forth accordingly one sunny evening, the stranger availing himself of the arm that each tendered to his acceptance, but declaring that he felt so much recruited and invigorated by the breezes as not to need support of any sort. At the commencement of their walk but few words were uttered by any of the party, for each was oppressed by the thought that this was in all likelihood the last excursion they should take together, the last interview they should ever enjoy; and when they found speech, the tender melancholy that all felt imparted a deep and endearing tone to this, their farewell conversation. There was such sweetness, however, even in its sadness, that the stranger, eager to delay as long as possible the moment of return and separation, strolled forward to some distance, in spite of the warnings of the affectionate and watchful Edith, backed by the urgent remonstrances of Agatha. Fatigued and heated by exertions incommensurate with his strength, he at length sat down to rest himself before they returned towards the house. By this time the

sun had set, a cool air had sprung up, he lingered on the bench until a chill sensation struck through him, and he was reminded of his imprudence by a sudden shuddering of his whole frame.

In

His agitated companions now hurried him home as fast as his increasing debility and indisposition would allow, when Father Bartholomew, shaking his head regretfully at the symptoms, ordered him to bed immediately. spite of all the remedies applied, a sudden and sharpe relapse ensued, the patient passed a sleepless night, the fever returning with frightful rapidity and increase, directed itself towards the brain, and by the following noon he was in a raging delirium. The most sorrowful and distressing apprehensions now clouded every brow, and saddened every heart at Hales Court, where their unknown inmate had excited the interest, and won the good graces of all. Father Bartholomew, distrusting his competency to grapple with this alarming aggravation of the malady, suggested the propriety of calling in a

regular physician, a proposal which was on the point of being carried into effect, when a discovery was made that for the moment swallowed up every other thought in the paramount object of self-preservation, and filled the whole house with consternation and dismay. In his delirious exclamations, the patient had called upon Sir Miles Forester as his father, desiring most earnestly to see him, and crying out in the next moment, "I am Stanley Forester-I am Stanley Forester !-my friends Sidney and Herbert are safe, they have escaped, I care not for myself— I surrender-I surrender !"

To appreciate the terror and affright excited in the minds of his auditors by these ejaculations, it must be stated that the individual who had thus unconsciously betrayed his name, had been publicly proclaimed a traitor for being concerned in Monmouth's rebellion, as well as for more recent acts of disaffection to King James's government; that a reward had been offered for his apprehension, and that it had been declared high treason to harbour or con

ceal him, or to refuse giving him up where and whensoever he should be discovered! The

knowledge of the awful responsibility they had incurred would have been sufficiently appalling at any time, but it fell with a more astounding effect upon a family who, having witnessed the terrible and bloody executions of Jeffreys and Kirke only three years before, knew that no mercy was to be expected by those who gave succour or protection to such an inmate as was now lodged within their gates. Nor could they any longer plead ignorance- he had confessed his name they knew it to be that of a proclaimed traitor, they were bound to give him up, or they became themselves liable to all the frightful penalties of treason!

Of these startling facts, Agatha and Edith, who had been present at the moment of his self-betraying exclamations, were perfectly conscious, and they were therefore parties to the consultation that was now held during an uneasy slumber of the patient, to discuss what course should be adopted in this most perilous

dilemma. A more sad and deeply affected assemblage it would not have been possible to find. The heart-stricken females were too much afflicted by the sickness and peril of the stranger to dream of their own danger; Mr. Shelton felt for his daughter and her friend more than for himself; Father Bartholomew thought only how they might best discharge the duties of charity and Christian love, and yet avoid any unnecessary compromise of their common safety. There was a solemn silence of some minutes, during which all eyes were bent upon the venerable priest: Mr. Shelton's and his daughter's, because in every emergency they had been accustomed to look up to him for consolation and adviceEdith's, because his age and experience seemed best to qualify him for a counsellor.

"I had urged the necessity of calling in farther medical advice," said the Father," willing to dwell first upon the least alarming points, "but I do not now think that such a measure would be advisable, whether we consider the patient's safety or our own, nor am I without