time he visited Glasgow, and there effected a robbery of one of the banks. For this crime he did not escape the law. He was brought to trial at Edinburgh in 1820, was condemned to be executed, but died in jail while under reprieve from his sentence.

The most striking part of the evidence which Mr Denovan adduces against Mackoull, is the report of a conversation which he had with that person in the condemned cell of the Edinburgh Jail, in July 1820, when Mackoull was very doubtful of being reprieved. To pursue his own narrative, which is in the third person: 'He told Captain Sibbald [the superior of the prison] that he intended to ask Mackoull a single question relative to the murder of Begbie, but would first humour him by a few jokes, so as to throw him off his guard, and prevent him from thinking he had called for any particular purpose [it is to be observed, that Mr Denovan had a professional acquaintance with the condemned man]; but desired Captain Sibbald to watch the features of the prisoner, when he (Denovan) put his hand to his chin, for he would then put the question he meant. After talking some time on different topics, Mr Denovan put this very simple question to the prisoner: "By the way, Mackoull, if I am correct, you resided at the foot of New Street, Canongate, in November 1806-did you not?"

'He stared-he rolled his eyes; and as if falling into a a convulsion, threw himself back upon his bed. In this condition he continued for a few moments, when, as if recollecting himself, he started up, exclaiming wildly: ! I was then in the East Indies-in the West Indies-What do you mean?"

“No,

"I mean no harm, Mackoull,” he replied; "I merely asked the question for my own curiosity; for I think when you left these lodgings, you went to Dublin-is it not so ?"

"Yes, yes, I went to Dublin,” he replied; "and I wish I had remained there still-I won ten thousand pounds there at the tables, and never knew what it was to want

cash, although you wished the folks here to believe that they locked me up in Old Start (Newgate), and brought down your friend Adkins to swear he saw me therethis was more than your duty."

'He now seemed to rave, and lose all temper, and his visitor bade him good-night, and left him.'

It appears extremely probable, from the strong circumstantial evidence which has been offered by Mr Denovan, that Mackoull was the murderer of Begbie.

STORY OF THE PYRENEES.

A DAY'S ramble among the winding passes of the Pyrenees, a few summers ago, brought me, towards evening, in sight of a lonely auberge, situated in the line of one of the rough and uneven roads connecting the French and Spanish frontiers. The spectacle gave me great pleasure; my foot sprang more lightly from the ground, and my shoulder no longer felt sore under the burden of my gun. On reaching the inn in question, I found it to be small, but to wear an air of comfort and neatness, which spoke to me, at the first glance, of good food and a sweet night's rest. Nor was the appearance of the human beings whom I saw within its walls at variance with this agreeable prognostication. I was received and kindly welcomed by a young woman, extremely good-looking, and with a pretty child, of about a year old, in her arms. She wore the usual costume of these regions, which is a perpetual combination of bright colours. A red handkerchief was bound round her head, and her vest, petticoat, and stockings, were all stuffs striped and tinted with various dyes. When I mentioned to her my wants, she called a young girl from another apartment, and, giving her the child, began herself actively to prepare some refreshment for me. The respectable animal called the goat was of great

service on this occasion; for in a short time I sat down to flesh, milk, and cheese, all provided by that rock-loving and four-footed mountaineer.

As the main apartment-namely, the kitchen-is the only place where travellers abide under such circumstances as I was, I had opportunities of conversing with my hostess during the preparation of my meal. She seemed to be cheerful, though not gay. Her husband, she told me, was out on the hills, along with a lad who assisted him in the management of the little spot of ground attached to their residence. By the time that I sat down to my repast, the shades of evening had begun to fall in, and while I ate-as I did most heartily, if not voraciously-I observed my hostess beginning to shew signs of impatience. Ever and anon she went to the door and looked abroad, returning each time with visible anxiety on her countenance. I was tempted at length to ask, 'If a storm was at hand, or if she feared any impending evil?'

'Ah, sir,' said she, 'I am only a little distressed that Miguel, my husband, should be out so long. It will soon be dark.'

'Is there any danger?' I asked; 'has the neighbourhood a bad name?'

"O no, sir,' replied she; 'the country is now thought to be quite safe, and I am perhaps foolish to be uneasy; but it was once very unsafe, and we suffered so much from it in consequence, that I cannot rid myself of fear at times.' She bent down her head as she spoke, and appeared to lose for a moment the sense of present uneasiness in the revived recollection of the past. At this instant the door opened, and a tall, strapping, sunburnt fellow entered, whom I immediately conjectured to be the husband, from his being followed by a young peasant. My hostess had sprung to her feet, and I thought it augured well for her husband's marital tenderness, that he at once noticed her to have been discomposed, and exclaimed: What, Inez, at thy old terrors!" Then, noticing me for the first time in the growing dusk,

he continued: And strangers with thee, too!' He then saluted me civilly, and we were soon engaged in

conversation.

I stayed two days with Miguel and his wife, and became excellent friends with them. I found an opportunity to gratify my curiosity, by inquiring into the misfortunes which my hostess had alluded to as having arisen from the former insecurity of the country, and I heard the whole story from her. I now present it to the reader.

'But a few years ago,' said Inez, which was my hostess's name, 'my father was the tenant of this house, where we now live. Here I was born, and here had the misfortune to lose my mother in my youth; in short, all my days have been spent here. When I was about eighteen, I became first acquainted with Miguel, who had hired himself as conductor of a wagon that passed regularly by this road from one side of the mountains to another. The wagon always stopped a night here as it passed, and Miguel and I began to love each other. Nor was it long ere we were both aware that this was the case. My father saw the state of our affections as well as we did, and he was not averse to our union, for he was growing old, and, even at the best, he always required a lad to assist him with the little farm, upon which our support depended much more than on the visits of travellers to the house.

It was at length settled, that Miguel and I should be married as soon as he had completed his term in his present occupation.

'When this arrangement was made, Miguel had but three journeys backwards and forwards to perform. These were long journeys to be sure, and, what was worse, there were reports of recent robberies at no great distance, which made travelling dangerous. The first journey, however, was performed in safety. When Miguel came to us on his way over the mountains a second time, some circumstances took place which afterevents caused us to remember. A traveller had come to our house that day, before Miguel reached us with his wagon. That traveller was a dark, active-looking man,

dressed in the ordinary Spanish fashion, and seemingly in the prime of life. Before Miguel arrived, this visitor addressed himself to me in such a manner as was very disagreeable. I at first indeed paid little attention to his words, for my thoughts that day were occupied with another subject. When, at length, encouraged it may be by my silence, he would have carried his freedoms further, I repulsed him civilly, but firmly, and told him plainly that my affections and hand were engaged to another. The dark malignant smile which passed over his countenance when I said this, gave me new and unpleasing ideas of our guest, whom I had hitherto regarded as only a man of a light and sportive temperament. He did not alter his conduct, nor, even when Miguel came, did he desist from annoying me. This gave me much alarm, for I perceived Miguel's brow to darken on observing his behaviour. Nor was my alarm groundless, for, on the traveller's seizing and holding me by the arm as I accidentally passed him, Miguel sprang up, and threw him violently to the further end of the room, where he fell heavily on the floor. In an instant the man was on his feet, had his long knife drawn from his belt, and seemed about to spring upon Miguel. But my father chanced to enter at that moment, and the traveller, uttering a violent threat, hastily left the house. Though he had spoken of resting all night, he did not return.

son.

'On being informed of what had passed, my father, who had been in a weak state of health for some time, said to Miguel: "I grow weaker and weaker every day, my dear It is time that you were here to protect Inez-and myself also, Heaven help me! Had you not been here accidentally just now, we might have been exposed to any insult from such a rude visitor as this." Miguel was so much struck by the truth of the remark, that, after a pause of a moment, he replied: "You are right; I ought to be here to guard over those whose lives are so dear to me; and I will be here without delay, if I can get a trustworthy substitute to perform the rest of this journey for me when I reach the town of Ai." We talked long on