cursed ; it has but one outlet, the door fastens with a spring, whose secret I will shew you, and which opens only on the outside; and, if Hades itself be deep enough to hide him, this grim watertower goes down as far! there then convey and leave him; the rest it shall be mine to achieve. Meanwhile, take this, as a small earnest of that liberal reward which, if you aid me successfully, shall be yours."

"And Giles divided among them the greater part of a large sum of money he had that morning received from his abused and devoted brother.

The glittering bait was eagerly gorged, and, with many assurances of prompt obedience, on which young Darrell well knew he might safely depend, these moonlight miscreants skulked away in different directions.

Nothing could exceed the 'consternation at Darkelms, when, on the second day after the departure of Sir Constantine Darrell and his brother for the stately, but dilapidated mansion of Newbold Harcourt, Giles Darrell, apparently senseless, and bleeding profusely, was brought home on litter of green boughs, by two men, in the garb of peasants, (but in reality by his own confederates), who asserted that they had found him in that piteous condition near Cadeby Scaur, a moorland thicket at no great distance from the high road between Darkelms and Newbold; and recognising him as the brother of Sir Constantine Darrell, had, with much difficulty, contrived to carry him to Darkelms.

On his revival, and after his wounds had been examined and pronounced to be slight, but so near a vital part, (so averred the obsequious surgeon,) as to have avoided it by a mere miracle, Master Giles supplied what was wanting in the peasant's story. We are not, however, so fond of that young gentleman as to give more than the purport of his vivacious narrative, which stated point blank, that Master Valentine Harcourt had murdered Sir Constantine, and had all but been unconscionable enough to deprive Darkelms and society at large of his admirable successor, Sir Giles. They encountered young Harcourt, he said, in his own domain, in company with several men, armed and masqued, and whom he, on his conscience, believed to be jesuits in disguise, on the eve of some plot which they had been hatching in the lairs and secret chambers of that old owls-nest Newbold Harcourt.

At the sight of the two brothers, Giles affirmed that Master Valence had broken out in an ungovernable transport of fury, and without listening to a word they would say, called on his companions to aid him in sweeping from the earth his own most injurious enemies, and the stubbornest adversaries of the true religion; and so forth.

Now the reign of James the First, had just been very nearly brought to an abrupt and horrible termination by the gunpowder plot, and the discovery of that diabolical design, together with the shocking punishment inflicted on the conspirators, was still rife in men's mouths and thoughts; so that, monstrous as this fiction of Master Giles may appear to us, it was the story of all others adapted to the taste and feelings of his credulous auditors. Every one at Darkelms eagerly believed the improbable tale; and, so great was the sensation, that it was with great difficulty the servants and tenantry were prevented from going in a body to Newbold Harcourt, in order to pull down the venerable mansion, (whose gory turrets little dreamt what was preparing for their already nodding battlements), and to treat its master much as Pantheus was served by his intoxicated old aunts, or Orpheus by the Thrasians. This outrage, however, was hindered by the chaplain, (who, by the way, swallowed the imposture as glibly as any of them), and it was at his suggestion that a formal warrant was obtained from a neighbouring justice, "to search for, take and apprehend the body of Valence Harcourt, suspected of harbouring seminary priests, and, by their aid killing and slaying," &c. &c. &c.

Thus far then Giles Darrell's villany prospered; his hereditary foe and loathed rival was in the springe from which, if he escaped with life, banishment to the plantations was the mildest punishment he could expect. And his other victim now safely immured in the gloomy depths of the old disused water-tower, held his life on the very precarious tenure of his abandoned brother's compunction.

And, strange to say, Giles Darrell did feel some faint yearnings towards the abused Constantine; strengthened possibly by the chance that yet remained, of at once removing his more dangerous as well as more hated rival,-and at the same time making the other the dupe of his pretended self-devotion and zeal.

"Constantine saw me fall," 'twas thus

the villain's chamber soliloquy ran on the night of his return to Darkelms: "Constantine saw me fall in his defence ! doubtless he, at this moment, believes me dead,-dead from wounds received while fighting for him:-well! he is safe in the old tower, and there he stays till this Romish minion is put out of the way; the worthy ruffian that unbound him, called himself "Valence Hurcourt," and, if the mask did not disguise him, the heavy blow that followed left that a matter unsettled: -what follows?-he revives in yon crazy cistern tower, and his two chief notions to amuse his scattered thoughts must be, first that he was the victim of his hereditary foe, and secondly, that his dear and loving brother had perished in his behalf, and by the same hand! Oh, brave Giles Darrell, to what a golden mint of mischief wilt thou give thy image. He has present food,--but I will visit him to-morrow; and how shall it be?-shall I go disguised and so sound him?-or shall I loiter beneath the tower, and catching his voice, hasten to him in my own precious wounded person, and with pale cheek and bloody bandages, come as his deliverer? I cannot tell. The night and my dreams shall decide me!"

And so saying, Giles Darrell summoned his attendant, and feigning increased pain and weariness, was gently undressed; a cordial posset was placed in a richly chased tankard; and while a silver lamp cast its mild light through the chamber, this evil man stretched him beneath a gorgeous shadowy tester, on such a luxurious bed as innocence rarely knows.

We have said that all at Darkelms believed young Darrell's fictitious tale; for he deemed it unnecessary to except the lovely Lilias Fortescue, for whose lonely chamber we gladly quit the pillow of her bold, bad cousin.

It was a large chamber, gorgeous, gloomy, and grand. The bed enormous, of three-piled purple velvet, mingled with pale silk draperies;-a monstrous plume of sable feathers on its dome, and its four pillars with the angels they supported, all over-laid with gilding.

The huge cornice of the black oaken wainscot was wrought in deep golden flower-work :-the painted ceiling represented the apotheosis of Julius Cæsar, and the tapestry was of peculiar magnificence and beauty, depicturing the story of Bacchus and Ariadne.

A superb turkey carpet, so thick, that the foot sank into it, and of a mazy

pattern, in which deep sombre red prevailed; a massy settee covered with scarlet brocade; a venetian mirror of unusual size; a great cabinet of tortoiseshell and ebony, forming the perspective interior of a church, and a high oaken mantel-piece, beautifully carved with birds, fruits, and flowers, completed the furniture of this dormitory,—through which the flame from a large filigree tripod swam faint and skimmering, more like a moon-light mist, and instead of shedding lustre upon the solemn decorations of the apartment, served only to borrow their gloom.

Fair Mistress Fortescue knelt before a large desk of luxuriant carve work, on which was a large Bible, with velvet hieling and brazen clasps, and at its side, (true yoke fellow!) an open book of Common-prayer, resembling its companion in size and ornament. The lady seemed absorbed in devotion, her hands were clasped, her beautiful brow bent low; the page was open in that most sublime and pathetic of all human supplications, the Litany;-and Lilias was just breathing in audible accents-"In all time of our tribulation, in all time of our wealth, in the hour of death, and in the day of judgment. Good Lord deliver

us!"

when, suddenly, a noise was heard behind the tapestry, in a remote nook of the chamber, and just as Lilias, starting from her knees, in sudden alarm, had folded around her more closely the robe of sables, down which her bright hair waved in a golden flood, and thrust her snowy feet into their embroidered slippers; the starting of a spring was heard, then the opening of a door, and, in another moment, a tall figure in dishevelled raiment, deadly pale, and dabbled with blood, stood within the apartment.

It was impossible for a moment to mistake the countenance and mien of Sir Constantine Darrell; but, seen as the figure was, in that ample chamber, beneath the uncertain struggle of glimmer and gloom, and under the impressions which at that moment were harrowing up every thought; it is not wonderful that Lilias Fortescue should believe she beheld her cousin's spectre, in this strange and sudden apparition. She did not scream, but sinking in mortal terror, on the settee, would probably soon have been relieved by insensibility from her alarm, had not the eager grasp of Constantine's hand, and the trembling, but well known accents of his voice called back her scattered spirits

"Thanks for that word, good generous Constantine! but tell me, how have you escaped? and what is the truth of this mysterious affair?”

Your first question, fair Lilias, I will answer as I may; your second, I trust I shall be able to solve before another midnight.

"The villains who attacked us, were some score strong: marry, they paid a compliment to the valour of the house of Darrell; and to say the truth, we did keep them in play; for it was not until Giles fell (thank heaven, thou sayest his hurts are not deep!) that they overpowered me. I fell from my horse, without receiving any severe wounds, but stunned by a heavy blow from behind, from the effects of which I did not recover, until I found myself,-where thinkest thou, sweet Lilias?"

"Nay, Constantine, I am not so versed in the brigands' haunts!"

Why, in that great water-tower which thou knowest, half-way up the wood, by the Derwent side! It was built ages agone, by some freakish ancestor who delighted in water-works; believe at any rate, it has been long disused, and is said to be haunted."

"I know it well; it is a strange, dismal looking structure; I have often purposed to explore it; but, in sooth, its strange grim aspect frightened me; and if it looked so gaunt and threatening from without, what must it be

within!

"I' faith, fair cousin, not very delightful, I can promise you; at least, I thought so, when, awakening from my trance,-I beheld a monstrous hollow tower, imperfectly shewn by a light, held by a wild figure, masked, and cloked in sable, with a drawn sword in his righthand; and with no other palliative of these horrors, than the basket of provisions and flask of wine at my side, which at any rate assured me, that my present death was not the object of my captors. The fellow answered my ques

tions; he told me that they were followers of Master Valence Harcourt ; that there was to be a general rising of the Catholics; that my capture had been its first fruits; that I had been immersed in the water tower, as the most improbable place of my confinement, (and so, in sooth, it was!) and that I should hear more on the morrow. And thus the ruffian left me ascending the long flight of steps, on which he had placed me, and carefully closing the heavy door behind him, left me to my reflections. I need not repeat my dear Lilias, my utter disbelief of this fellow's tale, as regarded Master Harcourt; and I cannot say with how much reluctance I avow to you, that my thoughts did glance in another quarter, apparently far more improbable and unnatural."

Beautiful Mistress Fortescue shook her head, and smiled with such bitter meaning, that Sir Constantine quickly interpreting it—said eagerly

Nay, Lilias,-beware of rash judgement!-for myself, I have utterly refused to harbour so hateful, so monstrous a suspicion; and deeply do I condemn myself for having indulged it one moment. But I have trespassed too long, and have not yet told the cause of this strange and unmannerly intrusion, at such an untimely hour.

"This old water tower has long been one of my favourite haunts. I loved it, chiefly I believe, because no one ever sought it but myself:-and when, in my rambles through the intricate and lurking passages, which in every direction stretch their labyrinths about this mansion and its vicinity, I discovered a communication under ground, between Darkelms and the water-tower, I caused the flood-gates and other machinery, used of old for filling it with water, to be thoroughly repaired, with no other motive I believe, than a wish to preserve a curious old relic. I also had the souterrain cleared out, and the spring fastenings on the doors renewed. In these proceedings I observed no secresy, except that I guarded carefully in my own breast, the discovery of its communication with the interior of Darkelms.

"And thus, my fair cousin, I must plead my pardon for this midnight intrusion into your chamber, since my passage of escape from the water-tower has no other termination than this; and now, good night! I go to awaken the chaplain, that I may confer with the good man touching the plan I have formed by which the perpetrators of this

outrage, whoever they be, shall be entrapped and detected."

"Go then, good Constantine! and may providence prosper your righteous purpose; his chamber lies at the farther end of the gallery; but stay! you design, I conceive, at present to remain in concealment at Darkelms ?"

"Undoubtedly."

Then, ask not why I wish it, but, above all men, avoid the sight of your brother-of Giles Darrell!"

"Fear me not: we will not meet as yet; and now farewell!"

"One instant longer! one syllable more!" pantingly exclaimed poor Lilias, as she hastily followed Sir Constantine to the door, whose handle he already grasped :

"Forgive me if I seem unmaidenly, but that innocent man-that unfortunate"

Valence Harcourt would ye say, lady? you cannot doubt me, cousin Lilias! surely you cannot doubt that, not even to punish my merciless enemies is half so much my eager wish as to deliver my injured-"

Rival was the word that rose to Sir Constantine's lips, but he would not utter it, and wringing Lilias' hand, he abruptly quitted the apartment.

And where is this Valence Harcourt? methinks I hear more than one of my fair readers exclaim, arching her snowy neck and elevating her beautiful eyebrows; and what is he like? and when are we to see him? or, like the description of Queen Elizabeth's saddle, in "the Critic," is this all we are to know of him!

Patience, O fairest of that sex to whom curiosity is a privilege, patience! Not a day's journey from Darkelms, rejoicing in many a broad acre of fertile meadow and upland, and girdled by a fair river, stood the castle and domain of Newbold Harcourt, distinguished not less by the ancestral oaks which had waved over the parting banners of its lord, bowning for Azincourt, than by the primeval majesty of the mansion itself, to which, multiplied as were its aged towers, and fantastic as was its hoary architecture, not a stone, not a brick had been added since the license of the victorious Edward had, after the battle of Tewkesbury, empowered Sir Edgar Harcourt to convert his manor-hall into a castle; turrellare, battellare, et cernallare;" so ran the magnificent prerogatives conferred by the charter; and amply, at that time, had

the lord of Newbold 'availed himself of them; for such a wild assemblage of towers, bastians, loopholes, posterns, and ramparts never did human eye survey.

But at the time of which we write, -ay, that good magician, had shed so kindly an influence over the vast and heterogeneous pile, that its irregularity fascinated, while its vast features assumed an air of hoary magnificence to the eye.

The process of a decay, (so far from uncommon in old families), had been friendly to the house of Newbold Harcourt, and, rigid papists as its proprietors were, they were little likely to have either means or opportunity for altering their abode, in that reign of the last Tudor, so remarkable for its manorhouses as to have transmitted promiscuously through after ages the name of Elizabeth to all medieval architecture.

Thus the time-honoured structure of Newbold Harcourt, secured by circumstances from the invasions of improvement, survived in all that consecrated majesty which age always bestows upon buildings too mighty for his power to undermine.

The present master of this antiquated residence, had been born to the diminished fortunes of his family, and therefore, in spite of all the legends which his nurse and various old servants of the house were for ever pouring in his ear, Valence Harcourt was provokingly contented with the old mansion and its wild range of half naked chambers, as well as with the dark woods and the corn-fields of a few hundred acres; although his youthful ears were perpetually dinned with stories of the magnificent furniture of Newbold Harcourt, in past times, and the extent of its estate, which tradition said, its lords of old could not traverse in a summer day's journey.

At the period of our story, Valence Harcourt, a conscientious, though not bigotted Roman Catholic, had steered perfectly clear of all the plots, (then so greatly the rage,) to overthrow the Protestant altar and throne in England; he had kept together the greatly impaired but still respectable property he inherited from a high lineage of ancestors; and when the eminent graces of his youthful person, his accomplished mind, and the excellence of his disposition, are taken into the account, he certainly justified the magnanimous sacrifice which Sir Constantine Darrell meditated in his behalf.

He was in the highest pitch fof exultation, at a successful swoop his favourite

falcon had made on a heron, near Harcourt Mere, when a pursuivant with his followers grasped his bridle rein, and shewed their warrant.

The only thing that recovered Valence from his astonishment and prevented the burst of laughter with which it was about to be succeeded, was the clamour of his attendants, who, enraged that their beloved master was thus molested in his sports, and without ascertaining the cause, were about to inflict summary punishment on the pursuivant and his men by ducking them in the Mere.

Master Harcourt stopped this violent outrage in good time, and then professed his readiness to obey the warrant, making only two requests: first, that he should be allowed an hour to arrange matters at the hall; and secondly, that he might be conveyed to Darkelms forthwith, in custody of the pursuivant, in order in some measure to ascertain the ground of this extraordinary accusation.

The men were too thankful for Master Harcourt's intervention in their behalf, not to be willing to grant his request, even had they not been convinced of its justness; and thus at the time himself appointed, Valence Harcourt was conveyed a prisoner to Darkelms.

Night had fallen upon that venerable old mansion on the arrival of the pursuivant with his prisoner, and, as Sir Giles, (so they termed him), had quitted Darkelms in the twilight, and was not yet returned, although momentarily expected, Valence Harcourt was, in the meanwhile, placed, for security, in a large vaulted apartment, half coloured with damps, half streaming with tattered arras, which was once the baronial hall, but had been long since abandoned for chambers of smaller dimensions, and more genial character.

It is hardly necessary to state, that Valence was not left long to the solitude of that melancholy receptacle, at once the grave and monument of departed hospitalities; nor do we write for that dull elf who does not conceive that Sir Constantine Darrell and lovely Mistress Lilias, the moment they learnt the prisoner's arrival, hastened to the ruinous hall, leaving to the chaplain the task of expounding to the household the return of Sir Constantine, and the innocence of Valence Harcourt; joyful tidings, the effect of which was testified by exulting shouts, which reached to the hollow old lair, in which the three just mentioned were exchanging congratulations.

Quickly did they remove to the oaken parlour, in which our story opened, where a rare supper was already set forth, and where, (ceremony and state alike forgotten by Sir Constantine and his household,) a scene of tumultuous joy took place as the domestics crowded in to welcome the beloved master whom they had so lately lamented as dead.

It was when the apartment was once more restored to its wonted tranquillity, and they were about to resume their seats, that Sir Constantine learnt the protracted absence of Master Giles; and, while the sudden shades of displeasure and anguish were darkening his noble brow, he was called aside by the chaplain, who apprised him that the trusty spies he had planted by the tower in the wood, were returned, and requested immediate speech with his honour. On his return to the oaken parlour, Sir Constantine appeared gloomy and disturbed; and, after the attendants had withdrawn, leaving only the chaplain with Lilias Fortescue and Valence Harcourt in the room, an earnest and agitating conversation took place, the consequences of which will shortly appear.

At a late hour they retired to their several sleeping rooms; but Giles Darrell did not return to Darkelms that night.

The great painted window, half hidden by an umbrageous sycamore, in the east end of Darkelms chapel, was just beginning to shimmer with the orient lustre of a huge and angry coloured moon, when Giles Darrell, wearing the mask and disguise of his ruffian associates, with a dark lantern in one hand, and a small basket of provisions in the other, sought, with stealthy step, the pathway that led to the old tower in the wood.

Often did he pause and look around and behind him, with such cautious scrutiny as if he would feign have dispensed with the company of his very shadow, in the secret expedition on which he was embarked.

That shadow, however, was the only associate he could not get rid of; and as the full moon, rising in his face, flung behind him the dilated shape in clear black outline, it formed no unapt resemblance of an attendant fiend dogging the footsteps of his employer.

The landscape lay around in solemn and breathless lustre; the mansion and its woods stood silent and sleepy in moonshine or shadow, as the ascending orb streamed over them; the old dovecote turret cast its long straight shadow