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that I had this money; for Walter (so he told thought I should have dropped. I knew at me) had only bank-bills or bank-notes, or checks, once that the elopement had been discoverd, and or something of the kind (for I don't understand I could conjecture papa's anger, from the way in these matters), which could not be paid at the which he said to me, "Mary! come with me to country banks; so that, as he very truly said, al- the house: " for when he was pleased with me, though he had hundreds of pounds in his pock- he always called me " Polly." I went with him. et, he was in the awkward position of a person Sarah followed us, and I heard Fred lock the who had not even a farthing to pay his current garden-door behind us. Strange to say, I neithexpenses. er fainted nor went into hysterics, though I felt Papa, and Fred came on Saturday, but, in--oh! how I did feel! for I had a foreboding that stead of returning to London on the Monday I had seen my last of dear Walter. morning, they announced their intention of staying a couple of days longer, in order to have a little fishing. Although I had not expected this, yet my plans were too well arranged to be materially affected by this circumstance; and I passed that day full of hopeful expectation for the following morning. Fortunately, Walter and I had agreed not to see each other after our Saturday's walk, until he should come for me in the chaise on the Tuesday morning; so that I was able to devote myself to papa and Fred, and indeed, to go out fishing with them. They little expected the prize that I should catch the next day.

When we reached the house, papa took me into our sitting-room-mamma had not yet come back from taking her bath-and there told me how the elopement had been frustrated. What was my surprise on hearing that Sarah, whom I had believed to be such a faithful confidante, had turned traitress, and, on the previous afternoon, had disclosed my secret to papa. I afterwards learned that the faithless creature had been instigated to this treachery from the basest mercena ry motives; her Baymouth lover having persuaded her that it would be more to her (and, consequent ly to his) advantage, if she kept her situation with mamma, than if she left Baymouth with me; and he It came that long-looked-for Tuesday morn- further represented to his dupe, that Mr. Vernon ing; so bright and beaming, and with such a would be, what he called, a a skinflint" master, deep blue cloudless sky, that it quite gave a zest because he had never made her one present dur to the pleasure of being married on such a charm-ing the days of his courtship; and he also told ing day. her that she would be sure to be very handsomeI was up unusually early, and prepared every-ly rewarded by mamma and papa, for disclosing thing for my wedding. How I managed to eat anything at breakfast, I can't imagine; but I compelled myself to have a ravenous appetite, in order to keep up appearances. Papa and Fred were so particularly silent, that I was obliged to talk for all parties; so I rattled on finely and by this means got over breakfast capitally. Papa and Fred then went out-to have another day's fishing, I suppose. This was fortunato. As Tuesday was one of mamma's bath mornings, I had calculated that she would be out at ten o'clock; and it was therefore, with @omo satisfaction that I saw her set off. Now, then, I was free!

to them the plans of my intended elopement. I had, at least, the satisfaction of knowing that Sarah's perfidious treachery was punished, by papa paying her a quarter's wages in advance, and then dismissing her from the house, for the part she had taken in secretly assisting Mr. Vernon and me in our meetings and love affairs. She married her Baymouth lover, and in less than three months brought him before the magistrates for cruelly beating and ill-using her. Such was her fate.

As papa narrated Sarah's betrayal of me, I could not help speaking out against her treach ery; when papa told me that I ought to be thankThe faithful Sarah had everything in readi-ful for it; "though," he added, "your plans would ness, and precisely at five minutes to ten (I knew have been frustrated without Sarah's interventhe time to a second!) we slipped out of the tion." And then he told what it startled me to house, and walked down the garden, telling the hear, and what it sickens me to write. landlady that we were going that way for a stroll, It appeared that on the previous afternoon, and should be back soon after mainma had re-when wo had returned from our fishing expedi turned from her bath. How my heart beat as tion, a detective policeman had come to papa, BY DEXLY compiante unlocked the garden-door! having been sent to him from London by old Mr. but the chaise was not yet there. To consume the Whinney, with orders to arrest dear Walter and time I sout Sarah back to the house for some-Captain O'Bang for swindling! The dreadful thing that I had pretended to have forgotten, way in which I had been duped was then made and was thus able to wait at the garden-door known to me. The captain was no captain, but without exciting the landlady's suspicion—a penniless, low-born Irish adventurer; and Mr. Whom Sarah rejoined me, as the chaise had not Walter Vernon, instead of being the son of a you arceved, we walked about in the lane. What gentleman of family and property in the North, An ago those tow moments seemed. Even now, was a person of no family or property at all, but I can recall she hoarse roar of the sea, as we then was a most dreadful character, and was known hoard i, wararareg and breaking upon the shore, to the policemen under a variety of names, șu tudelibly ve dose moments impressed on my, though his real name was James Higginbottom. A leaged, od joy the chaise ap What a contrast was the name that had attracted proached, and as a sigh Hom some one inside, my romantic affection! drew up wi yada do M 1 hastened f Ward as Phe chane door opened, and met papa mud Fied deaccuding from the veäicle!

Papa's agonizing disclosures further made known to me the fact, that the paper which Cap. Įtain O'Bang had brought to Mr. Whinney's, and

which had been signed by Mr. Joseph under the the policeman, that the two conspirators (as I impression that it was an apology, was nothing may call them) should not be taken into custody of the kind, but was, in reality, an order for a till the following morning; though, in order that large sum of money upon Mr. Whinney's bank- they might not escape, the policeman watched ers. I now remembered how I had peeped their lodgings closely. Then, in the morning, through the key-hole of the library-door, when he proceeded with papa and Fred to Mr. VerMr. Joseph had signed the paper, and how I had non's lodgings; and, after they had concealed seen the way in which the trembling coward had themselves among the bushes that grew around written his name, without looking to see what the cottage, he darted from his hiding-place, and he was signing. This document, so fraudulent-arrested Mr. Vernon at the very moment that he ly obtained, had, it seemed, produced a large was stepping into the chaise that was to have sam, which had been divided between the cap-borne him to my side. But papa and Fred took tain and Mr. Vernon (at least Mr. H-m), and the plot had been so cleverly contrived, that it was only by a lucky accident that Mr. Whinney had discovered the deceit.

the chaise, and drove on to me; and the police. man, after that he had placed his prisoner in se curity, went to Yelverton Church to arrest his other prisoner. But Captain O'Bang was not there; in some way or other he had got scent of his danger, and had made good his escape. Papa thought that he might not have been far from the scene of his fellow-deceiver's capture, and may thus have been made aware that their plot was discovered; but, however that might be, the Irish adventurer made his escape, and has never since crossed my path: nor have we ever heard any tidings of him; nor did papa take any trouble to have a search made for him.

It further appeared (I thought that papa would never get to the end of these heartrending disclosures) that my would-be husband had, as a boy, been respectably brought up as a lawyer's clerk, but, having got into bad company, and been tempted to embezzle some of his employer's money, had run away from his situation; and ever since then, had subsisted by various dishonest means, his most respectable occupation having been that of a billiard-marker. It seemed that he intended to marry me merely that he Much of the foregoing distressing narrative might secure as much of my property as he could papa at once explained to me: with the rest I lay hands upon-it was for this reason that he was afterwards made acquainted. My pride was had waited until I was of age-and, as soon as he so hurt, and I felt so broken down and cresthad done this, that he intended to desert me, and fallen, that I fell at papa's feet, and prayed for escape to America or Australia. Not that I should his forgiveness, promising to do my best to learn have been his real wife! for the wretch already to be a better daughter than I had hitherto been. had a wife-a low, vulgar woman, who was an "You may well fall upon your knees, my girl, inferior actress at a very common theatre, and and ask pardon," said papa; "but ask the parsung at what they call "saloons." He had, it don of One whom you have more deeply offendappeared, at one period of his checkered career, ed, and whose loving and obedient child you been an actor; and it was perhaps his acquaint-must pray to be, if you wish to live happily, and ance with the stage that enabled him to be so clever at his disguises (his wig of raven locks, for instance), and at those fine novel-like speeches which had so often impressed my too susceptible heart. And I had been imposed on by this monster! and, even by the time that it was made known to me, might have passed into the wretch's power, and been made Mrs. Higginbottom Num-ment of my oldest friend, Madge; the knowledge ber Two!

It appeared that when Mr. Whinney made the discovery that his son's name had been fraudulently secured, and that money had been obtained by the signature, he had consulted with Mr. Joseph and the detective policeman; and the result was-at a suggestion by Madge, that Mr. Vernon would probably have followed me to Baymouth-that the detective was sent down, with orders to take no steps in the matter without first consulting papa, who (as Mr. Whinney rightly concluded) might not wish to have the affair made public. It was subsequent to his interview with the policeman, that papa was told by Sarah of our intended elopement. He ordered her to say nothing about it to any one, but to obey my orders, and even to set out with me in the morning, in the way that I had proposed. Papa said that he should take care to prevent the wedding; but that he was anxious to see whether or no I should repent of my purpose, before taking the final and irretrievable step.

On hearing Sarah's tale, papa arranged with

bring comfort to those around you. You have pretended to entertain feelings that you have never felt; you have been guilty of deceptions that were the worst kind of falsehoods; and what have you gained ?"

What, indeed! The ridicule of my acquaintance; the anger of my parents, the estrange

that I had confided in those who had turned against me; that I had lent myself to petty shifts and contrivances, at which I now blushed; the conviction that I had, so far as intention went, lent myself to a step which would have brought me to ruin and shame; and the galling feeling that I had endured all this for a person who had played with my affections, only for the sake of gain, and who was nothing more than a felon. As I thought of this chain of circumstances, and acknowledged my deep thankfulness at being rescued from their thraldom, I could learn from them the healthful lesson which the bitter experience of my acquaintance with Mr. Vernon had taught me, that they who seek to profane the sacred name of Love, will assuredly meet with their due punishment; for that the altar of Love is lit with a heaven-sent flame, and must be approached by Love's worshippers with hearts filled with purest motives.

If the lesson of my experience had taught me no other moral than this, I should have derived no small benefit from my "Love's Provocations."

CONCLUSION.

Mr. Brum never repeated his offer. He was so Why do I linger over this narrative? Yet pain-continued to visit at our house, he treated me grieved at my heartlessness, that, although he fül as it is to me to write down the particulars of with a cold indifference; and it was not until I my own shame, I must need note one or two facts had asked his pardon for what I had done, that concerning the person who, for a time, exercised he became on more friendly terms with me. I so great an influence over me. Mr. Vernon (as I must continue to call him) the daughter of his old friend, to keep them; but returned all his presents; but he begged me, as was not prosecuted by Mr. Whinney. Papa was I have never worn them. Poor man! he died anxious to hush up the matter, as, if the case had been brought on for trial there would have found that he had once made a will, in which he soon after this, very suddenly; and it was then been many awkward disclosures? and it would had left me the greatest part of his large prohave been most painful to my family to have my perty, but, on discovering that I had tampered name brought before the public in so prominent with his feelings, had crossed out my name from The detective policeman said that the will, and had left the money to certain instithe abandonment of this particular case was not tutions," where charity and kindness were really of much consequence, as there were many other known and practised." I knew too well, alas! cases against Mr. Vernon, for whom he had long what this meant. been looking. On one of these cases, a forgery, or something of that nature, he was tried, and sentenced to transportation for twenty-one years; and he is now in Van Dieman's Land expiating his many offences and deceptions.

a manner.*

He also naturally felt deeply hurt at having been Joseph Whinney, too, never renewed his offer. led to suppose that he might look to being my husband, at a time when I was expecting to become the wife of another. But Joseph Whinney *NOTE (of explanation and apology).-Mr. Cuth-did not take this to heart; he took to heart somebert Bede scarcely knows how to apologize to Miss thing else; for, in a year after, he was married Polly C-' for the liberty he has taken in thus to Rose Brown. so publicly making use of the MS. which (it is Thus I had been "engaged" at the same time needless to state how) had fallen into his posses- to three persens, each of whom was anxious to sion. MissPolly C,' however, will perceive

that Mr. Cuthbert Bede has refrained from bring-marry me; and yet I had missed all three, and was ing her name before the public; and he trusts that still unmarried. With what greater provocation, her sense of the moral which may be derived from then, could I bring to an end this record of my the narration of her Love's Provocations,' will lead | "LOVE'S PROVOCATIONS?" her to consider this explanation a satisfactory i apology for the liberty he has taken.

ILLUMINATING GAS FROM PEAT.-Messrs. | charge at present necessary for the land carriage Campbell, of Mary-street, have been for some of coals and other material.-Dublin Daily Extime past engaged in solving a very important press. problem as regards this country-the production of illuminating gas from peat. Efforts have been MR. MONTGOMERY MARTIN'S MODEL OF INfrequently made to attain this desirable end, but, DIA.-There is to be seen, a large model of Inowing to certain difficulties, they have heretofore dia constructed by Mr. Montgomery Martin. A failed in completing the process satisfactorily. model of India, is a history in itself. Every spot We may, however, state that the difficulties are is, if we may use the term, classic ground, suggestat length, by combined skill and perseverance, so ing glorious recollections of that short and brilto speak, surmounted, and a quality of gas can liant series of military triumphs which has convertbe produced which will burn with sufficient bril-ed Hindostan from a mere colony of merchants liancy for all useful purposes. We saw the pro- into the brightest jewel of the British empire. The cess yesterday, which is almost as simple as its eye takes in at a glance the southern peninsula, result is valuable, and, though conducted but hedged in by its chain of Ghauts, the Deccan, upon a limited scale, as being experimental, it the long fluvial lines of the Indus and Ganges, illustrated satisfactorily the effects to be pro-and the Punjaub, while in the distance are seen duced when the model gives place to the com- the lofty peaks of the Himalaya chain, and the plete apparatus. We cannot here, of course, des- redoubtable Khyber Pass recalls dread recolleccribe the method by which the gas is produced, tions of the campaign of 1842. purified, and fitted for use, but we may say that with half a pound of ordinary turf peat about a cubic foot of gas was made in the space of a few seconds, while all the ordinary deposits remain, such as charcoal, gas tar, etc., the former an admirable deodorizer. Should our anticipations be correct, it may be found that inland towns and isolated mansions in this country will ere long have within their reach a cheap and simple method of making their own gas without the heavy

THE MORNING MOON.

There are men who linger on the stage
To gather crumbs and fragments of applause
When they should sleep in earth-who, like the

moon,

Have brighten'ed up some little night of time,
And 'stead of setting when their light is worn,
Still linger, like its blank and beamless orb,
When daylight fills the sky.

[Alexander Smith.

From the Examiner, 2 June.

Hungarians, now discover, with blank amazeOUR ALLY TO A CERTAIN EXTENT. ment, that the triumph of Austria through Russian assistance has proved the ruin of the

WE are glad to perceive that certain influ- Empire. They are forced, however unwil ential contemporaries are beginning to repeat lingly, to admit that the Power, in order to a little less confidently and frequently than conciliate which they thought no humiliation they did a few months ago the assurance that too great, is surrounded by difficulties; and England and France may implicitly depend that it dares not, after all the sacrifices that on the good faith of the Austrian Cabinet and have been made to insure its alliance, render the chivalrous character of the stern and reso- any efficient aid against the common enemy. lute young Emperor. We hear no more praises of the wonderful diplomatic ability by which Austria was induced to take part with the Western Powers. At last it seems to be felt that a great error was committed when active military operations were delayed for the sake of obtaining the co-operation of Austria that co-operation which was announced at least twenty times as certain and immediate, but which now appears, after twelve months' negotiations, to be further off than ever.

England is now paying dearly for the blindness which thus directed her councils and guided her opinions. The success that has attended the expedition to the Sea of Azoff shows how much may be effected, and at how slight a cost, by energetic action; and the sailing of the expedition coincides curiously with the closing of the conferences. Was a measure so obviously useful, and so easy in execution, delayed for the sake of conciliating a party to these bootless negotiations? The question may fairly be asked, for such, we have been told by Lord John Russell, was the case last year with regard to the expedition against Sebastopol.

The most devoted believers in the Austrian alliance have indeed been unable to withstand the evidence of the Vienna protocols. It is clear that Russia, while professing to accept But though the negotiations at Vienna have the ultimatum addressed to her by France, proved hitherto so mischievous, we cannot reEngland, and Austria, virtually rejected the gret that they were undertaken. Good fruit, most important stipulation, which required though not of the kind their authors anticipatthat her preponderance in the Black Sea ed, will yet, we believe, be borne by them. should be put an end to. The only terms re- If the Western Powers had not made conceslative to the Black Sea which Russia did not sion after concession to Austria, if they had refuse to accept left her preponderance whol- not carried forbearance and conciliation to ly untouched. Yet we were assured that the the utmost limit, so strong was the belief four points formed the minimum with which which possessed the minds of many influential not only France and England but Austria persons in this country regarding the reliance would be satisfied, and that if any one of those to be placed upon Austria as a barrier against points was rejected, the vaunted army of Aus- Russia, that this dangerous illusion might nevtria would at once take the field. June, how-er have been dispelled. Lord Palmerston we ever, has commenced, and the Austrian troops believe to be one of the very few English content themselves, as they have done for statesmen entirely free from this hallucination, many months, with maltreating the unfortu- and he owes his immunity to the opinion he nate inhabitants of the Principalities. They has not only frequently avowed but invariably manifest not the slightest desire to cross acted on, "that it is the duty of an English swords with the Russians. The treaty of the 2nd December was evidently not so valuable a diplomatic triumph as our contemporaries would have induced us to believe it.

Not belonging to the school of politicians who were convinced that Russia interfered in the Hungarian war for the sake of raising up a barrier against herself by strengthening Austria, to us the result is merely that which for several years we have clearly foreseen and frequently predicted. The overthrow of the Hungarian constitution, which those who are in the habit of beholding Austria from the windows of Vienna hailed as the means of consolidating and strengthening the empire, was in fact the removal of the only real barrier between Russia and Turkey. Diplomatists like Mr. Magenis, who formerly deplored as a misfortune the successes of the

minister for foreign affairs to receive information from whatever quarter it is offered." He did not consider it necessarily false because it was furnished by a political refugee, or necessarily true because it proceeded from the chancery of Vienna. But if Lord Palmerston had set up this individual opinion of his on obtaining power, he would probably very soon have been hurled from it. It is nevertheless quite possible that Austria will, for the future, find it more difficult than formerly to persuade the English public that a statesman must of necessity be a firebrand who does not happen to be on cordial and intimate terms with the Imperial and Apostolic Government.

If any confirmation were needed for the opinion that the boasted army of Austria is a terror only to her subjects, and to the miserable people she protects by placing them under

a

martial law, it might be found in the volume nation to throw off the yoke of Austria. We hope recently published by the "Roving English- ever that the time of our liberation from our man," many parts of which have just received wretched bondage is drawing nearer; when it high and not undeserved eulogium from the comes we shall be ready. The present state of Times. In this book we find related the fol- things cannot endure. God has hardened the hearts of our tyrants that their ruin may be more lowing conversation with a Hungarian gentlecomplete. man. It took place while the author was crossing Hungary on his return to this country, and conveys therefore very late as well as authentic intelligence respecting the actual state of public feeling in the most important portion of the Austrian dominions.

The state of the law here is melancholy to think about; no branch of it displays the smallest activity except the police. A suit on the smallest affairs often lasts for years. The tribu nals will not give decisions till they have been bribed; and abuses exist in all countries where it is forbidden to expose them.

The chilling influence of Austria is everywhere. Education is falling off. We will not send our children to school where they only learn impious praises of despotism and the Em

"Ah, things are very bad here," he rather groaned than said; "we are being ground to dust-arrests, hangings, shootings, floggings, are still going on here. Every one is running away who can do so. I should have gone outland al-peror. so, but for my wife and large family. It is mad- Our servitude is cruel. We cannot dance, fidness for me to speak to you-a stranger-so bold-dle, be born or marry, without permission. Our ly as I do; but you are an Englishman, so that I very songs aud amusements are regulated, and know that I am safe. We are spied everywhere. only allowed at stated times. Three or four of We are not safe from the police in our own us cannot meet together at dinner but there will homes, by our fire-sides, or in bed even. We had be a spy sent to watch. We are afraid of our lately some emissaries from the liberals among own shadows. We cannot trust our own wives, us. The police got scent of this, and pursued for a word spoken in mere carelessness or gosthem; but we were all true, and they escaped. sip may send us to a felon's jail or consign us The people love Kossuth; the nobles and landown-at once to an infamous death. But we are geters do not; yet they have lost nothing by the revolution, and their estates are even more valuable than before. The abolition of the corvée was really little felt by the landlords.

Hungary is ill defended, the fortresses are ill kept. The regiments here are composed chiefly of Italians and Poles, who are disaffected to a man. Even the Bohemians could not be relied on by the Emperor in another struggle. No Hungarian is employed in any public department in Hungary, or would dare accept office under the Austrians, under penalty of being generally degraded in the estimation of his countrymen, and shunned by them. The few exceptions are most utterly despised.

ting very stubborn and sulky; if we get the upper hand again, we shall be terrible. Oh! if you knew how we love the very name of free England, and stretch our imploring arms to her."

-Yes-this is the Power, needing every bayonet it can muster to maintain its own illegal and absurd system of government, to purchase whose concurrence we are told that England and France ought to make every sacrifice, and to be content with terms that would neither have given them security for peace nor have afforded them indemnity for the expenses of the war. Truly we are well We are in real righteous earnest in our determi-rid of "our ally to a certain extent."

STRIVE, WAIT, AND PRAY.

STRIVE; yet I do not promise
The prize you dream of to-day,
Will not fade when you think to grasp it,
And melt in your hand away;
But another and holier Treasure,

You would now perchance disdain,
Will come when your toil is over,
And pay you for all your pain.

Wait; yet I do not tell you

The hour you long for now,

Will not come with its radiance vanished,
And a shadow upon its brow;

Yet far through the misty fature,
With a crown of starry light,
An hour of joy you know not
Is winging her silent flight.

Pray; though the gift you ask for
May never comfort your fears,
May never repay your pleading,

Yet pray, and with hopeful tears;
An answer, not that you long for,
But diviner, will come one day;
Your eyes are too dim to see it,
Yet strive, and wait, and pray.

Household Words

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