days, pretending that I was going to my own house with leave from Government. I sent no notice to my house, that the magistrates of Dumfries might not make too narrow inquiries about me. So they were ignorant of my arrival in the country till I was at home, where I still feigned to have permission to remain. To carry on the deceit the better, I sent to all my neighbours and invited them to come to my house. I took up my papers at night and sent them off to Traquhair. It was a particular stroke of Providence that I made the dispatch I did, for they soon suspected me, and by a very favourable accident, one of them was overheard to say to the magistrates of Dumfries, that the next day they would insist on seeing my leave from Government. This was bruited about, and when I was told of it, I expressed my surprise that they should be so backward in coming to pay their respects; but, said I, "better late than never-be sure to tell them that they shall be welcome whenever they choose to come." This was after dinner, but I lost no time to put everything in readiness with all possible secrecy; and the next morning, before day-break, I set off again for London with the same attendants, and as before put up at the smallest inns, and arrived safe once more.

On my arrival, the report was still fresh of my journey into Scotland, in defiance of their prohibition.

A lady informed me, that the king was extremely incensed at the news. That he had issued orders to have me arrested; adding, that I did whatever I pleased, in despite of all his designs, and that I had given him more trouble and anxiety than any other woman in Europe. For which reason, I kept myself as closely concealed as possible, till the heat of these reports had abated. In the meanwhile, I took the opinion of a very famous lawyer, who was a man of the strictest probity.

He advised me to go off as soon as they had ceased searching after me. I followed his advice, and, about a fortnight after, escaped without any accident whatever. The reason he alleged for his opinion was this—that although, in other circumstances, a wife cannot be prosecuted for saving her husband, yet, in cases of high treason, according to the rigour of the law, the head of the wife is responsible for that of the husband; and, as the king was so highly incensed, there could be no answering for the consequences, and he therefore entreated me to leave the kingdom. The king's resentment was greatly increased by the petition which I presented, contrary to his express orders. But my lord was very anxious that a petition might be presented, hoping that it would be at least serviceable to me. I was, in my own mind, convinced that it would be to no purpose; but, as I wished to please my lord, I desired him to have it drawn up, and I undertook to make it come to the king's hand, notwithstanding all the precautions he had taken to avoid it. So, the first day that I heard the king was to go to the drawing-room, I dressed myself in black, as if I was in mourning. I sent for Mrs. Morgan (the same who accompanied me to the Tower), because, as I did not know his Majesty personally, I might have mistaken some other person for him. She stood by me, and told me when he was coming. I had also another lady with me, and we three remained in a room between the King's apartments and the drawing-room; so that he was obliged to go through it, and as there were three windows in it, we sat in the middle one, that I might have time enough to meet him before he could pass. I threw myself at his feet, and told him, in French, that I was the unfortunate Countess of Nithsdale, that he might not pretend to be ignorant of my person. But perceiving that he

wanted to go off, without receiving my petition, I caught hold of the skirts of his coat, that he might stop and hear me. He endeavoured to escape out of my hands, but I kept such strong hold that he dragged me from the middle of the room to the door of the drawing-room. At last one of the blue-ribands, who attended his Majesty, took me round the waist, whilst another wrested the coat out of my hands. The petition, which I had endeavoured to thrust into his pocket, fell down in the scuffle, and I almost fainted through grief and disappointment. One of the gentlemen in waiting took the petition, and as I knew that it ought to have been given to the lord of the bed-chamber who was then in waiting, I wrote to him, and entreated him to do me the favour to read the petition which I had had the honour to present to his Majesty.

Fortunately for me it happened to be my Lord Dorset, with whom Mrs. Morgan was very intimate. Accordingly, she went into the drawing-room and presented him a letter, which he received very graciously. He could not read it then, as he was at cards with the Prince, but as soon as the game was over, he read it; and behaved, as I afterwards learnt, with the greatest zeal for my interest, and was seconded by the Duke of Montrose, who had seen me in the ante-chamber and wanted to speak to me, but I made him a sign not to come near me, lest his acquaintance should thwart my designs. But it became the topic of their conversation the rest of the evening, and the harshness with which I had been treated soon spread abroad-not much to the honour of the King. Many people reflected that they had themselves presented petitions, and that he had never rejected any, even from the most indigent objects. But this behaviour to a person of quality was a strong instance of brutality. These reflexions, which circulated about, raised the King to the

highest pitch of hatred and indignation against my person, as he has since allowed; for when the ladies, whose husbands had been concerned in this affair, presented their petitions for dower, mine was presented among the rest, but the King said, I was not entitled to the same privilege, and in fact I was excluded; and it is remarkable, that he would never suffer my name to be mentioned. For these reasons everybody judged it prudent for me to leave the kingdom; for so long as this hatred of the King subsisted I could not be safe, and as it was not probable that I could escape falling into his hands, I accordingly went.

This is the full narrative of what you desired, and of all the transactions which passed relative to this affair. Nobody besides yourself could have obtained it from me; but the obligations I owe you throw me under the necessity of refusing you nothing that is in my power to do. As this is for yourself alone, your indulgence will excuse all the faults which must occur in this long recital. The truth you may, however, depend upon; attend to that, and overlook all deficiencies.

My lord desires you to be assured of his sincere friendship. I am, with strongest attachment,

My dear sister,

Yours most affectionately,

WINIFRED NITHSDALE,

THE ESCAPE OF LAVALETTE.

WHO does not feel the truth of Mungo Park's testimony to the innate benevolence, the innate excellence of the female character. Amid all his misery and suffering in the savage and inhospitable region he explored, Park assures us, that in no one instance did he seek food or drink from woman, and was refused; though man seemed everywhere his foe, the female breast, open to pity and commiseration, responded to his supplication. But it is not alone in the gentler virtues of charity that woman has gained pre-eminence. In the devotion of self to the preservation of others, where affection was the guiding motive, how many heroic instances are there not on record! We have just given Lady Nithsdale's beautiful description of her husband's deliverance, and we are now about to add a similar proof of woman's love and woman's devotion, in the memorable escape of General Lavalette, aided, as it was, by the noble exertions of a distinguished member of the British aristocracy, the present Earl of Donoughmore, and of a gallant officer of the British army, Sir Robert Wilson.

In 1815, M. Lavalette had been condemned, for his adherence to the cause of Bonaparte, to suffer death. The eve of the day of execution, the 24th of December, had already arrived; and all hope of saving him had been abandoned, except by one heroic woman alone.