"Hold off!-the poor fellow is killed, or may be in a minute. Hold off, I say."

If ever these men, planning perhaps their first ill deed, were struck dumb with astonishment, it was to see the gentleman they were intending to rob take up their comrade in his arms, drag him towards the carriage-lamps, rub snow on his face, and chafe his heavy hands. But all in vain. The blood trickled down from a wound in the temples-the head, with its open mouth dropping, fell back upon John's knee. "He is quite dead."

The others gathered round in silence, watching Mr. Halifax, as he still knelt, with the dead man's head leaning against him, mournfully regarding it.

"I think I know him. Where does his wife live ?" Some one pointed across the moor, to a light, faint as a glow-worm. "Take that rug out of my carriage-wrap him in it." The order was at once obeyed. "Now carry him home. I will follow presently."

"Surely not," expostulated Lord Ravenel, who had got out of the carriage and stood, shivering and much shocked, beside Mr. Halifax. "You would not surely put yourself in the power of these scoundrels? What brutes they arethe lower orders!"

"Not altogether-when you know them. Phineas, will you drive Lord Ravenel on to Beechwood?”

"Excuse me-certainly not," said Lord Ravenel, with dignity. "We will stay to see the result of the affair. What a singular man Mr. Halifax is, and always was," he added, thoughtfully, as he muffled himself up again in his furs, and relapsed into silence.

Soon, following the track of those black figures across the snow, we came to a cluster of peat huts, alongside of the moorland road. John took one of the carriage-lamps in his hand, and went in, without saying a word. To my surprise Lord Ravenel presently dismounted and followed him. was left with the reins in my hand, and two or three of those ill-visaged men hovering about the carriage; but no one attempted to do me any harm. Nay, when John reappeared, after a lapse of some minutes, one of them civilly picked up the whip and put it into his hand.

"Thank you. Now, my men, tell me what did you want with me just now ?"

"Money," cried one. "Work," shouted another.

"And a likely way you went about to get it! Stopping me in the dark, on a lonely road, just like common robbers. I did not think any Enderley men would have done a thing so cowardly."

"We bean't cowards," was the surly answer. carries pistols, Mr. Halifax."

"Thee

"You forced me to do it. My life is as precious to my wife and children, as-as that poor fellow's to his."-John stopped. "God help us, my men! it's a hard world for us all sometimes. Why did you not know me better? Why not come to my house and ask honestly for a dinner and a half crown?-you should have both, any day."

"Thank'ee, sir," was the general cry. "And, sir," begged one old man, "you'll hush_up the 'crowner's 'questyou and this gentleman here. You won't put us in jail, for taking to the road, Mr. Halifax ?"

"No;-unless you attack me again. But I am not afraid -I'll trust you. Look here!" He took the pistol out of his breast-pocket, cocked it, and fired its two barrels harmlessly into the air. "Now, good-night; and if ever I carry fire-arms again, it will be your fault, not mine."

So saying, he held the carriage-door open for Lord Ravenel, who took his place with a subdued and thoughtful air: then mounting the box-seat, John drove, in somewhat melancholy silence, across the snowy starlit moors to Beechwood.

CHAPTER XXXII.

IN the home-light.

It was a scene-glowing almost as those evening pictures at Longfield. Those pictures, photographed on memory by the summer sun of our lives, and which no paler after-sun could have power to reproduce. Nothing earthly is ever reproduced in the same form. I suppose heaven meant it to be so; that in the perpetual progression of our existence, we should be reconciled to loss, and taught that change itself is but another form for aspiration. Aspiration, which never can rest, or ought to rest, in anything short of the One

absolute Perfection-the One all-satisfying Good, "in whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning."

I say this to excuse myself for thoughts, which at times made me grave-even in the happy home-light of John's study; where, for several weeks after the last incident I have recorded, the family were in the habit of gathering every evening. For poor Guy was a captive. The "mere trifle" had turned out to be a sprained foot, which happening to a tall and strong young man became serious. He bore his imprisonment restlessly enough at first, but afterwards grew more reconciled-took to reading, drawing, and society-and even began to interest himself in the pursuits of his sister Maud, who every morning had her lessons in the study.

Miss Silver first proposed this. She had evinced more feeling than was usual to her, since Guy's accident; showed him many little feminine kindnesses-out of compunction, it seemed; and altogether was much improved. Of evenings, as now, she always made one of the "young people," who were generally grouped together round Guy's sofa-Edwin, Walter, and little Maud. The father and mother sat opposite-as usual, side by side, he with his newspaper, she with her work. Or sometimes falling into pleasant idleness, they would slip hand in hand, and sit talking to one another in an under-tone, or silently and smilingly watch the humors. of their children.

For me, I generally took to my nook in the chimney-corner-it was a very ancient fire-place, with settles on each side, and dogs instead of a grate, upon which many a faggot hissed and crackled its merry brief life away. Nothing could be more cheery and comfortable than this old-fashioned, low-roofed room, three sides of which were peopled with books-all the books which John had gathered up during the course of his life. Perhaps it was their long-familiar, friendly faces, which made this his favorite room his own especial domain. But he did not keep it tabooed from his family; he liked to have them about him, even in his studious hours.

So, of evenings, we all sat together as now, each busy, and none interrupting the rest. At intervals, flashes of talk or laughter broke out, chiefly from Guy, Walter, or Maud, when Edwin would look up from his everlasting book, and even the grave governess relax into a smile. Since she had