old sword, which she, with equal incaution, declared to have belonged to her brother. They had been discovered in Joyce's apartment in the Abbey, carefully secreted beneath a stone at the side of the fire-place, as well as a pocketbook, full of notes, having the initials of the murdered man on the cover, worked by Rebecca herself; the sword was found by the side of the body, when it was first discovered in the lane.

When Rebecca heard that she had criminated her brother, or rather, that she had confirmed his criminality, she was violently agitated; not so much for him, but on account of Edwin, whom she loved as her adopted son. She felt sure that the page would never return to witness his father's disgrace, and she was much grieved to think that the boy might consider her an enemy, and forsake for ever a place where he was born, and where she expected him to end his days in peace and comfort. In vain, Horatia reasoned with her on the uselessness of giving way to such forebodings; but she declined even her

sympathy, and, betaking herself to her own small chamber, shut herself in, and refused to associate with any of the inmates of the Abbey.

CHAPTER VI.

"The good or ill of men's lives comes more from their humours than their fortunes."

JOYCE was now so far recovered, that the doctor thought it expedient to tell him that the obstinate silence which he maintained would not be considered in any other light than as a direct proof of his guilt; and he recommended him, if he wished to disarm the worst suspicions against him, to find the use of his speech as soon as possible. The hint thus given produced the desired effect, and the steward spoke, but he showed no signs of yielding; on the contrary, he resolutely denied the charges against himself, and treated the idea of the

Countess's innocence, and still more of her being alive, with the greatest contempt. True, Fanga told him that his assertions gained no credit, and that the period for his trial was drawing near; but to this Joyce replied, that if she and Edwin did their duty, he would defy all the attempts of his enemies to injure him.

“I think I might easily escape," he said, "if you both assisted me properly; but that boy turned traitor, and I have more than once suspected, since that day, that he is in the pay of the Marquis. If so, I am a lost man.” "He has a good deal of your selfish pride," answered the old woman; " and it is not very likely, therefore, that he would wish to see you hanged." So speaking, and with a grin which was not calculated to afford comfort to a guilty wretch, Fanga stole forward, and softly unlocked a door which had escaped the notice of those who had searched the room, and which opened into the vaults underground. She went down the damp and slippery steps, and left the prisoner once more in his solitary chamber to reflect.

This was not the room into which we for

merly introduced Lord Dungarvon; it was further removed from the entrance, but not more cheerful or spacious. Both himself and Fanga, however, had begged that he might be permitted to leave the other, which his long confinement had rendered hateful to him; and this was readily conceded-every avenue to the hut being so strictly watched that his keepers thought it impossible for any danger to arise from their indulgence. Into this room none were suffered to enter, except the clergyman, the doctor, the lawyer, and Fanga; and the latter was soon made aware of the fact that she was herself a closely-watched prisoner, as well as Joyce. But though liberty was denied to both, they were not deprived of any requisite comfort they asked for; and the steward was even supplied with writing materials or books as he desired. Joyce had formerly studied with pleasure, now he seemed to pass every hour in meditating some scheme either of freedom or revenge. When he was alone, he would pace to and fro in his chamber, think on every plan which had ever been devised by man to