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tions; but, from the vacant stare he received them with, there was no evidence of his so doing.

"The ice will not sink further," said the Squire," if you continue quite quiet."

"Oh, Mr. Lawrence!" exclaimed Mary, clasping her hands with agony, "What can be done?"

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"Hush!” replied the Squire energetically,

say not a word.”

"Shall I run for a rope?" eagerly asked our hero with a blanched cheek and flashing eye, ready to risk his life and limb for his good old friend, and yet in trouble and doubt how to proceed.

"Let us form a line, hand in hand, from the bank," suggested the Rector," and select the lightest-"

"A wise thought," interrupted the Squire. "Stand here," continued he, thrusting some on the bank, and directing a few of the slightest to kneel and stretch themselves along the ice,

and grasp each other's legs. "And mind," continued he, authoritatively, " if one of ye let go your hold, under any circumstances, I'll have him branded for a coward and a cur."

Under the superintendence of the Squire, a line of human heels and arms was formed, and when another would reach John Hardy, our hero threw himself forwards, and, climbing over the out-stretched forms speedily laid a firm hold of the saturated victim of his own temerity.

With loud cheers John was dragged in safety to the shore, and then, mounted on the shoulders of four lusty men, was carried quickly in triumph to the Hall.

It was some time before he had sufficiently recovered, with the aid of strong and reeking brandy-and-water, and other restoratives, to clearly comprehend the exact state of his sublunary existence; but upon receiving the fourth jorum of grog from the hands of the attentive Squire, and perceiving the number of friends

VOL. II.

N

round his bed, smiles spread themselves over his pallid countenance like a succession of circles upon disturbed water; and, although silently, John expressively conveyed the improvement of his condition.

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Surety secure; but modest doubt is called

The beacon of the wise, the bent that searches
To the bottom of the worst."

"It is somewhat strange that we hear nothing of our Mercury, Tobias Smith," remarked the Squire, sipping his tea at the matin meal.

"The letter-bag has not come in yet," replied Tom; "we may receive intelligence this morning."

John Hardy was in the act of shaving a thin fat and lean slice from a juicy ham, when our hero made this anticipatory observation; and, abruptly quitting the task, nodded his head,

and rejoined, in a portentous voice, that, "He

shouldn't wonder."

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"Why?" asked the Squire.

"For three successive nights," returned John deliberately, "I've dreamt

"

"Pooh, pooh!" interrupted the Squire, “I put no faith in dreams, more particularly in yours, since, upon one occasion, your imagination led you to make a bonfire of this old place."

"Well, well!" returned John, resuming his knife and fork: "as you please, Harry; but, depend upon it, I haven't dreamt of seeing a sort of snow-storm of letters for nothing."

"Were they sealed or wafered?" inquired our hero, laughing.

"You're a heretic, Tom," responded John Hardy," and I shall not reply to the query."

"If we don't soon hear something more satisfactory than we have done hitherto from Mr. Smith," said the Squire, "I shall propose new measures to obtain a clue to our object."

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