF THE ST. LEGER, 1852.

ENGRAVED BY E. HACKER, FROM A PAINTING BY HARRY HALL.

BY CASTOR.

Stockwell, bred by the late Mr. Theobald in 1849, and called after his well-known breeding establishment at Stockwell, was got by the Baron out of Pocahontas, by Glencoe, her dam Marpessa, by MuleyClare, by Marmion-Gohanna.

The Baron, bred in Ireland by Mr. Watt in 1842, was got by Birdcatcher out of Echidna, by Economist. He won the St. Leger in 1845, as well as the Cesarewitch of the same year, and was altogether a firstrate race-horse. His career, however, on the turf was not a long one, and his trial as a stud-horse, at least in this country, equally short. At the sale, following the decease of Mr. Theobald, in 1850, he was knocked down to a French commissioner for 1,010 guineas. His stock, which came out as two-year-olds last season, included in the list of winners Aitchbone, Benita, Chief Baron Nicholson, and Lady Isabel; the first year of his three-year-olds producing a St. Leger winner. It may be remarked, that while both the Derby and Oaks winners of 1852 are by Irish Birdcatcher, Stockwell is a grandson of the same celebrated stallion.

Pocahontas, bred by the late Mr. Forth in 1837, was a strong favourite for the Oaks of her year, but she never fulfilled the promise made for her. In 1842, having been purchased of Mr. Greatrex, Mr. Theobald put her to the stud. Here, again, up to the Baron cross, she showed with but little success-Cambaules and Dolly Varden being amongst the most remarkable of her produce. The latter, by the way, was as little favoured by the Graces as Stockwell, while she altogether lacked that general recommendation of plain young ladies, an amiable temper. At Mr. Theobald's sale, Pocahontas was knocked down for 260 guineas-to Captain Thellusson, we believe-but within these few

months has been resold to Lord Exeter.

Stockwell is a bright chestnut horse, standing sixteen hands high; he has rather a plain head, with a Roman nose, and small ears; a short, strong neck, with good shoulders, and fair depth of girth; his ribs and barrel are immense, his back and loins showing great power, and his quarters equally good, though a little short from the hip to the tail; he has very powerful thighs and arms, large hocks, knees, and bone generally, with very sound legs and feet. He has a blaze of white in his forehead, running right down to his nose, and two white heels behind; a switch tail, which, like his head, he carries well up; and a most even, easy temper, both for public and private life. Stockwell altogether is a fine, powerful, but by no means handsome horse (our friend Gayhurst, indeed, considers him "the very incarnation of ugliness"), and looking quite as much like carrying sixteen stone to hounds as winning a Leger.